So I thought I'd try something a bit unexpected! I hope you enjoy this. It will be multi-chap but it's not going to be very long. Expect about 5ish? I do have it all planned out but it may take me a while, pretty busy recently. Let me know what you think!
You can feel the world melting beneath your feet, the very earth you stand on turning into liquid and swallowing you whole. Your heart is beating quicker than you thought possible, and a nauseating heat swells over your body. You hadn't realised that you were the problem. The paper in your hand seems to change everything.
'You are cordially invited to the wedding of Harry Cunningham and Lisa Jackson'
You know that Jack is talking to you, that it's blatantly clear that you're upset and that you definitely shouldn't be. It's been a year after all. You hide the paper and feign a smile, commenting quickly that your ex-best friend is getting married, and that this is the first you've heard of it and you wish you'd remained close. You'd have put money on him seeing straight through you, but he seems to buy your excuses.
You wonder if Leo knew, if he was trying to shield you. Not that you care. You haven't spoken much to Harry since he left you. No matter that he's never far from your thoughts.
You look up and smile, planting a loveless kiss on the cheek of your colleague and lover of a year, the man you'd sworn once to hate, and instead pretended to love, hoping in vain to spark some jealousy from the States. Before long it had become routine. He didn't need to know who you were picturing when you slept together. He didn't need to know how you felt.
A few minutes pass and you find yourself needing to know more. You excuse yourself and dial Leo's familiar number, heart breaking as he admits he has known for a while, but was trying to convince Harry to tell you himself. You realise sadly that you didn't even know he was with someone, let alone that he was ready to commit. You realise that all along, he just didn't want you. You'd always put his leaving down to fear of commitment, but you'd been wrong all along.
Leo is imploring you now, insisting that you go. He doesn't want to go alone, and as Jack isn't invited you can accompany each other. Harry has okayed it for the two of you to stay in his house for the week up to and including the wedding, he tells you. Reluctantly you agree, but you swear to yourself that it'll be the last time you ever see Harry.
The next two months are an unhappy blur, and you only have time to blink before you find yourself landing in New York, looking glumly at Leo as the seat belt sign darkened and people around you start to jump up and grab their hand luggage. You're in no rush to leave the plane and start your week of hell. Typically, your bags are some of the first out onto the carousel, and you can't prolong the moment any longer.
He's stood, leaning casually against a column, looking better, if possible, than you remember. A wild smile breaks out on his face as he notices the two of you, and as you reach him, you stand by awkwardly as he throws his arms around a laughing Leo in a hug that can only be described as a bromance. They break up, and he turns to you, ready to hug you just as tightly until he reads your expression, and leans in gently with one arm, a soft embrace that could hold so much more. You look to the floor, smiling reluctantly, and you feel his hand on your back as he leads you both to his car. You note with horror the large black SUV that he drives now, and you roll your eyes as he lifts your bags easily into the boot. You may be in America, but you refuse to call it a trunk like he does.
You take your place in the back and sulk silently for the journey back, annoyed that the volume of Leo and Harry's catch up prevents you from having a sleep. There is such a thing as jet lag, after all. The event you were dreading more than your reintroduction to your ex-best friend is still to come, the introduction to his fiancée.
You groan inwardly when the car stops moving, the slight jolt of the halting momentum nudging you out of your day dreams and back to the present. You climb begrudgingly out of the car, parked on the street side outside a tall apartment building, where Harry and Lisa apparently share a two storey, two bedroom flat. You look upwards and cringe. You could never live somewhere so blank. The building isn't a home but a shelter. You thought you knew what it was going to be like before you stepped inside. You remember fondly his flat in London, and you remember how you'd crave the opportunity to add a woman's touch to the blank walls and modern furnishings. The odd antique, patterned cushions and floral wall hangings would make all the difference.
As Harry pushed back the door and you followed him and Leo inside, you furrow your brow a little at the large, sequin framed mirror, the glittering cushions and the deep purple throws on the sofa. The open plan layout was typically Harry, but the decor was an outside source. You notice that he's looking at you and you meet his gaze momentarily for the second time this evening, and he rolls his eyes slightly, as if to blame his wife-to-be. You smirk and look away while Harry shows Leo how to pull out the sofa bed that he'll be staying on. You can hear movement from upstairs and your heart beats as fast as it did when you first found out that Harry was tying the knot. You swallow and begin to chew on your lower lip, a clear sign to anyone that knew you that you were nervous. Harry isn't looking at you, he's explaining to Leo that he's going to tell Lisa that you've arrived, but as soon as he disappears upstairs Leo turns to you and puts a hand on your shoulder.
"You'll be fine" He whispers, and you nod silently. He nudges you when you continue to bite your lip, and you realise what you're doing and try to stop, taking instead to playing with your fingernails. You don't know what to expect. You assume that to keep Harry's attention she must be attractive, and you know well his usual type. All you know is her name, and your mind is bringing up picture after picture to try and pre-empt her arrival.
Thuds of footsteps on the stairs clang in your ears and you want nothing more than to be at home in London, tucked up in your bed alone and crying your eyes out. Anywhere but here. Harry is gingerly stepping down and waits at the bottom. You can tell from his face that he's nervous too, worried that you'll do something stupid. Are you really that obvious?
The image that fills your eyes is enough to make you seriously contemplate leaving. Lisa is tall, much closer to Harry's height than you would be even in heels, with gorgeous, gently curled dark hair that is nothing like your messy blonde nest. She has a large chest, but an impossibly small waist, and hips that echo her chest and accentuate her idyllic hourglass figure; the opposite of your tiny, skinny body. Her cheekbones are perfect and she has glossy, dark eyes and plump lips, and standing next to her you feel worse than you ever have about yourself. You need to sigh and question how anything is fair, but you have an appearance to keep up. You put on a warm smile which she half-returns as she wraps you in a hug. As she greets you, you notice her thick American accent and cringe a little. She proceeds to greet Leo, then wraps her arm straight around the back of Harry, and you can't help but think she's marking her territory and showing you where you stand. You don't need to be shown.
Any ounce of confidence you ever had has been destroyed by the way this perfect woman acts around the man you used to hope would one day be yours.
There's no point hoping. There's no point pretending.
You don't need anyone to tell you why he's picked this incredible woman over you.