A/N: Oh, what an angsty episode.
What's gone and what's past help should be past grief
-The Winter's Tale
It's a strange thing, being at a wedding that might have been yours.
You swallow down the fish you chose—salmon, garnished with peppercorns—trace a finger lightly over the flowers you tried to get Roy's opinion on.
You're—you're not sorry this isn't you. You can't be.
But the truth is, you're not quite sure what to feel anymore. You're glad it's not you and Roy, but that doesn't mean it shouldn't be you and—
Someone. Maybe it would be nice to be with someone.
It weighs on you more, as the night goes on. Everything is loud and blurry and always glancing past you, a stream of chaos that you have no real part in. There's nobody to talk to; normally, you'd seek out Jim at a time like this. But after your last exchange, you're afraid he'll ask you to dance.
You're more afraid that he won't.
And this is so stupid. You. Here. Thinking about silly things. Of course, it's best to err on the side of caution, just like it always has been. Dancing with Jim would be fine, because you are just friends. But it might make Karen uncomfortable, and you don't want that.
You feel like crying, after a while. Not outright sobbing—just a slow trickle of aimless misery that would offer no relief. You're grateful for Roy's intrusion, and then he mentions the song.
In that moment, even twenty dollars means a lot. A lot more, maybe, than stolen glances and things unsaid.
You dance. He's familiar, and it's nice to be warm again, held fast by arms that you know. He's looking at you. He's here for you.
He's here.
It feels natural, after that. Slipping into old ways. Why did you ever let this go? It wasn't perfect, but nothing is.
Someone is, whispers in your mind, but you push the thought away. Someone can't be depended upon. Someone left you.
You don't have time for things unsaid.