Uncommon (BWWM)

Chapter 34

Arthur stares at the crinkled paper he has clutched in his shaking hands. His eyes scan over the the sentence over and over and over again until the words become nothing but letters on the page strewn about like pieces of a discarded jigsaw puzzle.

It still doesn't feel real.

Arthur is currently perched on the edge of a dressing room chaise, careful not to crease the ridiculously expensive tuxedo his mother had made especially for him.

He wears a white shirt, covered by a plain grey waistcoat with a cream satin back. On his legs are matching grey trousers, in which his thighs are hugged comfortably, and attractively, if he can say so himself. His tie is also cream-coloured, and is tucked into his waistcoat.

His suit jacket, black, with two long tails at the back and a small white rose in its pocket, is hung up on the frame of the bathroom door in front of him.

He runs his hands over the paper again, then reaches into his trouser pocket and retrieves the card upon which he found Grace's note. Despite having only found the note to begin with, Arthur had noticed that the paper was tucked neatly in the back of the painting, hidden well, but obvious enough to be found upon further inspection.

Arthur huffs, frustratedly.

He sent Grace that letter a month ago and he'd been stewing in what-ifs ever since. He meant what he wrote, but he wrote it on a whim, when he felt at his lowest, his most desperate. Every day he gets closer to the wedding, the less confident he became about Grace responding. But now? His head is more scrambled than ever. All he wants is to board that plane and forget the world, but the thought of leaving this life behind is... It's terrifying.

"Arthur? Are you in there?" A deep voice rumbles from outside the door.

Arthur stands, walking over to the door and unlocking it, pulling it open slightly and backing away.

A hand appears around the edge of the door, then it opens completely, revealing Arthur's father, James.

The man is tall, taller than his son by a couple of inches, with light brown hair, which is peppered with grey strands. Arthur looks like his mother, but he shares his father's features. The deep brown eyes, floppy brown hair, and plump pink lips. They make a handsome pair of men.

"Hey, Dad." Arthur says softly, returning to his seat on the chaise.

"Son," James nods, settling down on a stool near a large window, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm... okay." Arthur tells his father, taking a noticeably long time to find an answer, "Why'd you ask?"

"Because it's a big day." James points out, then he raises an eyebrow, "And I'm sure this isn't how you expected it to happen?"

"What? What are you talking about?" Arthur splutters with a frown, looking away from his dad.

"Come on, Arthur. I may be quiet, but I'm not blind. I know that Rebecca isn't the one you'd rather be marrying today."

"I-I..." Arthur tries to find the words, but he comes up short. He settles for just staying silent, staring at his father hopelessly.

"Her name is Grace, right?" James asks, continuing at the slight nod of his son's head, "She seems nice. From what I've heard. Intelligent, a good head on her shoulders."

"She's stupid is what she is." Arthur grumbles petulantly.

"Why's that? Because she let you go to do your duty? Because she put the needs of her country above her own?"

Arthur doesn't respond.

"Well I would call that noble, self-sacrificial, not stupid. She gave up her happiness so that you wouldn't have to choose between her and your county. The stupid thing to do would be to let that sacrifice be in vain."