Archive of Our Own

Dawn had barely broken when I awoke with a start. It was today.

The recollection of just what today was caused a wave of nausea to roll through me, and I sat up blinking in the half light, wondering exactly how it had come to this.

The suit hung over my closet door, silently mocking me; it’s stark darkness against the white door somehow fitting. I turned my eyes away- black might be my signature colour in most people’s eyes,  but when I chose this particular suit, I’d felt it mirrored my depression and sadness-that feeling hadn’t changed. If anything, it had gotten worse the closer it had come to this day. Now, it beckoned me to surround myself in it’s lack of light- to block out any remaining interest in the myriad of colours the world had to offer.

I glanced at my phone- five hours left. Five hours left out of twenty three years.

It would be so easy to just curl up into a ball and shut everything out until it was all over. Until all the celebrations had died away into a distant memory-but I couldn’t. No, today I had to carry on living this lie because that was what I did. It was what was expected of me. I had to smile and be sociable and show the world that Mitch Grassi was no longer attached by the hip to Scott Hoying. That I didn’t care what Scott did or who he was in a relationship with, when I had cared for every second of every minute of every day of every one of those twenty three years. 

I had to put on my ‘interview face’, as someone had once called it, make believe I was happy for my friend because it was what was expected of me. I had to shake hands and pose for photographs and promote the illusion to my friends, fans and media that this was a happy day, because that was what was expected of me; while inside my chest my heart was going to be shattering into a million pieces, every piece part of a puzzle that I knew I would be unable to fit back together again.

We had always been open with each other about how we felt. The thing was, Scott wanted masses of friends, parties and to be loved by thousands. Me? I just wanted quiet nights in front of the TV, cuddling into his protective embrace. While I was with him, it was so easy to be caught up in his lifestyle. Yep, I surfed along in Scott Hoying’s wake for years- until I realised that I was so busy doing what Scott wanted, that I was neglecting what I wanted to do- and those things were not compatible.

It would have been cruel to confine that gregarious, outgoing social butterfly to a cage- because Scott wouldn’t even consider us as separate entities, and demanded my presence wherever he went. He would have given up what he loved to be with me in my cocoon- and that would not have been a healthy relationship.

It had to end. And it did. Nowadays, we didn’t even socialise anymore, and although I thought that recently, our friendship was getting back on the rails again, there was something missing.
I’d sabotaged myself well and truly.

The rehearsal dinner had been bad. I had floated through it all in a daze. Meeting and greeting, forcing a few forkfuls of food down, laughing in all the appropriate places (I hoped), and getting away as quickly as was humanly possible. 

Of course, I had to keep reminding myself, it was all my own fault. I had rejected Scott once too often in the past-looking for something different- something better. Someone who would share my love of an introvert lifestyle. Hah! Like that was ever going to happen! 

I chuckled dryly as I recalled all the times we were on, then we were off again, on and off- like a possessed light switch. Even my closest friends had never been sure whether it was an ‘on’ day or an ‘off’ day in the days when I had friends. They would watch, jaded with the monotony, until they ‘got’ it and could adapt their behaviour accordingly-and ‘on’ was always a lot more comfortable for everyone than ‘off’. Neither Scott nor I had been particularly approachable when we were either fighting or ‘taking a break’ from each other. 

Eventually, the breaks had grown longer and longer. Scott stopped trying to win me back and we started seeing other guys again- subconsciously looking for something more than a quick hook up this time though. 

Scott had found his Mr Right. And I had never found my ‘better’.

I had looked of course, desperately at first, then less frequently as time wore on, resigning myself to being chronically single. Of course, I told myself, that had nothing to do with the fact that my heart had always been reserved for someone else- nothing at all. It was just that I was too picky- I was looking for my ideal man and he just didn’t exist. 

So why then, did my heart race and my muscles turn to jelly whenever I was around my tall, blonde bandmate after all this time? Even when I knew the difficulties we faced as a couple. Why did I feel as if half of my soul had been missing for years? Why was I dreading today? I should be relieved that Scott had found someone he loved, someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, shouldn’t I? That’s how a good friend would be feeling.

But there had always been that denial in me.  I had never dreamed that Scott might fall for someone other than me. My ego didn’t even come into it; it had just seemed like I had all the time in the world to wait for him to change- or for myself to change. I had this mad idea that when we ‘grew up’ then we would be more compatible.

I was wrong. 

I was left with a broken heart from a three year relationship that I couldn’t settle into, and thought things would just drift back to the way it had been with Scott. I was too late. And had anything changed? No. It was a continuous circle. My heart wanted the only guy that had ever made me feel that I was beautiful and worth something, but we were too different to ever be a permanent thing.

My body felt heavy, and my heart even heavier as I pulled myself from my bed and went downstairs. I had to be bright and perky today -because it was what was expected of me; so that meant coffee- lots of coffee.

