Chapter Text
While Marco breastfeeds for the first time, Valeria experiences a wave of ravenous hunger. Cradling her newborn infant with one hand, she uses her other hand to shove food into her mouth from a plastic tray. Breakfast is a soggy sandwich and a bowl of cheesy pasta with an unappealing film over it. The food’s quality is subpar, but the new mother practically inhales it after her exhausting labor.
While Valeria eats faster than ever before, Dream sits in the birthing room’s guest chair beside his wife. His elbows rest upon her stretcher’s metal railing. Enraptured, he has not looked away from his newborn son in at least ten minutes.
Standing nearby, George is more squeamish. His gaze darts between Dream, Valeria, and Marco, unsure if it is inappropriate for him to be present while his ex-girlfriend is breastfeeding.
Unaware of his friend’s internal conflict, Dream remarks wistfully, “That book from the library said that parents never anticipate how fast babies grow during their first month.”
“Well, do you know what I didn’t anticipate?” A teasing glint enters Valeria’s eyes as she pauses her chewing. “I didn’t expect how much you would freak out! I think you asked the doctor, like, four times if things were normal.”
“Okay, yeah, I guess I was a little frazzled,” Dream concedes sheepishly. He barely remembers all of the anxious questions that he asked during the labor, about whether Valeria’s pain level, the labor’s length, the baby’s size, and the colors of the liquid coming out with it were normal. To every question, the obstetrician sighed with audible impatience that yes, all of these things were completely normal. “I bet they deal with guys like me all the time, though.”
“Impulsive guys?” Valeria lifts an eyebrow.
First Dream scoffs with mock offense, then he shrugs, “Fine. Yes, I’m an impulsive guy sometimes.”
Simultaneously the couple averts their gazes to look at their group’s fourth member, as if they had forgotten he was still there.
Self-consciously George wraps arms around himself when the eyes land upon him. Glancing between Valeria and Dream, he asks, “What?” Then, assuming that his presence is a problem, he offers, “Should I leave?” Without waiting for a response, he backs away toward the door that leads to the hallway.
“No, George, you’re fine,” Valeria reassures. “You can stay.”
“Oh, okay.” George’s shoulders relax with relief, but he does not approach again. “Thank you, but maybe I should go anyway.”
“Do you need to go to work?” Cleaning her fingers and lips with a paper napkin, Valeria adjusts her delicate grip around her baby. “Your car is still in the parking lot, right?”
“It is.” George’s tone is strained. “Listen, I’m really glad that he had this little group therapy session, but Val, we’re not - I mean, you and Dream are the parents now, not me.”
“You don’t need to stay if you don’t want to.” Wondering if her ex-boyfriend is trying to convince her or himself that his presence is unnecessary, Valeria suggests, “Dream and I can just take a taxi or rideshare back to our house, too.”
“No, I’ll drive you.” Instantly George declines the offer that would end their time together early. “But I just - there’s just a lot of stuff that I’m sure we all need to process, and -”
“That’s okay,” Dream interrupts gently. “You’re very generous, George. We’ll pay you back for gas money after you drive us back.”
“Good.” Gaze unreadable, George nods. “Whenever you’re ready, we’ll go.”
***
Wrapping her son with the same towel that she brought from home in the morning, Valeria shields Marco from the sunlight. She grips the armrest of her wheelchair with her free hand, holding herself in place while Dream pushes her through the hospital’s front sliding doors.
Beneath a sunny sky, George leads the new family across the hospital’s crowded parking lot. Weaving through the lot’s aisles, he locates his sleek model between a pickup truck and a motorcycle. Silver paint glistens harshly while heat radiates from the vehicle’s reflective side windows.
“It’s this one here.”
“Woah, you got a new car?” Impressed, Dream whistles. He stops the wheelchair beside the car’s trunk, waiting patiently for George to unlock the doors.
“Yeah, I did.” George’s pride is sheepish but genuine. Climbing into the driver’s seat, he powers on the engine and slowly reverses the car from its parking spot. Braking when the vehicle is halfway out, he unlocks the back doors and watches through the rear view mirror while Dream helps Valeria and Marco crawl into the back seat.
Once the new mother has buckled her seat belt, Dream closes the back door and excuses himself to return the wheelchair to the hospital. While her husband leaves, his pace peppy and full of adrenaline, Valeria heaves a sigh and meets her ex-boyfriend’s gaze.
