I was once again astounded by the strength of Elliot.
He walked up that aisle with an unfaltering step, nothing in his face betraying the rising panic I knew he felt.
Not once did his voice quaver when he spoke his vows. He didn't try to make it look like he was happy, he simply knew that he couldn't fall apart now if he was to go through with this.
When the time came to say if they shouldn't be together, I held my tongue. Elliot had pulled me aside the night before, impressing upon me the importance of this marriage.
He truly had accepted his fate, and nothing I said would change that.
And so I just stood there. My part was that of the best man, but surely a better man would have done differently.
Instinctively, I scanned the crowd for my husband's face. When the silence that always followed that question fell, he locked eyes with me, holding my gaze until the the silence was broken by the man resuming the vows.
Thomas gave me the smallest of nods, letting me know that what I had done was right. No matter what they all said, it still felt wrong. I watched Elliot's face for the duration of the vows, noticing the slight quiver of the lips and the deep intakes of breath.
I couldn't bring myself to look at Jasper, wanting to imagine that he wasn't there, that this whole thing wasn't happening. But it was. I can't even imagine the thoughts running through Elliot's head as he stood there, joining himself with that man.
Before I knew it, it was all over. We had walked back down the aisle into the room we had walked in from, and Elliot had pulled away from Jasper as soon as he could, turning to hug me. I felt him shaking, his emotions finally getting the better of him.
"Thank you for being up there, Alex. I couldn't have done it without you." His voice quivered, but he wasn't crying.
"You don't have to thank me."
"I do. I wouldn't have—"
"Don't you think that hugs going on a little too long, dear? I'm getting just a little jealous over here."
The drawling voice of his husband cut across whatever it was Elliot was going to say. He lifted his head from where it was resting on my shoulder, and gave me a look that reminded me of the old Elliot that I knew and loved. I hadn't seen that side of him in a while.
"Oh, I don't think so. If you actually went and visited with some of your guests, I think you would get over it."
I did my best to hide my smile. It was about time Elliot talked back to him a little. Nonetheless, he did pull away from me, but remained standing in front of me, not bothering to face his husband.
Ugh, I hate calling him that! I'm sticking with Jasper from now on.
"Why don't we go talk to our guests together?"
Jasper had wrapped his arms around Elliot from behind, and was holding him possessively, his anger at the way Elliot had answered him showing in every line of his body.
"After all, we are newlyweds. It's only right that we do everything together."
Elliot tried to step out of his embrace, but he only had him tighter, his next words whispered fiercely into Elliot's ear. I couldn't hear what he said, over the noise that followed a wedding, but whatever he said had the effect he obviously wanted. Elliot stopped struggling immediately, shoulders dropping in a show of defeat.
"You're right. See you later, Alex?"
His eyes met mine, pleading with me to not let this be the last time we saw each other today.
"Of course. I'll be at your table for dinner."
He nodded, and walked over with Jasper. I was left standing there, glaring angrily at the back of the man who I hated with everything in me.
"Ah, if looks could kill, we'd have gotten rid of him a long time ago."
I turned sharply at the sound of the voice. Prince Jordan was standing about a foot away from me, his eyes going between my face and his father.
"I'm sorry to say this to you, but I really hate him."
Jordan smiled easily, the uncanny resemblance to his father lessening slightly with the softness of the smile he must have inherited from his mother.
"Join the club. And don't be sorry. You must be a good friend of Elliot's to be his best man. Jonathan and I will keep an eye on him. Try not to worry about him too much when you go."
"Thank you."
"Yeah, you're welcome. Are you looking for Thomas?"
Until he mentioned him, I hadn't thought too much about him. Maybe I should look for him, but I'd much rather not. It would be nice to feel like I was attached to him for one night. I realized that I missed being single.
"Nope."
"An honest answer." He was grinning, probably surprised that I wasn't trying to act like I wanted to be with my husband.
"I was only wondering because I have a feeling he and Jonathon would be up to something. Jonathon told me he wants to get wasted tonight, and ever since dad let slip what happened years ago, he sticks to Thomas like glue whenever he comes here."
I knew that he hadn't meant to say everything he said, but I figured if I went along with it, he might say more.
"Oh yeah, I could see that."
"Guess he's trying to make up for something that happened a while ago, and I think he wants to try and protect him or something."
Jordan shrugged, and I watched him, trying to process what he could be talking about. Why would Jonathon be protecting Thomas?
"Oh look, there they are."
The sight of the two standing together broke off his train of thought, and I cursed inwardly. This was the perfect opportunity for answers to questions I knew I would never get from Thomas.
"What are they doing?"
I'm not the tallest of men, and it was hard to see across the mass of people.
"I don't know, probably doing shots or something."
"What?"
"Shots. You know..." He looked around for a way to explain this to me, probably thinking I was some sort of idiot.
"I know what shots are. That just doesn't sound like Thomas."
"Really? I just guessed they were doing that because they always have drinking contests when they get together."
He shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but I was still completely shocked. Jordan was making Thomas out to be some sort of partying person or something, but that was so unlike the Thomas I thought I knew.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do they do drinking contests?"
"Because it's fun? I think they have fun doing it. I don't know. I can't hold my alcohol at all, so I stay away from those. Thomas usually wins. I don't know how he does it, but he can drink for hours and totally be unaffected. The problem with that kind of drinking is that it hits you really hard at the end."
I still couldn't believe everything I was hearing. I'm sorry, but the idea of Thomas having fun seemed crazy to me.
