The Worst Best Man

by M. J. O'Shea

  August stopped in his tracks and turned to stare incredulously at Christopher. “Yeah, you say that, but then you just let your friend humiliate me back there. And you don’t want to introduce me to anyone else. You go to parties without me, and you didn’t tell me on purpose. You’re still ashamed of me, aren’t you? Is that it?”

  “Of course not. I’m….”

  Christopher looked like he didn’t quite know how to explain his way out of it. Because there was nothing to explain. The pretty dream August had been living in all summer was just that. A dream. August didn’t fit into Christopher’s real world, and Christopher was embarrassed to have him there.

  “Go back to your party, Christopher. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Louise and Will are going to be here tonight and tomorrow if you or Libby need anything. I’m officially off duty.”

  It was unprofessional as hell, but August couldn’t suffer through another moment in that house. He couldn’t pretend to smile.

  Christopher nodded brokenly and bit his lip.

  “I love you,” he said quietly.

  “Seriously?” August said. “You might want to look the definition of that word up next time before you use it.”

  August looked at his phone. If he hurried, he’d be able to make it to the train station in time to catch the last train back to London. Hell if he was staying in this damn house overnight. He’d done his job, at least most of it. Will and Louise could handle the rest. And Edward, Christopher, and hell, even Libby, who was sweet but still very much one of them, could take their yachts and fancy cars and horses and stately homes and shove the whole lot up their stuck-up arses.

  August was done.

  CHRISTOPHER was in shock. That was the only explanation for why he felt like his blood had stalled in his veins. He’d managed to make it back into the wedding tent, but he had no idea what anyone was saying.

  I should’ve gone after him.

  He’d just let August go, stared after him as he jogged toward the big house. He had to go after him. There had to be some way to show that he was sorry, that he hadn’t meant it to look the way it most certainly looked. I need to talk to him. Christopher went to stand but was stopped by an iron grip on his hand.

  “I think you’ve done enough for one day,” Libby muttered angrily under her breath.

  Christopher noticed that she was pointedly not looking at Edward. She’d scooted her chair away from him as well. Probably not what she’d had in mind when she pictured her fantasy wedding day.

  “I’m sorry, Lib—”

  “I don’t think it’s me you need to be apologizing to.”

  “It’s just the way it is,” he muttered.

  She sighed. “I know. But it doesn’t make me any happier with you right now. Or Edward.”

  THE rest of the night felt like it moved through molasses. He had to endure Louise’s glares, and Will, once he returned to the marquee to find August missing and an assistant ready to charge into battle. It had to have been one of the most painful nights of his life. He was relieved when he dropped into bed at the end of it with Fergus at his feet. Part of him wanted to gather his things and get the hell back to London, but he figured Libby was probably right. A bit of distance would help before he went charging back in to fix things. Still, he couldn’t let August go all the way back to London without hearing from him. He pulled out his phone and sent a lone text.

  I love you

  August didn’t answer. Christopher hadn’t expected him to, but it still hurt like hell.

  Chapter Eleven

  AUGUST limped into work Monday morning like he’d come back from battle—in a way he had. He kept asking himself if he was overreacting. Maybe. Who knows? It didn’t feel like it at the time. It felt like senior year of college all over again and Christopher picking the world he grew up in over August. He supposed Christopher had the right to make that choice, even if he’d said he wouldn’t. August also had the right to try to salvage what was left of his bruised heart.

  Will was waiting in his office with a huge coffee and a face August would recognize anywhere.

  “He did it again, didn’t he?”

  Will had been at the wedding all day, but he’d missed the fight. He’d probably not even known August was gone until he woke up to find the text August had sent from the last train out of Cornwall that night.

  “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you and Lou there all alone. It was so unprofessional.”

  “Babe. It was fine. All the real work was done. I’m just worried about you. What happened? Louise didn’t tell me much, only that you’d left. I think she wanted me to keep my cool.”

  August sank down into his chair and took a long drink of the near-perfect latte. He didn’t taste it much, though. “I ended it. He’d been invited to some party thing that he goes to every year, and he wasn’t even going to tell me about it, because he didn’t want to introduce me to all of his little society friends. Turns out he’s been going to those events all summer without mentioning them to me. I’m not going to be someone’s dirty little secret, you know? I’m better off on my own.”

  “Fuck yes.” Will scrunched his forehead so his eyebrows knitted together. “You want me to go kick his arse?”

  “Yes.” August laughed. “But no. It’s over now. No more wedding, no more Christopher. There’s no point in being angry about it. We can send Libby our bill, and I can go back to pretending that neither of them ever existed.”

  Sounded pretty good, right? Felt like absolute hell. He was back at square zero. Or at least almost. He wasn’t quite where he’d been senior year when he’d been so sure he and Christopher were forever. What the hell had Christopher planned to do when he’d moved in—sneak off in the night to his fancy friends and leave August wondering where he’d disappeared to? He thought maybe Christopher just wanted the best of both worlds. He wasn’t getting August anymore.

  “You think it’s possible to pretend this summer never happened?”

