"When I Was Your Man"

[A/N] I did this in the timespan of a few hours. I hope it's ok *crosses finger*

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He sat there on one of the back pews, all dressed in black, looking on as the love of his life pledged her's to another. She was stunning; wearing a snow white dress with lace embedded in, clear crystal shoes that shown brightly in the decorated church, her hair done up in a pearl encrusted bun, and her cerulean eyes shining with tears as she took her steps towards her soon-to-be husband, she looked truly happy. It gave him a sense of nostalgia, he guessed.

When he woke up that morning, the bed felt exceptionally big. It had felt empty ever since she had left, but today it was a different empty. It was like all that had ever mattered to him was slipping away, and he couldn't do a single thing to help it.

Well, obviously she wasn't all that had ever mattered to him. He was a big wig in a big company. He quit so long ago, he couldn't even remember the name now. He blames the company for tearing them apart, even though he knows it was all him.

He could've taken her to dance all those months ago, it wouldn't have been that hard to buy a bouquet of flowers, and he would give anything to hold her hand again. It was all the little things that really mattered. She didn't care that he got a new promotion, she didn't mind that he had to work late hours, but what bothered her the most was that he didn't spend the time he had with her. He was always running in and out of the house, telling her "I'll be back later, sweetie. Love you!" without even waiting to hear her response "I love you, too."

She cried most nights he was away. She would stay up as late as she could just to get a glimpse of him. He would always use the excuse "I'm tired." and went up to bed without even a goodnight kiss.

Did it hurt? More than, she guessed, he could have ever, in a million years, know. Only, he felt it now. He felt what she felt all those nights, he felt the pain and suffering, he felt the loneliness that she probably felt a good ninety percent of their relationship.

He was having all these feelings, flashbacks, and emotions even before he got in his car that morning. He knew he could've done better, he knew he should've done better, but he was young and dumb; he didn't know what he would miss out on. He wasn't even thinking of the future. He was young, and he was dumb.

He got in his car and started it up. The radio was low but loud enough so that you could hear the faint sound of a piano. He thought this day couldn't get any worse, but as always, it did. It was their song. The beautiful piano melody that was accentuated by the vocals of a male who had, had his heart broken, but had obviously found love after. It was perfect because it had played when they had first danced together. His hand snaked around her back while her hands were entangled around his neck, what bliss! They ended the night with a chaste kiss and numbers exchanged. Who knew so much could change within a year.

He understood why she left. If he were her, he would've left long before. It still hurt. The memories of her room-brightening smile was ever so present throughout his day. He missed her, more than she could ever think possible. She probably thought he would be long over her by the time he found that note taped to the fridge that cold winter night, but she would never know how much he needed her that night. It just hurt.

He arrived at the church with a few minutes to spare. Why /he/ was invited was unbeknownst to him. He thought she would want nothing to do with him. It would be justified; he would understand.

He found a seat pretty easily. He didn't want to sit in the front for obvious reasons. For about thirty minutes, he spaced out, thinking maybe it would be better for everyone if he just left. He didn't really have a place there anyway. Why would she want him there? But, nonetheless, he got an invitation. From what he could tell, it looked personalized. You would think that wedding invitations would be from a factory with the standard "You're invited to our blessed event!" printed in Edwardian Script, but this one was hand-printed in, what looked to be, her handwriting.