“You may now kiss the bride.”

The words ring loudly in my ears. I look down at my new wife and smile before kissing her.

I am now officially a married man. I had always thought this day would make me feel so happy. So why am I suddenly sad?

We end the kiss and turn to face our guests, who are all smiles and thrilled for us. All, except for one. I stare into the eyes of one of my best friends and notice something that sends a chill of alarm and fear up my spine. Where normally there was a spark of life, a light of the brightest blue in his eyes, now there is nothing but a dull glare.

I feel myself being nudged gently. It’s time to walk up the aisle, past everyone, and go on to the reception. I link arms with my wife and we make our way along the grass aisle, smiling and waving at the people.

I pause where my best friends, my brothers, are standing and they embrace me and her, congratulating us and wishing us well. When it comes time to hug him though, something inside me starts to ache.

“Congratulations, Kev,” he whispers in my ear, pulling me close to hug and pat me on the back. “I hope you and Kristin are very happy.”

“Thanks, Nick,” I say, returning the hug.

He nods, almost sadly, and steps away from me to turn towards Kristin. I want to say something more to him, but AJ has decided it’s his turn to congratulate me.

“Way to go, man,” he says. “I knew you’d be the first to tie the knot. How does it feel?”

“Great, AJ,” I answer, even though, at the moment I don’t feel so great.

Kristin takes my hand and we continue on our way. I watch as she smiles happily and thanks everyone for coming. I watch as her eyes practically glow, realizing I used to see that same glow in Nick’s eyes.

We hurry to the limo that will take us to the reception. Kristin hugs me and asks if I regret getting married. I wonder where this question came from.

Regret? I ask. Why would I regret it?

She shrugs and tells me she just wants me to be happy. I assure her that I am. She seems satisfied with my answer and cuddles closer to me.

As I sit in the limo, with Kristin beside me, my mind starts to drift back to when I first noticed the light in Nick’s eyes. It wasn’t long after I’d first met him. He would sometimes come to me when he was homesick or had troubles with his mother, and I would hold him until the hurt went away. He seemed to look up to me, and not just because he was several inches shorter than me. No, it was something else. That light would be there whenever he’d focus those beautiful blue eyes on me, and I came to love it as much as I loved him.

It’s not like I had never entertained the thought of being with him. Actually, I had, several times. But I didn’t think it would have worked between us and came up with plenty of reasons why. The age difference was too great, I was too stubborn, I wanted to get married, he didn’t want me, the public would never accept us, etc, etc.

I had never asked him if he had feelings towards me, but I sensed them. There was an incident a few months ago that I remember clearly. It was just us at a hotel one night, and I could feel the tension in the air. I know he wanted to tell me something. I know I wanted him to tell me something.

Only it didn’t happen. We kept our mouths shut and went on with our lives. I now wonder if that was the right thing to do.

The limo stops and Kristin tugs at my arm to get me to move. I follow her inside the building, barely taking in the decorations or the enormous cake set up in the corner. Cheers erupt as we enter, and Kristin smiles and waves like the beautiful bride she is.

My eyes scan the crowd, looking for him. He wouldn’t not come, would he? Finally, I spot him. He’s at the bar, downing a drink. He catches my eye and raises his glass in my direction.

The meal itself is a blur to me. I don’t see anyone, or hear what’s being said. I must be responding all right though, no one is questioning me about where my mind is. I excuse myself from Kristin and her parents, and go off in search of Nick. I have to look into his eyes and see up close if what I’m feeling is true.

He’s still at the bar. Has he left it at all tonight?

“Nick,” I say, reaching out to touch him.

He faces me and I know the smile on his face is fake.

“’Sup, Kev?” he asks.

I say nothing. I just stare into those ocean blue orbs that have haunted my dreams. He frowns at me.

“What the hell are you looking for?” he asks, frowning a little.

“The light. I’m looking for the light,” I answer helplessly, still not seeing it.

“What light?”

“The light that used to be in your eyes. What happened to it?”

He snorts and sets his empty glass on the bar.

“You’re imagining things, Kev,” he tells me, picking imaginary lint off his suit jacket.

“No, I’m not. Nick. . . “

He waits for me to finish.

“I’m. . .sorry,” I say lamely.

“So am I.”

“Wh-what happened between us?” I ask, barely raising my voice above a whisper.

Nick shrugs and crosses his arms across his chest. “Nothing. Nothing ever happened between us.”

Maybe that’s the problem, I think.

“You should really be happy now, man,” he continues. “You’ve got the pretty wife and you can go off now and have your white picket fence and the 2.5 kids and the dog. It’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?”

He’s practically accusing me of wanting the perfect life. Yes, I admit, I do.

Do, or did? Do you still want it now, Kevin? Or do you want something else? my mind screams.

He laughs, interrupting my thoughts. “God, you don’t even know anymore, do you?”

“What else would I want?” I ask, wondering how he’ll answer.

He pauses, studying me carefully.

“That’s for you to decide,” he finally says. “And it looks like you have.” He jerks his head in Kristin’s direction. “She’s waiting for you.”

I look at Kristin, my wife, and see her waving at me to come back.

“Nick, are you going to be okay?” I ask, not wanting to leave him alone.

“I’ll be fine,” he says. “I’ve survived so far, haven’t I?”

I don’t know what else to say so I slowly turn to go join Kristin again.

“I’ll always love you, Kevin,” Nick whispers suddenly, causing me to freeze. He’s told me he loves me plenty of times over the years, but always in a brotherly way, never like this. Not with this much hurt and emotion in his voice.

My mouth goes dry as I hear these words. I swallow several times and force myself to face him once more.

I see the shine of unshed tears glistening in his eyes and say, “I’ll always love you, too.”

He nods and wipes a hand over his face, brushing away any sign of wetness. Then he asks the bartender for another drink.

As I walk back to Kristin and her family, I realize too late that I’ve made a terrible mistake.