Flora's birthday was the Friday the week after mine.

I did not want to attend her party, but I also knew it would be far too weird if I didn't. Even though I had never particularly liked her, I had always gone to her parties. And with me and Alasdair being back to normal, then it would be even weirder if I didn't attend his girlfriend's birthday party.

I had tried to get to work that evening. It was an alright excuse to get out of it. But all that had ended with was me getting the early shift. That meant I would be off work at about nine. The party would still be well on its way.

It was at the church proving the priest's clear hypocrisy loudly. He damned people like Airlia and Alasdair for that their father had left. Damned people like me because of who we loved. But he had no problem allowing his daughter to host her birthday party with plenty of alcohol inside the church. He would damn the whole thing, though, if anyone decided to get frisky.

Such a lovely man with so many different standards you needed a whole Bible for them.

As I had expected, the party was in full swing when I arrived and from the sheer volume, I could tell they had already had plenty to drink.

Like I always did, my eyes searched for Alasdair, and when I made him out, I walked straight to him. He sat by the altar with a whisky in one hand and the other resting on Flora's leg. I ignored his hands and focused on his face, which burst into a wide grin the second he saw me. He stood, left Flora's side to meet me half-way up the altar.

"Ye're finally here!" he exclaimed and gave me a quick, drunk hug.

"Hey, Errol, glad ye could make it," Flora, who had followed Alasdair, said.

"Happy birthday," I told her and handed over my present to her. A bottle of alcohol, as was my standard gift for everyone except Airlia and Alasdair.

"Can ye put this one with the other gifts, sweetie?" Flora asked Alasdair and handed him the bottle. "An' I need a new drink."

"Aye," Alasdair answered and kissed her cheek before following the orders.

All my muscles had tightened watching the exchange, and I had to remind myself over and over that neither of them actually was to blame for how I felt. Sure, I didn't think Flora was right for Alasdair. But I had never looked at their relationship objectively. I didn't actually know how she was treating him. Maybe she had changed her mind about the things I had heard her say. And Alasdair always looked happy when around her, so she couldn't be awful towards him at least.

"I'm happy we can have this moment," Flora told me when we were alone.

"Oh? Why?" Bile rose in my mouth, and I told myself over and over to be polite. For Alasdair's sake.

"I know ye don't like me," she said, straight to the point. "An' yer opinion matters a lot to Alasdair. Has he told ye about our fight during Valentine's Day?"

They had fought that day? Why hadn't Alasdair told me? Honestly, considering how drunk he had been and how I had straight up asked him why he hadn't gone to Flora, it was weird he hadn't. Especially because he had been so open and vulnerable, so why hadn't he been open and vulnerable about that as well?

Why hadn't he trusted me with that? Why couldn't I be enough for him?

"Seems like not," Flora correctly interpreted my silence. "It was about ye. I just made a little joke, an' he flew off the handle. An' the fight we had durin' Imbolc all cos of somethin' ye had said." She scoffed. But then shook her head as she sighed. "Sorry, I don't wanna antagonise ye or anythin'. But he values ye a lot, an' it's makin' things hard. He puts ye first always. So, I just..." Her eyes looked almost pleading. "I want things to work between him an' me."

"I just want him to be happy," I answered, unsure what she wanted from me, but those words were an essence of myself and felt natural to say in the situation.

"Good. That's good. We're in agreement then." She turned away from me.

"But Flora, I really mean that. I want him to be happy. So if ye hurt him, I won't be forgivin'."

She looked back around, her eyes narrowed. "Are ye threatenin' me?"

"Just statin' facts," I shrugged.

"Oh, ye thinkin' ye..."

"Ye two alright?"

Both me and Flora looked over at Alasdair at the same time. He had his worry wrinkle in place while holding one drink in each of his hands.

"We're fine," Flora said, and then moved to take the drink in his right hand, which held a whisky. He moved the hand out of the way, and extended the left one, a beer, instead.

"Sorry, that one is for Errol," he said.

"Really now?" Flora spat at him, then yanked the other glass out of his hand so the beer spilled over the edge and stormed off.

"What did ye talk about? What did ye tell her?" Alasdair asked me.

"Nothin' she shouldn't already know," I said and then took the whisky glass he held out for me with a thanks.

"She already thinks ye hate her. So please, just please, try to get along with her," Alasdair pleaded with me.

"We won't have any issues as long as she treats ye right."

Alasdair's worry wrinkle disappeared as his face hardened. "Is that it? Did ye threaten her or somethin'? Why did ye have to do that?"

He then stormed after her.

I stood there with my whisky. This had all gone great. I had only been there for five minutes and had already made the birthday lassie and her boyfriend upset with me. I didn't belong there. Should have just turned and left. All I did was make things complicated when all I wanted was to be supportive.

"It's time to open the presents!" Flora's voice rang through the church.