My eyes were drawn to the small, square package on the table. It was so pretty- tied up in multi coloured curly ribbons and silver embossed paper. Inside, in a little box laid a platinum neck chain with a custom made pendant representation of the skull tattoo that adorned both my own and Scott’s hands. I’d meant to give it to Scott the previous night, but somehow I’d forgotten to take it.

I sighed. Those tattoos had meant something back then. It meant we were soulmates. They still sat there, Mine facing outwards to the world on the second finger of my left hand; Scott’s half concealed on his same finger. Neither of us had covered it. Now Scott’s sat on the finger next to his engagement ring, and later on today, his wedding ring. 

As I looked wistfully at the gift, I wondered idly if it was maybe a little tacky. What would Mark think having his husband wearing a symbol of his love for another man around his neck? What would the fandom think? They would certainly recognise it for what it was the minute they saw it. Maybe I hadn’t really thought this through properly. Maybe it should have been something a little less personal to the two of us. It was probably just as well I’d forgotten to take it.

I made my coffee and dragged myself back upstairs. 

Thoughts of inventing some sort of illness were running through my head now. It didn’t have to be serious- just something that would keep me away from that luxurious wedding venue in Hollywood. Food poisoning? Covid? Strep throat? 

I snorted at my idiocy. That wouldn’t get the tongues wagging at all, would it? I could see the social media comments already. ‘Strange that Mitch gets sick on the day of Scott’s wedding, isn’t it?’ Nope- the speculation would be unbearable.

I was interrupted in my fantasy of staying home and working on my new album when my phone rang.

I froze when Scott’s photo and name appeared on the screen, and for a moment I just stared at it. I was sure the damned thing had an attitude this morning as the ring seemed to speed up and get louder. ‘Impatient, aren’t we?’ I muttered darkly. 

‘Good morning!’ I answered cheerfully, because that was what was expected of me.

‘Mitch? Problem!’ Scott’s voice, as always, was as welcome as an old warm coat in a snowstorm, even as stressed and loud as it was right now. There was nothing like coming straight to the point.

‘Anything I can help with?’ I asked sweetly. 

‘Yes! Our wedding singer has just cancelled on us! He’s sick.’

My stomach felt as if it had fallen down an elevator shaft. I waited, wondering if there was a possibility that whatever the singer had could have been contagious and if I’d seen him the previous night. No such luck. 

‘Mitch?’

‘Umm- yeah? I’m still here.’

‘Could you please step in and help us out? Please?’ 

Everything was ‘us’ and ‘our’ these days, and it set  my teeth on edge. ‘No.’ I couldn’t imagine anything worse, and there was no point in beating around the bush. ‘Sorry, Scott.’

There was silence on the other end of the phone. Then, my heart broke at the disappointment in Scott’s voice. ‘No? You’re saying no?’ It was more than disappointment, I realised, it was surprise. I had refused him. 

 There was a long pause, as if Scott was attempting to digest the information. It was clear he had no fallback plan. Then- ‘It’s alright, Mitchy- I know you would if you could.’ I could almost see the puzzled expression on his face. Scott must have come to the conclusion that it was my social anxiety that had hastened my refusal. Well, better that than the truth, I decided.

‘Won’t Matt do it?’ I asked gently, feeing a bit ashamed of myself. ‘He used to do stuff like that. I’m sure he’d step in.’

‘Yeah. Yeah, okay. See you later then?’ I heard Scott’s muffled voice delivering the news to someone in the background before the line went dead. 

I had just shot the balloons down on my friend’s special day, I knew. Moaning, I flung myself backwards onto the pillows. How could I get up in front of all our friends, families and acquaintances and sing a love song- not about Scott and myself, but Scott and another man? 

I tried to envisage it. There I was, standing off to the side, facing my audience and the happy couple, pouring my heart out while they gazed adoringly into each other’s eyes. I felt sick at just the visualisation. Then, I found myself wondering what song Scott and Mark had chosen.  I had no doubt it would be one that meant something to the both of them. Not too long ago I’d have been able to predict what song Scott would have chosen, but right now, there was someone else helping make his choices.

Couldn’t I just do this one last thing for my friend on such an important day? It could be my wedding gift to them- instead of the tacky neck chain that lay pushed to one side on the table downstairs. It would hurt like hell, I knew, but what a gift if I could do it well! 

I moistened my lips, trying to quell my restless stomach. 

No. Why should I? Why should I put myself through even more emotional trauma? 

My  eyes were drawn to the formal wedding invitation lying where it had lain practically since the day I’d opened the shiny silver envelope. I’d turned it face down to avoid looking at the edited photograph that adorned the front of the expensive, stiff and textured card. A vignette of Scott and Mark gazing into each other’s eyes, clouds and sparkly glitter surrounding them. Inside was the usual date, time and venue-but it was the handwritten notes from both Scott and Mark that had stopped me from binning it.

