Your heart was breaking.
Absolutely shattering. But he couldn't know that. No, you wouldn't ruin this for him. He was happy. Over the moon. In love. Constantly bragging about how amazing she was. How beautiful. How perfect. How sexy. It hurt like hell.
And he was getting married tomorrow.
"Earth to, Y/N," he chuckled, pulling you from your thoughts. God, you needed to walk away. Cut the strings. Save yourself from any more pain. Any more torture. You needed to move on. "Where's your mind, Dollface? You look like you checked out about twenty minutes ago."
Instead of a bachelor party, he'd insisted on hanging out with you. Movies, pizza. Beers. Bucky had chosen you over his other friends. Over an actual night out. He said he wanted to spend his last night as a free man with his best friend.
Friend.
Fuck, that hurt.
Twenty years. Middle school. High school. College. You'd been in love with him. And he was blind to it. Completely oblivious. He loved you, of course. He'd tell you that regularly. But he didn't love you, love you. Not like you loved him. And you'd reached a breaking point.
You couldn't do this anymore. It was too hard. Too much. So much pain seeing him fall completely in love with someone who wasn't you. I should have been you. You'd been there through everything. Held his hand. His one constant, he always said. Yeah, old reliable. Always there.
You were done.
"What's on your mind, sugar? Really? Because you look all kinds of fucked up right now. Work draining you? You broke up with that asshole, right? Mark, Matt? Whatever his name is."
"Mike," you replied. Yeah, you'd ended it. Because he wasn't Bucky. He'd never come close. No one would ever come close. You hated it. Not like you hadn't tried. Dating over and over. One night stands. Anything to drown the ache. The sheer pain of not having the one you wanted.
You'd made up your mind. You weren't going to that damn wedding.
****
Bucky paced. Anxious. Scared. What if something had happened to you? Had you gotten in an accident on your way to the church? You weren't answering your phone. It was going straight to voicemail. Where were you? He didn't want to do this without you beside him. He couldn't.
You'd always been his rock. His closest friend. Family to him. Held him up when his mother died. Wiped his tears. You'd been there for him for every important moment for twenty years. And this was the most important one. You were nowhere to be found.
"Ready?," Steve asked from the door, noting Bucky's nerves. He chalked it up to the fact that he was getting married. "She's not here, Steve," he said, a bit of panic in his voice. "She's supposed to be here. I don't wanna do this without her. I can't."
"I think your bride would beg to differ."
****
2:00
It would be starting now. He'd be standing at the alter. Steve would step up in your place. Bucky wouldn't be alone today. He'd be fine. You on the other hand...not so much. You felt immense guilt. Sharp pain in your chest. But you couldn't watch it. Him give himself completely to her.
You picked up your phone. You needed to do it. He needed to hear it. Needed to understand. He'd get it later tonight. Maybe tomorrow on his way to the airport. Paris. Fucking Paris. Of course she'd choose that. You'd mentioned it before. That you wanted to go. Bucky had jokingly promised to take you someday.
It seemed only fitting. Another knife in the chest. Another stab in the heart.
• Hey, it's Bucky. You know what to do •
You let out a breath. Do or die.
"Hey, it's me. I just...I wanna say I'm sorry, Buck. I know you wanted me there. And I...I wanted to be there for you. But I can't, I just can't do it. I don't expect you to forgive me. Hell, I wouldn't. It's a dick move on my part. Absolutely cowardly. But, fuck, I love you. I've loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you. History class. You had the blue backpack. Matched your eyes. You stole my heart when you asked for a pencil," you let out a soft chuckle.
"I never let go. I held on, hoping someday you'd see me differently. See me the same way I see you. But, life is shit. It never happened. And I'm happy for you. I am. Honestly. I'm glad she makes you happy. Rose is good for you, I guess. I don't know. She hates me, but whatever. She makes you smile, so I suppose that's a good thing. You're smile makes me weak, Buck. Your laugh warms my heart."
Tears flowed freely now. There was no going back.
"I hate that I'm not there. You're probably upset. Disappointed. I get it. I ruined it. You have every right to hate me. I don't blame you. But you needed to know. I love you, James Buchanan Barnes. I always will. Forever. I'm sorry."
****
Bucky sat in shock as he listened. He needed to be inside now, waiting for his bride to be. He was stalling, he knew that. Rose was probably panicked. Scared. Maybe even angry. He didn't blame her. He was having second thoughts now. Your words cut like a knife.
How long? How could he have been so blind to what was in front of him all along. Twenty years.
"Buck...," Steve tried to urge, but Bucky couldn't move. He was frozen. "Buck. People are getting restless."
Becca came around the corner, eyes locked on her big brother. She knew that look. This wasn't just nerves. Something had rocked him to his core. Something shook him up. She dropped to her knees in front of him. "James? Look at me. What's wrong?"
He lifted his head. His sister's worried expression pulling him back. He said nothing, just simply handed over his phone, playing the message back for her. Her eyes widened at your words, not surprised you loved him. Surprised you admitted it.
"About time," she muttered. Bucky looked shocked. How long had Becca known? "The whole time," she responded as if she could read his mind. "It's glaringly obvious, Bucky. Shoulda been her today. If you weren't so dense."
Could he fix this? Repair it? Make up for twenty years of pain. Twenty years of pining for him?
"What do I do?," he asked her, worry laced in his tone.
She smiled up at him. "You do the right thing."