"Now this I've got to see."
We made our way across the crowd of people milling around. It was tough going, but eventually we reached the other side of the massive room, and found Jonathan and Thomas doing exactly what Jordan had guessed.
And by the amount of empty glasses in front of them, they'd been at it for a while. The wedding only ended about half an hour ago.
"Oh hey, isn't that your husband?"
Jonathon glanced over at me, and waved enthusiastically. Thomas didn't even turn around.
"Stop trying to distract me, it won't work."
"Whatever you say, Uncle Thomas."
"Dude, shut up! That is gross."
"Well, you are my uncle now. Hey, that means Alex is my uncle too."
I didn't know whether to burst out laughing or to cringe. Maybe I could do a mix of both?
"Jonathon, you are talking like an idiot. I think you need to admit defeat before it gets worse."
"Oh no, Thomas, this is how he usually talks." Jordan cut in, patting his older brother on the head.
"Don't touch the hair of your future king, you knave! I am nowhere near defeat! I have only just begun!"
"Jon, I would give up if I were you. Thomas always wins."
"I do." Thomas was grinning, and when he turned to look at me, he didn't even try to hide it. He must be drunk if he was smiling at me after the last things we had said to each other.
"Alex can't hold his alcohol at all."
He announced to the two brothers. Thanks for calling me out like that.
"That's true." I agreed. "That's why I'm not drinking anything tonight."
"Oh good! You can stay and make sure Thomas isn't cheating."
Jonathon smiled triumphantly. He gestured to a seat in between Thomas and him, and a moment later I found myself sitting closely packed between them. Maybe it was the alcohol, but Thomas was in the best of spirits, chatting with my like I was an old friend.
It was a few hours later when Jonathon falling asleep brought the contest to an abrupt end. By this time, they had drink so much I doubted that Thomas could stand on his own two feet.
I stood up, thinking that I should call help for Jonathon, but Thomas grabbed my arm.
"Where are you going?"
"To get help for—"
"He's fine. Jordan will come get him soon. Don't go anywhere."
I was surprised by his change in mood. His jovial spirit from before was gone, replaced by...whatever this was. Please don't tell me that Thomas is one of those depressed drunks.
"I won't then. Let's get you to our room."
"Okay, but don't leave. I don't like it here." He looked almost ready to cry. He was a depressed drunk. Great.
I wrapped my arm around his shoulder and helped him to stand. He swayed slightly, but surprisingly, could almost stand by himself, which made walking to our room much easier.
On our way, we walked past Jasper, and Thomas huddled closer to me. I was surprised at him drawing us closer, and looked over at his face. The fear I saw there was so raw that it frightened me. I'd never seen a man look so terrified in all of my life.
"Don't let him see where we are going." He whispered fiercely to me, words slightly slurred by the amount of alcohol he had consumed over the course of the evening.
I looked behind me, making sure that he was out of sight.
"I will. He's gone, don't worry."
Thomas relaxed slightly, but remained tense until we got to our room, and I locked the door. He was sitting where I helped him to sit on the end of the bed, arms wrapped around himself. I felt the need to convince him that he was safe.
"Look, I locked the door. Your safe in here."
"That didn't stop him last time."
My throat suddenly felt dry, my hand sweaty. An idea of what may have happened forming in my head. The way Jasper had talked about him, Thomas being so frightened of him.
"S-stop him from what, Thomas?"
My voice was barely above a whisper, and caught in my throat. I walked over and knelt in front of him, taking his hands in mine.
He didn't try to pull them away, but his eyes wouldn't meet mine. They wandered around the room, looking anywhere but at my face.
"The lock didn't stop him from getting in."
Tears were forming in his eyes, and even as he spoke, the first few spilled out, running down his face. I felt horrible for pressing him, but I needed to know what had happened.
"When did he get in?"
"The first night we got here. Remember when we came for Jonathon's 14th birthday?"
I don't know who he thought I was, but I went along with it.
"Oh yeah. Are you older or younger than Jonathon?"
"Older, but only by a few months."
A/N: warning - mention of sexual abuse
So whatever this was happened when he was fourteen. An ugly feeling settled in my stomach. Whatever this was couldn't be good.
"I told him to go away, but he said that I acted like I wanted it. I didn't! I swear, I didn't!"
He held my hands so tightly it hurt, but I didn't flinch.
"Of course you didn't. It wasn't your fault."
"He said it was. He said I was disgusting for wanting what he did to me. I didn't want it." He shuddered. "I didn't want him to touch me like that."
I breathed in sharply, tears pricking my eyes. The way he said it was so blunt. So horrifying. For once in my life I was speechless.
So I did the only thing I could think of doing. I wrapped my arms around him, and pulled his shaking body as close to mine as I could.
"Did you tell anyone, Thomas?"
I felt his head shake from where it was buried in my neck, and felt my heart clench even tighter.
"It was too disgusting. Please, don't tell anyone."
He arms tightened around me, his tears falling on my neck.
"I won't, love. I won't."
He sighed, and silence fell between us. He seemed content with my answer, and with the way we were sitting.
He was quiet for so long that I thought he must have fallen asleep. I ran my hand through his sweaty hair, my other hand rubbing circles on his back.
"I want to go home." His voice was small and broken, almost childlike in its plea.
"Tomorrow we can. I'll take you there."
"Tomorrow?"
"Yes, as early as we can leave."
He yawned, and buried his face in my neck.
"Good. I just want you to take me away from all this."
"I will, don't worry. I'll keep you safe."
"I know you will."