I picked it up now, turning to the inside to run my finger over Scott’s familiar scrawl.

Scott had written: ‘Mitchy- so happy to ask you to be with us on our special day. I couldn’t imagine the person I’d have become if you hadn’t been around for most of of my life. I love you.’

Mark’s note was more formal. ‘Thank you for being our friend. Looking forward to celebrating with you on the big day!’

I knew what I had to do- because it was what was expected of me.

‘Really? Aw Mitch- thank you so much! You’re a life saver!’ There was chatter in the background, and I  could imagine Scott’s family bustling around trying to get everything ready. Scott broke off to shout something unintelligible to someone- he was obviously as organised as I always remembered.

‘What song were you thinking about? I need to brush up on lyrics and stuff, and there’s not that much time.’ I grabbed yet another shirt from my closet, holding it up to the suit.

‘Unchained Melody?’ (More yelling to someone. ‘Not that one- the white one!’) ‘Sorry- it’s chaos here!’

I  froze, my arm in the air with a burnt orange shirt at the end of it. I knew the song. ‘Umm- Scott? Do you think that’s a suitable wedding song? I mean the lyrics are not…’

‘Of course- it’s a beautiful song. I wish we had more time to discuss it, but you can imagine how things are here…’ He tailed off, distracted by something going on again.

‘Okay- just one more question…what’s the colour theme again?’ 

‘Honestly Mitch- it’s blue- electric blue. How can you not know that? Oops- Mark’s calling me! Come a little earlier so Shauna can run you through beforehand! Okay? Have to go!’

I  sighed and returned the orange shirt to the rail. At least I had an electric blue shirt. It was a bit low necked, no collar and had a slightly darker, raised pattern of peacock silhouettes; but it would be my only colour- and very me. No ties for me today.

Now to the song…

***

So here I was. No longer one of many in the centre of a sea of faces. Instead, although presently there were only a few people taking their seats, I’d been moved to an aisle seat to enable my  quick movement to the front when required. Austin sat beside me, a bemused expression on his face that had appeared when I’d  told him of my change of role and had never really disappeared. 

Scott and Mark had changed the usual wedding etiquette to make things a little easier. It had been decided long ago that they would have no groomsmen or best man. Instead, both men would have their mothers supporting them. 

Still, this wedding was going to be huge, and I was stunned when I saw the amount of seats laid out ready. There were going to be lots of pairs of eyes on me. I tried to look at this as just another performance; I would sing while both men walked down the aisle together, their mothers in front of them, and finish the song while Scott and Mark composed themselves ready to take their vows.

‘Nervous?’ Austin asked, offering me what he obviously hoped was a reassuring smile. 

I dragged my eyes away from the sea of blue, silver and gold and gave Austin a grin. ‘Nope- it’s just another show,’ I lied.

Austin nodded. ‘That’s a good way of thinking about it.’ His eyes held mine for maybe a beat more than required- searching, I knew, for any of the signs that I was hiding something. But I just returned his gaze, trying to look as open as possible and was reassured when Austin gave a little nod and returned to his phone.

God, I’m good at this, I realised. I could even fool my  best friend into believing I was fine now. 

I could hear people talking and taking their seats behind me, but I didn’t turn around, too wrapped up in my own thoughts to concentrate on my phone, I found myself rubbing my skull tattoo distractedly. 

‘You’re not fooling me, you know’, Austin muttered, not even lifting his eyes. ‘You might think you are…’ His eyes flicked up then back down to his phone. ‘But you’re not.’

‘Great.’ So much for that theory.

I started as a hand appeared on my shoulder. It was Shauna- the wedding planner. ‘Mitch- it will be about ten minutes. I’ll give you a nod just before they enter, and start the intro. That will give you time to get to the mic.’ I attempted a smile as Shauna gave my shoulder an encouraging squeeze. ‘No fun jumping in at the last minute is it?’

‘It will be over soon enough.’ I offered. Shauna nodded and moved away to carry on with her last minute checks. If she only knew why I felt so nervous.

Behind me, I  heard Kirstie’s laugh as she greeted people, and I felt myself starting to tremble. This was real. This was it. Scott’s declaration to the entire world that I was no longer the number one in his life. Why had it taken this long for it to sink in? Surely I must have known this was going to happen when Scott and Mark got engaged? 

My mind reeled unsteadily back to that difficult weekend in the Bahamas, but I quickly forced it backwards to where it belonged. I had done so well, and no-one even suspected that I’d spent so much time considering just getting on the next plane home. I had stayed and performed- not just on stage either.

Suddenly, I became aware of a silence around me. I looked up to see Shauna nodding at me, and Austin gave me a gentle shove. Here we go then.

