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        Oliver hesitated, holding the envelope addressed to 'Ms. Michaela Pratt' in his hands. He didn't know if he should do this, was this going too far? A voice inside him reassured him that, no, this was completely in line.

        "Babe, it's fine. She's your friend too, not just his. If you really don't want to, then don't, but I promise you, nothing bad will happen." assured his fiance. God, he was doing this, he was getting married to the love of his life, and he wanted the people he loved to see them through this.

        But then again, if the people he loved were to see him through the wedding, wouldn't Connor be there? Shouldn't Connor be there? 

        Oliver dropped the envelope into the pile of ones already addressed with the name and addresses of family and friends. His and Drew's wedding was in three months, and he was feeling the stress head on. Drew, on the other hand, seemed to feel much more confident in his decision, not to say Oliver wasn't, of course. He loved Drew, he really did. Drew made him feel safe and stable, he never cheated on him, and worked a normal amount of hours during the week. Most importantly, Drew didn't keep secrets from him, secrets that could land him in jail.

        Oliver considered inviting the rest of the Keating 5 to the wedding. He did keep in contact with Michaela and occasionally texted Laurel, and he couldn't get rid of Asher even if he wanted too. He liked Wes, he really did, except he never really talked to him. Although, wouldn't it be rude if he invited Michaela and not Laurel and Asher? And if he invited those three, he really should invite Wes. But if he invited four out of the five, should he invite Connor?  

        He hadn't spoken to Connor in around two years, which was when they broke up. No one talks to their ex, it was an unwritten rule and Oliver abided by it. Even if sometimes Oliver wanted someone to reassure him that he wasn't unlovable because of his positive diagnosis, or if he wanted someone who would bring cold takeout from work home, or if he wanted to just be near someone who loved him, Oliver didn't utter a word to him. Inviting him to the wedding would be like a slap in the face to the other man. God knows that of Connor had been in this position and did that to him, he wouldn't think Connor had invited him as a goodwill gesture.

        Oliver wouldn't even know if Connor had been in that position. Connor could be married with kids for all he knew. Would Michaela have told him? She would have gone to the wedding if there was one, definitely. Would Connor even care if Oliver did get married? They both fucked up, Oliver knew that for sure. They kept secrets from each other and their relationship was toxic. 

        Turning to look at Drew, Oliver thought of his love for the man in front of him. He was certainly a looker, and more importantly, he loved Oliver and Oliver loved him. There were no doubts in his mind, this was the man he was meant to marry. He walked over to Drew and sat down on the floor next to him and laid his head down in the other man's lap. Sensing what Oliver wanted him to do, Drew dropped the papers in his hand and carded his hands through his raven hair. 

        "You know, you can invite him."

        Him. Clues weren't needed when they were referring to Connor. Oliver was broken when he met Drew, but in time he fell for the green-eyed man sitting next to him. 

        "I don't- I don't know if that's a good idea. I haven't talked to him in two years, and he probably doesn't want anything to do with me. I don't blame him, of course, you're not supposed to want to be near your exes. Not that I want to necessarily be near him, obviously, that's not what I meant-" Oliver sputtered before gazing up into his fiance's eyes. Drew wasn't mad. Drew never was mad at him for things involving Connor. 

        "Listen, he won't come to the wedding if you don't invite him. I know in that brilliant little mind of yours, you wondered if Michaela would take him as her plus one, but you know she won't. She knows as much as you do that if he came to the wedding uninvited it wouldn't end well. And Oliver, honey, if you invited him I know it would be so you could have closure, which, arguably, is something you both need. But if you don't want him too, by all means, don't. It's your choice." Drew said softly, maintaining eye contact with Oliver the whole time.

        "I- I need time to think about if I want too. I think I'm going to take a nap, it's been a while since I slept. Love you." Oliver ended the conversation and pecked his cheek. He slowly walked to their bedroom and laid down. He knew Drew was fine with Connor being invited and even him attending the wedding. And it's not like it was going to be Oliver trying to win Connor back at the wedding, or Connor trying to get Oliver back.

       Rolling onto his side, he grabbed his phone off of the nightstand. He scrolled through his contact list before landing on the one that read 'Walsh'. Against his better judgment, he proceeded to open a chat with his ex. Breathing in deeply, he typed his question into the phone. 

        How are you? the text read. Oliver stared at the screen for a bit until the message was marked as read. Waiting a few more minutes in case a response came, Oliver was already regretting his decision. When he received no reply, he shut the phone off and closed his eyes.

        I'll deal with this in the morning, he thought.

