#... i'm sorry

Olive giggling at what was surely an awful joke from Dougie, practically glowing with joy.

Croz holding his wife close, looking down at her as if he can’t quite believe she’s real.

Rosie, barely audible as he whisks Jo around the floor, teasing her about if he’ll be replaced as cookie taste tester this year, too.

An emerald sparkling on Val’s hand, matching the joyful gleam in her eyes as Blakely pulls her impossibly closer, leaning down to whisper something in her ear that has her smile growing three sizes.

Brady listening, enthralled, as Juliet chatters animatedly in his arms, undoubtedly continuing their earlier discussion about… well, he wasn’t quite sure to be honest. John had confided that he wasn’t either, but “my girl’s so smart, Benny,” he’d said, eyes wide with wonder, and Benny knew that he’d be happy to listen to Juliet ramble for the rest of his life.

The ache in Benny’s chest grows, and so does the dark cloud hanging over him that’s been his constant companion since he’d returned stateside as he watches his friends, feeling the distinct lack of someone to sweep into his arms and onto the dance floor.

Any girl would be happy to dance with him, he knew. A soldier, a returning war hero— he could see quite a few young ladies eyeing him as they had been since they’d arrived, having noticed that he was the only one of their little gang to enter without a girl on his arm. He wouldn’t have been opposed— getting to be the dashing soldier to whisk a wallflower onto the dance floor and give her a night she wouldn’t forget, who didn’t want that?— but as nice as that would’ve been, it wasn’t going to ease the persistent longing in his heart..

Benny wanted the connections his friends had; the love that only came with knowing you wanted to spend the rest of your life with that person. He wanted to watch someone walk down the aisle to him, carry her over the threshold of their white picket fence home where they’d raise a gaggle of children and eventually grow old and gray and happy together.

He thought he’d had that before. Hell, he thought he’d had that with Olive before he’d realized the Brit was more like a little sister to him than anything.

But where did that leave him now? Sat alone in a corner, looking wistfully over the dance floor while his friends were looking forward to finally starting their lives together.

He takes a long drink, hoping the burn of the whiskey will ease— or at least distract him from— the pain lingering in his chest. 

Who’d want him?

That voice in the back of his mind that had only grown louder since he’d arrived home wasn’t afraid to speak his fears aloud.

He’d be sought out for a dance or two, but beyond that? A girlfriend, a future wife, a life? Would anyone be willing to deal with everything he’d bring with him into a relationship— Bremen, the Stalag, the whole damn war itself? Not anyone that hadn’t known him before, like Jules with Brady, Jo with Rosie, Jean with Croz, but he was sadly bereft of convenient female childhood friends. Anyone who’d been in the thick of it with him was out of the question; Olive certainly was, as was Val, and even Tatty and Helen had paired off already.

He was alone.

Until he dealt with his demons and made himself a suitable life partner for some unlucky girl— which, let’s face it, was going to take more time than he cared to estimate— he’d be alone. The lost eleventh wheel tagging along after his friends, drifting off to the sidelines for every slow song that played.

The darkness grows deeper around him as he considers that potential future…

Until he’s jolted back to reality to the sound of polite applause as the song winds to a close, and he forces a smile as his friends make their way back to the corner of the room.

They settle back into their seats— a steady seating pattern of boy-girl boy-girl around the table until Benny interrupts, nestled between Olive and Blakely— and as Dougie leans over to ask Juliet something, Olive sees her chance.

“You okay, Benny?”

“Of course, Ol,” Benny grins easily, the shadow over his face falling away so quickly she thinks she must have imagined it. “Just thinking about Meatball— I hope my ma’s not feeding him too much, he’s gonna get spoiled.”

A collective good-natured groan rises from the table.

“Quit it with the dog, DeMarco!”

“We all love him but please come up with new topics, we’re begging ya.”

“Just bring him to the wedding, why don’t ya, Benny. It’s alright, we’ve accepted he’s your plus one for life.”