It's "supposed to," not "suppose to."
Usually, ten to twenty percent of wedding invitees can't make it. Since we're hosting this in L.A., a lot of people can't really justify the trip. I'm actually really surprised at how many people did come. Our parents are here, of course, standing with us in a line at the back of the aisle and thanking everyone for coming as they head to the reception. Kevin, Avi, and Kirstie are best men and maid of honor. Todrick rescheduled a show to be here, and Tori couldn't attend the ceremony, but she's arriving any minute to sing for our first dance. Our sisters came with their whole families. Our old choir director is here, as well as a few other familiar faces from Arlington, and our old housemates, Justin, Hayden, Chris... and Alex. Alex is here.
I didn't invite him. On one hand, it probably would have been the right thing to do, but on the other hand, Scott. Maybe it's not fair to blame Alex and Jake's wedding invite for everything that happened after, but Scott relapsed, and I'd have been a fool to let that happen again just to be polite. To be polite and to have Alex and Jake, two very important people to me, here at my celebration. And to stand my ground. It felt like a red flag, that I was so uncomfortable about the whole situation. Did it mean I'd have to spend the rest of my life doing what Scott said for fear of another meltdown? But it was too late to be looking for warning signs. Besides, this is Scott's wedding as much as it is mine, and if he was just going to veto Alex, why bother even bringing it up?
Jake looks happy, no different from the rest of our guests. Alex, though, looks like he's about to climb a mountain or take the MCAT. He's dead serious and very much on edge, anxious. I cringe a little at my parents' terseness in greeting him. Rick just kind of skips past Alex entirely, and Connie barely nods. I reach out quickly to shake his hand as warmly as I can, and Jake, following after, pulls me into a quick hug. I'm glad the two of them ended up together. Jake really cares about Alex.
I can feel the moment Scott and Alex meet eyes, and I think Jake senses it too. We simply turn to watch. I'll breathe when it's over. Scott looks steadily at Alex and slowly extends a hand. It was Scott who invited him.
I knew, when I handed Scott my first draft of the guest list, that he knew something was wrong, but I also knew he knew what it was, so I expected him to ignore it. "Mitch, wait." I was kind of trying to escape. "It's okay. You can—Wait... where is he? Where's Alex?"
"I just figured you, um, I mean, he probably wouldn't come anyway, so it's not like—"
"I thought you'd want to invite him."
I did. "Not if you don't."
"If you do, so do I."
"You got so upset before, and I don't want to be responsible—"
"No. Sit. That wasn't your fault. It's never your fault when I screw up. If you left right now and never spoke to me again, I can guarantee you I wouldn't have it in me to stay sober, but it would still be my fault, not yours."
"That wouldn't be much comfort under the circumstances. It matters that you're okay, not whose fault it is. If Alex attended the wedding, I worry you might not be okay."
"I mean, part of me actually wants him to have to watch."
"That's cruel."
"I was just..." Just kidding. I knew. I glared at him, and he shut up and apologized.
"He used to draw on me." I had to try to explain. "I got my tattoos removed because of my job, and, honestly, because I couldn't stand to look at them. You stop even noticing them a while after you get them, but when I left, suddenly every time I saw them, I remembered everything they stood for. All the things I thought would never change were written all over me, and it stung. After they were gone, though, I felt like I'd sold myself away, and when I looked in the mirror, I felt like I didn't own or belong in this body anymore. So he drew pictures on me, sometimes for hours. It helped."
He picked me up from work, booked me a therapist, made sure the bills got paid and the cat got fed while I was off acting, picked up groceries, and took care of me in every way he could think to. "We don't have to invite him. I just need you to understand. I know you knew him, but it's like you've forgotten."
"I haven't forgotten... He used to write me letters. He would slip them into my luggage before I left. But you know what he did to us, Mitch."
"And I know why, and I've forgiven him, much like I've forgiven you. I love you, Scott, and I care what you think, and I hate that you hate him."
Scott told me he'd work on it. He called Alex personally and asked him to accept our invitation, and now Alex is here, shaking Scott's hand, congratulating him, hesitating, and adding one more thing. "Take good care of Mitch."
Anyone could say that, but it means something different coming from Alex. He understands the gravity of his words. He knows all the ways Scott has failed to take care of me in the past, and I think he understands that Scott could fail again just as easily. It's not so much an accusation, though, as a concession. Alex is turning me over into Scott's hands, entrusting me to him in spite of everything, and asking Scott to take care of me. "And Mitch... take care of Scott."
