two puzzle pieces

“Scout asked me if you and I were married, and I said no, and he asked if you were married to someone else.”

“Is now when I’m supposed to fess up?” Kai chuckled, propping their phone up against the vase on the coffee table. “Where’d he get that from?”

“Well, he knows that people wear rings when they’re married, and you wore a lot of rings the last time you were here, so you’re definitely married.”

“Soon you’re gonna have to explain polyamory to him.” They raised their eyebrows as Amelia rolled her eyes. “What’d you tell him?”

“That people can wear rings without being married. But, I’m pretty sure he’s telling Link that you and I are married, which will be a super interesting conversation next time I see him.”

“You ever think about it?”

“Think about what?”

“Getting married.”

“No,” she chuckled, “because I know I don’t want to.” She paused, biting her bottom lip as she thought. “Do you think about it?”

“A little, but that’s mostly just because we’re constantly seeing things in the news about gay marriage, so it’s a little hard to avoid.” Amelia watched as they picked up their laptop and leaned back into the couch, her stomach sinking as she recounted their words.

“Do you want to get married?”

“Not particularly. I’m not opposed to it, but I don’t need to, and you don’t want to, so I’m fine with that.” They looked over at their phone. “Did I freak you out with that?”

“A little.” She pursed her lips. “That’s just how things ended with Link, and you said it, and it just,” she shrugged. “It brought back some not-so-great feelings.”

“Well, it’s not something I need to happen. We can get paperwork to do almost anything that a legal marriage would give us, and who knows if we’ll even be able to get married in a few years from now.”

“That’s a little dark.”

“I’m being realistic.” They shrugged. “But, we don’t need to be married to be with each other. Queer people have lived all throughout history without getting married.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “How would you feel if I made you my emergency contact?”

Am I seeing you tonight?

Amelia drummed her thumbs against the side of her phone as typing bubbles appeared on her screen.

I can’t tonight, I’m sorry. FMD.

She frowned, immediately pulling up Google and typing in those three letters.

Fibromuscular Dysplasia?