Yeah, Copper really, really wasn't going to ask about it.

Truth be told, he hadn't thought about it once when he had been planning the proposal. He had been far too caught up thinking about her, and how to make it special, and worrying what he'd do if she did, for some reason, say no. In the days since, though, he had begun to wonder how much Isabela thought about that last engagement, and whether it was now dredged up from wherever she had buried it.

Copper waited quietly for her to speak, letting Isabela voice each choked word. She wouldn't look at him, but he didn't need to see her expression to know how she was feeling. There was nothing he could do about what had happened before, Copper knew that. But at least he could do something about this.

"It's our wedding, Isabela." He said gently, ducking as head as if it would help him meet her gaze. "I want to be involved, but I want it to be what you want, too. I want you to be happy. That's pretty much all I ever want."

"That's...why. I think that's why I'm upset. Or...not upset. Crying." She laughed a little at herself, pressing the napkin to her warm cheek. Her other hand squeezed his.

"I just...I am angry that...this isn't as novel as it should be and I feel guilty because you deserve to do this with someone who hasn't done this before and who...who's worried, that--"

That you won't be there at the end of it all.

"That it is already ruined. I know it's stupid and I know you--you aren't like that but...I..." She shook her head a little. "I'm sorry. You don't deserve this."

And even if she had been engaged before… well, Copper wondered how much wedding planning she’d ever actually done. Had she gone shopping for weddings rings, or had they been picked out for her? Had she gone cake tasting, or had a pastry chef already been hired? He doubted that her last experience would be anything like this.

“Isabela,” Copper said, but this time a smile curved his lips, brightening his tone just a little bit. “You could’ve done it ten times over and I wouldn’t care. This is our first time getting married. It’s still new.”

Maybe she had done some of it before, but they had never done it together. It would be different for her this time, and entirely new for him. Of that, Copper was sure.

Teasing a little now, he added, “And even if it isn’t, I think you’re a good enough actress to pretend it is, and let me have my moment.”

Time off was a rare and valuable thing for any healthcare worker, and it should be kept as sacred; that was the preaching that Copper's mother had always practiced, anyway. Copper didn't much mind how he spent his days off, but he wasn't very good at sitting still or doing nothing. Hence why he had so many hobbies.

But he had found something new to fill his time, starting today: helping Tod fix up the farm, ready to go on the market. Copper wasn't thinking about that last part just yet - he was just focusing on the fixing up. With Isabela away for work, Copper had an entire day free, and as he made his way up the driveway to Crosshatch Cottage, he had a feeling he was going to be there all day too.

Squeaks meowed a few quick chirps and Tod bent down to scoop him up, scratching him behind the ears. It was nice to have something to do with his hands. Tod was nervous. He'd been nervous all morning, pacing about and disturbing the girls (the chickens) with his anxious energy.

It felt like...Tod didn't know what. Krish had never been to his house before. And not just this house. Back in York too. If they went anywhere, they went to Krish's. Tod's house was strictly off limits.

Something about it felt irreversible, like if Krish stepped over the threshold, he'd be wrenching open the doors of Tod's heart. Though, he'd probably be more gentle about it than Tod felt.

"Er, come on in, then." Tod turned and held the screen door open with his shoulders so Krish could enter the house.

Tod had cleaned with all that nervous energy of his so there were no dishes to be spotted in the sink and his textbooks were neatly stacked on one end of the coffee table in the living room. Walking over to the kitchen, he absent-mindedly set the cat down on the counter.

"Do you wanna eat first?"

He just hadn’t figured Tod to be the type to look after them all. Copper had never had any pets growing up; his mum had said she was too busy, but Copper knew that in reality, she didn’t really like animals in the house. He couldn’t remember if Tod’d had any pets, but he would’ve bet good money on the answer being no. Whilst he had never been in the house, it just didn’t seem like the type of home for it.

Copper smiled as he headed inside, the greasy bag of takeaway food still clutched in his hand. It was cleaner than he’d expected a house that was being renovated to be, but maybe Tod had done some sprucing up for company.

“Up to you, really.” Copper shrugged. “We can always reheat them later if you want to get started straight away. Or we could have them now and you can tell me what needs doing, so we can form a game plan. That might be a better idea.” Not only because he was sort of hungry.

The problem was: Isabela hardly knew herself.

In this moment, the thing that was wrong was the fact that she was crying at all. She was messing all of this, before it could even begin. Why did this keep happening to her? Isabela had never cried in front of another partner before.

She was not someone who cried in general. From a young age, Isabela had learned that you caught more flies with honey, so she always had a smile and a beautiful flower for everyone.

