"Where's Wes?" Esther asked the moment Miriam stepped foot in the restaurant. It was to be expected at some point in the evening, Miriam just didn't think it would be the first thing her sister would say to her. Instead, she was expecting a hi, hello, how are you, anything that didn't place him at the centre of her universe.

Still now the question was out there, Miriam had bigger things to worry about then her sister's lack of pleasantries. Namely, whether or not she should tell the truth. The urge to lie was certainly there, pressing heavy on her conscious. Maybe if she were more adept at lying to Esther, she would've, but since she was one of the few people in the world who knew everything there was to know about Miriam, she stamped out the desire to lie and said, "We're not really talking at the moment."

"You and Wes?" Esther asked. When Miriam nodded and she followed up with, "Why?"

"It's a long story," Miriam said, "but he basically found out about the—"

"Revenge scheme?" Esther guessed, wincing slightly.

"Yeah." Miriam forced her mouth into a steady line. "The revenge scheme."

"How did he find out?" she asked.

"Doesn't matter," Miriam said with a soft smile. "But we're not talking, and he won't be here tonight. I hope that doesn't like ruin any of your plans."

"It's alright." Esther squeezed her shoulder. "I didn't tell anyone he was coming," she said. "It'll be like he was never supposed to be here in the first place." She then looped her arm through Miriam's and led her through the restaurant, up the stairs and into a private room near the back.

The room was dark, lit by rows of tealight candles which flickered each time someone so much as breathed and a gold candelabra that dangled above the long mahogany table and cast haunting shadows across the pristine settings. Miriam noted her parents who were standing with Darren's, her father gesticulating in broad strokes while her mother barely hid her boredom behind a taut smile. Joanna was stood just behind with Darren's younger sister, the two giggling at something on Joanna's phone. The rest of the room was filled with Esther and Darren's friends.

"Miriam," her mother cheered the moment she spotted her. "Finally, I thought you weren't going to make it."

"I wouldn't miss this for the world." Miriam threw an arm around Esther's waist and squeezed, her sister's laughter bringing the first genuine smile of the night to Miriam's face.

"No," her mother said, "of course not. So, where is Wes?" She craned her neck to glance over Miriam's shoulder.

"He won't be coming tonight," Miriam said, shoring up her smile with the knowledge that her mother's disappointment was a given with or without him.

Her face fell nonetheless, wrinkles dragging each and every feature to the ground. "What did you do?" she asked.

"Why do you—"

"Oh look," Esther interrupted with a blistering smile, "there's some people I want to introduce Miriam to."

"Fine." Their mother waved a dismissive hand. "But you and I will talk about this later."

Miriam bit her tongue and let herself be led away. "Who are you introducing me to?" she eventually hissed. "I know everybody here."

Esther's smile merely grew as she deposited Miriam with her oldest friends. "Just stay here," she murmured out of the corner of her mouth. She then floated away, looking appropriately bridal in her off-white jumpsuit, and threw her arms around Darren's neck. His wound around her waist, drawing her closer as he kissed her gently and murmured something against her ear. They laughed and Miriam felt a twinge in her gut. On first thought she feared it was jealousy, a reality she didn't have the stomach to swallow until she realised it was in fact regret. Regret that she ruined her one chance at this.

"So how have you been?" one of Esther's friends asked, her voice startling Miriam to attention.

"Me?" she said. "I've been good. Busy with the last few months of uni, but good."

There were a round of congratulations before the conversation turned back to the topic of the current rental crisis, a crisis which Miriam was reminded several times she had to look forward to when she finally returned to London. She smiled politely and reminded herself that this was far better than her mother's third degree. Then the final guest arrived, and Miriam took comfort in her seat which was too far from her mother to yield any productive conversation and close enough to the door that she could make her get away the moment it became socially acceptable. That is, she took comfort until yet another guest arrived, dishevelled and slightly panting.

Esther jumped out of her seat and threw her arms around Brandon. He hugged her, apologising profusely, then plopped into the seat beside Miriam with about as much grace as a baby hippopotamus. "It's sad," he said once they'd been served the first course, "that this is how we meet again."