Now I was facing all those people I had up until now ignored. I could see Kirstie’s surprise, obviously the news hadn’t filtered down to the guests of the change. I raised my chin as the intro eased into my cue, opened my mouth and began, my eyes on the back of the room. In my peripheral vision a photographer floated, the whirr of his camera accompanying me. 

Thank God the lyrics were emblazoned into my memory, because if it had been a song I hadn’t known as well, I would have been struggling as my eyes took in the picture when the doors opened.

The couple’s mothers entered, in flowing gowns of electric blue and silver, made up and coiffed, they looked amazing. I couldn’t help a small smile. Connie had always been such a good friend to me. 

But it was when Scott and Mark entered that my struggle became suddenly front and centre. I had known it would be hard, but I had underestimated the effect of seeing my one and only true love hand in hand with the man who was about to become his husband.

Scott seemed taller somehow; his chest swelled with pride. His newly trimmed and styled blonde locks contrasting with Mark’s dark, simple style. They had chosen matching outfits. Long tailed silver suits with a raised embossed pattern, silver shirts set off with electric blue ties and buttonhole floral arrangements. Both men were the happiest I’d seen them.

My voice caught momentarily, and I felt my breathing speed up. Why the fuck had I agreed to do this? I’d known it was a bad idea the moment Scott had asked me. 

My eyes searched for reassurance, but Austin had turned to watch their entrance too, and I was on my own- my voice beginning to falter more often and unable to regulate my breathing.  

I was nearly ready to call it a day when my gaze landed on Kevin. He was looking directly at me- the compassion on that man’s face as his soft, brown eyes held mine seemed to cradle me.. Now, I don’t react well to pity- but this was different. Kevin knew everything, and he had must have known how hard this was going to be for me.

He mouthed the words of the song along with me, nodding his head to the beat- his entire attention on me, carrying me along. His eyes never left mine. My breathing steadied as I used the crutch he had provided- Scott forgotten for the moment- until he was stood in front of me, slightly off to the side. 

He kept his gaze directed to the front and the officiant, almost as if I didn’t exist. Occasionally, he would smile at Mark, and I could see how tightly they clutched each other’s hands. 

There was a line in the song “Are you still mine?” which I was concerned about when Scott had first told me what the song was to be. But as I took a deep breath to hold the note at the end, Mark seemed to move closer and I could see his eyes turned to Scott’s. As I sang the line, they both nodded at the other. Barely perceptible nods, but it was like they were reaffirming their commitment. 

It was then I knew. I knew it one hundred percent. It was over.

I saw in Mark’s eyes the reflection of my own heart. Someone else loved him as much, if not more, than I did. 

It was stupid, I know. Of course they were in love- things would never have got this far if they weren’t. Yet I had never been convinced. Sure, I’d seen them together numerous times, but had I ever really looked?

As the refrains of the song died away, Scott’s gaze turned my way. The electric blue of the theme did something to his eyes, intensifying the colour until I could see nothing else. He smiled at me and nodded, and my heart broke. It was one of those nods that people give each other when a partnership had been ended, and as I wondered what it reminded me of..it came back in a rush.

A small room in a nondescript tower block in Century City….a piece of paper and a pen that would end Superfruit forever. Another ending.

I’d looked at him across the table, and he’d looked at me… then that little nod; a ‘thank you for the memories’… and a relief that our partnership was finally, legally, consigned to the back office of some dusty solicitor’s office. 

I felt a huge sense of grief. My heart pounded so fast in my chest it made me feel physically sick. Every breath I took was an effort as the very air around me seemed to thicken. As Scott turned his attention back to the officiant, I caught Kevin’s gaze again- this time concerned. 

Now, so far I’d been able to hold it together, and I was now supposed to make my way back to my seat- and this was when I embarrassed myself and almost ruined the ceremony. 

I couldn’t move because my legs felt like jelly. I clutched at the nearest seemingly stable object to steady myself, which just happened to be a huge urn filled with an extravagant floral display, it moved…

I felt panic setting in as the sea of faces suddenly turned towards me, but they all seemed to be getting further and further away, there was a crash, and the last thing I recall seeing was Kevin leaping from his seat…

***

There were muffled voices around me. I could hear Austin’s voice, low key angry. ‘…don’t know what they were thinking about…they should never have put him in that position!’

Kevin’s voice, calm and soft. ‘Mitch- hey! You with us yet?’ 

I wanted to answer, but couldn’t either open my eyes or mouth. My arm seemed to work though and I raised it. It was caught by a large hand. ‘You’re okay, bud- you just fainted. Take it easy for a while.’ 

I concentrated on taking some deep breaths. The air felt fresh and sweet, and I found the world seeming to come back to me, along with the realisation of where I was and what had happened. I had never fainted before in my life- passed out, yes- but that’s a whole different thing.

