Three men wanted the same woman. The woman wanted to stop crying. Nobody was getting what they wanted and the corridor was running out of square footage for the tension.
Somewhere in the universe, the god who invented matebonds was watching this unfold on a giant screen while eating grapes.
A love triangle implies three points. This was a love quadrilateral with a crying woman at the center and three men who each believed, with full conviction, that they were the hypotenuse.
Guinevere was wiping her eyes and trying to get herself together with the visible effort of a woman whose emotional scaffolding had been taking hits all night and was running out of beams. She hadn't looked up yet. She was busy fighting a war with her own tear ducts and losing.
Two reaching. One holding. Only one of them was married to her.
Kael and Nicholas let go at the same time.
