One.
A bolt surged through me.
Two.
My lip wobbled.
Three.
My tears started to fall.
‘I always will,’ he leaned in and whispered, before slowly releasing my hand, turning around and walking away.
Ben
Twenty-seven years old …
I.
LOVE.
YOU.
That was what I’d wanted to say in those three little squeezes.
I knew I meant it.
I really did …
Being in that setting, with the emphasis of the occasion one of love and happiness, it was hard to escape the intense desire that took hold of me – making it impossible to ignore. I had an overwhelming urge to open my mouth and say the words out loud, but I couldn’t. Instead I found another way to express what I was undoubtedly sure I felt. The words pulsed through my body and out of my hands into hers, the one I loved inexplicably.
Of course, it would be easy to brush the whole thing off and insist it was a crush, a silly little case of puppy love, but it wasn’t. It was far more than that.
From the moment I saw Maddy she’d captured me. She had me completely gripped. I was fascinated with everything about her – the way she looked with her fire-like hair and flushed cheeks, the way her heart-shaped lips spoke with a softness and warmth, and the way she appeared so vulnerable as she exposed her caring heart. I adored her – it was that simple.
With Maddy in my life I felt whole. She added a magical sparkle that I’d never wanted to live without. And so I told her, with those three little squeezes. I had no agenda, no hidden plan or desire for anything to change between us – my only thought was to relieve myself of those feelings by communicating them in the only way I felt I could.
Three squeezes of love.
From me.
To her.
It was enough to know that she felt the same way back. I couldn’t have asked for anything more from her. I wanted Maddy and my best friend to have a lifetime of happiness together, knowing that I would always be there by her side, loving her unconditionally in return.
As I let her go, into the arms of the best man I’d ever known, I felt a sadness knowing the best man had won – it just wasn’t this best man.
I’m pretty sure everyone here knows who I am, but just in case there’s anyone here these guys happened to meet when I wasn’t glued to their sides, I’m Ben. I’m the best friend, well, best man for today.
When I look back at my childhood it strikes me that it was always sunny. Literally, if I were to recall a single tale from that time you can guarantee that the sun would be there, perched in the sky with her hat firmly on as she flamboyantly sucked on an orange Capri Sun and nibbled on some Party Rings. As I get older and I witness more cloudy and murky days than beautiful blue skies, I can’t help but think there’s something slightly off-balance with the way I’ve stored all those days in my memory bank. But, thinking about it, they all had one thing in common – nearly every story from my childhood, at least all of the ones with the sun shining, also contained two very special people. So, perhaps, what I actually remember is a feeling of warmth radiating from a special bond, rather than an accurate account of the weather in the nineties and noughties.
Robert and Maddy are my sunshine. Without either one of them I would be lost in a swarm of rainy days. So, thank you, guys, for pushing those dark clouds away and filling my days with light and laughter …
Epilogue
Ben
As I dropped my son off for his first day of school, I watched with a swell of pride as he gaily ran into the playground and played with anyone who showed the slightest bit of interest – he wasn’t picky, yet. A friend was simply someone who flashed a smile in his direction and included him in whatever they were doing. He had no reason to be cautious or wary of their intentions. I hoped he had many more years of that delectable innocence ahead of him – before the school politics kicked in and taught him otherwise.
I wasn’t the only one to become overwhelmed at that momentous milestone in my son’s life. His mother, my wife, hastily fished around inside her brown leather handbag – searching for a tissue to mop up her falling tears.
‘Hey – you okay?’ I asked, as I put my arm around her and pulled her into my chest for a hug, kissing the top of her head and taking comfort from the familiar smell of her shampoo.
‘I’m being silly. Sorry …’ she mumbled, shaking her head slightly at the emotion continuing to mount inside of her. Unable to regain control of her breathing, she allowed soft sobs to escape as she continued to talk. ‘He’s just so grown up. Where did the time go?’
‘He’s still our little Scruff,’ I assured her, using the nickname we’d given him on account of the fact that no matter what we dressed him in, and no matter how much we scrubbed him clean, our little tyke always looked like he’d been on some great grubby endeavour. His rosy cheeks and unruly dark curly hair didn’t help to make him look any smarter.