  “I definitely think that’s possible.” Maybe. Probably not.

  Will grumbled. “You need a nice Northern lad, you do. No more of these posh London twats.”

  “Technically, Christopher’s a posh Falmouth twat. Or posh internationally rich twat.”

  “Which has to be the worst. Fuck ’em. Fuck ’em all. Tossers.”

  “Yeah,” August said with a grin he didn’t really feel. “Fuck the tossers.” He almost laughed after that, but it hurt too much. He was afraid he might start crying.

  “I’ll text Weez,” Will said. “He can take us out tonight and get you pissed off your head. You need a sloppy drunk night.”

  “Will. It’s Monday.”

  “And we worked all weekend, and you’ve just had a horrible setback.”

  Setback was a mild way of putting it. He felt like his insides had turned to acid.

  “Surely Helena will be just fine with you taking a few mental health days.”

  “I don’t suppose it’ll hurt to ask. Ready to head down to the meeting?”

  August didn’t know how he was meant to sit through a meeting with the headache from hell and a heart that had been put through a cheese grater. He grabbed a notebook and pen and his latte and followed Will out of his office and down to the conference room. Maybe the meeting would be short.

  Helena ran her usual Monday summary: schedules and updates, pictures of the previous week’s events. Obviously Libby’s wedding topped it. Topped nearly everything August had ever done, to be honest. The conference room filled with oohs and aahs at the beautiful pictures. It was only slightly vomit inducing for August to watch them. Especially the pictures of the doting best man, smiling and happy and beautiful in his suit. Someone in the office whistled when he came up on the screen. August wanted to scream.

  Next Helena did what they’d all been waiting for, at least in the back of their minds, for months. She announced whom she’d chosen to head the New York office. August wished it had come on a better day when he
actually cared what happened to his life. But he listened anyway.

  “I don’t think this will come as a surprise to any of you who I’ve chosen. So, without further ado, congratulations to August O’Leary. If you’re interested in it, the New York office is yours. Your work on the Pritts-Shackleton wedding just proved to me that you are more than qualified for the job.”

  August was shocked that something had gone so well for him when it felt like his world was about to fall apart. He stood amid applause and gave Helena a rather embarrassingly long hug. Then he nodded and gave Will a grin.

  “I’d be delighted to take the job,” he said.

  He could tell there were a few people in the room who’d probably been hoping he’d turn it down, but there wasn’t a chance in hell August wasn’t taking the opportunity. He was going to get to start over in a new city much closer to home, with a higher-paying job and nothing around to remind him of everything that had happened in the past eight months.

  I’m going home….

  AUGUST was still reeling by the time he got back to his office. He had needed it so damn bad, needed a new place and a new city, that he figured it would go to someone else. But it didn’t. It was his. He had never been more grateful for anything in his life. It just seemed so perfect. He was more than ready to start fresh.

  August’s door popped open. “Have you talked to Helena about taking me with you?” Will asked.

  August laughed. “I haven’t even breathed yet. I told you it would be the first thing I did.”

  Will held the door open and gestured. “Now would be fantastic,” he said.

  It was so typically Will that August burst into laughter. It felt kind of good to laugh, after everything that had happened. He didn’t know what he’d do without Will in his life.

  “You’re coming with me, don’t worry. I can’t do this without you.” August stood and gave Will’s shoulder a tight squeeze. “Have you called your family yet?”

  “Not until this is all settled. Have you called yours?”

  He hadn’t talked to his mom since before Longwick. She wasn’t going to be happy about that. On the other hand, she was getting August back, and without Christopher there wasn’t a single reason for him to even consider turning the job down. “No. Of course not. It’s the middle of the night there. She’s going to be so happy, though.”

  “Right.” Will nodded. “Um, are you going to call… him?”

  “Hell no.” August missed him with every cell in his body, but he wasn’t going to give Christopher the satisfaction of knowing he was running away. At least he sort of was. “I’ll go talk to Helena now. She’ll have to approve my first choice in new hires. We’re going to New York.” August grinned at Will. “I almost can’t believe it.”

  August started packing that night. Helena had said there was no rush, it would take nearly a month for their office space to be move-in ready, but August…. He had no reason to stay in London, and all of a sudden he was dying to go.

  He’d miss Lou and Weezy and some of his satellite friends, and fuck, he’d miss Christopher too until he had the chance to get over him, if that ever happened, but he wanted to get out. It was more than a want. He needed to get out. Every time he closed his eyes, every time he so much as tried to relax, all he could see was Christopher’s face—smiling in bed, laughing in the park, flushed with passion. August wondered if the day would come where he’d wake up and not see Christopher every moment of every hour. He supposed it might someday. It hadn’t happened yet.

  FOUR days later, August was ready to leave. He had his apartment cleaned out, his ticket bought, and he’d said his good-byes around the neighborhood and to people he knew he’d probably never see again. He’d packed with a vengeance, like something or someone was chasing him. Maybe the near-constant buzzing on his phone. August knew who it was. His heart couldn’t handle another encounter, so he avoided and packed and cleaned like a madman. He was vicious about what he threw in the skip. He sent most of his furniture to charity stores, packed some clothes to be shipped and others to be given away. The less he took with him, the better.

