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There’s always at least one event in your life that you dread more than anything. You can’t bear to even imagine having to face it; and yet, somehow, you manage to get through it, even if it hurts like shear hell. For many, that moment is witnessing the death of someone they love. But for a fair few, it’s seeing the people they love be happy together.
Matt’s worst nightmare fell on a Sunday night. He had waded through several hours of pain and fake smiles, biding his time until he could go home. By 8 o’clock, it seemed that the worst had passed. Until it came and smacked him in the face. Oh, right. He had conveniently forgotten about this part of the evening.
He hardly heard the booming voice of his roommate as the dread flooded him. Everything was golden: the paint on the walls, the soft yet somehow piercing lights of the chandeliers, the tablecloths and chairs. Everything looked like it should be warm, joyful. But it only overwhelmed Matt, urging him to desperately escape this prison. And he’d thought the most painful moment of his life was the ceremony. Now he had to lie to a ballroom stuffed with people. More importantly, he had to lie to Edd and Tom. Again. Just like he had been doing for so many years now. At least Tord knew the truth.
In the distance, from what seemed like a mile away, he heard Tord yell, “Alright! Time to hear from the best man, Matt Harkness!”
It took Matt a minute to process those words. Was that…him? Was he really the best man? He somehow doubted that. Jealousy certainly didn’t characterize a good man, let alone “the best” one. Nevertheless, he stood up from his seat. All eyes were on him.
Tord glanced at him as he sat back down. His eyes were sympathetic, his smile gentle and sad. He empathized all too well with Matt.
“You can do this,” he had reminded him periodically throughout the day. Claps on the shoulder, a squeeze of his hand. He knew he couldn’t comfort Matt—he’d long ago given up on that. Matt had resigned himself to this life, to putting his friends’ happiness before his own. Sure, it’s an admirable sacrifice, and one Tord doubted he could make, if ever faced with the choice. Nevertheless, it pained him to see Matt so miserable, trying harder than anything to fake a smile or a laugh.
Sweat trickled down Matt’s neck and forehead. He balled his hands into fists, gave them a quick squeeze, then uncurled them once more. He reached down and grabbed the wine glass in front of him and raised it to the sky. He plastered a fake smile on his face, a practice he had grown more than accustomed to over the years.
“A toast to the groom!” he bellowed out, somehow managing to hold his voice steady. His tone was cheery, full of happiness and warmth—the complete opposite of what was happening inside him. He really had become a master of deception. Out of the corner of his eye, he swore he saw Tord twitch.
“To the groom!” everyone in the room repeated, raising their glasses high as well. All their voices sounded distant and muffled, like that part of the ballroom was a lifetime away.
Matt was staring off into the distance, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. His eyes were aimed above everyone’s heads, towards the high doorway at the opposite end of the room. His escape—he couldn’t wait to seize it after this speech. Nonetheless, he could see the smiles from his friends beside him. The four were stationed at the head table, situated at the front of the ballroom on a small stage. Tord and Matt, as the men of honor, were seated beside the most important men of the evening—the reason they were all here. The reason Matt was dying inside.
Edd was grasping Tom’s hand hard, a giant smile on his face. Tom was grinning widely, but not as openly exuberant as his new husband. He had never been as open about his emotions as Edd. Their eyes were fixed on their best man, Edd’s filled with an exhilarating twinkle.
“To the groom!” Matt called again, lowering and then re-raising his glass. The crowd repeated the action, mimicking his words once more.
“To the two best men I know!” Matt raised his glass one more time, feeling his smile grow wider. “To the two best friends anyone could ask for.” He sucked in a breath, a lungful of thick, heavy air, before looking down at his friends.
Edd was still beaming. He had been so happy when Matt had agreed to speak at the reception, and now the moment was finally here.
“Thank you so so so so much, Matt!” Edd had pronounced when Matt accepted the invitation. He had wrapped Matt in a tight, rib-cracking hug. “You don’t know how much this means to me! You don’t have to say much either, just a simple toast is fine.”
Now that, Matt could do. Had he actually had to speak, he would have already fallen apart.
Tom was smiling up at him, too, but he still remained more composed than his husband. There was a glitter of gratitude sprinkled in those void-like eyes of his. That was something you didn’t see every day, and it made Matt’s heart jump into his throat.