For some reason, Copper always pressed on the bruises around Isabela's heart that she hadn't even realized were there. On wounds that she had thought had healed, but that he cracked open, breaking like a bone needing set. Like pruning the leaves off a plant so that it could grow.

The thing was: Isabela was crying because she was relieved. With each shuddering, trembling breath, her lungs somehow felt more clear. She felt at once so certain and unsteady. It was a confusing swirl of emotions. Isabela, standing over the edge of a cliff, but too afraid to jump. Always too afraid.

"No, I--it's--I'm sorry," she said. One of her hands slipped from her cheek and turned her hand, breaking Copper's hold on her wrist, but she just twisted so that she could hold Copper's, setting their entwined hands on the table between them.

It was quiet for a minute more as Isabela tried to regain some semblance of her composure.

"I'm sorry," she finally said again, quietly. "I just...I keep thinking about..." Clayton. Her heart choked on the word.

The silence drifted in again. She could feel Copper's thumb stroking the back of her hand, like he was coaxing the words out of her. Her gaze stared resolutely down at her placemat. Isabela did not want to talk about that horrible last time she'd been planning a wedding. Not just because she didn't want to remind Copper she had almost been married once before (though, that was a large part of it.) It clawed at her chest that none of this was new to her.

She wished she could erase that time from her life completely.

"When I...did this before...I didn't...none of it was...really mine. And I just...I guess I'm realizing...I feel so stupid for thinking--that you might do it that way or that...it was the right way to do things. I don't know."

Yeah, Copper really, really wasn't going to ask about it.

Truth be told, he hadn't thought about it once when he had been planning the proposal. He had been far too caught up thinking about her, and how to make it special, and worrying what he'd do if she did, for some reason, say no. In the days since, though, he had begun to wonder how much Isabela thought about that last engagement, and whether it was now dredged up from wherever she had buried it.

Copper waited quietly for her to speak, letting Isabela voice each choked word. She wouldn't look at him, but he didn't need to see her expression to know how she was feeling. There was nothing he could do about what had happened before, Copper knew that. But at least he could do something about this.

"It's our wedding, Isabela." He said gently, ducking as head as if it would help him meet her gaze. "I want to be involved, but I want it to be what you want, too. I want you to be happy. That's pretty much all I ever want."

Isabela's smile flickered, just briefly. If only because...well, Clayton's family had been involved in all the details. They were the details. Everything had to be agreed upon. Negotiated. And not negotiated. There had been strict rules and Isabela had dutifully fallen in line.

It had been exhausting.

That was what wedding planning was to her: exhausting. Humiliating.

And Copper saying he wanted a say in everything filled her with anxiety. If she was any other bride, she would be ecstatic that her partner wanted to be involved. That he showed an interest. But Isabela only worried that it would cause conflict. That he said that but really it would be his mother and Isabela would be erased.

And then, Copper said he wanted bright colors for the wedding.

Isabela started to cry, dropping her fork and lifting her hands to her face. "I-I'm sorry," she hiccuped into her hands. "I'm sorry." She pressed the heels of her wrists into her eyes to try and stop the tears. "I think that...bright colors would--would be really lovely."

She kept crying.

"Isabela?" He said, his fork clattering against the crockery as he abandoned it, his hand reaching across the table towards her. He put his hand on Isabela's arm, not pulling it away from her face but merely touching her, letting her know he was there.

Copper honestly couldn't say what had caused it. At first he wondered if maybe he had said entirely the wrong thing and she did want pastels and she was crying because he had already inadvertently ruined the wedding. But then she agreed with him, causing the frown on Copper's face to deepen, brows knitting together as he tried to figure out what was wrong.

He rubbed his thumb back and forward in small crescent moons over the smooth skin by her wrist. "What's wrong? Talk to me, darling."

Time off was a rare and valuable thing for any healthcare worker, and it should be kept as sacred; that was the preaching that Copper's mother had always practiced, anyway. Copper didn't much mind how he spent his days off, but he wasn't very good at sitting still or doing nothing. Hence why he had so many hobbies.

But he had found something new to fill his time, starting today: helping Tod fix up the farm, ready to go on the market. Copper wasn't thinking about that last part just yet - he was just focusing on the fixing up. With Isabela away for work, Copper had an entire day free, and as he made his way up the driveway to Crosshatch Cottage, he had a feeling he was going to be there all day too.

Copper had been trying to go to the run club more regularly. It helped that his shifts had sort of aligned quite well, allowing him to at least head out for a bit in the morning even if he had to go back to bed to get ready for night shift afterwards. It also helped that he was no longer just running alone as part of the pack; Copper had made himself a friend.