        "Nope, no one important," Connor said after checking his phone, before resuming to unbutton the shirt of the stranger in front of him, ignoring the tears that wanted to fall out. Oliver didn't get to do this, not now.         

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        The morning greeted Oliver with a throbbing headache, and much to Oliver's disappointement, it wasn't because he was hungover. No, he thought, being drunk last night would explain why I did that last night. He turned over and saw Drew laying next to him. Smiling, Oliver pressed a soft kiss to the other man's cheek and got out of the bed. Heading over to the bathroom, he grabbed an aspirin out of the medicine cabinet and walked to the kitchen, ready to start breakfast.

        "Shit", he muttered before jogging back into the shared bedroom to get his phone from the nightstand. He waited til he got to the kitchen to check to see if he had any messages, which, unsurprisingly, he didn't. Oliver put his phone on the edge of the countertop before opening the fridge to get started on breakfast. It was Saturday, which meant french toast for the both of them. By the time he was finished with the food, Drew had woken up and was watching the other man put away the ingredients.

       "Hey babe, how did you sleep? You were out like a light when I joined you." Drew remarked, eyeing the food Oliver set out.

       "Not a bad night overall, I'd say. What about you? You didn't stay up too late, right?" Oliver replied, before carrying both plates to the table where Drew was sitting. He knew he should tell him about the text, it wasn't like Oliver was trying to hook up with Connor or anything. And besides, he knew how fast lies could destroy a relationship, thinking back to the Stanford letter. God, he messed up when he did that.

        "You okay? You spaced out for a second." Drew questioned, looking concerned.

        Oliver nodded. "Oh, what? Yeah, no, I'm fine, really." After hesitating a bit, he added, "Listen, I've got to tell you about something that happened last night. Nothing bad, I promise."

        "Wanna tell me now, or in a bit? You look flustered, babe, are you sure you're okay?" Drew said. He was concerned for Oliver, he knew the man was stressed out about planning the wedding and was rarely getting a full night of sleep.

        "Really, I'm fine. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that-" Oliver started, but was interrupted by his phone buzzing in his pocket. He brought his finger up to signal to Drew that he would finish the story in a minute ad brought his phone up out of his pocket. His jaw almost dropped when he saw the name on his screen, Walsh. 

        Fuck, he thought. Of course this is when Connor would call, he was probably fucking some guy when I texted him last night.

        Excusing himself, Oliver stood up from the table and went into the bathroom. Shakily picking up the phone, he braced himself for the upcoming conversating. 

        "No. No! No! You don't get to do this, not now. Especially not now." Connor's words were jumbled and rushed, but his tone was definite. He wasn't having any of this.

        Oliver's heart leaped into his throat. Of course he was pissed, everyone in that situation would be. "Let me explain, Connor. I know this isn't the best time, but I thought you should know. I- I'm getting married, and-"

        He was cut off and met with a bitter laugh on the other line. "Of course, of-fucking-course. You're getting married! Great! What do you want, for me to ask my niece be the flower girl at the wedding? Sorry, but you stopped being Uncle Oliver a while ago." Connor's voice was sharp and final. This was the end of the conversation if he could help it.

        "Look, Connor, I just wanted to let you know because I invited Michaela, Laurel, Wes, and Asher to the wedding. There are no hard feelings, right? I mean, if you wanted to, you can even come to the wedding." Oliver explained calmly. They could be adults about this, he needed them to be adults about this.

        "No hard feelings? No hard feelings? Really, Oliver, you can't just ignore a guy for two years and then invite him to your wedding, especially if he's your fucking ex. Bye, Ollie." Connor said with a huff before quickly cutting the call.

        Ollie. He said Ollie. He hadn't been called that in two years; when Drew had called him that playfully for the first (and last) time, Oliver had said that the name makes him uncomfortable. It wasn't a lie, really, anything that reminded him of the life he had with Connor did make him antsy. Sighing, he returned to Drew. There were thoughts nagging at the back of his head, ranging from how Connor's niece was doing to how Connor himself was doing.

        "Everything alright? It wasn't about your dad, right? I know ever since the heart attack you've been on edge about that." Drew said, clasping Oliver's hands in his. 

        Tensely smiling, Oliver replied. "No, it wasn't about Dad. I'll tell you after we eat, okay?" 

        Drew looked confused but didn't object. He trusted Oliver.

        Connor shakily sat down. Oliver was getting married. Oliver was getting fucking married! He wasn't surprised, though, Oliver was amazing. But inviting him to the wedding? That was too much, really. Sighing, he opened the bottle of whiskey on the table and texted Michaela. Today was going to hurt like a bitch.

