Free The Soldier's Tale by RJ Scott Page B

Daniel again tonight. It was the first time they had organised Sean coming to the house as opposed to him just turning up with sacrificial offerings of food from local restaurants. It felt different, not casual, but arranged with some great meaning behind it. Interesting.
    The knock on the door came not long after, but despite his concerns about the whole relationship thing, his good mood meant he didn't have the usual worries about letting the outside world in.
    Will.
    "It's been a while," his best friend said carefully. Daniel could play this one of two ways. He could feign surprise that the date of the wedding was now close, which might buy him a few more hours to pack a bag and run, or he could just come out with it and say no.
    "Will…" He'd made the effort to start, thinking of how to word his refusal to stand up as best man to Will, when he felt his entire wall crumble to pieces. Will wasn't on his own. Sod it, he'd brought the one thing with him that was probably going to cause way more chinks in his armour than Will could ever achieve alone. His bloody fiancée. Di freaking Fitzwarren. Her soft brown hair was loose in her customary straight bob, her pretty face without makeup, and her lips curved up in an innocent smile. Daniel groaned inwardly.
    "Di wanted to talk to you," Will offered, the palms of his hand upright offering innocence in the whole matter, and Daniel did the only thing he could really do.
    "You'd better come in."
    Di sat primly on the end of one of the two sofas that had been here since the fifties, great solid dark brown leather with carved wooden feet.
    "Why don't we have a cup of tea and a quick gossip?" she said gently. "Will can help you in the kitchen." Daniel opened his mouth to protest. He didn't need help in the kitchen, but when he caught Will's gaze and his frantic head gestures, he realised Di was giving the two men time to come up with a suitable defence before she tore it down. Daniel led Will into the kitchen, with all his excuses ready.
    "You don't want me there," Daniel whispered heatedly. "People will look, and stare, and Christ, it's your day, not mine." He put an awful lot of emphasis on the word "your", hoping that would win points in this whole discussion.
    "I told her it was your choice, Dan," Will replied, just as heated. "I told her your stubborn sodding arse wasn't going to be moved."
    "I'm doing this for you and for her—"
    "Yeah? I can't wait to see you run that little nugget of Danielism past her."
    "You said I didn't have to—"
    "I want you to."
    Daniel turned to focus on the kettle and making the tea. He didn't want to hear the disappointment in his friend's voice or see it on his face. He just couldn't do this, couldn't face the people that pointed and stared and called him a hero. They didn't know the first thing about what he'd done or the choices he'd had to make. They couldn't begin to know how it had changed him.
    "You asked me. I said no. It's simple. If you can't accept that, then I'm not sure where we can go from here." None of them took sugar, so he simply stirred milk into the tea, and balancing the mugs on an old 1977 Silver Jubilee tray of his mother's, he led Will back into the front room. He made a show of placing the mugs within reach of Di and Will, and then with a deliberately staggering limp, he hobbled to the ancient sofa and sat, waiting. Will sat next to the woman he was going to be marrying, grasping her hand and nodding as she looked at him. He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to Daniel.
    "I want to ask you, Daniel, one final time, as my best friend since I was in infant school, to be my best man when I marry Di on Saturday."
    "I said no," Daniel said swiftly. "You don't even know me any more." Will bit his lower lip, an expression of sadness crossing his face.
    "He wants to know the you that is now, Daniel, but you won't let him." Di was very clear in what she said. There was no uncertainty, no hesitation, but equally no