I struggled to break the surface between the two conflicting worlds I was stuck in, mortified as tears sprung to my eyes. ‘Fuck!’ 

‘Stay lying down for a while,’ Kevin’s grinning face was close to mine, Austin hovering by his shoulder, both hands over his face, looking panicked as all hell from what I could see of his expression. 

‘I should get an ambulance,’ he said.

‘No! Fuck- don’t you dare!’ I struggled to a sitting position, despite Kevin’s hands trying to push me back down. 

‘Not really necessary- he’s okay…as you can see.’
There was a touch of mirth in Kevin’s tone.

My eyes were fully focused now and I was surprised to see I was outside, lying on a grassy slope up to the building doors. My right hand hurt, and I glanced at it. It was wrapped in what looked like a tie? An electric blue, silk tie…

The memory of all those faces staring at me came back in a rush. Scott and Mark must have been so pissed with me! People magazine were here too. I recalled the photographer hovering around us and moaned as a mental image of the photos popping up online came to me. Me, lying on the floor with the shattered remains of a flower urn around me, everyone gawping like a bowl full of goldfish.

The tears I’d desperately contained after waking, spilled unbidden down my cheeks. ‘I’ve ruined everything!’ Kevin’s super strong arms came around me.

‘No you haven’t. The ceremony is still going ahead, Mitch. Scott was really insistent he made sure you were okay first though.’

‘He did?’ I seemed to have reverted to a sniffling, needy child. ‘I smashed the display…’

Kevin picked up my hand. ‘You cut your hand on the urn- he bandaged it with his tie.’

‘So he should,’ Austin muttered. ‘I still can’t believe he put you on the spot like that! Who asks their ex to sing at their wedding?!’ It was clear that my best friend was not feeling very charitable towards Scott, but it was nothing new. 

‘I wanted to do it!’ I insisted, ‘he means…meant…’ I trailed off, unable to articulate anymore. My mind was too busy trying to envision Scott whipping his tie off to wrap it round my hand. 

‘Alright, alright, let’s not rehash all that right at this minute,’ Kevin insisted quickly and pushed a bottle of water into my hand. ‘Here.’ Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the warning look directed at Austin, but Kevin being Kevin, he said nothing. Instead, his eyes drifted to the oak doors. ‘I… should umm.’ He gestured with his thumb to the doors and stood. ‘Everyone will be coming out shortly, you two might want to…’

No sooner were the words out of his mouth then the doors opened. The last thing I wanted was to be surrounded by pitying, concerned guests, most of whom I knew.

Austin caught my panic and grabbed my arm. ‘Let’s get out of here.’ Between them, I was hauled to my feet. 

‘I really need to go…’ Kevin said. ‘Leigh…’ 

‘It’s okay, Kev,’ I interrupted with a smile. ‘Thank you.’ He clapped my back and gave Austin another warning look before turning to the doors where a couple of people I didn’t know were exiting the building, fortunately more interested in lighting their cigarettes than us. 

‘Take some time, Mitch- and get that hand seen to!’ Kevin smiled and gave a little wave as he strode through the doors.

‘Let’s go.’

I allowed Austin to lead me to his car, a thousand emotions chasing through me all at the same time. Sensing my turmoil, Austin didn’t speak. Meanwhile, I played with the tie binding my hand. Even in this situation, my fashion eye marveled at how the colour of my shirt matched it almost exactly.

My fingers touched something hard in the folds. 

I climbed into the car, fumbling to ease the folds of the material away from whatever was buried inside, but without disturbing the wound underneath. I could feel where the cut was now- down the outside of the fleshy part of my palm; it stung as I probed closer to it.

‘Leave it alone- it’ll start bleeding again,’ Austin nagged as we pulled out of the lot. ‘We’ll stop at the hospital, it might need stitches. How are you feeling?’ 

I paused, considering. Apart from the embarrassment, I felt fine, and told him so.

‘You should never have done it,’ he said, ignoring my heavy sigh. ‘I’m still steaming that he….’

I cut him off in my brain, only the sound of his voice on the edge of my consciousness, because I’d finally freed the hard item from the tie and it lay in my other palm while I tried to comprehend what I was seeing.

I recognised it immediately.

You know when you see people having a flashback and there’s a whoosh and a vision of them travelling speedily through a tunnel? Well-not strictly true. Instead, I felt mentally and physically numb. I couldn’t get my thoughts in order to process them; disjointed bits of a jigsaw puzzle that just wouldn’t fit together.

I wanted to be on my own with a stiff drink, not on my way to the hospital. Too much had happened in the last couple of hours. 

‘Let’s just go home,’ I said, squeezing my fist over the object in my hand.

Austin looked at me sideways. ‘You need that stitched.’