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        "Really, babe, it's 10:30 in the morning! On Saturday! Sleep in a bit, then we can go out to brunch or whatever. Please? I never see you." Asher pleaded to Michaela. It wasn't entirely wrong, however, seeing as Michaela always put her work first and worked incredibly long hours. She was determined to be the damn best in everything she did; it wasn't a bad thing in her eyes.

        (Or Asher's, really, seeing as it kind of turned him on, but that's a story for another day.)

        "Listen, Connor texted and he seems drunk, judging by his spelling of things. You don't think he found out about the wedding, do you?" Michaela asked him, widening her eyes when she realized that Asher could've easily told Connor about Oliver being engaged.

        "God, no! Even I'm not that much a dick." he blurted out, but she could tell that he wasn't lying. Asher was right, even he wouldn't do that.

        "Okay, okay, I believe you. But I should still head over there and make sure he's okay. Don't want him drinking himself to death, after all." She got up from the shared bed and changed into a casual outfit. Or, at least, casual for Michaela. 

        When she arrived at Connor's apartment, she let herself in using the key Connor had given her in case there was an emergency. She was secretly grateful she still had it, even though she really hadn't had to use it recently. Walking in slowly and peeking around the corners as if the man was hiding and waiting to scare her, Michaela spotted Connor's shirt laying haphazardly on the countertop. God, she hoped he wasn't hooking up with someone right now.

        "Connor? You there?" she said aloud, hoping for a response. She didn't fancy the idea of a drunken Connor roaming around town without a shirt, really.

        "Yeah, 'm here." came a voice from the bathroom. She got into the small bathroom to find a completely wasted Connor sitting on the toilet with the lid down. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was disheveled. Honestly, he looked like he crawled out of a sewer.

        "Connor, what are you doing? It's 10 in the morning, god." Michaela said as she slowly eased the small cup holding the whiskey out of his hands. 

        "Ollie's getting married! 'e's getting married and you knew and-" he slurred his words and glared accusingly at her. "He tex'ed me. Said I should know 'e's getting married. Like I care! Even invited me, the jackass." 

        "He what? Texted you? To tell you he was getting married?" she asked him. If that was true, she was going to kill Oliver. 

        "Yeah, and then I called him because I wanted to hear s'voice. That's dumb. His voice is dumb. His ass is dumb." His words were jumbled and he sounded like a four-year-old, but Michaela could tell that he was hurt. His eyes were drooping and he seemed incredibly tired. Groaning, Connor took his head in his hands and shut his eyes. He looked like he was either going to star crying or screaming, and she wasn't looking forward to wither of those options.

        "I'm going to get you some water, and then we're getting you to bed, okay?" she said gently, before leaving the small room. When she returned with a cup of water as promised, she took in Connor's appearance fully. He had under eye circles that suggested a very restless night of sleep, and his face was extremely pale. 

        She had decided to stay for a bit to see when Connor would wake up, and then maybe take him back to her apartment. After she had sent Connor off to bed, Michaela took her phone out of her purse and texted Oliver. 'Are you out of your mind??', the text read. She didn't have to wait long for a response, however, seeing as the other man was asking to FaceTime only two minutes after she sent the message. Quietly sneaking into Connor's bedroom, she saw a pair of earbuds on top of his drawer and plugged them into her phone. Answering the phone when she was far enough away from Connor's bedroom, she saw Oliver's concerned face and knew that he knew exactly what she was furious about.

        "I-I can explain. See, I was going to invite the rest of you, you know, Laurel, Asher, and Wes, and I figured he would find out about the wedding then, because you all would know, and it would've been easy for it to slip out..." Oliver's voice trailed off as he realized where Michaela was seated. "Are you at Connor's?" he asked somewhat accusingly.

        "Yes, I am, but only to make sure he didn't drink himself to death." Michaela snapped. She loved Oliver, she really did, but he had to have known that this wouldn't have been a good choice.

        "What? He's drinking? What about the addiction? He can't just do that, he's going to relapse soon. Michaela, you have to watch him closely for a bit now. Please." the shock on his face was evident. Connor had relapsed in his addiction because of him? God, he was such a shitty person.

        "When I got here, he was completely wasted. He slurred his words... and he, he talked about you."

        "I texted him last night, I didn't call him, he called me, and even though that doesn't make this any better, I never meant to hurt him. You got to believe me on that." His tone had gone softer and he genuinely seemed sorry about starting all of this.

        "I know, Oliver. You're too nice for your own good, really. I mean, you invited him for fuck's sake." Michaela had intended it to come out as a joke, but there was still an edge to her voice. She had seen how badly the news had affected Connor, and even though she knew Oliver hadn't meant for any of this to happen, she was still mad at him.

