AN: Yes, I am now Reylo trash. I'm not even mad.

"I'll wear my black suit, black tie, hide out in the back
I'll do a strong shot of whiskey straight out the flask
I'll try to make it through without crying so nobody sees
Yeah, she wanna get married
But she don't wanna marry me.

She got on her dress now, welcoming the guests now
I could try to find her, get it off of my chest now…
Yeah, she wanna get married
Yeah, she gonna get married
But she ain't gonna marry me
Whoa, she ain't gonna marry me, no."

Marry Me, Thomas Rhett

An unmistakable letter appeared in his mailbox one day in late April. He'd heard rumors, of course. The happy couple and their romantic engagement had been splashed across social media. He'd avoided going online for a week. Maybe everyone had one in their life – the one that got away. An unattainable fantasy. In his kitchen, he'd looked at the heavy card stock of the wedding invitation for the better part of ten minutes and, before he could stop himself, burned the damn thing and watched the ashes blow away in the wind.

She'd called two weeks later. Looking at his caller ID, he almost didn't pick up. "We haven't received your response yet, Ben. Won't you be joining us?"

"I…" I love you. Seeing you marry him will destroy whatever is left of me. You're marrying the wrong man. In the end, he couldn't come up with a better excuse. "I'm sure it got lost in the mail."

"Oh." Rey's usually upbeat voice sounded defeated.

"Is there anything else?" Talking to the woman of his dreams who would soon be marrying someone else was exquisite torture.

"Actually…"

"Yes?"

"Wasn't there a rumor that you know how to dance?"

"What?"

"In high school or college. Didn't your mom force you to learn how?"

"I guess." It was true. His mother had enrolled him in ballroom classes, and weirdly enough, he had enjoyed them. It wasn't a skill he went around broadcasting, but it occasionally had its uses. "Why?"

"The thing is…"

"You need a teacher." He could think of no more unbearable situation than holding Rey in his arms or watching her in someone else's.

"Something like that. I love him, but Finn has two left feet and I want to have an amazing first dance."

'Let me think about it' had been his response, which was how, one week before the wedding, he had ended up filling in for Finn for a last minute rehearsal. Although Ben had been able to get out of much of the actual practices, sending links and suggestions, he'd had to be present a few times. And although every time he swore he wouldn't go back, he still turned up – too afraid to let Rey down.

"Where is Finn?"

"Poe surprised him with some last minute bachelor thing."

"And you're okay with that?"

"It's fine. I trust him. Well, Finn at least…"

The studio space was empty, and he'd heard Ed Sheeran's 'Thinking Out Loud' far too many times over the past hour. Although their time together was almost up, he found himself asking, "Can we try something different? Just to change things up?" She hesitated and he asked quietly, "Please?"

"Sure." Even in her heels and yoga pants with a sweaty tank top, she looked gorgeous. "I've got time for one more song."

Ben pretended to scroll through his phone. He already knew the tune he wanted. The familiar opening chords of 'Back Down South' by Kings of Leon played from his smartphone, which he placed on the floor. He took a deep breath and offered his hand.

She paused in front of him. "I hope I don't step on you."

As if her tiny frame would cause any damage to his much larger one. "It will be fine, I promise."

"I know. I can trust you, Ben."

"I know you don't know the steps, but follow my lead, and you should be fine."

Her perfume, a sweet scent he had always associated with daisies and springtime, washed over him. Her hand, so much smaller than his own, fit perfectly, and he pulled her close. They didn't speak, but he twirled her around the floor, bringing her in as close as he dared. At the end of the song, her cheeks were rosy as he moved her into an elaborate dip. Intentionally, their faces were close, and, although he hadn't exerted himself, he was breathing hard. Forcing himself to look at her, he searched Rey's face for anything he could latch onto. Her lips were so near… Was she bending towards him or was it his imagination?

Their concentration was broken by the sound of a text on his phone. He gently released her, cursing silently to himself.

And now it was the actual damn day of the damn wedding, and he couldn't remember when he felt more miserable. Not noticing the looks of approval from guests in the way he filled out his somber black suit, he reached to his inside pocket and pulled out a flask, given to him by his usually absent father. The liquid inside was perilously close to running out, and Ben found himself not caring that much. He was going to sit at the back and skip the reception.

Why was he here?

Why hadn't he said anything to her?

Rising quickly, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked out of the venue. He'd done his piece. He'd shown them how to dance. He'd signed the registry. What more was needed?

He found himself driving to a nearby bar. What would happen next? Seeing pictures of their honeymoon? Could he move to another town? "Another, please."

Just then, the bar went silent as a woman in a white dress appeared in the doorway. Her makeup, which had at one time been perfect, was now smudged around her eyes. She pointed across the dimly lit room at him. "You."

AN: A wonderful interlude has been written for this chapter, focusing on Han and Ben and the flask. Find it on Xanderlike's FFN profile as Father-To-Son.