Bucky ran a hand through his hair. He was sure it was sticking up all over. He'd never been more terrified in his life. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn't marry Rose. But he couldn't just leave her here, humiliated in front of her friends. Her family.
This was a clusterfuck of seismic proportions.
"Bucky?," Becca asked softly, her hand on his shoulder, "what do you want me to do?"
He looked at her, a wild look in his eyes. He had no idea what to do now. There was no "right thing" here. Not really. He'd broken your heart, left it shattered. But if he left, he was the asshole who left his bride at the altar for someone else.
He couldn't win.
"I don't know, Becs. I have absolutely no clue what to do. I've already hurt Y/N. Probably beyond repair. And Rose...I can't just leave her! But I can't. I can't fucking marry her. Not now. Not like this." His tears spilled over, he couldn't control them.
"She's loved you for twenty years, Bucky. Held on. Stayed. Stuck around through everything. Literally everything. She held you up when Ma died. Bucky, look at me. You can't stay here. You can't marry Rose. Either way, someone gets hurt. There's no getting around that."
She was right. Someone's heart would break. More than there already has.
"I gotta see Rose."
****
She cried. Sobbed. Begged. She couldn't understand. Broken that her groom couldn't and wouldn't marry her. On their wedding day. What was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives. But Bucky couldn't do it. So he'd take the punishment.
"Why?," she cried and he hung his head. He did love her. She'd been a bright spot in his life. He'd genuinely imagined a future with her. Home, kids. All of it. And in a flash, it had disappeared. Because of you.
"I just...I can't do this, Rose. I can't. I love you, sweetheart. I'm always gonna love you. But I just...I'm confused," he admitted. He didn't know how else to voice it. He was painfully confused. Conflicted. He loved her but oh my god, he loved you too.
"Don't go," she pleaded. "Stay, Bucky. You love me, right? Then stay. Stay here and do the right thing."
The right thing.
What in the hell was the right thing?
"Marry me today," she sobbed. "Please."
It broke his heart. She looked beautiful in her white gown. Her hair pulled up. Veil hanging down. Makeup perfect, even though her tears fell freely. He really did love her. But he knew in his heart that staying, walking down that aisle, saying I do, wasn't the right thing.
****
He walked.
He wasn't sure how long. But he couldn't go back to the church. Everyone would know by now. Her father would be cursing him. Her mother would be holding her up while she cried. Heartbroken over her groom who left her all alone. This was a mess.
He wasn't ready to see you. Not yet. He wasn't prepared for what he'd say. What he'd do. Part of him felt guilty, like he'd led you on for twenty years. But part of him was angry. Why today? Why did you have to say this today? Why not just tell him years ago?
He played it over and over. The words in his head. How you'd loved him all this time. That you'd never really given up. But you had now, hadn't you? You were going to cut him out. He supposed he deserved that. He couldn't blame you if you did.
He needed to see you. But what in the hell would he say?
****
You tried to focus. TV. Reading a book. Playing a game on your phone. But it was useless. All you could think of was the fact that Bucky was now a married man. Probably dancing at the reception. Her in his arms. That smile on his face that you loved so damn much. He was happy, wasn't he?
In a few hours they'd be at the hotel. That goddamned wedding night. It made your stomach twist painfully. It should be you. Getting all of his affection, all of his love. If only you hadn't been so scared to tell him the truth. Preferably before he got engaged.
But you'd gone with him when he picked out the ring. He'd been so excited, but afraid he'd choose the wrong thing. He wanted your opinion. You picked out her fucking engagement ring. Story of your life. The cruelest kind of irony.
You willed yourself not to cry. At least no more. Your tears had finally dried. No more crying over Bucky Barnes. He was moving on without you. In a few weeks he'd be moving to LA with her. The other side of the country. You'd be lucky if you saw him once a year.
The knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. You couldn't imagine who it would be, everyone was at that damn wedding. "Becs?," you asked, surprised when you opened the door. She was a bit flushed. Like she'd run all that way. "Can I come in?"
****
"He left? He just...he left?"
She nodded, leaning back against the sofa. "He got your voicemail, Y/N. He walked. I have no idea where he went, he's not answering his phone. I thought maybe he'd come here," she shrugged. "Guessed wrong. He's probably a mess."
Yeah, you imagined he was.
Would he even want to see you after everything you said? Probably not. You didn't blame him. You'd literally ruined everything for him. His relationship was over. No marriage, no moving. No family, no kids. Jesus, you'd taken everything from him.
"Stop over analyzing it," she told you, "he probably just needs some time to think. He had no clue. None. I love my brother, but he's the dumbest smart guy I know. Blind to what's in his face. He's foolish, babe. Trust me. If he'd known, none of this would have happened."
"Buck would never want to hurt you."
You sighed softly. You knew that. Never intentionally. But you had hurt him. Blown everything he had to pieces. Because you'd been selfish. You should have never made that call. Never left that message.
You should have let it go and moved on.