       "God, please don't remind me. I sounded like such an ass, now that I think about it." Oliver groaned and slapped his hand over his face. He knew he was going to regret texting Connor.

        "Michaela? What the fuck are you doing?" Connor demanded. Shit. He had gotten up because the light from the indow insisted on streaming in and hitting him right in the face, and he had then heard Michaela talking to someone. 

        He seemed to have immediately sobered up when he noticed that it was Oliver on the other end of the line. Michaela and Oliver both froze, and she cursed in her head. She hadn't thought to close the blinds, which was surprising, seeing as she thought of everything, honestly. 

        Pulling one earbud out, Michaela turned around to see a fuming Connor. "Why are you awake?" she had said, because she wasn't sure what else there was to say.

        "Oh, hey, Ollie." Connor said bitterly, ignoring Michaela's question.

        "I'll just hang up now, sorry." Oliver told Michaela and she gave a slight nod to show that she understood. But, right before he could end the FaceTime, he heard Connor's voice again.

        "Oh, what, he's just going to hang up now? Running away from problems- our problems- as usual, I guess." Connor let out a strained laugh. He knew what he was saying wasn't true, really. When they were together, Connor had been the one to run away from all their talks. 

        "It's fine, Connor, really. Just go back to bed and we can talk about this when you wake up. Unless you want to have lunch now, seeing that you're up." Michaela was being rational about this. While Connor had every right to be upset, he knew that she and Oliver had remained friends. 

        "Get out."

        "What, no, listen, we can talk about this and I'll explain. You can come to my apartment if you want." Michaela offered, hoping he would accept. While all of this was happening, Michaela's phone had slightly angled itself to face Connor when she had turned around to address the man.

        "Out. Now." 

        "Call me when you need me. Oh wait, you always do, seeing as I'm the only competent one around here." she grabbed her purse and abruptly ended the FaceTime call when she remembered it was still going on.

        For the first time in his life, Oliver was happy that his wifi was acting up; after all, that meant that no one could see the tears streaming down his face.  

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        "Oliver, babe, you ready? We have to get going, otherwise, we'll miss the show." Drew called, scanning the apartment for signs of his future husband. When he hadn't heard a response, he assumed Oliver was in the bathroom, seeing as the other man never replied when he was doing his business. Sighing, Drew walked over to the kitchen countertop and flipped through the small stacks of mail. When he came across four addressed envelopes, stamped and ready to go, he grinned. So, Oliver had decided to invite Michaela, Asher, Laurel, and Wes. It was a good thing in his opinion, he had always liked them. His thoughts were interrupted, however, when he heard his fiancee walking into the room.

        Dressed in a ratty old shirt and loose gray sweatpants, Oliver was certainly not ready to go to the movies. Drew was about to ask him why he wasn't ready, when he noticed the tear tracks on the other man's face. Shit, he thought, that's what Oliver was doing, crying.

        Enveloping Oliver in a hug, Drew planted a quick kiss to his forehead. "Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong? Is it something with the wedding?" Drew asked, his eyes wide, concern lacing his voice.

        "No, it's not that. It's, um, about him." Oliver blurted out, hiding his hands behind his back.

        "Did he say something to you? To Michaela? I'll go talk to her, or him, or whoever you want me too but-" Drew was talking fast, his words rushed but he didn't sound angry.

        "He doesn't want to come to the wedding."

        "You, you asked him? When?" Drew questioned, knitting his eyebrows together.

        "I texted him last night, and he hates me. I don't blame him, really," Oliver started, tears forming in his eyes again. Drew reached over and caressed his cheek.

        "Babe, I'm sorry. I know, I know you wanted to end it with him on good terms," Drew stared at the man in front of him. His strong, tan arms were wiping tears off his cheeks, and the image broke Drew's heart. He knew Oliver loved him, there was no doubt about that. It was obvious, how could he not know when only he got to see those genuinely happy smiles Oliver gave him every morning? It was a look of complete, genuine love, so no, Drew didn't feel threatened. He thought there wasn't any need to be: he loved Oliver and Oliver loved him. 

Oliver wasn't a fragile person. He went through his fair share of ups and downs, but he survived them all, mainly on his own. He didn't have emotional breakdowns in front of people if he could help it, and he definitely didn't cry over people who used to be in his life. He was fine, he was content, he was good. Or, at least, that's what he assumes. 

        Connor shivered, cursing himself for not bringing his jacket with him. He was going to do this, wasn't he? Bracing himself, he walked into the familiar apartment building and turned to the lobby. "Excuse me," he said politely, "where is Oliver Hampton's apartment?"