Beloved

Oliver almost backed out of dinner that night, but James had been unusually forceful and insistent upon his presence. Of course, Oliver relented. They both knew he couldn’t deny James anything for long anyway; it was at the very core of their relationship.

It had been a particularly hot day in July, but the evening was pleasant. A slight breeze had set in and the sun painted the sky in ethereal hues of orange and red. A few fragile clouds dotted the horizon, but none dared threaten the city below with rain. 

The restaurant was beautiful, one that Oliver wanted to try since its grand opening earlier that year. Reservations were booked weeks in advance; Oliver was impressed James had managed to secure a table at all. It now made him wonder how long James had prepared for this dinner, especially as he’d hinted at sharing an important announcement.

They were seated outside at a long table beneath a canopying white tent. The entire patio was decorated with minute blinking lights that coiled around the tent poles and around the lush vegetation whose blooms released the sweetest fragrance – roses, hyacinths, lavender, and jasmine, among others that Oliver couldn’t identify. Oliver was surprised by the quantity of seats around the table, indicative of how many people James had invited. A quick count revealed this number to be close to fifteen. 

It made Oliver nervous. 

Oliver always felt somewhat awkward at social events, but once the guests slowly arrived and after a couple rounds of drinks and appetizers, Oliver felt himself begin to loosen. The dazed contentment associated with alcohol brought along an effortlessness calm. He was on his third glass of wine, a lovely pinot noir, when he leaned back to peruse the gathering. Everyone was merry, their cheeks slightly flushed from the spirits and gaiety evident in their voices. Smiles forced eyes into crescents and laughter provided a soothing musical track to the event.  

Oliver was drawn into conversation with the woman seated on his right when he noticed James stand. He’d caught the movement out of his periphery and it drew his attention amidst the chatter and clinking of glass and cutlery. In fairness, he always had his attention on James.

He was the only spectator to witness James take a deep breath and kneel to the ground, an unmistakable velvet box clutched in his hand. 

Oliver dropped his fork, making a feeble attempt to catch it. It clattered against his plate, the sound muffled as if his head was underwater. Oliver tried to pop his ears. He’d managed to draw someone’s attention with his inelegance and they gasped at the sight in front of them. Gradually, the conversation and sounds faded into the background as everyone gawked in astonishment. They halted, forks and knives still raised.  

“My love, I can’t picture myself growing old with anyone else. You are my one and only future. Will you spend yours with me?” James asked. His voice quivered but his lips were stretched into a blinding smile, his eyes filled with much excitement and fervour. From his proximity, Oliver could feel the energy vibrating and radiating off of him in waves, electrifying the air and leaving the atoms charged.

Oliver himself wanted to gasp, but his lungs were malfunctioning and he was incapable of drawing air. He resisted his initial instinct to shrink back. He should have known that James, with all his confidence, would consider a public dinner party the ideal venue for a proposal. The man was fearless while Oliver was riddled with anxieties. 

The seconds slowed to a stop, and Oliver, in the darkest part of his soul, willed them to never start again. 

James and Oliver were always together to the extent it had become a running joke among their friends. They grew up on the same street, studied at the same elementary and secondary school, and when they graduated, it was only natural they attend university together as well. They’d even lived together throughout majority of their twenties. The bond they shared was pure and rare; others could dream to find such an understanding with another being. 

Oliver realized he’d opened his mouth before he knew the words he was about to speak.

“Yes.”

Oliver’s breath was wedged in the back of his throat. The one syllable seared through him, sparking both delight and despair in its wake. He knew the warring emotions would forever wreak havoc within the marrow of his bones. 

He was delighted by the expression on James’s face. Like a holy man before the rapture, James appeared feverish as the ecstasy took him. Oliver had never seen such a deliriously happy expression on his face. And Oliver felt despair, flavoured with the most profound grief, because of the bitter fact that the question was not asked of him, and because the affirmation had not come from his lips. 

Her name was Claire. She stood at a height of 5 feet 6 inches, with tanned skin, piercing blue eyes and soft blonde hair. She was a veterinarian. James had three dogs. They met while each were on a solo expedition to South America. By all accounts, they were perfect for each other. 

Yet not for the first time, Oliver let himself entertain the make-believe. As James laughed and pulled the glistening eyed blonde to him in a tight embrace, Oliver pretended it was his body he was holding. Oliver imagined he was being kissed.

Oliver was the owner of the hand James tenderly adorned with the engagement ring. 

A joyous cry from a nearby guest shattered the moment. Oliver jolted as time began to move and the sounds returned to the scene. A chorus of congratulations drowned the buzzing in Oliver’s ears. He chimed in as well, attempting to mask his despondent tone with a cough to clear his throat. His breathing remained restricted as he watched his beloved with his fiancée. 

The shards of glee splintered and littered the length of the table. The party continued to buzz with a newfound zeal which Oliver felt too sober to mimic. He took a generous swallow of his wine. It was tasteless. 

After those within James’s immediate vicinity had offered their congratulations, James took the seat beside Oliver and leaned close, placing his hand on Oliver’s knee. 

“I feel like this barely needs saying, but you’ll be my best man, right?” James grinned. 

Oliver relaxed his features while his chest continued to tighten. He looked into the sparkling eyes of the man he loved and smiled, putting all his affection into his words. 

“Of course.”