Well, I could just as well stay for that. Stand off to the side. In silence. I wouldn't have to talk with anyone else. Then, when it was over, I could quietly leave. Let them all continue to enjoy themselves like they had before I had showed up.

Flora opened present after present of varying kinds. Make-up, books, ear rings. She thanked everyone and gushed over them. Then she picked up the last present. A flat square present.

My heart quickened.

"An' time for the most special gift," she said, and then turned to Alasdair standing next to her. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, making it clear the gift was from him.

My ears were ringing.

It couldn't be. That gift couldn't contain what I thought it did.

But as Flora removed the paper and held it up for everyone to see, it was as clear as day it was. Her eyes found mine, and I felt as though they lingered on me longer than they had on anyone else. 

With her eyes still on me, I turned and left. 

Stupid. Pathetic. Creep. Disgusting. Pervert.

I had been so stupid when I had thought the story Alasdair had given me was something special. It was, in a way. It was personal, for from the short glimpse I had got of Flora's, it, quite obviously, was a different story. But not as personal as I had thought. He hadn't taken time and effort to make one just for me. I wasn't any more special to him than Flora.

I was pathetic for having thought I was.

As soon as I was outside, I leaned against the church wall. Breathing was hard. Staying upright was harder.

"Why do ye keep on leavin' parties so suddenly?"

Alasdair had obviously noticed me leave.

I put a hand over my face and laughed a dead laugh. Why did he have to care? Couldn't he stop? Couldn't he firmly pick Flora over me and stop giving me hope, which wasn't there, through all of these small gestures?

"Are ye feelin' bad again? She was just openin' presents. So she didn't do anything to ye, right?"

"No," I answered weakly.

"Then, what happened?"

I removed my hand to look at him.

That wrinkle. That damn wrinkle. How I wanted to smooth it out. But he wasn't mine, he would never be mine. No luck could change that.

The stranger's, the leprechaun's, advice rang in my ears. To be lucky, I needed to take risks. And maybe it was about time I took that risk. I had been in love with him knowingly for over eight years. And I had no idea for how long I had been before I had acknowledged it myself.

Take a risk, and maybe, just maybe, I'd get lucky.

I opened my mouth to say it, but the words refused to come out. They were so deeply rooted in my heart. Had lived there for so long without ever getting to leave. They were twisted around the muscle. Had grown into it like parasites. And they refused to let go, to come out.

"I can't do this anymore," I said instead.

"What do you mean?" Alasdair asked and took a step closer to me. He placed a hand on my shoulder, but I took a step out of his grasp.

"I can't be yer friend anymore."

It was a still and beautiful night. No clouds in the sky. Crisp and clean air to breathe. But my words filled every space. They blocked the stars and the moon, robbed them of their glittering beauty. They travelled in the air, echoed in the stillness. Made everything feel heavy and dense.

"What... What did ye say?" Alasdair asked, but the tears in his eyes made it clear he had heard me. I repeated the words all the same.

"I can't be yer friend anymore. It's too hard. I can't bear it anymore."

"Why? What did I do?" He wrapped his arms around himself. Held himself together, and I wished I could step forward, that I could hold him. But that time had passed. I could never hold him again.

"Ye haven't done anythin', Alasdair. It's not cos of ye I can't be yer friend."

"Is it cos of Flora?" His voice rose in volume. His tears were a fact. "Is it? If so, I can dum..."

"No, Alasdair. It's not cos of her," I interrupted him before he could finish that sentence. I knew where it had been going. Knew in his desperation to keep me had been willing to sacrifice her. It made my heart ache unbearably.

Alasdair, my fool.

"Then what?" he shouted at me.

"It's all because of me. It's all my fault, an' ye may hate me as much as ye want."

"Hate ye?" he snorted. "I can never hate ye. I love ye an' I need ye."

That beautiful sentence which hurt as much as it warmed.

"Ye don't need me. Ye'll be fine without me."

"No! I won't! Ye've always been there, ye've always protected me. Please, Errol!" He moved forward again and grabbed hold of my hands. His pleading eyes, with tears falling like a waterfall, looked into mine.

"Trust me. I've not always been there for ye. I've not always protected ye. In truth, ye should be disgusted by me."

"What the hell are ye talkin' about!"

I didn't answer him. Selfishly, I didn't want him to know because I wanted him to think of me the way he did. As someone who was there for him. As someone who protected him. I didn't want that to change even as I ended our friendship.

So I leaned forwards. Pressed my lips against his forehead, and found that I could say those words I hadn't been able to say before because at that moment he wouldn't understand what they actually meant.

"I love ye too," I whispered to him and felt a part of me breathe a little lighter. He didn't know the truth, but I had still got to tell him. Then I let go of his hands and walked away. And I still walked, even as he shouted at me to come back.