“Marry us,” is all he says.
I spot the tears welling in the corners of his eyes. I look at the faces of the others. I love them all so much. I don’t need the ring to prove that. Or a ceremony, but they want it, and I want them. An image of the
five of them dressed in tuxedos flashes in my mind. And then the honeymoon. I bite my lip and blurt out, “Yes. I will take you all as my husbands. It will be an honor to be your wife.”
I hold out my left hand and with the others’ permission he slips the ring on my finger, sealing our promise to one another for the rest of our lives.