Love Actually: Juliet, Peter & Mark

Mark continued to study Peter's profile, feeling it would be a betrayal, a letting down of his friend to break the contact. Finally, his best friend turned his head, and it was as bad as Mark feared. Dark eyes stared at him so filled with pain the connection felt like a blow. It winded him.

"I have to go. I can't be around you right now." The words were a croak as if they'd passed over jagged glass to exit Peter's mouth.

"I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry."

Pete merely nodded.

He rose, leaving his half-finished beer and strode away. Mark watched, a huge part of him regretting his confession. Pete was in agony, and it was partly his fault. He cursed Juliet for making him a party to her betrayal.

Pete opened the door and walked out, the door closing behind him. Something inside Mark gave. The closing of that door ended something. Possibly a friendship but most definitely a love. He no longer loved Juliet.

XXXXX

JULIET LOOKED HORRIFIED. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Couldn't believe Mark had told Peter about her attempted seduction. The room spun. She felt like she was reeling but reeling was the wrong word. Reeling sounded like dancing, like fun. This didn't feel like fun. This sensation was nauseating, like she was swirling, spinning at breakneck speed out of control. It felt like it was never going to end and that soon her stomach would exit her mouth.

"Why, Juliet? Just tell me why?"

Juliet stared at Peter's agonised face; her mouth worked but nothing came out. She felt frozen in time. Her body wouldn't work. Her mind wouldn't work. She was trapped, frozen, in a horror film.

It didn't matter, though. Pete continued, hardly having paused. "I thought we had a good life. I thought we were happy. I thought you were happy."

"I-I-I am. We are."

"Don't lie!"

Juliet flinched. Never, not once in ten years had Pete ever yelled at her, not like this. Not so the words seemed to reverberate around the room.

"I'm not. I haven't," she stammered.

"Yes, you have. Every damn day of the last seven years has been a lie. How many times have you thought about him while I made love to you?"

"I-I—"

"Tell me the truth."

"I don't think about him. I love you. Only you. He's lying. I don't know why, but he's lying."

There it was. The lie. The lie to save herself. Save them. It was justified if it saved their marriage.

The line was crossed. Juliet hurtled on. Anything to save herself. Save their relationship. To wipe the look of tortured anger from Pete's face.

"He's in love with me. Mark is in love with me. Always has been. He must be trying to break us up. He wants me for himself. Don't listen to him. Don't let him come between us."

"After ten years he decides now is the time to try and break us up?"

"I don't know," Juliet stammered, grasping at straws. "He tried once before. Just after we got married..."

"You mean with the placards? When you told me it was Christmas carollers?"

For the second time Juliet's body froze, but this time her mind raced. Peter knew? How could he know? Had he looked out the window? Seen her run after Mark? Why hadn't he said anything before now? Had Mark told him? What could she say now to save her marriage? Damn Mark. Damn him.

"I know all about that, Juliet. I've known for years. Mark told me. He told me on that New Year's Eve. He confessed everything."

Juliet collapsed into the armchair, stunned. "And you stayed friends with him? Why? Why would you do that?"

"Because in the three years we dated before getting married he never tried anything. Never flirted with you. Never made a pass. Never said a bad word about you. Nothing. And then he confessed about you realising he was in love with you that day you visited him at his apartment to see the video he took of our wedding and about the placards on Christmas Eve..."

"And so you believe him over me? Your friend over your wife?"

The look of sadness that came over Pete's face nearly broke Juliet.

"Yes, I do. He's never lied to me. You have."

"I haven—"

"No more lies, Juliet. Please. No more lies."

Peter sank onto the lounge. He looked weary. As if he'd run a marathon.

"Tell me why. I need to understand."

And so she explained it as best she could, her heart breaking. Saying it aloud made it sound so inadequate. She sounded like the worst kind of human being. She knew it probably meant the end of her marriage. Peter would never trust her again. But he deserved the truth. It was the least she could do for him.

"But, sweetheart, they were only fantasies. It's you I love. You, I want to spend my life with."

It was the truth. But the truth wouldn't be enough. Deep down she knew that, but she fought anyway.

"Perhaps, but your fantasy involved my best friend. Not some celebrity. Not some nameless faceless billboard model. It involved Mark."

"Forgive me. I didn't mean to hurt you. I never wanted that. It was a moment of weakness. Surely one bad action doesn't undo ten years of good. Of love. Please, Pete. We can get past this."

