You never should’ve gone along with Topper’s idea to make Rafe his best man. You’d let his long friendship with Rafe be the deciding factor, when the fact that Rafe had been your first love should’ve eliminated from consideration completely. But you’d kept making stupid decisions this whole time leading up to the wedding. You’d spent time alone with Rafe, catching up. You’d let your mind wander at night, reminiscing of the time you’d been his. You’d been careless. Because there was no just being friends with Rafe, it’s why you’d stayed away from him. Once he was back in your life, that little part of you that would always love him, started to scream that you were making a mistake. That Topper wasn’t the one. He couldn’t be, because Rafe was.

And things were just getting more confusing tonight, what with you and Topper combining your bachelor/bachelorette parties. You’d drank an obscene amount of alcohol to try and act cool. To pretend that seeing Rafe talk with one of your bridesmaids flirtatiously didn’t bother you. To act like the happy girl that was getting married tomorrow. You’d let Sarah lead you onto the dance floor, grateful for the distraction.

When you were dancing, you could ignore that this damn bar was where you’d first met Rafe. You could forget that this whole damn island was filled with memories of you and him. It would be better after tomorrow. You and Topper would go on your honeymoon and then back to the city. Away from Rafe. For some reason the DJ switched the music to a slow song. You froze when the familiar lyrics of ‘LOML’ started to play. The same damn song you and Rafe had danced to the night of your breakup.

Suddenly it felt like you couldn’t breathe. You were transported back to that night. The way your heart had broken when he’d walked away from you. When he hadn’t even put up any fight. It had been the worst night of your life. But your traitorous heart still clung to all the nights before that, when you’d been happy. Memories were hitting you all at once, probably due to all that tequila. Good and bad. Rafe. Rafe.Rafe. You shook your head and pushed your way off the dance floor. You booked it to the back exit, stepping out into the cool night air, crying and gasping for air.

Rafe had seen the way your whole demeanour changed when that damn song started to play. He knew he shouldn’t care. You were marrying Topper tomorrow. You hadn’t been his for years. But he could never not care, as much as he’d tried to. All these years later and you were still the only girl that he’d ever loved. He excuses himself from the guys and follows you outside, his heart sinking when he sees you crying.

“Princess, didn’t anyone tell you that you aren’t supposed to cry the night of your bachelorette party?”

“I…I’m fine. Just go back inside” you lie, knowing he won’t believe you. He knew you too well.

“Come on. You’re having your dream wedding tomorrow” he spits the last part out bitterly, even as he moves closer to you.

“It’s…it’s not my dream. I never wanted any of these…I never pictured it like this. All I ever wanted was you” you confess. It feels like a weight has been lifted when you say it, but then the guilt immediately hits you, and you feel like a horrible person for saying it out loud.

“Princess, what are you saying?” He asks. He’s torn between his loyalty to his friend, and his love for you.