Well, he supposed really that Isabela had made a friend and Copper had mooched off of the mutual acquaintance but hey, it didn’t matter so much now. He and Shang had ran alongside one another for the last couple of runs and now, as they reached the end of the route, Copper sat down on a bench beside Shang to stop and have a drink.

Oh, nothing, except that fact that Isabela already felt nearly a decade to late to the most important part of her life. She had expected to have children by the time she was out of university. And then, after the coup, she had given herself a generous two years--until she was twenty-five.

Now, she was thirty and not even married. Wouldn't even be married until she was thirty-one, most likely. Or close to it.

She felt antsy. She wanted a plethora of children and there wasn't much time for her to have them.

And she knew that wasn't supposed to be the point of getting married. It wasn't. But it was also a hurdle that had to happen in order for children to happen too.

So, yes, there was a rush.

Besides, she just--wanted to be married. And she wanted to marry Copper. She was anxious and excited and about five hundred other emotions all at once.

"One every year sounds fabulous until we run out of color palettes and everyone gets sick of us," Isabela said, smiling and taking another bite. "Speaking of: do you have any feelings on that kind of thing? Color palettes? How much--I mean...how much do you want to be involved in those kinds of details? I know lots of guys don't like that. I'm happy to do most of it, if you'd like."

Whilst Copper wanted Isabela to be happy more than anything (which likely meant he would concede the point on anything he didn’t feel too strongly about), he was also excited about the whole thing. Sure, he’d go to town hall and sign the registry tomorrow if he thought Isabela would ever in a million years allow it, but he’d still have fun looking around the boutiques in town for a suit before they went.

“I want to be involved in all the details.” He said, before tilting his head. “Well — not your dress, obviously. But all the rest of it.”

Copper wanted taste wedding cake samples and pick out flowers and decide on ribbons to decorate the pews with. He wanted to help decide what they’d serve at the reception and what their first dance would be and how they’d get from the cathedral to the party. It was all so incredibly exciting — and anyways, Copper was really hoping to only ever do this once, so he didn’t want to miss out on anything.

“If we’re having a spring wedding then we should do something bright, don’t you think? Stay away from the pastels. Might be too Easter-y.”

She...hadn't considered two weddings. And she certainly hadn't considered not having a Christian wedding first. Something squirmed in her stomach, a guilt that was familiar to her. A tug of doubt. Not about marrying Copper, not really, but just...about--

Well, she didn't really know.

Maybe it would be a good thing, she thought, to not have a Christian wedding first. There were so many parts of that ceremony that was ruined for her. She had done it all: the bachelorette party, choosing a dress, the Psalms that would be read, the homilies that were sung...

The only thing she hadn't done was walk down the aisle. Say the words.

But would it count?

Of course it would count legally and functionally and maybe even culturally...but would it count to God?

"We could maybe do Spring," Isabela said, avoiding making a decision at the moment. "Holi is too early to do something here first and I'm not so sure about Dwali, that feels like it'd be far away from whatever wedding we have here but...you should talk to your family and see what works best for your grandparents. We can work around that, yeah? Plus, I have no idea how long it takes to plan an Indian wedding--is eight months even enough time?"

What he wanted, more than anything, was for Isabela to be happy. Copper hadn't really known her back when she had been engaged to Clayton, but of course he had heard all about it. Everyone had heard all about it. He couldn't imagine how all of that must have felt, and so, as he had been with all of their relationship, he was happy enough to take things at her pace.

"You might be right." He said, smiling ruefully. "Although don't underestimate my mum and my aunties. They could probably have three days worth of ceremonies organised in about a week."

Maybe less than that, if they really put their mind to it and didn't argue once. But that wasn't exactly the point.

"I'll talk to everyone, see what they think. But, I mean, I don't think there's any rush for it either way. Who says we can't have another wedding six months after the first one? Who says we can't have ten weddings? Or one every year? It's our wedding." He reminded her with a smile. "We can do whatever we want."

His shoulders dropped, though, at Krish's words.

Even though they were what Tod wanted to hear, he wasn't exactly sure what to do with them. They hadn't been friends for nearly fifteen years. Except in Tod's head, where he still talked to Krish sometimes. Whenever there was something he wanted to show him. Or a song that reminded him of him.

It was a strange thing, then, to have it straight from the horse's mouth (or, dog's mouth, ha.)

"Okay, well, good," Tod said, still feeling a little out of his depth. It had been a long time since he'd had a friend like Krish. In fact, he never had before and he couldn't remember how to fit back into the body of the kid he'd once been. Even if he desperately wanted to.