"You might be able to, but I can't. You've ruined everything. Every moment we've shared, every memory, is tarnished. Contaminated. I'll never be able to look at you, touch you, kiss you... never be able to make love to you again and not wonder. That would eat away at me. I'd start to resent you. Probably end up hating you. I can't live like that."

"But I didn't cheat! Not really. It only got as far as one kiss. Please, Pete, please don't give up on us. You still love me. I know you do."

"Did you not just hear me? Yes, okay, I still love you. But right now, I also hate you. You have spent the last seven years fantasising about having sex with Mark. You get off dreaming about another man who happens to be my best friend. Do you really have no idea how hurt and betrayed I feel? How small and inadequate? I can hardly bring myself to look at you."

"I'll stop."

Peter snorted. "Too little, too late. You can't undo the last seven years."

"But I want to. I wish I could. I regret it. I am so sorry for everything, for the fantasising, for hurting you. Everything. Doesn't that count for anything? Pete, please, I am so beyond sorry. I don't want to lose you. I love you so much."

"Sometimes love isn't enough."

The sadness and resignation in Pete's voice silenced them both. It hung like a weight over them, sucking all the air from the room.

It was Pete who broke the spell. "I'll stay somewhere else tonight and come for the rest of my gear on the weekend."

Panic welled inside Juliet. It was really happening. He was really going to leave her. It wasn't a bad dream. A nightmare. It was real. She couldn't believe it. And she had no one to blame but herself. She wanted to blame Mark. Blame fate. Blame something, someone. She was losing the best thing that had ever happened to her and there was no outside force she could point the finger at. That gutted her.

"Are you going to stay with Mark?"

Juliet didn't know where the question came from but as it left her mouth, she felt a rush of jealousy and anger. Mark. Bloody honest, boy scout Mark. Everything would have been fine if he'd just kept his mouth shut.

"No. I can't. Don't you get it? I feel too humiliated. I couldn't satisfy my wife. You've emasculated me in front of my oldest and best friend. Because of what you've done I can't look at him either now. Something else I can thank you for. I've not only lost my wife. I've lost my best friend too. Thanks. Thanks, Juliet, thanks."

The words were bitter. It matched the look he gave her as he rose. Juliet stood too. She couldn't believe it was truly over.

Peter turned and headed toward the stairs. Juliet couldn't bear for those to be the last words he said to her. That the last look he gave her was one of such vitriol.

"I love you, Peter. I truly love you."

He reached the stairs and turned to her. "You should have remembered that when it mattered. When temptation came a knocking on your door."

XXXXX

EPILOGUE - FIVE YEARS LATER

PETER GLANCED SIDEWAYS at Hannah in the dim glow of the light from the wall sconce secured to the wall above them. It threw shadows across her pretty face, accentuating her high cheekbones. He supposed the pub was attempting to provide a sense of privacy, maybe even romance. He looked around the room and there was certainly a few couples and foursomes seated in the booths that lined the walls.

He was surprised to realise he was nervous. He was convinced he could hear his own heartbeat and it was like a gymnasium full of bouncing basketballs. It had been five years since he'd last seen Mark. As much as he had wanted to see him, to talk, or to just hang out, he hadn't been able to. The humiliation he experienced had been too deep. The whole Juliet thing had altered the status quo in their friendship. Flipped it. Growing up it had been Peter who was the popular one, the one in demand. Juliet's betrayal had irrevocably changed that. The loss of his friend had been huge, as devastating as the loss of his wife. It should have been to Mark that he could turn in his time of grief, but Juliet's deceit had made that impossible.

In the early days he'd considered talking to Jamie about it. If anyone could understand his feelings it would have been Jamie. Jamie's girlfriend prior to Aurelia had had an affair with his own brother, for God's sake. What a low bitch. But Jamie wasn't Mark. He was a good friend, but not his closest friend. And so, he'd kept it all bottled up until Hannah. Something about her invited honesty, invited truth.

Thoughts of Mark inevitably led to thoughts of Juliet. She hadn't taken the divorce well. She'd borderline stalked him. So much so he'd transferred to the New York office, where, ironically, he'd met Hannah, another British expat. Even in New York word had gotten back to him on Juliet's movements. Funny how people seemed to feel the need to keep you up to date with what your ex was up to. Apparently, she'd gotten around a bit, to put it delicately, before remarrying a year or so ago. If rumour had it correct, the marriage wasn't going well, and the guy was about to become her second ex-husband.

