Summary: Erik's perfect day isn't quite so perfect without Charles.
It's a perfect day for a wedding.
He's surrounded by smiling faces, his groomsmen laughing as they jostle him inside the church, his family and friends stopping to wish him 'good luck' as he makes his way down the aisle. The sun is shining, the pews are packed and his parents are the happiest he's ever seen them.
But it's not quite the perfect day that Erik had expected.
Because he can't stop thinking about what's missing, today of all days. Or who's missing from his place at Erik's side.
He wonders why he's feeling this way, still so hurt and bereft at the thought of Charles now, probably on his way to the airport. That his best friend couldn't stay just a few more days, to be the rock Erik's always counted on since the day they met.
Maybe he should have told Charles, how much he needed him. That he's never met anyone who understood him and accepted him so easily – his reticence and his mercurial temper; who loved him without judgement and without reserve. How Charles has the kindest soul and the biggest heart that Erik has ever known. That he can't think or breathe when he thinks about the next two years and what life will be like without Charles in it every day.
The realization of what it all means only hits him later, after he and Emma exchange their vows. When he's standing outside in the sunshine, posing with his new bride for the photographer. When his eyes land on the unmistakeable figure of Charles across the street, turning and walking away from him.
He tells Emma the next day. And it goes over about as well as can be expected.
She listens to him with a slight frown on her lips but doesn't interrupt as he pours his heart out to her. He loves her, very much – she's smart and sophisticated and perfect, full of life and love and the strength of character that Erik has always admired. But he doesn't love her enough for a happy marriage, he tells her as tears run down his face, if he feels the way he feels about Charles.
When he's finished, Emma slaps him hard across the face and then pulls him into a hug. Her eyes are wet but she doesn't cry, choosing to deal with the situation with her usual stoicism and grace. They drink whiskey together until they pass out, then wake and talk into the early hours of the next morning before Erik finally falls asleep in her arms.
They talk and talk and talk some more over the next three weeks, until finally she tells Erik to go to Oxford. She loves Charles too – the two are childhood best friends – and whatever happens between all of them now he has a right to know the truth. It'll be difficult and complicated and messy, she says, and Tony will probably ruin him if he doesn't hurry up and figure things out.
He thinks about it all the way to the airport and during the flight over, of what he should say to Charles. That he loves watching Charles laugh, his eyes crinkling with mirth at something Erik says. That he hates the organic wheat toast Charles makes them for breakfast, but eats it every day because it makes Charles smile. That nothing makes him happier than coming home late at night, to find Charles on the couch with a book in hand having fallen asleep waiting for Erik.
He wants to say 'I'm in love with you' and 'I need you in my life' and 'I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner what you mean to me'. Nothing seems adequate to express what he's feeling, or the cluster fuck he's made of Emma's life because of his inability to know his own heart.
And when the door opens and Charles is there, staring at him with wide eyes and an expression of bewilderment and undisguised hope, it's the only thing he can think to say.
"It's always only been you."