“Do you need me to take you anywhere else?” George’s question is soft rather than polite; it sounds more like an offer.
Valeria hesitates. Despite accepting her marriage with Dream, George still clearly loves her… and especially after witnessing his selflessness and fierce devotion, she thinks she might love him, too. How is that possible? How can she be happy with Dream and yet still want George?
When his ex-girlfriend hesitates for too long, George breaks eye contact. Averting his gaze from the rear view mirror, he stares directly ahead, squinting in the sunlight that filters through the tinted windshield.
“Well, Val, if you need anything else, you have my phone number.”
In Valeria’s peripheral vision, she sees her husband striding across the parking lot from the hospital. His smile beams like the sun hovering overhead, contrasting sharply against the forlorn moon in the driver’s seat. Valeria never understood why people debated the silent battle between the sun and moon, asking each other with mild curiosity about who preferred the day or night. Why can’t I love both? The sun burns bright and voracious, warming and illuminating everything it touches. In comparison, the moon appears stony and aloof, casting a subtle glow upon a dark planet. Valeria loves both the sun and moon. She loves both Dream and George.
Hopefully the day will come when both the sun and moon can coexist, soaring high together, both glowing in Valeria’s endless sky.
***
Surprisingly George is willing to accompany Dream, Valeria, and Marco into their house. Just like how they marveled at his new car, he marvels at their home’s marble floors, plush couches, and freshly-painted walls. He asks for permission to explore; Valeria happily grants it. While her ex-boyfriend disappears down the hallway, she joins her husband in the kitchen.
Standing near the refrigerator, Dream searches cabinets for a more fulfilling meal than the one that he ate at the hospital. Already Valeria feels hungry again, too, so she rocks her now-sleeping baby in her arms beside him.
“Would you like some tea?” Dream lifts a small green box above his shoulder.
“No, it has caffeine,” Valeria declines.
“Don’t we need that, though, just in case Marco gets hungry in the middle of the night?”
“If he gets hungry, he’ll cry and wake us up,” she reminds him.
“Oh, okay, right.” Returning the box of tea into the cabinet, Dream steps aside to open the freezer door instead. “Val, did you buy this?” He points at a box of frozen pound cake.
“Damn, I was hoping you wouldn’t notice that,” Valeria smirks. “I ate half of the pound cake three days ago while you were gone. I thought I could finish it before you came back.” When Dream looks back over his shoulder with a jokingly suspicious expression, she scoffs, “Don’t look at me like that. It was a craving, and don't forget all of the times when you've bought ridiculous crap without telling me.”
“Fair enough.” Dream concedes with a shrug. Then, noticing that only his wife is standing behind him with their baby, he closes the freezer door and turns around fully. “Wait, where’s George? Did he leave?”
“No, he asked if he could look around.” Despite her own explanation, Valeria is also curious about her ex-boyfriends whereabouts. He’s been “exploring” for, like, twenty minutes. Following her husband’s gaze toward the hallway, she listens.
No sound. The rest of the house is silent.
“Do you think he’s on the toilet?” Dream whispers furtively, lowering his voice to prevent his friend from potentially eavesdropping.
“I don’t know.” Passing Marco into his father’s arms, Valeria volunteers, “Here, hold him while I find George.”
Leaving Dream in the kitchen, cradling their son in his arms while he waits, Valeria sneaks down the hallway. She pauses before every doorway, straining her ears and peeking into each room. Empty office, empty restroom, empty nursery -
A floorboard creaks in the bedroom. Valeria tenses. Now she understands why George asked for permission to explore their house. Maybe her friend believed he was invading a private space, trespassing on dangerous territory.
When she reaches the bedroom’s doorway, she sees the small man gazing upon framed photographs on the room’s opposite side. Unaware that he is being watched, George stands beside a wooden dresser, focused yet distant, as if he is reliving memories while investigating each photograph. Slender fingers reach to touch the frame of Valeria and Dream’s official wedding picture, gliding slowly along its edges. Perhaps he has seen Dream in a suit before, but he has never seen Valeria in a wedding dress. Jealousy makes him wish he had seen her wearing one beside him instead.