Annoyed now, I unwound the tie from my hand. It was stuck with dried blood to the skin. ‘It’s stopped bleeding,’ I informed him. ‘I’ll soak it in some salty water and put a proper dressing on it at home.’ I hesitated. ‘I really don’t want to go to the hospital.’

Austin sighed. ‘You’re really being difficult today, aren’t you?’ There was no malice in his tone, and I grinned.

‘Sorry. And I’m sorry you missed the meal- I know you were looking forward to it.’ It was all he’d harped on about since I’d asked him to be my plus one. Austin enjoyed tasting food from various sources, and had managed to get inside info on the menu.

Austin gave a little chuckle. ‘I’m sure someone will let me in on their review. I am hungry though. You?’

Nothing could be further from my mind. ‘No- maybe later.’ 

I played with the souvenir from Scott and Mark’s wedding, now safely hidden in my pocket. It was something I didn’t feel able to talk to my best friend about quite yet- until I’d sorted my own feelings out.

***

Home.

I poured some wine and pulled my little secret from my pocket and dropped it on the coffee table in front of me.

It was my gold Cartier love ring; the ring Scott had bought for me back in 2016 and I had worn constantly for three years. I had sent it back to him in 2020, having not worn it for a year. It had been a gift- but a very expensive gift and I felt it was wrong to keep something worth so much that I knew I’d never wear again.

What did it mean? Scott had obviously put it there for a reason. I tried to remember what his tie had looked like when he’d worn it, but try as I might, I couldn’t recall seeing him using the ring as a decoration on it- and why the hell would he? There were plenty of gorgeous tie clips and rings out there. What? He just saw my old ring lying somewhere and thought, yeah! 

I’d found it threaded through the tie- and that had taken some time to do; not something he’d spend time doing having taken it off to use as a bandage. And both Kevin and Austin had been there and would have seen him do it.

Nope, Scott had put that ring there for a reason. He wouldn’t have known I was going to end up unconscious on the floor with a cut on my hand. So what the hell…?

I supposed I could ask him, but I was still too ashamed of the drama I had caused to speak to him yet. Besides- he would be too busy enjoying himself…

I glanced at the clock on my phone. The party would be in full swing now. And where was I? At home, licking my wounds like some beaten wolf cub. And yes, that was probably expected of me too.

Deja damned vu. 

***

Due to Scott and Mark’s marriage and subsequent honeymoon period, I had very little in the way of work in the days ahead, and I was thankful for that.

I had fielded the phone calls and texts from friends and family that had started as soon as I climbed into Austin’s car, instead sending out a text saying how sorry I was for the disruption to the event and that I was fine and just needed to learn to eat breakfast. 

The last bit was a lie of course, I’d had breakfast that morning.

Naturally, I avoided any social media. I knew those photos ( and probably video footage) would be out there for all the world to see, and instead, I walked from room to room unable to settle or concentrate on anything.

My old ring remained on the coffee table, the significance of it’s return to me still a mystery. 

That was- until that evening.

The day had worn me out; I felt as if I’d been through an emotional and physical wringer. I must have hit the floor hard, because now I was discovering aches and bruises where there were none before. 

I’d opted for an early night. I’d showered ( hence the discovery of the bruises), dressed the cut on my hand which I’d decided was not as bad as it seemed and didn’t need stitching, and was halfway to my room when the doorbell sounded.

I must have looked like something out of a cartoon. Frozen with a foot in the air on the stair, my head cocked to one side like a cocker spaniel. Clearly I’d misheard, because who would be at my door at this time of night?

I decided that I hadn’t heard anything, took another two stairs, and it rang again. ‘Dammit!’

Being the privacy freak I was, I had deliberately bought a house that was hidden away from the main street and shielded from prying eyes. Anyone coming to my door had to have a reason. It wasn’t the kind of place someone just called at casually to ask directions or sell cookies. A late delivery maybe?

I was still expecting a flustered delivery guy when I throw open the door with a beaming smile. Not the guy’s fault if I’d had a bad day, right?

The smile slid away as my visitor was lit up in the security lighting. 

‘Scott?!’

I stood blinking at him. He was wearing a blue hoodie and jeans-a bit of a change from how I’d seen him this morning. For a few seconds I just stood staring, completely taken aback and overwhelmed. 

And he stared back.

Then I tried to make a joke of it. ‘Strange honeymoon- knocking at your ex’s door on your wedding night.’ I chuckled at my own wittiness, but really, it was just to cover up how damned awkward I felt.

‘Can I come in for a minute?’ He didn’t smile, and I immediately thought- he’s really pissed with me, and now he’s gonna tell me how much.

‘Yeah, why not?’ I tried to steel myself for the onslaught, because when Scott has a go, he can be a snarky bitch. ‘You’ve come all this way to yell at me, the least I can do is let you do it in private!’ 