As he lowered his glass to his lips, he took a small sip of the burning liquid before sitting back down. The crowd followed suit, only they remained standing, waiting for Edd and Tom to speak now. As the grooms stood up, Matt made his move. He slipped out of his seat and walked briskly to the bathroom, situated next to the exit. He couldn’t dive out completely just yet—it was only 8:00 PM, after all. But this would at least give him reprieve for a moment.
He stumbled into the bathroom hurriedly and leaned against the beautiful marble sink. He washed his face with cold water repeatedly. Even after the sweat had been wiped clean, he still splashed more water onto his flesh. With each handful of water, his suit jacket and shirt became more and more soaked. He could feel the fabric clinging to his clammy, pale skin. He wanted to tear off his clothes, curl up in a ball and take the longest, hottest shower of his life.
Just keep it together for another hour. You can do that, I know you can. Matt couldn’t tell if those were his own thoughts, or something he figured Tord might say to him.
When he finally stopped, he gazed into the mirror over the sink, not bothering to wipe the excess water off his face. His eyes were starting to become red, as well as his nose and cheeks. Shit, not now, not now! He grabbed a wad of paper towels from a nearby dispenser and shoved them gruffly towards his face. He scrubbed painfully at his eyes, trying to force the tears away, even though no one could have told if they were tears or just sink water. The harsh scrub of the paper towels only made his eyes water more and his skin redden with agitation. As he realized this, he forcefully threw the paper towels into the trashcan before covering his distorted face. Though his appearance was not his main concern tonight, it only worsened the feeling of dread in his gut.
For some reason, the conversation from last night popped into his head. Tord had entered their shared apartment to find Matt curled up on the couch, looking anxious and sad. Tord had sighed and taken a tentative seat next to him. He decided to skip formalities and get right down to business,
“Why didn’t you just tell Edd from the start about how you felt?”
Matt repeated his answers word for word in his head as he worked through the conversation for at least the fifth time.
I couldn’t tell Edd! I can’t tell Edd! Did you see the way he looked at Tom, when we all first met?
A sigh—a sign Tord knew he was right. “Almost like he was…”
He looked so helpless.
“But he would’ve let you have Tom if you’d just be upfront about it.”
I could have had Tom. But then Edd would just be doing the same thing as me. He’d say, “I’m fine,” and pretend like he was okay while his heart broke.
A beat of silence. Then: “You do realize you’ll never be satisfied now.”
What’s new? I never have been satisfied. Not with love, not with my friends, not with my appearance. Nothing is ever enough.
Another beat. “Tom could have been enough.”
It was Matt’s turn to pause in thought. Then, the clinching words: Not even Tom would’ve been enough, because it meant hurting Edd.
“Matt?”
Matt jerked his head towards the doorway, surprised by the visitor. He hadn’t even heard the door creak open. Tom stood there, eyeing him concernedly. He could tell something was amiss, what with how disheveled Matt looked. Matt never let himself go this much, especially not in public.
“Oh, Tom,” Matt said, standing upright once again. He combed his hair back with his fingers as a blush spread over his features.
“Um, we’re about to cut the cake. You want to join us?”
“Oh, yeah, of course. I’ll be right there!” Here comes that fake enthusiasm again, that imaginary happiness.
“Alright,” Tom said, turning back towards the door. He froze as he gripped the door handle, unsure how to voice his concerns. “You sure you’re okay?” He turned his head back towards Matt. He hadn’t even asked the question before, but somehow that transaction seemed to have transpired between them, unspoken.
“Of course! I just got, er, overheated!”
“Oh, okay. Well, take your time. No rush.”
“I’ll be out soon, promise!” Matt knew keeping this façade up was pointless—Tom had always been able to see right through him. Except, of course, on the one thing thar actually mattered.
Tom just nodded his head, a sad look on his face. He then swung the door open and exited, leaving Matt standing alone in a silent, miserable bathroom. Matt couldn’t hold back the tears anymore.
Tord walked in moments later, having just passed Tom. The newly wed had had a concerned look on his face, and that was all Tord needed to see to know what was going on. He barged into the bathroom, not surprised by the scene he saw. He sat on the floor and scooped Matt into his arms, his friend’s height making the move awkward.
“I know,” he whispered, letting Matt cry quietly into his shoulder. He patted his back, trying to comfort him, even though he knew he couldn’t.
At least my dear Edd is his husband.
At least Tom is still a part of my life.