Valeria senses George's lingering shame. She holds her breath when her ex-boyfriend removes his fingers from the photograph’s frame. The air in the bedroom feels stifling, stuffy-yet-cold as the small man trails his gaze farther along the dresser. Valeria’s heart pounds when he notices the other pictures stacked behind a lamp: unframed Polaroid photographs that Valeria hides whenever her parents visit the house.
She knows exactly what he is looking at. She remembers confessing to Dream that she wanted to keep these pictures, from the time when she dated George. Her husband did not protest; he agreed that they were a wholesome reminder of their lost friend during his absence.
Valeria always imagined a scenario like this, where George discovered this stack of pictures from a bygone era, but she never expected that it would happen. Swallowing, she watches with unblinking eyes as he reaches to touch the stack. This time, George picks up the pictures, careful despite his curiosity. Valeria wonders if he realizes that, while he was gone, these pictures were the only evidence that he and Valeria were ever together at all. Now this elusive man has returned, shoulders heavy beneath the weight of his unspoken thoughts. Still holding the stack of Polaroid photographs, examining each one, he turns around.
Oh shit, he’ll see me - Without enough time to flee, Valeria freezes, eyes wide as George looks up.
Panicked, the ex-boyfriend gasps and hastily places the stack of photographs back onto the dresser. The stack falls over, spilling half-forgotten memories across the wooden surface.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry -”
“No, I’m sorry,” Valeria blurts, desperate to prevent him from disappearing again. “I didn’t mean to scare you -”
Spooked regardless of her reassurance, George hurries to pass his ex-girlfriend and escape the room. He does not run, but his pace is quick with embarrassment as she follows him back to the house’s main living area.
Hearing the commotion from the kitchen, Dream faces the hallway and raises his eyebrows with concern as George slips around the corner into view and toward the front door. Keeping his voice low to avoid disturbing Marco, he asks, “Where are you going, George?”
“Nowhere.” It is a complete lie. Actually George is going anywhere except here.
Valeria understands why her former lover is trying to leave, but she despises the hollow feeling in her chest as he grabs the door knob and exits the house without looking back.
“Dream, wait here.” Tapping her husband’s shoulder, Valeria huffs with the effort of moving her legs so soon after her birth. Stepping down from the porch, she calls after her ex-boyfriend before he can reach his car. “George, stop!”
The small man freezes with his fingers hooking under the car’s door handle. His eyes raise with mingled alarm and hope. “What?”
Panting with exhaustion, Valeria reaches the car and slows down. Standing on the opposite side of the vehicle from George, she makes eye contact with him from across the shiny roof. “I want you to come back.”
“Now?”
“Sometime.”
“Why?”
“You mean so much to me, and I’m so thankful for you even with everything that happened between us.” Unexpectedly stumbling directly into her confession, Valeria blusters onward. “I was so scared of what my parents thought about you that I didn’t stop to think about how I felt about you. You’re an amazing guy, George, and even though I’m happy with Dream, I never stopped caring for you, too.” Once she finishes, she leans forward against the car to catch her breath.
George listens in silence. Despite his scrunched expression in the harsh sunlight, his eyes are soft with emotion and gratitude before he releases his grip on the door handle. Wordlessly skirting the front of his car, he approaches Valeria and wraps arms around her for a tight hug.
Surprised, she embraces him with equal fervor, returning the gesture. Two rib cages swell against each other, pressing together with sweat dampening the fabric. For several seconds, the ex-lovers share this warm moment, inhaling each other’s scents of upholstery and the hospital. Neither of them would trade it for anything else.
For the first time, Valeria feels tears enter her eyes. George does not even need to say that he forgives her; he forgave her a long time ago.
Lifting her head from where it rested upon her ex-boyfriend’s shoulder, Valeria turns to gaze back at Dream. Her husband continues to watch awkwardly from the doorway, listening to their conversation. Smiling with amusement to herself, Valeria turns her head again, this time to look up at George. His usually pale cheeks are pink.
“Did you hug me just for an excuse to touch my boobs again?” She teases light-heartedly, breaking the last of their tension.
“What? No!” Flustered, George laughs and pulls away. He glances toward his friend in the doorway, then he returns his gaze to his ex-girlfriend. More seriously, he admits, “I think I needed that hug, though. Thank you.”
Valeria is nervous to admit that she needed George’s embrace as much as he needed hers. I need to talk with Dream about this. Would her husband understand if she admitted that she might not be monoamorous?