Scott brushed past me sideways, his expression still unreadable. Once the door closed behind him, I indicated the couch. ‘Do you want to sit while you do this, or stand? I suppose…’

My breath was suddenly cut off as he grabbed me in a bear hug. ‘Are you okay?’

I didn’t struggle- why would I? The man I’d loved for so many years was pressed to my body like he belonged there- but he didn’t- not anymore. I murmured that I was absolutely okay into his shoulder as I breathed in his distinctive scent. It didn’t matter what cologne Scott wore, I had the ability to differentiate the artificial from the earthy, natural Scott underneath it, and if they could bottle that…

He pulled away and grabbed at my hand, inadvertently knocking the wound and causing me to hiss.

He winced. ‘I’m sorry- let me see.’ I was cautious, knowing how clumsy Scott could be, as I offered my hand.

I watched his expression as he turned my hand over in his large fingers. He looked concerned. My eyes couldn’t miss the new ring that sat alongside his engagement ring as he ran a finger over the tape. What I wasn’t expecting him to do was pull the tape away and lift the little dressing I’d slapped on there.

‘It’s fine, Scott!’ I insisted, feeling slightly confused at his attentiveness. I pulled my hand away, pushing the dressing back to cover the ugliness beneath it. ‘Didn’t even need stitches.’ I paused. ‘Is that why you’re here? A phone call would have done, you know?’

Seemingly relieved that I wasn’t as damaged  as he thought, he ran a hand through his hair and gave me a shy smile. ‘No- but I was worried.’

I sighed, a little irritated by this rather odd visit. ‘What are you really here for, then?’ Much as I loved this man, I was tired, and my patience was beginning to slip away. 

‘The ring- did you find it?’ He was studying me now, his blue eyes flickering over my face as if trying to find something.

‘Of course I did.’ I walked into the dining room and picked it up between my thumb and forefinger, ‘I could hardly miss it-don’t know why it was there though. Wanna enlighten me?’ I held it towards him and his brow furrowed. A look of confusion swept briefly over his features. ‘Oh- your tie might not be salvageable.’ I indicated the kitchen sink where it lay in a bowl of water and stain remover.

Scott flapped a hand, effectively dismissing the tie.  ‘Wait- you’re not giving it back to me again already?’ I still had the ring on the palm of my hand, stretched out towards him. He stepped forward and closed my hand in a fist. ‘No, Mitch. That ring is yours. I gave it to you. I was just waiting for the right time to give you it back. The pockets I had on my suit weren’t deep enough and I was scared I’d lose it, so I threaded it through the tie to give you afterwards.’

Well, that solved one mystery.

‘Look, I don’t have long- Mark’s waiting in the car for me…’ Of course he was. Why would I surmise he’d come here on his own? ‘We’re heading to the airport…’

‘Hawaii, wasn’t it?’ I knew it was Hawaii, so I don’t know why I even asked. 

He nodded. ‘Wish you were coming with us.’

My expression must have been one of shock and disbelief, before I burst out laughing. Me? Did he really just say that he wished I were going on his honeymoon with him? 

I couldn’t stop. Through the tears of mirth I saw Scott looking at me in disappointment- yet, I still couldn’t stop. 

The idea of myself spending the next two weeks as a third wheel on Scott and Mark’s honeymoon, tickled me no end. I could just see Mark’s face…

It was only when Scott clearly made to leave that I managed to pull myself together, my hand gesturing him back to the couch while I grabbed a tissue. He stood there, undecided, a wariness in him that I hated.

‘I’m sorry,’ I eventually gasped. ‘That scenario just…’ I giggled again.

Scott glanced at his phone, and I realised he had a plane to catch. I was on the clock here…

Scott sat back down. ‘I’d already mentioned it to Mark, and he was fine with it,’ he informed me. ‘But I knew you wouldn’t consider it.’ He looked a little sad. ‘Remember all those vacations we went on together? We had others with us then- why would this be any different?’

I pushed the heels of my hands into my eyes hard enough to see sparks-but not hard enough to eradicate the recollection of hot sunshine on my semi naked body. The last thing I wanted right now was to remember those vacations. We were younger, free and totally disinhibited. 

‘It’s your goddamned honeymoon Scott!’ I reminded him. ‘Not a single guys week of debauchery! Yes- we had fantastic vacations as unattached people, but this is completely different!’

I knew this man better than anyone in my entire life, and I knew he couldn’t possibly have thought this through. He wanted to recreate something we’d had years ago, when we were more than just friends. Much as I yearned to be close to him, I knew what we had back then was over- had been for a long time. I had finally let go, now he had to.