  Helena had signed a lease on a Soho loft not too far from their new offices and paid it a few months in advance as a perk for August. She said he could use it for a couple of months and look for a place or take over the lease on his own. The apartment didn’t open for three weeks, but August had finished up all his major projects at the London office with the completion of Libby’s wedding, and he wanted to spend some time with his family before he jumped into things in New York. So he was leaving. And it couldn’t be soon enough.

  His phone had rung incessantly in the four days since the announcement. Christopher mostly, Libby too. He’d ignored it. He decided it was best to have a clean break. Disappear out of their lives and never show his face again.

  ON his last night, before a lunchtime flight to Boston, he went out for drinks with Louise, Weezy, and Will, whom he’d see again in a few weeks. It was the first time he’d allowed himself to feel sad about leaving London. He loved Louise to death and Weezy too, in a way. It felt strange to know he wasn’t going to see them at work or the next pub night. He vowed to at least keep in touch.

  “I’m going to miss you, boss,” Louise said.

  “You’re one of the bosses now,” August told her with a smile. She’d been promoted to take his position in his absence. Soon she’d have an assistant and a partner of her own. “You’ll have to come visit the dream team in New York and report back to Helena.”

  He threw his arm over Will’s shoulder. Will grinned at him. August knew he couldn’t wait to go. Will was spending a few weeks up North with his family before flying out himself. He and Will were going to take over Manhattan together. They were already drowning in prebookings, thanks to the notices Helena had mailed out to all her best American contacts.

  Louise grinned at the two of them. “I can’t wait to see what you two get up to. I expect pictures. Lots of pictures.”

  “I can’t believe both of you are leaving me here,” Weezy groaned. “Might have to get me a job at a label in the States so I don’t get lonely.”

  “You’d be welcome at all our parties, Weez,” August said. Turned out the loft Helena had rented was both large and rather expensive. Will and August had already decided sharing was caring… and a hell of a lot cheaper. August was going to be allotted a much larger salary than his current one, but he’d rather not start his new life in New York broke as hell. The place looked beautiful, though. He couldn’t wait to move in.

  August’s phone buzzed again. He picked it up and saw that it was Christopher texting. Again. Then he proceeded to drop the phone in his pint. The plan was going to be canceled at the end of the month anyway. August couldn’t take any more.

  “Bit dramatic, mate?” Will asked.

  “It’s fine. I’m going to get a new US phone when I get home day after tomorrow. Might as well have a bit of fun getting rid of this one. E-mail me your numbers. I’ll put them in right away.”

  “Was that Christopher?” Louise asked him.

  “Yeah.”

  “How long has it been since you talked to him?”

  “Libby’s wedding. Did you think I’d talk to him after all that?”

  Louise gave him a gentle look. “Don’t you think you owe it to yourself to hear what he has to say? He really loves you. I could see it every time he looked at you.”

  August gritted his teeth. “I love you guys, but I don’t want to talk about Christopher. He loves me, but not enough to not be ashamed of me. I love him, but I don’t want to get my heart broken again. It’s better that we part ways and not drag it out.”

  “Does he even know about New York?”

  August shook his head. “What’s the point in telling him?”

  “Lou, August is trying to get over the dickhead. Can we let him?” Will asked. He’d softened so much toward Christopher over the summer. They’d almost gotten to be friends. That died in a heartbeat the mome
nt Christopher hurt August.

  “Why can’t we be in love with each other?” August asked Will. They’d talked about it multiple times over the years. That they’d make the perfect couple if they could find even a remote interest in each other. Sadly, that had never come to pass, and it never would.

  “I don’t know. Maybe we’ll get married anyway. We can get two little dogs and sleep in separate bedrooms.”

  “Sounds a bit like my grandparents,” Louise muttered.

  August chuckled. “See, it’s the perfect plan. You can complain about the noise the neighbors make, and I’ll harp on you to take your vitamins.”

  Will laid his head on August’s shoulder. “I’ll miss you, my husband. It’ll be nearly a month before we see each other again.”

  Louise swatted Will over the table. “C’mon. You’ll survive. Besides, isn’t this one sleeping in your flat tonight?”

  August had turned in his keys earlier that day and taken one last look around the flat that he’d loved with all his heart for five years.

  “Yeah. We’d better go. I promised him one last trip to Costa before I drop him at the airport.”

  Louise made an outraged face. “Don’t talk like you’re never coming back to visit. You’d better come back.”

  “I will,” August said. “I promise.”

  Not for a while, though. He couldn’t handle looking at all the familiar places until he was at least partly over it. That might take a year or two. Or ten.

  “ARE you ever going to talk to me again?” Christopher stood on Libby’s front steps and stared down at the checkerboard tiles beneath his feet. He didn’t know if he could look Libby in the eye. He could barely look himself in the eye anymore.

  “Maybe.”

  “Libbs, I’m dying here. Please.”

  She sighed. “Come in. I’m still mad at you, you know.”