Later in the evening, long after George says his final farewells, Dream notices Valeria’s odd behavior. Sitting across the dinner table, he glances unsurely between his plate of food and his wife several times before he swallows his bite and asks, “Hey, uh, Val? Is everything okay?” The overhead light in the kitchen illuminates his backside, glowing upon broad shoulders and curly brown hair.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Drumming her fingers upon the tabletop, Valeria keeps her gaze focused upon the pile of lasagna on her plate. “I’m still just tired after the labor.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Concern glitters in Dream’s teal eyes. “You’ve been acting weird since George went back home. Did he say something else?”
“Well, no.” Deciding that now is probably better than later, Valeria sighs and makes eye contact for the first time since they sat down to eat dinner. “Actually, I wanted to say something to you.”
“Me?” Dream’s eyebrows lift. “Sure. What’s up?”
“I don’t really know how to say this, but just - please listen until I finish, okay?” When Dream nods, Valeria inhales a deep breath to begin, “Dream, listen. I’m happy with our marriage. I never regretted dating or marrying you, and I definitely don’t regret -” She jerks a thumb toward the hallway, where their baby Marco is asleep in his crib. “- him.” Nervously wiping locks of glossy black hair off her face, she continues, “But at the same time, you know how I was with George. He’s so - he’s also kind of - do you know what I’m trying to say?” She is sure that her husband will be confused, but to her surprise, Dream appears to understand.
“You still like George, too?” He guesses.
“Yeah, I think so.” Still uncertain about whether her husband will be upset, Valeria clarifies hastily, “I mean, maybe that’s just because I dated him for a while, but I wasn’t planning to cheat on you or anything like that, I promise -”
“I know that.” Dream’s unexpected calmness remains. “I’m not shocked, honestly.”
“You’re not?” Valeria blinks with disbelief.
“Actually, I’m just shocked that you said it,” he shrugs. “But no, that wasn’t new information to me.” With a sheepish smile, Dream explains, “Before you and I got together - and before you and George got together - he and I talked. We were already friends, of course, and we both kind of sensed that you might like both of us… so yeah. We talked about it.”
Valeria is astonished. She never said anything about being polyamorous to either of them, but they still figured it out anyway? Maybe I don’t know myself as well as I thought.
Dream watches his wife’s expression with an amused smirk until he finishes, “I wanted George to come back, but now he’s back, so I’m happy. I saw plenty of you two kissing while you guys were dating, and obviously I was jealous because I wanted to kiss you, too, but now?” Spreading his arms, he announces, “We’re married! We have a kid! I’m happy, so if making out with George will make you happy? I don’t care. As long as I don’t need to kiss George, too, then whatever.”
Hauling herself up from her chair, Valeria waits for her head to stop spinning before she skirts the table and wraps arms around her husband’s shoulders.
“I love you, Dream.” Her gratitude emerges as a relieved sob. “And I won’t love you any less if I start something with George again, I promise.”
“Good to know.” Blindly reaching up, Dream pats his wife’s shoulder to comfort her. “Also, I mean, we did literally just have a kid today, so yeah, I hope this won’t be the end of us or anything.”
“You mean I had a kid today,” Valeria corrects purposefully. “You just sat in a chair beside me.”
“I was still there for most of the time, though!” Dream scoffs defensively.
Too excited to continue the mock argument further, Valeria bounces a little, then she releases Dream’s shoulders. With renewed energy, she returns to her chair. She feels like she is floating, weightless and free. I’m out of the closet… and I didn’t even know that I was in a closet!
Immediately planning her next move, Valeria finishes her dinner without any of the tension that weighed upon her shoulders at its beginning. She cannot wait for George to learn that he was never second-best. Deep umber eyes will glow with happiness, and maybe they will fill with tears, too, when George discovers that he has always been part of this family.
***
Valeria’s mother visits the house on the day after her grandson’s birth. Her arrival is unexpected; Valeria is relaxing alone in the bedroom when a text notification causes her smartphone to vibrate on the bedside table.
Mama: Valeria I am outside.
Mama: I am here to see my baby.
Valeria swallows subconsciously when she reads these unsettling messages. Marco is her son, and after a morning of questioning her entire childhood - reliving memories that she would rather forget - Valeria does not appreciate the possessiveness behind her mother’s words.
