Page 2 of Branson's Promise

My mum came back into the room then, her perfume reaching my nose before her warm, loving arms draped over my shoulder. Wetness landed on my shirt as she cried silently with me.

“Why?” I asked, lifting my head as she stepped back. I wiped at the dampness on my cheeks as a bolt of anger hit me, and I clenched my hands into fists. “Why can’t the doctors help him?” I wasn’t a child, I was seventeen. I knew how cancer worked. I knew it wasn’t as simple as cutting it out or destroying it with medicine. I knew that sometimes, there wasn’t anything anyone could do to stop its complete and total devastation of the body.

But that knowledge, and all I knew about the disease left my thoughts and was replaced by fury. White hot and irrational. I was angry - at the disease, at the doctors, and at my father for giving up.

That thought made my breath hitch because it wasn’t a fair thought. He wasn’t giving up; he had tried everything he could to fight this. Dragging the chair forward, I rested my head against my father’s chest. His breathing was laboured, and his heartbeat was a faint whisper beneath his breaths

“I wish that was possible.” Mum’s words were quiet as she rested a hand on my shoulder, and I knew, in that instant, that this would be our last moment together as a family. Why my dad? Why this amazing man, who worked hard and loved harder? Who never said a bad thing about anyone. Who helped those who needed it, who smiled endlessly and who put his family first in everything he did. Life was so unfair sometimes. I couldn’t help him as much as I wished I could. But I could give him this. And I would.

“Thank you for the letter. And for everything you’ve given me. I promise dad, I promise all those things you asked of me.” Closing my eyes, I breathed in his scent, committing it to memory. Though it was now different to the one I remembered - no longer spicy and peppery like his favourite cologne - it was still him. Still my dad.

It was shortly after midnight, six hours after I returned from the hospice, when a shrill ringing woke me. My stomach sank. I knew what news that ring would deliver and the soft whimpers from my mother’s room opposite confirmed my thought. He was gone.

I’d made my dad a promise and I had no intention of breaking it.

I would follow all my dreams.

Live a life full of wonder and adventure.

Fall in love and be happy.

Chapter 1

Branson

Take chances. Some risks are worth it. If you fall, get back up again, but don't forget what made you trip. Learn from it then move on.

If someone were to ask me how I felt about my best friend getting married, the first word out of my mouth would be ‘happy’ or ‘thrilled’ because I was. What they wouldn’t hear from me was the deeper, darker, bitter emotion that hit me everytime I saw August and the love of his life, Caleb, together - jealousy. Because it’s pretty shitty to be envious of your friends and at almost twenty seven years old, I knew and understood that everyone’s lives moved at different paces and in different directions. That didn’t stop the aching pang at knowing he had what I’d been searching for: someone to love me - wholly and completely. Someone to call me theirs.

Instead, I've had endless bad dates, no shows and passion filled nights that died a sudden death as soon as the sun rose. I have worn my heart on my sleeve, out there and in view for all to see, and yet no one has taken the opportunity to care one bit about it or about me.

Case in point, the awful date I had a few nights before I left New York to attend the wedding in London. The guy had been so into me over messenger in the days leading up to the date. We bonded over our love of yoga, sports and travelling and when he finally suggested we meet at a sports bar downtown, I was hopelessly optimistic.

On arriving, he’d looked me over from head to toe as though he was assessing a car he might buy before gesturing to a high top table. Twenty minutes into our date, fifteen of which he spent checking out the man at the table next to us, it was clear that the night was going no further. He hadn’t even been shocked or remotely disappointed when I’d said I was leaving.

As I looked myself over in the mirror, straightening my bowtie and adjusting my cuffs, I was critical of what I saw, trying to discern what it was about me that made men walk away so quickly. I was not tall but also not short - I guess you could say average height - my blonde hair, though bordering on brown, was shaggy in a messy yet stylish way and my body was lean and toned. Not small but not overly muscular either. I took good care of how I looked, working out when I could, playing sports, doingyoga and eating well. Maybe my eyes were a little dull, the blue looking lacklustre at the moment. But that couldn’t be it.

Bloody hell, why was it proving so hard to find someone to love me, to care for me, to pamper me a bit? Maybe I was just genuinely unlovable.

I shrugged the thought away, not wanting to be all gloomy on this important day and reminding myself of the same thing I did every time I felt this way -you are perfect, amazing, wonderful.

Reaching for the pink rose on the side table, the one to be pinned to my suit jacket, I gazed in the mirror again just in time to catch sight of my bestie exiting the bathroom. He looked handsome in his dark grey suit and I noticed that the smile he wore reached his eyes and came with an air of confidence that told me he had no hesitation over taking this step.

“You look great, Auggie Bear. Caleb is going to cry, I am sure of it.” Happiness bloomed in my chest at the look on his face. August had been through so much to get to this point.

“Thanks Bran, you’re not looking too shabby yourself,” he replied while rustling my hair. I batted his hand away, chuckling at his antics and then strode into the now unoccupied bathroom to finish getting myself ready for the wedding. As Best Man - or one of them - I had a very important role to play and I was taking it seriously. I would have us both at the end of that aisle on time and I would do it looking well groomed and like I had my shit put together.

“That went well.” I felt the heat of a body at my back before the words hit my ears and I knew instinctively who it was. Turning, I took a step back and let my eyes roam over the tall expanse of man before me. Noel Bennett - hotel mogul, owner of this hotel and plenty of others across the world - and my co-bestman. The guy was hot, cocky, and though a bit of an ass, he was surprisingly not as self absorbed as he came across. We’d gotten to know each other over the last couple of weeks as we helped plan this wedding - though every interaction to date had been solely focused on wedding prep and always when others were around.

“It did, they both look really happy.” My eyes trailed over to where Caleb and August were standing arm in arm talking to some of the wedding guests. My best friend was laughing and I don’t think I’d ever seen him happier. “And your speech didn’t suck, so I’d call that a success.”

Noel feigned a hurt expression while I laughed, thinking back to the day we’d sat down to write our speeches together.

“Are you going for embarrassing or romantic and emotional?” Noel asked, while my fingers were poised over the keyboard. Truth be told, I had planned to be a little sappy, though knowing August would probably hate that, I planned to throw in the odd story from our past that I knew would warrant a laugh or two.

“A bit of both, I think, you?”

Noel laughed, a sly grin pulling up the side of his lip. “Embarrassing, I’m going to make Caleb turn a pretty shade of pink.”

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