A couple of days passed, and I found myself sitting with Shelly at our usual café, venting about Conor's vague message.
"He didn't tell me *anything!*" I said, exasperated. "He just said I have to wait until he comes back."
Shelly shifted in her seat, rubbing her belly nervously. "James spoke to him yesterday too..."
"And?" I asked, leaning in.
"Well... nothing." She avoided eye contact, her response quick and dismissive.
It felt off. Shelly wasn't acting like herself, and I knew her well enough to sense that she was hiding something. James always told her everything that Conor shared with him. She had to know something she wasn't telling me.
*Could my suspicions be true?* I thought. *Maybe he's sick!*
"Shelly, is he sick?" I asked, my voice trembling with anxiety.
"He's *not* sick, Lily!" she replied, a little too sharply, then softened her tone. "Just wait for him to come back and tell you straight."
She seemed exhausted, and the conversation clearly weighed on her. She excused herself, getting ready to leave.
"Lily, I'm pregnant, and this is too much to handle right now," she said, holding my hand gently. "I love you, but like I told you before, I think it's time to move on. Now, walk me home—I'm not feeling great."
Her words hung heavy in the air as we stood to leave.
*Why did she say that? What's really going on with Conor?*
YOU ARE READING
The best man
ChickLitLily and Conor have been inseparable since their university days, bound by a deep friendship that has weathered the test of time. While Conor appreciates Lily's presence in his life and the comfort of their relationship, he remains oblivious to the...