Seconds later, a knock resounds upon the house’s front door. The sharp noise echoes through the house’s quiet air, startling the two men in the main living area. Unaware of the visitor, Dream and George sit up from the couch; the two friends bristle, sensing the unwelcome presence that resides on the porch outside.
When Valeria hurries out of the bedroom and jogs down the hallway, Dream squares his shoulders and stands from the couch, passing his one-day-old son into George’s arms for protection.
“It’s my mom,” Valeria whispers. Ironically this explanation only increases the tension in the room.
“Did you know she was coming?” Dream sends an alarmed glance toward George.
“No,” Valeria shakes her head. “She just texted, like, ten seconds ago.”
Together the husband and wife cross the main living area to approach the front door. Behind them, George cradles the baby against his chest, shushing it gently as he stands from the couch. The other man's presence in the house is still a delicate secret, so he slinks into the hallway to hide. Hopefully Valeria’s mother will not see him and learn the truth too soon.
“She’s here to see Marco,” Valeria murmurs. She does not attempt to soothe Dream’s tension, for her own dread is overwhelming, too. She cannot stop recalling her mother’s words, “my baby.” He’s not yours, she wants to say.
Reaching the front door, Valeria inhales a deep breath and sends a warning glance toward her husband. He nods slightly, acknowledging the tension in his wife’s expression.
Before the older woman can knock again, Valeria opens the front door.
“Mom, hello!”
“Valeria, my darling!” Her mother’s face brightens with satisfaction. Instead of asking how Valeria has been faring in the day since giving birth, the older woman skips directly to the reason for her visit: “How is little Marco doing?” Her tone is expectant; it grinds upon Valeria’s nerves.
“He’s fine,” the daughter forces a light tone. Hoping to prevent her mother from entering the house, Valeria explains, “He’s sleeping in his crib right now.”
“Well, then, I’ll hold him gently so he won’t wake up.” Slipping through the front doorway into the house, Valeria’s mother strides with determination past the kitchen and into the main living area with Valeria and Dream following; her sharp gaze searches each empty room until she turns toward the hallway.
“Mom, why are you here?”
“Why wouldn’t I be here?”
“I didn’t invite you.”
“Does your own mother need an invitation?” Paying no attention to her daughter’s protests, Valeria’s mother pushes open the door to the nursery. “Oh, wow! The paint on the walls is beautiful! You must’ve made Dream do it for you.”
Pursuing her mother with increasing annoyance, Valeria feels her husband prickle with embarrassment behind her. Her mother’s back-handed compliment sounds like an insult, implying that any quality housework must have been done by her son-in-law rather than by her own daughter. A flame ignites within Valeria’s chest, reminding her of every time when her mother underestimated or mischaracterized her. Abruptly she reaches the end of her temper.
“Mom, I don’t want you here.”
Startled, Valeria’s mother pauses halfway down the hallway. Her palm presses against the wooden surface of the door that leads to the office. Then her surprise morphs into indignance. “What did you just say to me?”
“I never invited you to my house, and I never invited you to come inside,” Valeria states firmly. “I gave birth yesterday, and if you had asked, I would’ve told you that I needed some time to recover. I still feel like I’m about to faint for half of the time!”
Before Valeria’s mother can respond, the office door swings open inward. Unaware that the group is directly outside, George overheard the brewing conflict and emerged to investigate. When natural light suddenly shines into the dimly-lit hallway, the three adults turn their heads instinctively to look.
George freezes in the doorway with Marco still in his arms against his chest. When his deep umber eyes meet the unexpected visitor's gaze, they widen with astonishment. “Oh. Hello.” In the same moment, he learns that his attempt to avoid discovery was futile; Valeria’s mother recognizes him immediately.
Skipping all pleasantries, she demands, “Why are you here?”
“I’m… just hanging out?” George offers a weak explanation. Intimidated, he glances at Valeria and Dream.
“Well, I hope you won’t be here for long,” the older woman’s tone is sharp with disapproval. “Marco will need a positive influence as he grows up so he can become a strong, handsome man… just like his father.” She sends a purposeful glance toward Dream, then an unfriendly scowl toward George.
Freckled cheeks flushing with embarrassment, Dream clears his throat. “I think we’ve got everything covered, Mrs. Gutierrez. You don’t need to worry about us.”
Hearing the uncertainty in her husband’s voice, Valeria decides that it is her responsibility alone to confront her mother.