Miriam cut a small piece of smoked salmon and popped it into her mouth. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said demurely.

"Come on." He elbowed her gently. "After last weekend I thought you'd be calling non-stop. There was a vibe." He paused, eyes narrowed, then shook his head. "But now I'm looking at you I'm mortified because there wasn't a vibe?"

Miriam closed her eyes, jaw clenched, then cut another piece of salmon. The subtle saltiness helped her focus, string together a sentence that didn't leave her looking like a heartless bitch. "I'm sorry," she said, going to cut a third piece.

"Sorry?" Brandon raised a brow.

"If you felt a vibe," Miriam elaborated. "I wasn't in a place to be giving out vibes."

"I feel like you're trying to tell me something," Brandon laughed, "but I'm not sure what."

Miriam couldn't help but laugh too, then shook her head. "I was seeing someone," she said.

"Ah. So who is the amazing man who stole you out from under me?"

"Doesn't matter."

The pretence dropped for a second and Brandon was suddenly so earnest it sent a shiver down Miriam's spine. In all the times they'd met he'd been many things, but never this. "It wasn't Ade, was it?" he asked.

"God no," Miriam said quickly. "He's not my type."

"Good. I love my brother, but his taste in friends is shit."

"Tell me about it," Miriam muttered to herself, the memories of the slap sending simultaneous spirals of shame and anger shooting through her. She'd never done anything like that, but trust Ade to push her there.

"So, what happened with mystery man?" Brandon asked.

"What do you mean?" Miriam reached for her wine once she'd finished and took a sip, savouring the way it warmed her insides.

"Don't think I missed the way you said was," Brandon winked.

Laughing, Miriam rolled her eyes and placed her glass down. "We're not talking right now," she said.

"Well, his loss is my gain."

"All that flirting's going to get you in some real trouble one of these days."

Winking all over again, Brandon said, "As long as it's not today."

Miriam laughed harder, smothering her giggles within a mouthful of wine just as the door opened. Brandon was leaning in, mouth close to her ear, and Wes was standing there, staring, gaze unreadable. He didn't move, even when Brandon sat back or Miriam's mother hurried to hug him, his arms remaining limp by his side. Once she was returned safely to the table, he gave Miriam one last look then turned to Esther. "I'm so sorry," he apologised, "this was a mistake."

"It—"

"Have a nice evening." He turned abruptly and headed back into the restaurant. Miriam stared after him, open mouthed while he disappeared.

"It was Wes," Brandon eventually said with an almost disbelieving laugh.

"Yeah," Miriam breathed, "it was."

"Well then go after him you idiot."

She turned to Esther who simply nodded, smiling softly. "Go get your man," she said.

"Are you—"

"Go!" Esther and Brandon shouted.

Laughing, Miriam stood and headed the way Wes left, relieved she'd decided on trainers rather than her heeled leather boots. Inevitably, Wes was most certainly not in the pub, leaving Miriam with no choice but to blow through the heavy-set oak doors and tumble onto the street. Without a coat or sleeves for protection, Miriam wrapped her arms around herself, glancing left to right in search of him. On her second sweep, she caught sight of him ducking into a Sainsbury's Local across the street.

Miriam ran through the automatic doors almost bumping into an older couple who scowled at her. She apologised, lest she wanted her already shit karma to worsen, and began jogging towards the first aisle where she bumped directly into Wes. His hands shot out, grabbing her waist to steady her. The moment she stopped swaying he drew back lightning fast and shoved his hands in his pocket.

"What are you doing here?" he muttered beneath his breath. "Shouldn't you be back there flirting with Brandon."

Miriam was both winded and slightly tipsy. That was the only explanation she could come up with for the laughter which sprung forth while she bent over, hands pressed against her knees. When she righted herself, Wes looked far from impressed and simply walked away, forcing her to run all over again.

"I'm sorry," she said, jogging to keep up with his long strides. "But why would you think I was flirting with Brandon?"

Wes stopped abruptly; Miriam's calves thanked him for it. "I saw you two," he said. "Laughing, flirting."

