Chapter 29

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"I really like the white, but I think the red is the one though, mate." Rich muses, standing in the changing room staring at himself in the mirror.

"Yeah, yeah whatever you feel." Arthur responds absentmindedly, securing the cuff-links on his crisp white shirt.

Rich looks at his cousin with a raised eyebrow, "Bro, you need to have an opinion on this. Your tie has to match my suit. And I don't wanna show up in a red suit and fuck up the colour scheme of your wedding."

Arthur frowns, a look of contempt washing over his face, "I don't care, Richard. I really, really, don't care."

"You should care, it's your wedding." Rich comments, looking at Arthur though his peripheral as he fixes the black bow-tie around his neck.

"Doesn't feel like it's my wedding." Arthur mutters, looking at the sharp black suit that adorns his body, "it feels like my funeral."

Rich releases a short, shocked laugh, "Don't be so dramatic, Arthur. You chose this, remember."

"What?!" Arthur exclaims in disbelief, "I did not choose this."

"Oh, I'm sorry? I must be mistaken, because I was under the impression that you were in love with a beautiful woman, and gave it up because Mummy said so." Rich says mockingly, turning to his friend and fixing him with an accusatory look.

"You did not just say that!" Arthur snaps angrily, "You know I didn't ask for this! Grace made this decision, not me!"

"Because she didn't want to make you do it!" Rich hits back, then he pauses, taking a deep breath to calm himself down, "Look, this is hard on you, I know that. You got put in an impossible position and had to make a choice."

"I absolutely did not make a choice."

"Yes you did. Grace wanted to be with you, but didn't want to be a princess. That sounds like an ultimatum to me."

"She didn't give me an ultimatum." Arthur pouts with a furrowed brow.

"No, she's too nice for that. She fooled you into thinking she made the choice to leave. But she didn't leave you, she left royalty. But because she wanted save you from the guilt, she didn't tell you it was an ultimatum."

Arthur huffs, turning away from his cousin to look at himself in the mirror again, contemplating, "What does this have to do with enjoying my wedding?"

"Everything. You're a grown man, Arthur. The moment you decide you don't want something, you can leave it behind. If you really didn't want to go through with this wedding, if you wanted to drop everything and be with Grace, you could. But instead you're here, two weeks after she left, trying on tuxedos. This is you making a choice. You don't get to complain about it now."

Rich picks up two ties and holds them to his own neck.

"Now, white or red?"

~~~

"So, this is my apartment!" Will exclaims, opening the heavy fire door to the entrance of his flat, "My flatmates have all gone home by now, so it's just me."

Sam follows his brother through the white corridor, which is bare aside from  lone radiator and a floor-length mirror.

He raises an eyebrow, "Not very lived in, is it?" He comments jokingly taking in the clinical colour of the walls.

"Shut up, we aren't here long enough to decorate." Will grumbles with a roll of his eyes.

"Where's the kitchen?" Sam asks eagerly. He likes to cook; before her death, his birth mother had curated book of old Asian recipes that she'd collected from her family over the years. When Sam was old enough to read, his parents gave it to him, and he's barely been away from a kitchen since.

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