‘Look, Scott…’ I jumped up to sit on the opposite couch beside him. I took his closest hands in mine, and looked him straight in the eye. ‘I love you so much…’ I swallowed hard. It had been difficult to admit that. ‘We were a force to be reckoned with- were!’ And that was even harder, stressing that word went against everything my heart told me.

He raised a hand and cupped the side of my face, that goddamned soft smile that had curled my toes and heated my skin for so long, back to taunt me. I swallowed even harder. It would be so easy go lean into that hand- to take his thumb between my teeth…..instead, I concentrated on his eyes, trying to convey trust.

‘But I want us to stay friends, and you two need some time alone, without worrying how to include me in your plans…’ He opened his mouth to say to say something but I shushed him. ‘You go on your vacation and enjoy yourself. I’m just fine right here- and I’ll still be here when you come back.’

It seemed to work. Scott gave a little harrumph, and I knew I’d won- or lost?

I forced a smile and sucker punched him on the arm to lighten the mood. ‘Hey though- thanks for the invite, it’s good to know you two are so…’ I struggled to find the word. ‘Open.’ I bit my lip and raised an eyebrow suggestively. ‘But babe…I’m not really into that scene.’

I was rewarded by a low chuckle. ‘As if!’ he laughed. ‘Once bitten an’ all that!’

The amused expression changed to a more thoughtful one. There was a glossiness in Scott’s eyes now. ‘I’ve missed having you around you know. Sometimes I just forget you’re not there and I’ll go “I have to tell Mitch that,” or go to show you something, but you’re not there.’

‘I’m just at the end of a phone, babe,’ I whispered, hurting now.

‘You… you really are something, you know,’ he smiled. ‘I wanted you to have that ring back and wear it because those feelings I had when I gave you it still count- even if our day has come and gone.’ He sighed, pulling away from me a little. ‘Here…I want to put this back where it belongs’

He opened my hand where the ring was still clenched in my fist and took my other hand. ‘Mitch Grassi- will you be my constant again?’ He slipped the gold band back onto my right forefinger where I’d most often worn it. ‘I always want you in my life- even when both of us are married and have a bunch of kids running around our houses.’ 

I flexed the finger experimentally, wondering if it would eventually feel a part of me again. ‘You soppy fuck,’ I grinned, and looked up at him from lowered eyelids. ‘I’ll try, babe, but you know what an impossible asshole you can be.’ He laughed then- a real laugh that lit up his face.

‘Granted!’

‘Before you go, I need to apologise for that mess back at the venue. I didn’t even get to see you do the deed….’

He growled. ‘Don’t ever apologise for something out of your control.’ He looked annoyed that I’d even suggested it. ‘By the way- I had words with People, and there won’t be any… umm…embarrassing photos floating around. I can’t vouch for any guests of course.’

I wave of relief flooded through me. ‘Thank you.’ Simple but effective. 

He stood, his eyes flicking to the door and his husband waiting out of his sight. ‘I have to go though. When we get back, let’s have a wine night or something.’

I nodded. ‘Sounds nice.’ My eyes fell on the little package that I’d dismissed that morning. I picked it up and pressed it into his hand shyly. ‘Sort of…a similar thing to the ring.’

I didn’t know how else to describe it.

He gave me an amused smile, but I stopped him as he made to open it. ‘Later-you need to go!’ For that little scene read that I couldn’t bear one more single emotional reaction. 

‘See you in two weeks then!’ He sounded upbeat as he made his way to the door. He stopped, waved the little box at me and beckoned me over. 

Obviously, I drifted across the wooden floor towards him, and he dropped a little kiss to the top of my head, making me feel warm and fuzzy, and to hell that it was a cliche.

‘Thank you.’

Then he was caught in the light one last time before being swallowed by the shadows.

I sighed, closing and locking the door behind him. Well, that had gone better than I thought when he’d arrived. Strangely, I felt happier than I had for a long time. There was an acceptance now; a feeling of resolution between us. I could still openly love my Scott, just in a different way.

I played with the ring on my finger, feeling very much at peace. ‘Have a great time,’ I whispered.

***

Mark looked up as Scott slid into the seat beside him. ‘You happy now, baby?’

Scott grinned. ‘Yep. Thanks for waiting.’

Mark laughed lightly. ‘Always.’ His eyes fell on the silver wrapped gift in his hand. ‘A wedding gift?’

Scott shook his head. ‘I think it’s a peace gift.’ 

‘Let me see.’

It didn’t take more than a few seconds for Scott to unwrap the little package and hold up the platinum chain in front of him. He choked back the lump in his throat, as it caught the light from the street, sparkling as it spun. 

‘How did he know?’ Mark asked. He laid the chain over his hand, then over Scott’s hand beside the matching ink, marvelling at how exactly they matched both in shape and size.

Scott shrugged. It was just coincidence that they’d exchanged such meaningful gifts, wasn’t it? 

‘He just did.’