He reached out and clapped Krish on the shoulder. Even if what he really wanted to do was hug him.

"We should probably head back to work."

The hand on his shoulder felt warm, but somehow lacking. Copper thought about grabbing his arm, pulling him closer until he could hug him tightly, as tight as he had at Pearl's funeral. But it didn't feel quite right. Not the right moment, maybe. Or maybe it was the two of them who weren't quite right for it just yet.

Anyway, Tod was probably right. They probably should head back inside, and whilst they wouldn't pretend this conversation hadn't happened, Copper was sure it would go somewhere by the wayside. They would simply adapt to a new normal - one where they were friends. Maybe not in the way they had been before, but friends all the same.

"Yeah." Copper agreed. he stood up straight, brushing his hair back from his face as he began to walk - slowly - towards the A&E doors. "Y'know -- if you want help with the farmhouse... I really don't mind pitching in."

"My mum'll gladly help you out with the planning." He said. "I mean I will too, obviously, but-- mum's probably already got a moodboard, or something. She'll definitely have a menu, maybe some fabric picked out for her lehenga."

Maybe two weddings would be intense, but Copper did think it was a nice idea. Of course her family would be welcome at the wedding in India, too - he had only really thought about having a ceremony there to include his family who couldn't travel (and maybe because he had been to so many weddings at his grandparents' house that it only made sense that he have his own there, too), not to exclude anyone.

"I guess there's no rush to have them both at the same time." He said thoughtfully. "We could have the wedding here first-- next spring, I'm guessing." Because he could not, under any circumstances, imagine Isabela wanting a winter wedding. "And then look to India after. We could even do it after the honeymoon, or something."

She took a bite of her food finally, her anxiety having defrosted some.

"Which one would you like to do first? When is Holi next year? Or--I mean, I don't want to put your family on the spot if that's a...holiday thing and I dunno, maybe Gita wouldn't really appreciate us copying her and maybe it's too soon," Isabela all said in a rush.

"I had been thinking about May so...because I don't want to do April, but February and March are probably too cold here and June is Prom, so I don't want to do that--and July...seems too long. I don't know. I suppose we, uh, didn't really discuss a timeline..."

They hadn't been dating long, but Copper had just said next spring...and Isabela was eager to get married. Eager to start a family. And start feeling like--her life hadn't gotten away from her.

None of that was helpful when it came to wedding planning, though.

He was glad they were on the same page, seemingly. Copper didn’t see any reason to wait — if they could plan a wedding by next spring, then why not get married next spring? Maybe they hadn’t been dating that long, but they had known each other for longer. If he really thought back, Copper had known that there was no one else for him before they had made it official.

“I don’t really mind which one we do first,” Copper said after another forkful of pasta. “Holi’s the 23rd of March. But the rainy season starts over there from June, so I suppose it’s either before May or— maybe October time? Diwali’ll be at the end of October, so the family’ll be back at my nanabapa’s again.”

Isabela's eyebrows sprung up.

She hadn't considered that. Though, to be fair, she hadn't had much time to! The last few days had been a swirl of emotions that she was, frankly, still trying to sort out. When she'd thought of her wedding, it had always been a very Christian affair. A white dress. Her great-grandmother's mantilla. Dancing until the early hours of the morning...

But, after having been to Copper's cousin's wedding, she had seen the beauty in that celebration too. And she had thought--maybe they'd do something with haldi. Or mehndi, she wouldn't mind wearing that for her wedding in England--

She hadn't thought about two completely separate weddings. In her mind, Copper's family would come to England but now that she actually thought about that, she realized how impractical it was. And she did, very much, want Copper's family there to celebrate with them.

"Two weddings," Isabela repeated, feeling equal parts giddy and overwhelmed.

"I mean--I'd never say no to a wedding." She smiled. That was their thing, after all, wasn't it? There were so many weddings that had brought them together over the years. And now, they would be adding their own to the list of happy couples they'd celebrated.

"Also, just--I'd probably need a lot of help planning...not that I think your cousins wouldn't jump at the opportunity. I won't really know what I am doing. But yes, of course. It's important we celebrate with your family too. We will just have to give our feet enough time to rest in between."

"My mum'll gladly help you out with the planning." He said. "I mean I will too, obviously, but-- mum's probably already got a moodboard, or something. She'll definitely have a menu, maybe some fabric picked out for her lehenga."

Maybe two weddings would be intense, but Copper did think it was a nice idea. Of course her family would be welcome at the wedding in India, too - he had only really thought about having a ceremony there to include his family who couldn't travel (and maybe because he had been to so many weddings at his grandparents' house that it only made sense that he have his own there, too), not to exclude anyone.

