Disclaimer: I don't own ATWT or its characters. Yet.
The bride was lovely. Really, she was, the groom reminded himself. Her big brown eyes shone with affection in the warmth of the breezy summer afternoon.
Maybe she wasn't what he'd pictured when he'd imagined this day. All right. She definitely wasn't what he'd pictured when he'd imagined this day. But it would be fine. It would be good.
The dream was what he had pictured, of course. That beautiful, maddening, tempestuous whirlwind that he'd wanted so badly to hang onto. But it had slipped from his grasp. It wasn't to be, and he knew it now. He finally accepted that he wasn't what the dream wanted.
If he had been, the dream would've come to him. Not remained across the country for two years, never once appearing on his doorstep. So today, he would once and for all stop hoping for the impossible.
He'd made the decision to move on. It was the survival instinct at its most basic. Hanging onto that hope was killing him, and while he'd been miserable, he wasn't suicidal. So he would do this to survive.
The minister's words surrounded him, yet seemed distant as the groom looked to his bride. She was smiling at him; a small, encouraging smile. Reassurance. This will be wonderful. We'll be happy - you'll see.
She knew, of course. She'd sat with him as he mourned his lost dream; listened as he worried he couldn't live without it. She held his hand; let him rail at the fates. Finally, suggested maybe they could find a new dream - together.
He thanked her, and promptly turned her down. Said she needed better than someone who couldn't love her like she deserved. She persisted; insisted. She wanted this.
She'd had enough experience with the thrills of heady romance. The love of her life was lost, too. Now, she just wanted a family.
Good people to love and call her own. She knew he was good. He would be an amazing father, and she wanted that for her children.
As she painted idyllic pictures of the life they could have, he reconsidered. If neither of them could have their great loves, why shouldn't they at least have the family each wished for? So, it wouldn't be exactly what either had envisioned.
Didn't they deserve some happiness, though? They did love each other. Their friendship would carry them through life; comfort and keep them.
The groom tuned back in to the minister's voice. "If anyone can show just cause why this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now, or forever hold your peace." He knew there would be no objections.
"Stop!"
And just like that, the dream returned. With the sound of that voice, all the best laid plans to move on - to build something admittedly lesser but still good - dissolved in smoke. The groom opened his mouth, needing to form some sort of apology to the bride he would necessarily jilt, but she held a hand up to stop him.
"Go," she said simply. Understandingly. Because she was a lovely girl, she instantly set aside the loss of her own future. Let go of the daydreams of tousling the coal-black hair of her precious, blue-eyed children.
She saw that he still had a shot at the ultimate - the happily-ever-after love of childhood fairy tales and grown-up hearts. She was determined he would take it. It even gave her a glimmer of hope for herself. If his dream could rise like the phoenix from the ashes, maybe hers could, too.
The groom leaned down, placing a gentle kiss of gratitude on her face. Then, finally, he turned to meet his real future. Their eyes connected, and the outside world tumbled away.
The other man looked different. Gone was the soft, spiky hair, his dirty blond locks now hanging long - wild and unkempt, like the man himself. A five o'clock shadow enhanced the appearance of wanderlust; of a soul who was stranded far from home and spent too long trying to fight his way out of the wilderness.
But the eyes were the same - still the open windows to his heart that they had always been. The former groom could read every emotion within them. Despair. Want. Hope. Desperation. Love. Please.
The acceleration of his footsteps carried him forward, just as the other man collapsed, landing in his arms. He pulled the dream tightly to him, consoling through the choked sobbing of words probably unintelligible to most onlookers. But he heard; he knew.
I'm so sorry
Please be with me
I can't do it, I can't live without you
Please don't leave me
I love you
Please...
"Shh," he comforted, his hand combing through the new length over and over again as he soothed. "I won't leave. I'll never leave you. Shh, it's all right. I've got you; I love you." He secured the dream closer, pressing kisses to his forehead, his nose, his cheeks - his lips.
He kept his future tightly locked within his arms as he quietly walked them away. Away from living half an existence, and towards the all-encompassing joy that was life as them. Never again would he delude himself that he could ever settle for anything less.