𝗘𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗟𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 [ 𝚃𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 ] ❜

𝑀𝑦 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑀𝑦 𝐿𝑖𝑓𝑒

𝐼𝑛 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ - 𝑌/𝑁 𝐵𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑖𝑠 𝑔𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑜𝑢𝑏𝑡 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜.

Inspired by: My Love, My Life ~ Lily James, Meryl Streep and Amanda Seyfried
(Yes, I know the original is by ABBA, but the film version in Mamma Mia changed the lyrics to fit a parent child bond as if it was made for me to write this!)

Warning - This oneshot will be horrendously sad, and covers death, grief and bereavement. I haven't actually started writing it yet, but based on the plot idea, I am betting you will probably need a tissue box handy.

It's another AU as well - none of this is real! Dawn or any of Gary's real kids don't exist in this AU, just him and Y/N. Also, the day this really happens is a day I don't want to ever happen though it inevitably will, but writing this plot was very important for me to do. Please don't be offended, I'm so very sorry to you all and to Gaz, but I hope you enjoy it anyway xx

𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝐺𝑎𝑟𝑦 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔/𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔
𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗻𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗚𝗮𝗿𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗬/𝗡 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿

♡'･ᴗ･'♡♡'･ᴗ･'♡♡'･ᴗ･'♡♡'･ᴗ･'♡

Like an image passing by

My love my life

In the mirror of your eyes

My love my life

A bedroom, somewhere, 2018

"Oh, Sweetheart, you look absolutely gorgeous." I smiled softly, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of Howard's head.

"I can just imagine his face if he was here now." Immediately, my smile faltered. He. As in Gary Barlow. My dead father.

Today was the 20th December, meaning it was exactly 4 years since he'd died. It was also my wedding day. Not a deliberate choice, no, but a terrible one all the same.

They say it's supposed to be the best day of your life don't they, your marriage? The day you'll never be able to forget and spend months meticulously and excitedly planning. Not me though. In fact, I'd been dreading this day for 4 years, not because I necessarily feared marriage, but because I knew my dad wouldn't be there to give me away.

It also meant ending the Barlow name forever. Being an only child to a single dad, as soon as I married, I'd no longer be a Barlow, and that would be it. The lasting legacy of the man that was my father and my only friend, gone, forever. And what sort of daughter could I call myself for wanting to do that?

"What do you think he would say, you know, if he could see me right now?" In my head, I had my own fair idea. He'd probably say I was a failure for marrying off the Barlow name. He wouldn't be wrong.

"I don't think he'd be able to say anything! You were always the only one who could make Gaz speechless!" At the memory, a tear escaped down my cheek.