All credit goes to swooncalumswoon
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Calum could feel your eyes on him from across the room. He snuck a peek at you and saw you had a quizzical look on your face. It was that look you had when you knew something but you couldn't figure out what you knew.
Calum shivered, thinking of events of that night. The argument, you throwing the engagement ring across the room, you storming out, your mother calling him to say that there'd been a terrible accident. Everything was still so vivid to him. The cuts and bruises that covered your skin, the casts that covered both of your legs and arms and the neck brace that kept you from further damaging your spine.
Your mother was the first one to find out. Find out that you couldn't remember anything from the age of eleven and up. You met Cal when you were fifteen.
Your mother never liked him. He was 'bad for you', he 'distracted you from studying' which would later ruin your life because you wouldn't get the A-level grades you wanted, meaning you wouldn't be able to go to the university of your dreams- Cambridge. That was your dream, right? To go to Cambridge.
No.
It was your mother's dream. Not yours. You wanted to travel the world and search for inspiration so you could paint. Painting was what you loved. And you wanted to turn the hobby into a job. Another part of your dream was Calum. He was going to be there every step of the way: supporting you in your painting career and fucking you in every city and town you both visited together.
Well, that was your dream when you knew who he was.
But you'd attended the university. You still attended the university.
Calum knew it wasn't what you wanted. He'd been the one to console you when your mother pushed too hard. He'd been the one who turned your tears of joy into tears caused by laughing too much. He'd made you laugh until your stomach hurt and you couldn't breathe properly. He'd been the one you fell in love with.
Yet you couldn't remember him.
As soon as your mother realised this, she took the opportunity to push Calum out of your life with a triumphant grin, shoulders back with her head held high with pride.
She'd convinced Calum that you wouldn't be the same person as before. That he'd scare you off as he claimed to be the man you had loved. And of course, you didn't love him if you'd thrown the ring back in his face.
So he let you be. He took all his belongings from the house, all the photos of the two of you together and moved far far away. It hurt him. It still hurt him. In fact, it hurt him more now as he watched you smile at the guy who had a hand on your thigh. But looking closer, he saw that that was your fake smile.
If he'd had the choice, he wouldn't have come to this wedding, but he was the groom's best man. Well, he'd like to think he wouldn't have come. He knew he would have come no matter what if you were here. He was curious to see what you looked like now. If you'd changed at all. Or maybe, just maybe, if you'd remembered him.
Being the best man was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because he could keep an eye on you from where he sat at the raised table at the front of the room. A curse because he had to constantly restrain himself from getting up and wrenching your date off of you.
Calum didn't know much about your date other than that he was called Connor and that the two of you had met at one of your mother's dinner parties.
Although you wanted to, you hadn't gone any where near Calum today. You'd only stared at him, trying to figure out who he was, why you were so drawn to him and why he was so attractive. Maybe you were drawn to him because he was attractive.
