The house was quiet. Everybody had already left for the church and Sybil was standing alone in the library, waiting for her father to come and get her to leave. She had been ready for ages, as if she wanted the whole thing already done with and be able to begin to move on.

It was her wedding day and she wasn't supposed to have time for herself, time to think, time to decide if she was making a mistake or not. She made a choice but was it a good one? She was supposed to be happy…eager even. But instead of having people fussing all around her, here she was, alone.

Alone with her thoughts.

And it was dangerous.

She went to the ledger and absently turned the pages to try and divert her mind from going crazy. But when her eyes landed on a certain name, she knew it wasn't such a good idea. The name just jumped in her face, resurfacing memories she was desperately trying to bury.

Two blue, sad eyes were dancing in her mind and she just closed hers to try and make them go away. But she knew it was vain: Tom Branson's disappointment and sadness would haunt her for the rest of her life.

"You're beautiful."

The brogue, thicker than usual, made her jump slightly and she opened her eyes and turned to see the same blue eyes looking at her from the opened French door, unsure.

"Sorry, I didn't want to startle you," he said after clearing his throat, nervously gripping his chauffeur cap in his hands.

She blinked, as to be sure that she wasn't imagining his unexpected presence, and then blushed when she knew she wasn't.

"You shouldn't be here," she breathed while nervously looking towards the door. "My father could come at any time."

"He's busy with Carson. Some last minute checking for the wine."

She nodded and turned completely to face him, not knowing what to say to him or why he was even there. They hadn't talked since that night three months earlier, aside from the custom banalities and polite words.

"I wanted to offer my congratulations as I haven't had the opportunity until now," he said, breaking the silence.

"Thank you," she murmured, blushing slightly and looking down.

"I really hope you'll be happy."

She looked up again at that, surprise probably written all over her face. After what she did to him, she wasn't expecting any kindness from him.

"Don't look so surprised. You know how I feel about you but just because I can't have you doesn't mean that I want you to be miserable. You made your choice and I truly hope you'll have a happy life."

Saying it out loud was painful for him, even if he truly thought it so he looked down to try and hide his discomfort from her. Touched by his words but seeing what they were doing to him, she took the few steps separating them and reached for his arm. But, like if burned, he hastily took it away from her touch, taking a step back.

"Please, don't…" he begged.

And suddenly, it was like they were living this awful night all over again. The night when she told him she couldn't marry him. The night when she chose her family over him. Since then, and even if she had moved on, not a day passed without her thinking of his figure slumped over the workbench, shaking with sobs. How could she forget it as she was responsible? Of course, he didn't know she had seen him crying. After dropping her news, she had gone back to the house but, overwhelmed by remorse of leaving him alone, she had turned around and found him like that. Not knowing what to do and thinking it was probably best not to add to his sorrow by her presence, she quietly left the garage, unbeknownst to him.

"I know I hurt you and that I wasted your time," she finally said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Every minute of my wait was worth it. Even if the outcome wasn't the one I had expected. But, if I know that you're happy, then I'll be able to live with it."

"I'm sure you'll find someone who will make you happy," she said with a shy smile.

He shrugged and looked away.

"I won't hold my breath," he simply answered. "How could I possibly love again when the pieces of my heart are shattered all over the ground of Downton Abbey's garage?"

He didn't intended to say the last part aloud but he did and he regretted it immediately seeing the hurt on her face.

"Sorry, I…"

"You have every right to be mad at me," she said after she regrouped. "I know you stayed here for me, waiting for my answer. And I'm sorry you have to stay here now to help your family when you probably want to be miles away from me. Mrs. Hughes told me about your mother and your brother, I'm sorry."

Destiny had tricked him when both his mother and brother had lost their jobs at the same time. He desperately wanted to run away from this place the moment she said no but his mother almost begged him to stay to support them. He had a good place, she told him and the chances for him to find one as good in Ireland were close to zero. So he stayed, swallowing his pride and bearing to see her with another man. But he was done with it now. He couldn't stand it anymore. There was no way he could hear about her happiness, even if he wouldn't witness it daily as she wouldn't live at Downton.

"In fact, I also came to say goodbye…"

"I don't understand?" she frowned, feeling a pinch in her heart.

"I won't be here when you come back from your honeymoon in Paris. Things are better for my family now and I can go home. They don't need my money anymore."

