A/N: again, I'm re-using this one...XD
When she married him, he had not expected it. He should have, but somehow he hadn't. Or maybe he had seen it coming, just not so soon.
For some unknown reason he had received an invitation to her wedding. He had briefly considered not attending, but that wasn't going to happen--it simply wasn't. He loved her too much to go that low.
He had prepared for it with painstaking care, and hated himself for it. Even he didn't completely understand why he had bothered to. Perhaps he loved her enough to want her to be happy. Likelier was that he had done it because of his pride: he wanted her to know that her getting married didn't matter to him at all--wanted her to see exactly what she was giving up.
So he had gone.
She had looked stunning, and with a heartwrenching pang, he realized that she looked happier than he had ever seen her before. He had greeted her with a kiss on her cheek (it lingered for almost too long) and she had hugged him back (pretend she doesn't hear just how hard his heart is beating).
It had been awkward, of course, awkward as hell, but nearly all of it had been under the surface. Her smile, though hesitant--and he could've sworn it was a little sad, too--had been warm and wide. He knew his eyes, though crinkled, were creased in a smile that was just a little bit fake--maybe even cold. And behind his I'm-glad-you're-happy facade, his mind was whirling with questions.
Is he kind? Is he sympathetic? Is he patient? Is he smart? Is he a good dancer? I know you love dancing. Does he know your favorite color is red because it's the color of roses? Does he know you're a romantic? Does he know you like chocolate only because it reminds you of me?
Does he love you? Truly, does he? And do you love him?
He wanted nothing more that her to answer "no" to both--heck, he'd settle for just the last one--because then he could reply (in an all-too satisfied voice), "Good. I didn't think so."
She walks down the aisle. Her eyes are subtly(?) searching for someone in the rows of seated people. But he's standing in the back of the room, shadowed, but watching with an intensity that outdoes by a million times the intensity of her mother's eyes. He is careful to avert his gaze from the groom, and somehow wins the battle against the urge to look.
Right before they complete their vows, he quietly assumes a seat. Her eyes are desperate now, and finally latch onto his (is that relief in her eyes?).
It is then that he sees that man--her man--for the first time, and he almost drops dead onto the floor.
He has the same color hair, eyes, build, and is nearly the same height. He suddenly notices how similar their voices are (though naturally that man's voice is much more humble).
As she and he lock eyes one more time (no, that can't be regret), his own gaze full of shocked understanding, he realizes why she had--has--chosen this man.
They kiss; he looks away.
At the reception she approaches him with her husband. Her eyes are only a little wet with unshed tears (he thinks he knows why, but everyone else is none the wiser) as she introduces her man to him. He acknowledges the newlywed politely, seeing in the man's eyes what he had felt only moments before.
As she feigns physical discomfort--after all, how could she not be uncomfortable emotionally?--he subtly follows here to a secluded corner.
"I'm sorry," she whispers as their lips meet (not for the last time--God, please, no).
"You had no choice." he mumbles, turning away.
She smiles at him with heartwrenching gratitude, thankful for the excuse he has just given her.
"Good-bye, love," he says, nodding slightly, and leaves.
A/N: I tried to make this one as angsty as I could, but I think I only succeeded in a little confusion...
