thinking about robby exchanging vows at the altar, telling his soon to be wife how nobody else in the world could make him as happy as he is with her.
his best friend and best man is beside him. jack’s smiling, focused on the ceremony, but his hand is warm and firm between dennis’ shoulder blades.
dennis leans into it and lets the touch ground him. his eyes lock on trinity in the crowd, who looks back at him like she wants to pick him up, throw him over her shoulder, and set fire to the place as she runs out with him. instead she just nods as if to say “you’re doing great. almost done.”
he puts on his best smile and holds himself together. through the kiss, through the photos, through the dinner and all.
robby’s wife mentions dennis briefly in a speech, how he’s like a son to robby, how she hopes they can be close. like family. it isn’t even her words that shatter him, it’s the look on robby’s face. the light in his eyes, the warmth in his cheeks, the smile that seems unending.
he gives the most polite gratitude he can muster and excuses himself through the crowd, only breaking down once he’s outside of the venue and out of sight.
he cries for the first time in months, so hard that he throws up in the bushes. trinity isn’t far behind him, rubbing his back while she calls for a ride. dennis airs everything out. says everything that’s been unsaid for years between soft broken sobs. how much he loves robby, how he can never be his son, how he thinks he’s being punished by god, how he should have stayed in theology, how small, selfish, naive, and filthy he feels. trinity just listens, feeling it all with him.
jack follows after a while, handing trinity an unopened bottle of whiskey.
“I’ll make your excuses if he asks.”
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