Adrian stared at the wedding photograph until the screen dimmed.

Then he tapped it awake and stared some more.

He recognized his own face. That was the problem. He recognized the ridiculous happiness on it, too, though he couldn't remember feeling it.

"No," he whispered.

He zoomed in. His hand on Elliot's cheek. His ring. His unmistakable crooked smile.

"No, no, no."

The photo was not a clever fake. There were twenty more, showing the same ceremony from different angles. In one, Noah stood behind the couple, crying with laughter.

Adrian pressed his call button, then immediately canceled it. This was not a medical emergency.

It was worse. It was a romantic catastrophe.

He called Noah instead.

"What time is it?" Noah groaned.

"WHY AM I KISSING ELLIOT IN A WEDDING PHOTO?"

Silence.

Then Noah began laughing so hard he couldn't answer.

"Noah!"

"Oh, thank God," Noah gasped. "You finally opened the album."

"I married him?"

"Three years ago. You wore a suit that cost more than my first car."

"And you let me try to steal him?"

"You were stealing him from yourself. It was historically funny."

Adrian hung up.

He spent the next ten minutes replaying every word he had said since waking. His compliments. His questions. His declaration that Elliot deserved someone better.

Worst of all: So when are you getting divorced?

Adrian buried his face in his pillow.

When Elliot arrived the next morning, Adrian was waiting upright in bed, fully dressed, holding his phone like evidence in a courtroom.

Elliot stopped in the doorway.

"Good morning?"

Adrian raised the screen.

"THAT'S ME?!"

Elliot looked at the wedding picture. His eyes widened slightly, then his mouth curved.

"Congratulations, sweetheart. You found your husband."

Adrian's face went scarlet.

"You knew."

"Yes."

"The whole time?"

"Every second."

"And you let me ask when you were getting divorced?"

Elliot set his bag down. "You seemed very interested."

"I was interested in you!"

"I noticed."

Adrian made a helpless noise. Elliot crossed the room, but instead of laughing again, he sat beside him.

"I'm sorry," Elliot said. "It was funny at first, and then I didn't know how to tell you without making everything worse. I should have been honest sooner."

Adrian looked down at the photograph. "You really married me?"

"I did."

"Why?"

Elliot's smile turned gentler. "You spent a year convincing me."

"Was I persuasive?"

"Persistent. You sent flowers to my office every Friday. You learned to cook because I got sick once. You even adopted the ugly plant I couldn't keep alive."

"Did it survive?"

"No. But you tried."

Adrian laughed, then sobered. "Did I make you happy?"

Elliot paused. "Yes. A lot of the time."

"That's not the same as always."

"Marriage isn't always happy, Adrian. But it was real."

He showed Adrian their wedding video. Adrian watched himself take Elliot's hands and promise to love him through every ordinary day.

He expected embarrassment. Instead, he felt an ache he couldn't name.

"I don't remember saying any of this," he whispered.

"I know."

"Do you hate me for forgetting?"

Elliot shook his head immediately. "You didn't choose this."

Adrian looked at their joined hands. "I don't know how to be your husband."

"You don't have to figure it out today."

Noah arrived carrying a bag of clean clothes and the self-satisfied expression of a man about to commit a minor crime.

"Before we leave," he announced, "I have something to share."

"Don't," Adrian said.

Noah pressed play on his phone.

Adrian's own voice filled the room: "Give me one chance. I'll make you forget your husband."

Elliot burst out laughing.

Adrian lunged for the phone, forgot about the bruises in his shoulder, and immediately regretted it.

"Delete that."

"Absolutely not," Noah said. "This belongs in a museum."

"I'll buy the museum and close it."

"Then I'll sell tickets before you get there."

The discharge nurse arrived while they were arguing. She reviewed medication, rest, follow-up appointments, and warning signs that would require urgent care.

Adrian listened more carefully than he had to Noah's jokes.

"Can I go back to work?" he asked.

"Not immediately," the nurse said. "Start with rest. Your doctor will reassess your activity level. No driving until you're cleared."

"What about going home?"

"Yes, with someone to help you."

Adrian looked at Elliot. "Would you?"

"Of course," Elliot said.

"I mean, would you want to? After all this?"

Elliot touched his hand. "Adrian, I was coming home with you before you knew my name."

The words settled somewhere deep inside him.

At the pharmacy counter downstairs, Elliot checked the medication schedule twice. Adrian stood beside him with the bag of discharge papers and tried not to look helpless.

"I used to handle complicated contracts," he said.

"You still can. Just not while your head hurts."

"You sound like you've told me that before."

"Different words. Same argument."

Adrian watched Elliot pay for the prescription before he could reach for his wallet.

"Let me," Adrian said.

"It's already done."

"I don't want you taking care of everything."

Elliot met his eyes. "Then get better and help me with the dishes."

Adrian smiled. "Deal."

On the elevator ride back upstairs, they stood shoulder to shoulder. Elliot didn't reach for him, and Adrian wondered whether the distance was deliberate.

"Are you angry?" he asked.

"About what?"

"The things I said when I woke up."

"They hurt for a minute," Elliot admitted. "But you didn't know who I was."

"Still. I wish I'd been kinder."

"You were pretty kind once you saw me. In your own ridiculous way."

Adrian breathed out. "I'm sorry anyway."

Elliot looked at him, then gently bumped his shoulder. "Apology accepted."

Later, while Noah went to bring the car around, Adrian and Elliot stood alone beside the hospital window.

"I keep thinking about the photo," Adrian said.

"Which one?"

"The one where I'm kissing you."

Elliot raised an eyebrow. "There are a lot of those."

"Apparently I had good hobbies."

Elliot laughed. Adrian moved closer, then stopped, suddenly uncertain.

"Do you mind if I hold your hand?"

Elliot offered it without hesitation.

"Did we pick these together?" Adrian asked.

"You wanted something enormous," Elliot said. "I told you I needed to be able to bend my fingers."

"So you won."

"We compromised."

"I suspect that means you won."

Elliot laughed and turned his ring, revealing a tiny inscription inside.

"What does it say?" Adrian asked.

"Always, even on Tuesdays."

"Why Tuesdays?"

"You said anybody could be romantic on an anniversary. You wanted to love me on boring Tuesdays, too."

Adrian looked down at his own ring. For a moment, the inscription seemed more meaningful than any wedding photograph.

Adrian studied the matching rings. "So this is real."

"Very real."

"And you're not planning to leave?"

"Not today."

Adrian looked up quickly. Elliot's smile was teasing, but there was something tired behind it.

Adrian wanted to ask about that tiredness. He wanted to know what he had missed and whether he could make it right.

For now, he tightened his fingers gently around Elliot's.

"You know," Elliot said, "you were awfully determined to break up my marriage."

"I have been informed. Repeatedly."

"So, do you still want me to divorce my husband?"

Adrian drew him closer, careful to give him time to pull away. Elliot didn't.

"No. I've changed my mind. I want my husband back."