"I love you Mickey"

Part 20

Klas's pov:

Two months elapsed, and Mickey and I continued to drift apart, our communication severed. Despite my longing to meet him, the constraints held me back. My mother, aware of the connection, advised me to maintain distance. She didn't harbor hatred for Mickey, but she recognized the danger he posed and sought to shield me.

During breakfast, the chef had prepared an array of dishes, yet I found solace in just three pieces of pancakes adorned with chocolate syrup, accompanied by apple slices and refreshing orange juice. Amidst discussions about daily life and my father's previous day at work, our tranquility was shattered by the maid's announcement-an unfamiliar man sought an audience with my father. Described as a tattooed figure with short blond hair, it was none other than Mickey.

Beseeching my father to accompany me, we opted to face the visitor together, with my mother joining. Upon opening the door, Mickey stood before us-pale, visibly leaner, yet exuding a rugged handsomeness. A warm smile graced his face as he greeted us, and my father ushered him inside. The living room fell into a hushed silence, with the maid diligently arranging a coffee for Mickey on the table.

"So, what brings you here, Mickey?" my father inquired. "I just, uh, want to tell you guys that, uh, you're invited to my wedding with Natalie," he said, shattering my heart. The man I loved came to my house, informing me that I was invited to his wedding with another girl, not me.

"Oh," my mother sighed, her tone reflecting sadness as she glanced at me, sensing my distress. "Congratulations, Mickey, and of course, we will come!" my father declared, patting Mickey's shoulder. Mickey smiled, but a tinge of sadness lingered in his expression.

"It's tomorrow, 11 in the morning at Andy's bar near the field, you guys know?" he asked, and my father nodded. "Do you need our help with anything, Mickey?" my mother asked, holding my hand as I trembled.

"No, thanks, but I'm okay. I just need you guys to come," he replied, and my parents nodded, offering warm smiles.

Mickey left, leaving me seething with anger. Determined to thwart the impending wedding, convinced it was coerced by his father, I paced the room, grappling for ideas. Grabbing a pen and paper, sprawled on my stomach on the bed, I began to sketch out my plan. Just then, my mother walked in, and I quickly sat up, offering a strained smile. Taking a seat on the edge of my bed, she asked softly, "Are you okay, dear?"

I nodded, confessing, "I don't want Mickey to be with someone else." Her touch on my cheek was gentle, but her smile held a trace of sadness. The warmth faded as she noticed the paper on my bed. Panic set in-I had forgotten to hide it, and now my mother had discovered my intentions. Taking the paper, she read it, her expression subtly shifting to a frown.

"Klas," she began, raising her eyebrows, and I attempted an innocent smile. "You're not doing it, son. It's not nice," she admonished, and my expression turned melancholy.

"My dear, I understand the pain you're experiencing after the breakup, but seeking revenge or attempting to ruin Mickey's wedding won't bring lasting peace," she continued. "It's crucial to prioritize your healing and growth. True strength lies in letting go, allowing both you and Mickey to move forward with new chapters in your lives."

I frowned, disheartened. "Life has a way of surprising us, and I believe that brighter days are ahead for you. Choose the path of empathy and self-discovery, my son," she concluded, and I nodded, absorbing her wisdom with a heavy heart.

Mickey's pov:

The wedding day arrived, and exhaustion weighed heavily on me. Reluctantly, I faced the reality that my father insisted I marry Natalie, the bearer of the child I was supposedly the father of. Donning a suit, I opted to forgo a tie, unsure of how to knot it. In that moment, Max entered and offered his assistance.

"Are you ready, Mick?" he inquired. I nodded, tears streaming down my cheeks. "I wanted Klas, Max, please," I cried. Max gently wiped away my tears and, holding my face, locked eyes with me.

"Mickey, you son of a bitch, you know you're going to marry Klas, alright? One day, I'll be there. I promise to stand by your side, to confront whatever obstacles hinder you from marrying Klas. But for now, let's proceed with this," he reassured, a comforting smile on his face. I nodded, gaze dropping. "Let's go now," he urged, guiding me forward into the moment I never wanted but felt compelled to face.

Upon our arrival at the bar, the chosen wedding venue, I drew in a deep breath and entered the bustling scene. Amongst the gathering were mostly my father's friends, notably underdressed, and Anthony, Mary, and my beloved, Klas. Their elegant attire set them apart in the crowd. Stepping towards the makeshift aisle, I took my position, with Max accompanying me as my best man.

After a few nerve-racking minutes, the moment arrived, and there she was-my bride, Natalie. Despite my internal resistance, I couldn't deny her beauty in the wedding gown, clutching a bouquet of flowers. As she made her way down the aisle, my gaze was fixed not on her but on Klas. His eyes bore traces of recent tears, a profound sadness etched across his face, shattering my heart. Natalie stood before me, and I took her hands in mine, steeling myself for the vows.

With a habitual brow scratch, a nervous tic I couldn't suppress, I prepared to speak my vows, all the while unable to shake the haunting image of Klas's pained expression from my mind.

"Well, here goes nothing. Look, I never thought I'd be standing here, saying all this mushy stuff, but life's full of fucking surprises, right? So, here it is - I, against all odds, take you as my partner in crime. Yeah, I know, it sounds like a line from a fucking cheesy rom-com, but bear with me. I fucking promise to tolerate your quirks, even when they annoy the fuck out of me, and I guess I'll try not to be a complete jerk about it. In this weird twist of fate, you're stuck with me, and, well, I suppose I'm stuck with you too. Let's make the best of it, and maybe, just maybe, we'll figure out how to do this marriage thing without killing each other. Cheers to us, I guess."

Natalie simply nodded in response to my vow, then took a deep breath, poised to articulate hers. "In this unexpected journey, I'm here with you because of some tricky circumstances. I promise to be kind and patient as we figure out this whole parenthood and marriage thing. Let's try to make the best of it for our growing family, even though it's not what we planned." she uttered in a single breath, leaving me to offer an awkward nod in return.

We exchanged rings, she presenting me with her late grandmother's cherished ring, while I, unable to afford one, got her a stolen ring. The notion of spending money on a ring seemed inconceivable. As the officiant declared us husband and wife, prompting us to seal the union with a kiss, I glanced around. Catching Mary's reassuring nod, I smiled in gratitude before pressing my lips to my bride's. It wasn't a kiss infused with romance; no trace of love was embedded within the gesture.

The festivities commenced promptly after the ceremony's conclusion. Natalie disappeared to an unknown location, and I harbored no inclination to inquire. Joining Anthony and Mary, they extended their congratulations, to which I expressed gratitude. Inquiring about Klas's whereabouts, Mary gestured towards the outdoors. I excused myself and ventured outside, discovering Klas smoking in solitude.

"I didn't know you were a smoker," I remarked, approaching him as he startled, tossing the cigarette aside. Attempting a lighthearted tone, he greeted me, "Hey, Mr. Married Man," but the undertone was melancholic, his feigned happiness evident. "It's for the kid, you understand that too, right? Look at the bump," I pointed out, gazing at him, though he avoided meeting my eyes. He sighed, walking back inside without a backward glance, leaving a palpable sense of unresolved tension in the air.

Klas's pov:

I re-entered the venue, purposefully avoiding Mickey, and observed my parents engaged in conversation with Natalie, who appeared genuinely content. Understandably so - marrying Mickey was undoubtedly a source of joy. My attention was drawn to the noticeable baby bump, indicating the child was likely in its sixth or seventh month of development.

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