"I guess there's no rush to have them both at the same time." He said thoughtfully. "We could have the wedding here first-- next spring, I'm guessing." Because he could not, under any circumstances, imagine Isabela wanting a winter wedding. "And then look to India after. We could even do it after the honeymoon, or something."

And he did feel pissed off. He wanted to shove Krish again. Wanted to knock him to the ground and wrestle the way they used to when they were kids. Neither of them had never been particularly violent, but they were still boys. They'd liked to rough house every now and then, playfully. But maybe there was something to the kind of men who could knock the shit out of each other and then get back up laughing.

Maybe that was a better way to solve problems than to talk about it. Tod hated talking. He wasn't good at it. There weren't many people in his life who'd ever stuck around long enough to hear him out.

"You're the one who has a life here now. A house? A damn fiancee? Congratulations, by the way," he said, somewhat sarcastically, the wound of not having known before still smarting. "My granny is dead and I had no reason to stay. Not until you showed back up, but--even then, I mean--you've got a life. My life it's back in London. It was. I-I don't know. This shit is so fucking stupid."

Tod ran a hand over his face. "Do you wanna be friends again or not? Because this back and forth shit is stupid as fuck."

And of course Copper had a life. What else was he supposed to do? Sit by the front door and wait for Tod to hopefully, one day, come back to him? Copper had thought he might find him in Swynlake, and then he hadn't - he hadn't known if he was ever going to see him again. So yes, he had made a life for himself here. Maybe at first he had stayed in the vain hope of one day bumping into Tod on the street, but he liked Swynlake. He liked the town and the people and the places within it. He had made his peace with Tod having a life for himself elsewhere, and had built one for himself.

The question made him deflate, sagging back against the wall as if Tod had shoved him again, this time hard enough to mean it. It made Copper remember when they were younger, not quite kids and not quite teenagers, running into one another in the alley behind their houses. Copper stared at Tod, realising after a moment that he was looking for any trace of him, the best friend he'd had before.

It was a stupid question, really. Because Copper didn't much care if he could see that boy in Tod's face or not. "Of course I want to be your friend." He said. The words were much softer than he had meant them to be, barely filling the space between them. "I'll always want to be your friend." And then, for good measure, "Idiot."

They were best friends. When they were kids. When things had been somehow both easier and harder, when everything had felt so serious and they'd clung to each other to keep from drowning.

They were adults now. Grown men. And they had grown into themselves apart, somehow, when once, Tod hadn't been able to imagine it. And maybe he'd grown up crooked, too much like his mother--always running like she was being hunted. Tod had always felt the same way. He had her wild spirit, no matter how much he tried to keep it small and quiet.

Which only made the accusation sting more.

Came here for him? Tod doubted it. Why would he--

And why hadn't he--

There were about a million holes he could poke in the statement, but it was the second part that wounded. Being accused of leaving, again. As if he had a choice...

"Well, you didn't try very hard did you?" Tod scoffed, tears suddenly in the back of his throat as he lifted his hand to rub over his face. He didn't want to think about what that meant. If Krish had come looking for him, what could've happened if he'd allowed himself to be found...things could have been so different...

"Why would I stay? I have nothing here but bad memories. Everyone leaves me first!" he shouted, but his voice cracked pathetically.

He had meant to reply in kind, loud and brash and angry. But the words came out hoarse, more of a croak than a yell, his throat feeling too tight, choked up with years worth of things he wished he could’ve said to Tod.

But it was the truth. Copper hadn’t left Tod first. He knew that it wasn’t his choice to leave, but he had left all the same, leaving Copper behind. He had waited, at first. Like Hachiko at the train station, standing in the same spot, eyes fixed on where Tod might return. But of course he was never coming back — not to visit, not to stay a little while, not for anything.

And Copper had tried to live a life without him but look where he had wound up. In Swynlake, Tod’s last known whereabouts, except that he wasn’t there, either. He had left before Copper had even arrived and this time there was no chasing him. He wouldn’t even have known where to start.

“I didn’t.” Copper repeated, voice surer this time because it was true. He had never left Tod, not once, but he had been left behind so many times. “But what’s the point, Tod? I waited for you at home and I waited for you here and all you can think about is leaving again, so what’s the point in acknowledging everything when it obviously doesn’t mean anything to you?”

The words came out in a rush, tumbling over each other, so fast that Copper didn’t know where they were going. When he finally had nothing to say he stared at Tod, hands trembling, waiting for a response he wasn’t sure he wanted.