Here's to Us(What If It's Us #2)(101)
Arthur
Two Years Later
Middletown, CT
What do you call a moment that’s so perfect, you’re scared you dreamed it?
I’m close enough to make out some of the faces in the crowd, and it’s the strangest patchwork of people. Musa and his wife, Rahmi, sitting next to Ben’s author friends. Mrs. Ortiz from up the block making kissy faces at one of Jacob’s toddlers. Juliet and Emerald. Namrata and David. So many relatives, too—like Uncle Milton and his Special Lady Friend from upstate, not to mention the ultimate old-lady power duo: Bubbe and Abuelita. All these people, from every era of our lives.
No ex-boyfriends, though. We weren’t surprised when Hudson and Rafael declined our invitation, and we were even less surprised about Mikey and Zach. Mario’s the only one who seemed crushed he couldn’t make it—he couldn’t get away from his writers’ room, but he sent us a video message with lots of congratulatory kisses from his lucky I Love You Beary Much bear.
An instrumental version of “Marry You” starts playing, and Ben steps into the aisle. I’m not close enough to make out his expression, but I can picture it—the little self-conscious half smile when he knows people are looking at him. I call it his book-signing face. He’s flanked by his parents, and they’re moving so slowly, probably because Isabel keeps clasping people’s hands as she passes.
“Still breathing?” my mom asks.
I shake my head. “I’m getting married.”
To Ben. To the guy I’ve been in love with since I was sixteen years old.
Ben and I haven’t seen each other for hours, but we woke up early so we could wander around Main Street together, just us. Ben signed stock at RJ Julia, and we had brunch at Ford News Diner. And of course we hit up the Bark-ery for homemade dog biscuits, since it’s our first time leaving Beauregard with anyone other than Ben’s parents, and Ben’s not taking it well. I did manage to talk him out of FaceTiming the dog sitter from inside the store, so Beau could see all his options. You could say I have a pretty good idea now about what Ben’s going to be like as a dad.
Is it weird that I can’t wait?
The song switches to “Only Us” from Dear Evan Hansen, which is apparently Sammy’s cue to full-on somersault down the aisle. Literally no idea where his ring pillow is, but it’s cool, because we’ve got the actual rings in our pockets. Past Arthur and Past Ben knew way better than to let someone with that much Dylan DNA anywhere near them. Sammy throws his fists in the air when he reaches the chuppah, like a fighter entering the ring.
My dad pats my back. “I think it’s go time. You ready?”
The sound that comes out of my mouth definitely isn’t a word, but he just laughs and straightens my tie.
Then my parents hook their arms through mine, and I’m vaguely aware that a hundred faces have turned around to watch me.
But all I see is Ben. The way he’s standing so straight in his dark gray suit—I think he’s too nervous to slouch. Our eyes lock, and he presses his fist to his mouth, like he’s trying to hold back a sob.
I legitimately can’t believe I get to marry this person.
Ben tries to kiss me hello as soon as I reach the chuppah, but Dylan bops him on the head with a rolled-up sheet of paper. “No spoilers!”
“It’s a wedding,” says Ben.
“You’re not married yet!” Dylan turns back to the crowd. “Friends! Enemies!” Then he pauses, bowing slightly. “Lovers.”
Samantha shakes her head incredulously.
“I want to begin,” Dylan continues, “by calling upon the godlike scriptures of my church, the church from whence delivers . . . universal life. Fellow wanderers, I’ve been challenged! I’ve been tested! My road to celestial fulfillment has been one of great tribulation! But since the day I submitted my information unto that holiest of online contact forms, I have been”—he shuts his eyes briefly—“a man of unshakable faith.”
Ben looks at me, and I bite back a laugh.
“Thus, it is my divinely anointed pleasure to welcome you here for the holy gay matrimony of Benjamin Hugo Alejo and Arthur James Seuss. This is—no exaggeration—the most homoromantic occasion in the history of humanity.” He pauses dramatically. “So without further ado, I’d like to turn it over to our grooms, who have taken a vow of writing their own vows. Go ahead, Ben. Make my day—no.” Dylan smiles, gesturing grandly at me. “Make his.”
The next thing I know, Ben’s pulling a slightly crumpled sheet of paper out of his jacket pocket, making a noise that’s somewhere between a laugh and an exhale.
“As we all know, I’m not—” he begins, voice shaking a bit. “Sorry, can I—let me start again.” I squeeze his hands and smile at him, and he smiles nervously back. “Okay, do-over time. As we all know, I’m not the fantasy author I thought I was going to be. That was a rough time. But I got through it because of you—you’re my biggest fan and my biggest champion. And you prove over and over how the real world is more magical than anything I could ever write because you’re in it.”
I lose my breath. This much joy can’t be survivable.
“There are so many days when I still can’t believe you’re in my life. What if I hadn’t gone to the post office that day? What if you hadn’t come back to New York? What if I had left? Then when I think about how horrible my life would look without you, I think about everything I’ll do to keep you. Like letting you sing show tunes before bed despite complaints from our neighbors. And never abusing the courteous five-minute period of lateness you’ve so generously granted me.”