Arthur makes his way down the stairs of the cathedral accommodation, ending up in the hallway that connects the ceremony room from the outside world.

He stands slap bang in the centre, head swinging from left to right, from door to door, unsure of which way to go.

He chooses a door and hastily opens it.

The August sun is aggressive on Arthur's face. The rays assaulting his senses, his skin warming up instantly.

With a deep breath, he exits the building, eyes immediately met with the stunning array of colours adorning the cathedral gardens.

He steps out, finding his way along the path until he ends up at a bench, surrounded by pretty yellow sunflowers.

"I think you're lost."

Arthur's head snaps upwards, looking for the source of the sound.

Stood above him, figure blacked out, and blocking out the sun, is the unmistakable silhouette of his mother, Alexandra.

"Just... taking a moment." Arthur says with an unconvincing smile.

"No, you're not. You're getting cold feet." Alexandra guesses, with a raised eyebrow, settling down next to her son.

Arthur says nothing, just presses his lips into a flat line and staring down at his fiddling hands. Something about his mother transports him back to his childhood, when he hung off her every word, and she was the only authority in his life.

"I'm going to say something now... do with it what you will." Alexandra says, leaning back on the bench and fixing her dress.

"Okay." Arthur nods.

"You don't want this. That's quite obvious." Alexandra starts with a displeased look, "You'd much rather be with Grace. But from what I understand, she let you go."

Arthur frowns at that. He should tell his mother the truth, that Grace wants him back. She's probably already at the airport, waiting for him to arrive.

He opens his mouth, but Alexandra holds up a manicured hand, stopping him in his tracks.

"She let you go, so that you could do this. It's very sad and unfortunate that things have gone this way, but this is the way they've gone." Alexandra pouts, "It upsets me too, Arthur. I hate seeing you go through this. But I'm trying to look out for your future. Right now, you're allowed to be emotional; you've just lost your great love. I'm going to be strong for the both of us, all you have to do is get up on that altar and do what you need to."

"But, Mum-"

"I'm proud of you, Arthur." Alexandra smiles, gripping his hand, "I really am. You've become such an intelligent, caring, sensible young man. I know you'll do the right thing."

As his mother stands, and pats him on the shoulder, Arthur's head drops, and he sighs heavily.

He came out here to clear his mind, but now he feels like his head is full of cotton balls.

He stands up, running a nervous hand down his waistcoat, smoothing it down. Then, he paces a couple of times, rattling his brain for a decision.

"Shit." He hisses, frustratedly, "Shit. Shit. Shit."

A loud bong sounds, and Arthur immediately recognises it as the ringing of church bells. It's 1pm. His wedding has officially started.

"Sir!" Foster calls from the back entrance of Westminster Abbey, "Sir! Miss Simpson will be here any minute! Please get back inside!"

Arthur gulps, and turns his head towards to his butler and gives him a polite smile, "Uh, yes, Foster, thank you. I'll be right there."

With one last sigh, Arthur turns himself completely and makes his way to the door. The decision still hasn't been made, but he's running out of time. Fast.

He'll have to wing it.

Slowly, tentatively, Arthur walks down the corridor to the two huge oak doors leading to the altar of the church. In most weddings the groom would have to walk down the aisle to get to the altar, but considering it takes about five minutes to get down the aisle at the iconic Westminster Abbey, Arthur had opted to take the shortcut round the back.

"Are you ready, Sir?" Foster asks, hand circling the handle of the door.

Arthur looks at the older man gratefully, "No. But thank you, Foster, for being there for me anyway."

"No problem, Sir. I love my job." Foster says with humility, "Would you like to take a minute?"

Arthur shakes his head, "I think I've run out of minutes, don't you?"

"Very well, Sir." Foster nods, then he pulls down the handle, pausing to look at Arthur, "Here goes."

And suddenly Arthur is met by the waiting eyes of almost 2000 people.

He gives them a shy, awkward smile that would most likely be endearing to the general public, then makes his way up to the altar, where Rich is stood dutifully, along with his little brother Henry.

