(( This post......pained me, even while I wrote it. Hope you like. ))
Jack slipped the ring into her pocket, the small piece of jewellery tumbling down to reside out of sight. At least. If only things could be placed out of mind that easily.
Then she spoke, and he waited.
Waited for his own reaction. He was almost curious about it: there were no misconceptions regarding the fact that for all of his control, he had always been most volatile around her. What would it be........ then? A sense of righteous hurt, coupled with accusations? The cold sheet of betrayal sliding down his spine, to be tempered and hidden by silence? Yet another gaping chasm in their friendship that never was?
But, for the first time in their history of misunderstandings and misconstrued intentions......one of them spoke, and with the right words. Albus kept on waiting for the reaction, that never came.
“I told you – I wasn’t going to seek you out. It’s not my place to. I wanted to respect the space that you told me you needed.”
Alright. Alright.
Morning had started dwindling into dusk, and the light of the sun, pale and almost non-existent as it was during winter months- had begun to fade. Shadows were taking birth now, nestled into the hollows of trees, skirting round the corners of the marble pathway, flitting in and out of every nook and cranny as the magical lights designed to glow at sunset in the Garden began making their appearance. The bird's twitter had ceased, the surrounds were still- silence was a peaceful friend that stroked their backs and lingered on drawn, weary eyes. Almost like it asked for confidance. Asked to be broken.
"I don't care about the Ministry. Don't care if the world burns and the people along with it." So long, so drawn, so restrained....that voice. "The Rebel movement was something to make my days less empty. But I.....revolted against the Marriage Law so much because......" No, not restrained. Subdued. "Because it took away happiness that you fight so hard for. J....just imagine, if....this were to happen under normal circumstances." Eyes rose to the sky, scoping out cloud patterns. "The wedding of Jack Dyllan."
"James would probably have thrown a hissy fit first, the arse." It meandered about it the distance, wistfully, that voice. "Threatened to bring the house down, before he lost his pranking partner to some....'random twit'. Told the bridegroom on the day of the wedding that any dumping to be done would be by his mate alone. Then he'd probably have tried to prey on the cake. The integrity of which would have to be saved by Lily, of course. The girl would scowl her way through the entire thing, invisible for most of the time; but in the end the only reason why it all came together." His lips tugged upwards, unconsciously. "Fred would have hit on all the female relatives throughout the ceremony, with his wingman Sunny of course. She'd braid his hair and deck it in sunflowers first though. He'd whinge about here and there about the loss of his masculinity....while secretly loving it. They'd have gotten on together brilliantly. And Teddy would blackmail the vicar."
Silence fell, slow and hushed: and all the while the question hung in the air. Where would he have been, then?
Would he have been decked in robes too stiff to be comfortable, tugging at his collar by the side of the altar? Fidgeting from side to side, occasionally shooting a glare at James who simply refused to stop waggling his eyebrows obnoxiously, holding down the mental breakdown underneath a tight facade whilst Fred declared the ring was lost. Then Jack's niece, Charlotte was it....would wing down the chapel, navigating between chairs, finally coming to a panting halt in the front and triumphantly hold up a shining, gold band. Then the wait......as she shuffled down the aisle, probably muttering under her breath about uncomfortable shoes, all the while as his palms grew sweaty and his eyes refused to blink, fixed on the apparition. After the solemn words were spoken, after Fred had wiped his crocodile tears on how his 'ickle Alby' had grown up so much, after the rings and the vows and Lily finally being persuaded to smile at the awkward kiss; would he finally have had the courage to draw close, in a quiet moment amidst the ruckus, and whisper in her ear, 'I love your hair.'
"And I would be sitting at the back of the reception, like the desolate Romeo every wedding would be incomplete without, and drinking away my sorrows in beer."
There would always be a small part of him, he knew, regardless of realisations, that would wish she hadn't said no that night. Life was made of if's and might been's. Maybe they would have fought, and there would be confrontations and stormy silences, and the 'yes' would have been the biggest mistake they had ever made. Maybe there was also a reason why they had opened up their secrets to each other first, and no one else: and they would have suited one another, made great, understanding companions and had a happy ending. Maybe. There was never any end to maybe's.
But now, in this moment, Albus knew that the part of him which wished.....was a small part. And that, in the end, was that.
"I don't apologise for anything I said that night." Dusk was settled now, mitigated only by the soft glow of magic. "But things......might have gone differently had I been less..." What....obstinate? Desperate?
"........irrational."
The exhale, was a long time in coming. The tone was quiet, having lost all its wistfulness. He turned to meet her eyes, because some things, regardless of the pain, had to be said. Had to be said in order to dissolve the fleeting regret in her eyes that should have had no place there. "You don't owe love to anyone, Jack Dyllan. Anyone.....regardless of what they might say. Don't ever convince yourself otherwise."