“Mom, I know you think that you’re helping - that you’re doing what’s necessary - but you’re not. You’ve made decisions for me out of love, but I can’t let you keep doing that. I invited George to stay here because he makes me happy. He made me happy until you decided that it should be Dream who makes me happy. You need to let me make a decision this time.”
“I only made a recommendation,” her mother corrects sternly. “No daughter of mine would ever settle for someone who isn’t good enough for her.”
Still holding Marco, George stiffens; his eyes glisten with hurt. Moving from Valeria’s side, Dream stands beside him protectively.
“If I were a perfectionist, then I wouldn’t be able to settle for anyone, and you wouldn’t have a grandchild,” Valeria argues. “There isn’t anyone in the world who’s perfect! George has flaws, but Dream does, too. I have flaws. Even you have flaws… and you forgot to teach your daughter that flaws are okay.”
“Flawed or not, I hope you value your reputation enough to understand that you must consider what others think about you,” Valeria’s mother waves, dismissing her daughter’s argument. “If you do this whole dating-lots-of-men thing, then people will think things about you… and about me, too.”
“Then shame on them,” Valeria shrugs, crossing her arms. “The good people will realize that I can love whoever I want.”
“If you leave behind your morals, the morals that I thought I taught you, then your life will end before it has even begun.”
“I’ll start a new life,” Valeria decides. “Mom, I’ve changed. I fulfilled my promise to you to get my education and give you a grandchild. Now you need to respect your promise to me. Support me.”
Initially Valeria’s mother appears poised to retaliate, until she witnesses the unflinching determination upon her daughter’s face. The older woman appears to realize that if she is not careful, then she will sacrifice her connection with her daughter… and consequently her connection with her newborn grandson. Despite the smoldering resignation in Mrs. Gutierrez’s expression, she does not attempt to argue further. Grudgingly she accepts, “Alright, Valeria. I’ll support you, but don’t expect me to be happy about this.”
Drawing a deep inhale that rattles within her lungs, Valeria purses her lips, then she releases her breath in a soft sigh. “Okay, Mom. Thanks. You know I would never want to let you down.”
The air within the hallway is stuffy with tension even when no one speaks, but the confrontation could have gone much worse. It could have ended with Valeria screaming that she would never speak to her mother again. It could have ended with Mrs. Gutierrez deciding that she is too disappointed in her child to remain proud of her. Instead this conversation ends with neutrality between the mother and daughter… and relief between the awkwardly silent men who watch from the sidelines.
***
Two months later.
The local park is an ideal location for residents to visit. Elderly couples stroll along cobblestone pathways, teenagers practice skateboarding tricks near the parking lot, and groups of children squeal with delight as they play tag together on the playground. Beyond the treeline, a large expanse of lush grass forms the perfect area for a large gathering.
Today a couple will marry here at the park, but this union is not an official one. Therefore, all of the wedding’s attendees wear casual clothing.
Dream sits cross-legged upon one of the many picnic blankets that form the wedding’s audience. He faces away from the sun, keeping his baby safe in the shade of his broad shoulders.
Nearby, several of Valeria’s former classmates from the dental school are here to support their friend after their graduation last week, but there is also a married couple who sits apart from everyone else. Valeria’s parents are here, too. Sitting further from the ceremony’s center than the rest of the attendees, they are visibly displeased but still unwilling to miss this major event in their daughter’s life.
Valeria never would have predicted that she would have a second marriage, and technically this assumption was correct. Today’s wedding ceremony is unofficial: a symbolic union rather than a legal one. However, this does not bother her. Becoming a mother and earning her license to practice dentistry have revealed that this is the prime time of her life for positive changes.
Inhaling a deep breath, the bride stands beyond the audience. The ceremony’s attendees witness a flash of white in their peripheral vision and turn their heads, cheering and clapping as Valeria begins to approach the center of the gathering on the grass. The only person who does not see her is George, who was required to face away from her at the ceremony’s beginning.
When someone plays a processional song on their smartphone with the volume turned up, the new husband waits nervously. Shoulders tense, he stares down at his own shadow while his throat dries and sunlight warms the back of his suit. He forgets the disapproval of Valeria’s parents, he forgets the breakup with the woman of his dreams, and he forgets his jealousy of the man who stole her heart. None of that matters anymore. Starting now, he will live in the same house as Valeria and Dream, not as a painful reminder of the past, but rather as an equal partner.
