The reception of Gaz’s wedding was alive with energy before the music shifted into something slower and intimate. The kind of song that invited people to hold their loved ones close. Simon sat at a far table, his hand wrapped around a glass of whiskey. He leaned back in his chair, watching the couples dance and hold each other tight; the picture of joy.

Then there you were. The center of it all, dancing with some man he didn’t know the name of, didn’t bother to know. He wasn’t important to him but the way he made you laugh when he leaned in made a gut wrenching pain twist deep in his chest. You looked so beautiful tonight, the soft light catching in your hair, the grace you moved with. You were a vision.

He tried to ignore the ache crawling up his spine. He should’ve been the one out there with you, holding you close and making you laugh. But he never had, not even when you’d ask him to back when you were his.

You’d tease whenever there was music on, tugging at his hand, and somehow he was able to deny you each time. He made excuses, too tired, too self conscious, too unwilling to let his guard down. And he thinks it’s part of the reason he lost you.

And now, he sat there alone; hating himself for ever letting you slip through his fingers. Hated that he wasted all those moments together. If he could just have one dance, maybe it would fill the void that ached in his chest; but it felt too late. He was a fool.