"You made it then?" Rich jokes with a cheeky smirk.

"Grace sent me a note." Arthur whispers under his breath.

"She what?" Rich hisses with wide eyes, but he schools his expression as soon as he makes it, "What sort of note?"

"The sort of note that makes me think she's waiting for me somewhere far away from here." Arthur says under his breath, with his back to the crowd.

"Well, I can tell you for certain that that's not true."

"What? How?"

"Because I'm looking right at her, mate." Richard tells him, head gesturing to a pew a few rows back.

Arthur swivels around as fast as he can without looking strange.

Sure enough, sat in the middle of a pew, looking like an angel, is Grace Roberts, in all of her glory.

Arthur's jaw drops momentarily, and he is suddenly breathless as he looks into Grace's brown eyes.

She stares right back at him, mouth moving, speaking to Elina who is sat next to her.

They both look beautiful, like two graceful swans in a pond full of average ducks.

Arthur doesn't have time to let his shock settle, because Will appears, like a giant, stepping across the row of people to sit next to his two friends.

Then suddenly, the doors to the church swing open, and the fifty strong choir begins their melodic tune.

And in walks Rebecca, looking every bit the princess that the media has painted her to be.

As a friend, who loves her, Arthur must admit, she looks wonderful. And if he weren't at the end of this aisle, his heart would be bursting with pride watching her walk down it.

He takes a deep breath and tries to display a smile, but only manages a slight twitch of his lips.

The five minutes it takes for Bex to walk down the aisle may as well be five hours with the way Arthur's heart is hammering. He tries his very hardest to focus on his bride. It's the least he can do, considering this is the worst possible situation for the both of them, and they're in this together.

Bex mimics her friend's expression, with a sigh and awkward smile, then she scans the room, nervously, from left to right. Arthur can pinpoint the exact moment that she notices their two friends... (lovers?) sat in the pews.

Rebecca's expression morphs into one of utter shock, and for a split second, she falters in step, but the choirs loud singing seems to keep her in line. As she walks down the aisle, she passes the row that Elina and Grace occupy, and though her entire body is telling her to look, just look at her, her mind forces her head to stay completely still.

She cannot say the same for her face though, which is displaying a look of pure chaos, and is perfectly reflected in Arthur's expression.

She silently questions him, mouthing as discretely as she can, "What are they doing here?"

Arthur only manages a hopeless shrug of his shoulders as he watches Bex's father, Stewart, lead her up the steps to the altar, and kiss her cheek tenderly.

Once Bex is finally delivered to Arthur, she turns to him and gives him a smile of solidarity, then turns away from him, looking at the priest.

The priest begins to recite the basic script of all weddings, 'Dearly beloved...' and the rest, but both Rebecca and Arthur's minds are far from the ceremony.

"You invited them?" Bex says as quietly as she can, somehow able to move her mouth a minimal amount.

"I didn't expect them to actually come." Arthur defends himself with an uncomfortable frown.

"Well, they did." Bex rolls her eyes, more out of frustration than anger, "How are we supposed to go through with this when they're only behind us? I was barely holding on when I thought she miles away, but now she's right there."

"Trust me, Bex, you are not alone."

The ceremony drones on for another twenty minutes, and the priest somehow comes up with new and inventive ways to describe the 'undying love' between the bride and groom. It just rubs salt in the wounds because every description of said love brings up the image of Grace's face in forefront of Arthur's mind.

He can't stop thinking about her. And she's sat there just yards away with a plane ticket in her bag.

I can't do this.

The priest turns his attention to Arthur and Bex, who until now had been closed for business, on holiday within their own heads.

"Arthur, Rebecca, now is the time for you to make a declaration of your love for each other, in the eyes of your family, friends, and Almighty God."

Screw God, Arthur thinks ruefully, if this is His doing, I'll uppercut Him myself.

"If I could have the rings?" The priest requests, looking over to the ring-bearer, Arthur's little cousin, Thomas, "Right, Arthur, if you can take the ring, hold your bride's hand, and repeat after me."