The hole Mark's absence had left in his life had been huge. Enormous. Especially at first. Time and physical distance had helped, but never fully filled the hole. With Hannah's encouragement, he'd braved Mark's rejection and sent him an email.

It shamed him that it took him three-plus years to reach out to his friend, but Juliet's humiliation had run deep. Core deep. Peter knew Mark had deserved better from him and he certainly hadn't intended to let the silence go for as long as it had but somehow the longer he held back the harder it became to take that first step. The time itself became a barrier, like an ever-widening chasm. Mark hadn't done anything wrong, in fact, he'd shown the depth of his loyalty by not only rejecting Juliet's advances but by being the messenger of such devastating news and Peter knew that with his silence he'd punished his friend. Mark had put Peter's long-term welfare above his own and Peter had repaid his sacrifice with distance.

Peter remembered how he'd checked his email every hour on the hour after having finally hit the send button on his missive. He'd half expected Mark to ignore it or reply with a fuck-off response. Instead, his friend had welcomed him back. Peter was fully aware just how fortunate he was. For almost two years they'd been cyber pen pals. Communicating via the written word had helped Peter ease his way back into their friendship. He suspected Mark understood because Mark, though always prompt in replying and friendly and full of news, had never pushed to meet up.

But now he and Hannah were back in London and seeing his best mate face-to-face could no longer be avoided.

Peter stared down into the creamy amber of his pint of beer. The tremor of his hand sent ripples across its surface, threatening to send the frothy head splashing over the rim. He quickly lifted the glass to his lips and took a big swallow.

Hannah placed her hand over his. It felt warm and soothing. "It will be all right, sweetheart. If he's even half the friend you say he is, he will be glad that you're home and want to see him."

Peter smiled at her. He had thought he would spend the rest of his life lonely and loveless after divorcing Juliet. He'd been surprised the divorce hadn't killed him. At the time he'd thought a bullet to the head or heart would have been kinder. Hannah had proved him wrong. His love for her hadn't hit him like a bolt of lightning as it had with Juliet. No, it had quietly swelled until one day it flowed through every cell in his body, and he realised he couldn't imagine a future without her.

There was so much he loved about her. Her laugh, for one. She laughed with her entire body, throwing her head back, her throat exposed for a moment before she'd dip forward, her hand covering her mouth in an attempt to control the volume.

He loved her quietness, the way it concealed an active mind. She would tilt her head to the side and listen, not interrupting, and then cut to the heart of the matter with a few sentences.

And he loved her kindness and wisdom. Early on, when he'd had a moment of doubting himself, when he'd questioned whether he was good enough, worthy enough for her, capable of keeping her satisfied both physically and emotionally, she'd stopped him. "Don't do that. Don't doubt yourself. Don't get stuck in that negative cycle. There is no reason to believe that Juliet's cheating was anything to do with something you said or did, or something you didn't say or do. Her betrayal is on her, not you." Those words had set him free.

"Hello, Pete."

Peter looked up into the face of his childhood friend. It hadn't changed much in the last five years. Mark was smiling, a little tentative and shy, but happy.

Peter rose and extended his hand. Mark grabbed it eagerly. In that moment Peter knew they'd be okay.

"Mark, I'd like to introduce my fiancé, Hannah. Hannah this is my best friend, Mark."

THE END

And now, borrowing from Vandemonium1. Here's a joke!

Little April was not the best student in Sunday school. Usually, she slept through class.

One day the teacher called on her while she was napping, "Tell me, April, who created the universe?"

When April didn't stir, little Johnny, a boy seated in the chair behind her, took a pin and jabbed her in the rear.

"GOD ALMIGHTY!" shouted April and the teacher said, "Very good," and April fell back asleep.

A while later the teacher asked April, "Who is our Lord and Saviour?"

Once again, April didn't even stir from her slumber. Once again, Johnny came to the rescue and stuck her again.

"JESUS CHRIST!" shouted April and the teacher said, "Very good," and April fell back asleep.

Then the teacher asked April a third question. "What did Eve say to Adam after she had her twenty-third child?" and again, Johnny jabbed April with the pin.

This time April jumped up and shouted, "IF YOU STICK THAT THING IN ME ONE MORE TIME, I'LL BREAK IT IN HALF AND STICK IT UP YOU'RE ARSE!"

...The teacher fainted!