“Dude, turn around!” Dream’s shout drags George from his thoughts. Covering his young son’s ears, the seated man adds, “Val is literally right there behind you!”
Flinching with surprise, George whirls around. First sunlight overwhelms him; he squints and scrunches his face. Then the view becomes clear: a broad expanse of grass, a distant playground, a lush treeline, an audience of peers and parents on picnic blankets… and best of all, his new wife waiting excitedly before him. Alongside a beaming smile, Valeria wears the same flowery dress that she wore for her official ceremony with Dream last year. George’s buttoned collar feels tight around his neck as his chest swells with pride.
Skipping the usual process of reading and reciting vows, George and Valeria face each other, nearly breathless until he stammers, “So… are we married now, or do I need to do anything else?”
Grinning with joy, Valeria confirms, “You bet we’re married now! Now get over here, you bitch!” Launching forward with her arms spread, she embraces her new husband before they share their first public kiss. Both newlyweds are elated, barely aware of the audience’s applause as their heart rates peak.
From his picnic blanket, Dream whoops with celebration. Even Valeria’s parents offer a slow clap from the edge of the audience. No one can doubt that the polyamorous group is happier now than they have ever been before.
After George and Valeria pull away from each other and face the audience together, the unofficial wedding ceremony ends. Attendees stand from their picnic blankets, offering final cheers and shouts of approval before they gather their belongings. Everyone says final goodbyes to Dream, George, Marco, and Valeria before they leave for other commitments while the wedding hosts thank each of their attendees for coming.
Valeria’s parents are some of the last guests to depart. Still uncomfortable with the idea that their daughter is unified with two men simultaneously, they treat the polyamorous group with cold courtesy and a “congratulations” that does not feel genuine. However, Valeria still accepts their attempted support with a polite nod. It will take time for her parents to adjust, but she is glad they are not so intolerant that she will need to live without them.
Once the polyamorous group is finally alone, standing together in the field beyond the park, Dream passes Marco into George’s arms. With free hands, he leans down to grab the final picnic blanket and other belongings off the grass.
“Let’s get lunch after this,” George suggests. Like Dream, he turns away from the sunlight so Marco is safe in the shade of his body.
“Sounds good to me,” Valeria agrees, brushing against her husbands’ shoulders as they walk.
Together the polyamorous group - now a family - leaves the park behind. They return to the car, where George straps Marco into his child car seat and Dream tosses the folded picnic blanket into the trunk. Valeria sits in the driver’s seat, watching through the rear view mirror as her husbands argue about where they would rather eat for lunch.
“I’m telling you, George, if you eat at that steak restaurant one more time this week, you’re gonna get sick of it.” Closing the trunk, Dream skirts around the vehicle to sit in the passenger seat.
“I can’t get sick of good food,” George disagrees, hopping into the back seat alongside Marco.
“That’s what you said when you first moved in,” Dream reminds him, buckling his seat belt. “But now whenever I ask if I should cook steak, you complain that it sucks.”
“Steak from a restaurant is good, idiot,” George scoffs. “It’s your steak that sucks.”
“Don’t act like restaurants make their steaks with magic or something,” Dream argues. “It’s more cost-effective to buy steaks from the grocery store even if the quality isn’t as good, and if you don’t like the way that I cook, then you need to tell me in the moment so I know what to do differently in the future -”
“Guys.” With light-hearted exasperation, Valeria interrupts the discussion. “No arguments on the wedding day, okay? You’re both dads now, so you need to learn to set a good example.”
Diverting their attention away from each other, Dream and George blink at Valeria with surprise. Their banter was not malicious, yet they both understand the sentiment. Both of them will act as parental figures for Marco, so they must pay attention to the way that they behave in front of their son.
“Alright, fine,” Dream admits defeat with a dramatic sigh. “We can go to the restaurant that George likes.”
“And we’ll get some good steaks,” George smirks, savoring his victory. “Finally.”
Smiling with amusement in the driver’s seat, Valeria drags the fabric of her wedding dress away from the pedals and powers up the engine. Rolling down the windows, she allows fresh afternoon air to filter into the car. As the new family drives into the city toward George’s favorite steak restaurant, they savor the warm comfort that wreaths around them. With nothing left unsaid or unknown between them, the family begins their new lives together - happier - again.