It seems simple enough, but even doing that is like pulling teeth for Arthur. Bex stares at him, giving him a loaded look, as if to say, are you sure you can do this?

Arthur looks back at her with the same intensity, and tries to communicate back, can you?

The priest starts to speak, and Arthur almost misses what he says, but manages to piece together what he's meant to repeat,

"I, Arthur James Edward Louis, take you, Rebecca Sarah, to be my lawful wedded wife."

Arthur mind races at the words. I can't do this.

"To have and to hold, from this day forward." The priest continues.

"To have and to hold, from this day forward." Arthur repeats quickly. I can't do this.

"for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer,"

"for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer," I can't do this.

"in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish"

"in sickness and in health, t-to love... and to cherish" I can't do this.

"till death do us part,"

"till...death do us part," I can't do this.

"I hereby pledge myself to you."

"I...can't do this." Arthur whispers to himself, barely audible. And Rebecca turns her head towards him, having heard every word.

"Um..." The priest tries again, "I hereby pledge myself to you."

"I can't do this." Arthur says louder, so that at least those on the altar can hear him clearly. His heart had been pledged to another long before this day, and he is not one to break his vows.

"Arthur?" Henry, his brother, leans past Rich, who is stood perfectly still next to his cousin, stoic and protective. He knows exactly where this is going.

"Arthur," Henry tries again, "Are you alright?"

Arthur snaps out of his thoughts to look at his younger brother. He takes in the brown hair, a few shades lighter than his own, and falling just onto his shoulders in gorgeous waves. He takes in the striking hazel eyes that he had inherited from their mother, and the slim, sharp jaw that she had passed onto him also. The boy is beautiful, pure, and innocent, only 17... He has a world of heartbreak ahead of him.

"Henry." Arthur says seriously, turning completely to face his brother, much to the confusion of the priest, "When you find love... Don't wait this long to accept it. Take it with both hands, and run with it, far from this life if you have to."

Henry, though slightly baffled and very worried for his brother's mental state, nods, and lets his hands be taken and squeezed by Arthur's larger ones.

Then, Arthur turns again, back to Rebecca, who was stood behind him, waiting patiently for him to confirm her suspicions.

"Bex." He says, grabbing the tall girl's hands and kissing them affectionately, "I think you know what I'm about to do."

"I think so to." Rebecca says knowingly, with a soft, encouraging smile on her face, "And if you don't do it... I will."

"You should be with her. You belong with her."

"I was about to say the same thing." His bride... former bride, squeezes his fingers, giving him a long, meaningful look, which says a lot of comforting things, but most importantly, it's okay.

"It's getting awkward now, bro." Rich interrupts with a tap on Arthur's shoulder, "If you're gonna make a run for it, I suggest you do it now, before the situation is completely irredeemable."

Arthur snorts quietly and turns his head slightly to respond to his best friend, "I think we're well past that."

"Well, then get on with it. Put me out of my misery, this tux is suffocating my balls."

Arthur grins and collects himself, turning to the wedding guests in the pews and straightening his own tuxedo.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I..." Arthur trails off, struggling to find the right words. His eyes drift to the left side of the room where Grace is sat, face the picture of confusion, of hope.

"I...I can't do this. I can't sit here, and make a vow to you all, to my family, to God, when I don't intend to keep it." He rambles before he even realises what he's saying, "Rebecca is the most wonderful human being I know, but I won't pledge my heart to her knowing that it will never be available. She deserves to be someone's everything, and unfortunately, she isn't mine... She isn't my light, or my salvation... or my Sunshine."

At the last word, his eyes find Grace's again, and she fixes him with an emotional look, which spurs him on. He takes one last look at Rebecca, who nods at him, giving him the 'it's okay' look once more, and he turns back to the crowd, sheepish.

"I'm sorry for wasting your time, but... I can't do this." He says, then he steps down from the altar, and exits the room quickly, and quietly, through the back door.