It was a blatant lie but there was no other way for him. He decided to use the savings he had gathered for him and Sybil to help his family, even if it would mean having nothing left in the end. At last, he would be away from this place…and away from her happiness. To be honest, his first idea was to leave as soon as possible once his decision was made but Lord Grantham thought otherwise. He insisted he needed him to be Sybil's chauffeur on her wedding day when Tom did all he could for it to be Pratt. But, the truth was the master of the house had no idea how his request was hurting Tom and how it would destroy him a little bit more…

Sybil was looking at him, feeling suddenly lost. It would be strange to come back to this house and not see his green figure. Her throat was tight and she had to swallow before speaking.

"It's my turn to be happy for you, then. Even if it won't be the same here without you. But I'm sure you won't remember me when you are a famous journalist."

She tried to put some lightness in her voice but failed miserably. She didn't know why she was feeling that way, why it was hurting so much to know he was leaving. After all, she chose to leave him first…

Tom didn't answer and just let his eyes linger on her, as if he wanted to memorize every little detail of her then he bent slightly towards her.

"Goodbye, Milady," he croaked before putting his cap back on and, with one last nod, turned around.

"Goodbye, Tom," breathed Sybil so softly that he probably didn't hear it.

He disappeared outside when Robert opened the library door.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

His smile died on his lips when he saw that his daughter was crying.

"Oh, my darling…what's going on?"

He went to her and took her hands in his.

"Is it nerves? You know, you can change your mind if you want…"

Sybil had surprised everybody when she announced her engagement with Mr. Christopher Cooper only two months previous. Her parents, mainly her father, weren't very happy about it because he was a surgeon. But, when they learned he was from a noble family, their demeanors changed completely and they welcomed him with open arms. Sybil knew him from her training at York. At the time, he flirted slightly with her but she wasn't interested then, having too much on her mind after parting with Branson. But, when he surprisingly reentered her life, she welcomed his attentions and, when he proposed to her, she saw it as a way to move on after her life decision. To be honest, she even surprised herself for accepting so quickly and maybe that was why today she was struggling a little bit with the events.

Finally registering her father words, Sybil shook her veiled head and forced a smile.

"Don't mind me," she said. "Happy tears."

Robert nodded.

"Alright. Shall we go then?" he asked, offering her his arm.

Sybil took it and they both exited the room. Outside, Tom was waiting for them near the open door of the car, as still as a statue, looking straight in front of him. As usual, he helped her in the car but avoided her eyes. He just wanted to get it over with: drive her to the church then back as Mrs. Cooper. Fortunately, Pratt was supposed to drive them to the train station tonight so, after the church, he could lock himself in his cottage and wait for his misery to end. Once she is away, he would be able to breathe a little bit before going on with his life.

Once everyone was settled, he started the car. He was counting on a silent trip but unfortunately for him, Lord Grantham had decided otherwise.

"Isn't she beautiful, Branson?"

To say that the question surprised him was an understatement. Since he began serving the Crawley Family, never had one of them ever asked him about another member of the family. Even his attempt with Sybil to talk about Mary and Matthew had ended in failure. So now, Lord Grantham's question was definitively making him uncomfortable. He looked in the rear-view and held Sybil's gaze one second before looking back at the road and answering.

"Yes she is, my lord. Very beautiful."

Sybil, who was as uncomfortable as Tom looked away and through the window and didn't see the very satisfied and proud smile of her father. Fortunately for Tom, Lord Grantham's questions stopped and he just had to endure, as Sybil he supposed, for the rest of the trip, the traditional father speech and latest recommendations before becoming a young bride. And, in the rush of wanting the day to be over, Tom felt his foot pushing harder on the gas pedal, as if he couldn't arrive soon enough.

At last, they reached the church. Family and friends were already all gathered inside and only a few villagers were playing curious in front of the building. Despite her father's insistence, Sybil stayed firmed, claiming she wanted a little wedding and avoid too much fuss around it. So it stayed that way, even if the church was full. Tom knew that Gwen was invited and he regretted not to be able to see her before and his hopes to see her later was nearing zero as he intended to hide in his cottage.

Stopping the car, Tom jumped out and opened the door for her as her father helped himself out. She reached for his hand and he helped her, giving her fingers a light pressure before releasing her hand in her father's one. "That's it," Tom thought when he dared at last to look at her retreating form. His heart was beating so loud in his chest that he was wondering if people around could hear it. The bells started to ring and he felt his heart being ripped out of him again, wondering how it was even possible as it was already broken. Then the doors closed behind the bride and her father, the bells stopped. It was silent again and, as the curious were starting to disperse, he stayed still next to the car, as if knocked unconscious. This was really happening, he had really lost her. In a few days, he'll go back to Ireland, to his family and try to move on with his life. But he already knew that trying to forget her would take time if he ever succeeds.

To be continued