Wedding, Chapter Three Outtake

It had been a three o'clock wedding.

Or it was supposed to be. Blaine wasn't sure about the correct wording for it anymore. Something dull ached inside his chest as he walked along one of the tables in the hall where the reception was supposed to have been, his fingers tracing the edge of it.

He glanced vaguely at the clock on the far wall. Six o'clock.

After an hour of waiting, one of his groomsmen—he thought maybe it had been Thad or Trent, though he couldn't be certain anymore—had gently told him Christian wasn't coming, and they were going to have to send everyone home.

He remembered the look of heartbreak on Ella's face, dressed like a princess, still clutching her basket of flowers. Her mother Julia had clutched Blaine's hand tightly and sympathetically, while her father, Cooper, Blaine's brother, had repeatedly asked if he needed anything. But Blaine shook his head and assured them he'd see them at their house a little bit later. He told them he just needed a moment alone, and Julia nodded understandingly, giving his fingers one last squeeze before their small family left.

Blaine took a shaky breath, sitting down on the edge of the small platform at the front where the band was supposed to have set up, where he was half-certain his friends would have commandeered the mic at one point to sing their own songs, just as they did at Wes's wedding. His lips twitched slightly, as if to almost smile at what might have been.

He heard the door open at the far end of the dark room. He glanced up, watching a familiar figure approach him. His heartbeat quickened, and he licked his lips.

"You came," Blaine commented breathlessly and the man stared at him before directing his attention away again.

"You're still here," Christian murmured. Blaine swallowed, nodding slowly.

"I didn't know what else to do with myself," he admitted, and Christian shook his head. "Where were you?" Blaine asked in a soft voice.

"Blaine..." Christian said slowly. He shut his eyes tightly. "I can't do this anymore."

"What?" Blaine asked, a small laugh of disbelief escaping his lips, as though he hadn't heard the other man properly.

Christian sighed, sitting beside Blaine on the platform. "I love you," he assured him. "I just... I can't do this."

"If you don't want to get married, that's fine, we—"

"No," Christian quickly cut across. He sighed frustratedly, dragging his hand over his face. "I was with someone else today," he told Blaine quietly. He waited several moments for Blaine to say something, but instead he was silent. Christian shook his head again. "It wasn't just today," he admitted softly.

"How long?" Blaine asked. Christian didn't respond, and Blaine inhaled deeply. "Before or after we got engaged, then?" he asked, anger and hurt finally seeping into his words.

Christian merely hung his head. "Before," he said, hardly audibly.

"Are you serious?" he snapped. "I—you—what you said... it meant nothing, didn't it? All that it being 'just you and me'?"

Christian closed his eyes. "Please don't ask me why I did it, Blaine, because I don't know," he told him quietly. "I'm so sorry." He turned to him. "I honestly wasn't trying to hurt you."

Blaine shook his head. "I just don't understand how you could—" He broke off, taking a deep breath. "I..."

"Come on, Blaine, our entire fucking relationship was a sham," Christian said bitterly.

Blaine narrowed his eyes. "I loved you—"

"And I loved you!" Christian told him. "I still love you, Blaine." He shook his head. "I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me right now that never, during our entire relationship, did you ever either want to kiss someone else, or imagine that you were."

Blaine glanced away, feeling a sharp pang of guilt. Truthfully, there had been the briefest moments when a fleeting memory had made its way right into Blaine's head. But still...

"You never acted on it," Christian said, voicing Blaine's thought. "I guess that makes you a better person than me."

"I wanted to spend my life with you," Blaine whispered.

"No," Christian said. "It wouldn't have been right for either of us." He sighed. "I still love you," he murmured, getting to his feet. "Maybe one day—"

"No," Blaine cut across him. "I never want to see you again. Especially if you're about to walk right back out those doors. You do that, you're walking out of my life for good."

Christian was about to move his hand to Blaine's shoulder, but thought better of it, pulling it back to his side. "Please believe me that I am sorry, Blaine," he said again. However, the man didn't look up to him again, and Christian sucked in a breath, turning and walking down the pathway between the tables, and out the doors.