"What the fuck do you mean you can't be at my wedding? You're my best friend, what have you got to do that's more important than my wedding?" He roared.
"I'm sorry-" "No don't fucking say you're sorry, I don't care if you're sorry, just say you'll fucking be there with me, where you belong, at that altar, while I marry the woman I love -" "Harry don't-" "No you don't! Is this about whatever it was that had you getting wasted on champagne the other night? You know i'd never push you but if it's got you refusing to come to the best day of my life then i'm pushing -" "Harry stop."
She never yells. Ever. So he stopped. She shook her head, grabbing her clothes off the chair. "I can't do this."
He was quick to follow her down the stairs, calling her name repeatedly.
"Y/n I swear you walk out that door right now and i'll never speak to you again." "Then you're never speaking to me again."
His hand slammed against the door as she pulled it open.
"What the fuck! Were you really going to walk out on me like that? On us?" Tears began to stream down both their faces, she pulled at her long locks while he rubbed his hands over his face.
"Fuck y/n talk to me. I can't - I won't go through my big day without you. So please, love, i'm begging you- tell me. Why are you doing this?" He was pleading, begging, he didn't want to imagine his wedding day without her.
"Don't make me do this Harry, please." His face was now red with anger, brighter than she'd ever seen it.
"Y/n. Why can't you be at my wedding?" "Harry I-" "Y/n, why?" "I just-" "Y/n fuck!"
"I can't be at your fucking wedding because i'm hopelessly in love with you! I love you!"
Their heartbeats could be heard. It was that silent. Harry felt like somebody had knocked the air out of his lungs. Her fingers clutched on to the little 'H' hanging around her neck.
After what felt like an eternity of silence, surprisingly enough, he was the first one to speak.
"You love me."
She bit her lip, contemplating her next move. He said it more to himself than her. He plopped himself down on a step with a shaky sigh.
"You love me. Fuck."
She nodded, walking to the front door, one she'd probably never walk through again.
"I love you, which is why I can't watch you marry somebody else. I'm sorry."
And just like that, 26 years of friendship slipped through their fingers. She had already turned on the ignition when his brain registered her absence, sprinting to the door, yelling a 'y/n wait!' before realizing it was too late, and she was gone, and his best friend, would in fact, not be at his wedding.
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A week had gone by. Harry filled her voicemail. She had 225 missed calls and 192 unopened texts. Every single time 'H💘🤞🏽' would flash across her screen, she'd toss the device away, forcing herself not to pick up.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world."
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