"That was not flirting," Miriam insisted. "I would never—"

"But you have."

Miriam felt like screaming so loud the roof blew off. "Why did you come here?" she asked while Wes grabbed a share bag of M&M's.

"What are you—"

"Why did you come?" she interrupted. "Was it to accuse me of flirting with Brandon? To hold the past against me?"

"No." He shook his head vehemently. "Of course not."

"Then why?"

He stared down at her for a long moment then marched away, heading straight for the self-service check out. "Why did you come?" Miriam asked, hot on his heel.

"It doesn't matter," Wes said while scanning his things.

"It does," Miriam insisted.

He scoffed, collecting his goods, and marched his way out of the shop.

"Come on Wes," Miriam shouted after his retreating figure.

He turned, glaring at her, and told her to stop shouting.

"Make me," she shouted back.

He strode towards her in three quick steps and loomed above. "I came to say I forgive you," he said. "There, you happy?"

"I—but I didn't apologise to Ade."

"I heard everything you said at Ryan's," Wes admitted. "Everybody did. I don't expect you to apologise to that arsehole."

"Are you serious?"

"Of course. He was out of order, and he lied to me, but most importantly he was horrible to you."

Miriam felt her eyes fill with tears. "Thank you," she whispered, arms wrapping around his solid frame. He felt rigid beneath her grip, unyielding, unwilling. Hard enough that she let him go seconds later and wiped her nose with the back of her hand, gaze penetrating the floor in the hope she could dig a hole and disappear into it. All thing considered, if this was all she'd get from him, she was happy. At least now she knew he didn't hate her. "I guess I should be getting back," she said with the biggest smile she could muster.

"Yeah," he nodded. "You should."

With one last look, Miriam headed back to The Albion. Despite returning alone, she nodded when Esther asked if she was alright and brushed off Brandon's hand when it reached for hers. If she cracked, she'd shatter. There'd be nothing graceful about it, no dainty, perfectly formed tears but gut-wrenching sobs, so she focused on the fact that he didn't hate her, not really, and centred herself as best she could in time for the next course.

Bypassing the food, Miriam went for the new wine pairing, gulping it down with no care and savouring only the promise of drunkenness while the party swirled around her. She felt frozen in time, in the realisation that this was as far as she and Wes would ever get. Then he stepped into the room, and she thawed.

Blinking twice, Miriam felt herself strain to check it was really him. But there he was, high cheekbones and all.

"What are you doing here?" she asked with little care for the guests who surrounded her.

"Sorry," Wes apologised, glancing at Esther and Darren who both simply waved a hand.

"Go ahead," Esther added, gesturing to Miriam.

Wes audibly gulped as he stepped into the room. "You forgot something," he said, eyes widening a fraction.

"I did?" Miriam glanced at Esther who was smiling so hard it helped melt some of her fears.

"Yeah." Wes licked his lips. "Me."

"What are you—"

"Yes, you hurt me, and embarrassed me, and all around destroyed me. But you also build me up and make laugh and these past few days without you have been hell."

Beside her, Miriam heard the faint sound of a chair scraping, but it wasn't until Wes was sitting down that she realised Brandon had moved.

"Point being," Wes said, grabbing her hands. "I don't want to know what it means to be without you ever again. So, if you'll say yes, I'd love to start over."

"What about Ade?" Miriam murmured. If she knew anything, it was that she couldn't have him hanging over her.

"Fuck Ade," Esther hollered much to their mother and Miriam's astonishment.

"You don't even know—"

"Just say yes," Esther shouted. "Yes, yes, yes."

Everyone joined the chant, some of Darren's friends going so far as to bang the table. Even her mother nodded, eyes glistening, mouth curling ever so slightly.

"Say yes," Wes whispered.

"I-yes."

Hands clasping her cheeks, Wes kissed her gently, lips moulding together like two pieces of a single jigsaw. "You won't regret it," he murmured as the group cheered around them.

She nodded and leaned forward to kiss him again. Of course she wouldn't regret it. How could she when it was him? For if she knew anything, it was always going to be him. 

***

Please vote, comment and share.

Misslaughalot_

xxx