“Hold on,” he said as he served himself and Finn.
She swiveled in her chair and looked at Angel as he loaded his plate up. “Dada?”
“You’re an impatient one; Papa’s making sure your tiny mouth doesn’t burn.”
Her face crumpled a little and she began to whimper; Ryan explained again, “It’s too hot, petal.”
“Ari, look at me,” Finn said, crossing his hands over his eyes in a game of peekaboo. She sniffled the first three times, but the fourth time, she giggled. Finn continued to amuse his sister until Ryan was content that her food had cooled enough to set it on her tray. She immediately seized a piece of baby corn and gnawed on it, making little pleased noises as she munched on her food. They all began eating, and there wasn’t any talking, which let Ryan know that the stir-fry was pretty good.
“Is that why you couldn’t get me at the hospital when I broke my foot?” Finn asked suddenly.
“Yeah, that’s why we had to wait for your dad to come before I could come see you.”
“Will you be able to come get me if you guys get married?”
“Well, that’s a different process,” Angel interjected.
Finn nodded introspectively and clarified, “I want you to be able to come get me, Papa.”
“Me too,” Ryan assured him, and that seemed to resolve it for Finn. He went back to his meal, but Angel wouldn’t look up at Ryan. He was worried, and he knew he shouldn’t be, but he was. The rest of dinner, he could feel Ryan’s puppy-dog gaze boring into him, but he kept his eyes on his plate and methodically speared each item.
Arya went to bed first. After a few board books, she easily flopped into her crib. She was asleep when Angel went to check on her fifteen minutes later. They turned off the TV at eight, and Finn knew that was his cue to go to his room. Finn got ready for bed, and they read a chapter of his current school book together.
Ryan was doing some work when Angel was done reading, so Angel sketched. He drew Ryan's hands as they moved across the keyboard, paying close attention to the new addition to Ryan’s left hand. He felt elated, possessive. Every once in a while, Ryan would stop typing and twirl the ring around his finger as he read something, a little grin on his face. After sketching, Angel’s fingers itched to paint and find the exact tone of Ryan’s skin and the platinum band against it. Ryan had started to glance at him more, and he knew it was sometimes distracting for Ryan when Angel sketched him, so he set down the pen. Painting could happen later.
Ryan finished his work before the news came on at eleven. They headed to their room to watch the news and go to bed. Ryan immediately flopped onto his side, and Angel felt a vague wave of disgruntlement. He'd been expecting a bigger reaction from him— a blowjob at least, after today. Ryan never laid like this unless he was mad at Angel, and he'd seemed so happy about the ring. Angel couldn't quite place what he'd done. He slid his fingers into Ryan’s hair and a minuscule tensing of Ryan's muscles made his stomach drop.
“I love you,” Angel said softly.
“I love you too,” Ryan responded, but he didn’t move.
“I can't wait to marry you,” Angel whispered, trying again.
“Me too.”
Angel kept his hand on the back of Ryan’s head, a gesture that would usually relax Ryan. Normally, he would quickly fall asleep, but Angel could tell he was purposefully evening out his breaths, which sounded forced and calculated.
“What’s wrong?”
“I love Finn and Arya.”
“I know.”
“I want to adopt them.”
Angel remained silent. Hope was swelling in his chest, mixed with disbelief. He should have expected this, but somehow, he couldn't bring himself to. He never expected much. Maybe that was his problem. Ryan was upset, he could tell.
“I want to be able to get them from the hospital if they get hurt. I don’t want people to question my relationship to them. I want to be responsible for them. If something ever happens to you, I want them to stay with me.”
“It’s a lot of responsibility.”
Ryan laughed. “You act like I haven’t been doing it for over two years with you.”
“But it’ll be different.”
“Yeah, I won’t have to worry about seeing my kids if something happens to you or if something happens to us. I don’t want to have to worry about the generosity of others. I want everything that comes with legal responsibility.”
“I’d never keep them from you,” Angel pointed out.
“That’s not the point. I don’t want my relationship with them to be contingent on my relationship with you. I want us to be equal when it comes to them.”