When Conor called that night, I was so nervous I barely knew what to say. Instead, I kept cracking jokes, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence. It felt strange—like something was off.
"What time are you arriving?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
"Right in the morning. 9 am," he replied.
A brief silence followed before I asked again, "Would you like me to pick you up?" I added quickly, "—with a taxi, of course."
"You don't have to," he said, his voice slightly nervous. "I was thinking we could all meet at Shelly and James's house at 3 pm. You're keen?"
My heart started racing. Panic set in. Should I be scared or excited? I didn't know how to feel.
I said yes without hesitation, unable to think of a reason to argue. I just... accepted.
After an awkward pause, I excused myself and went to bed, my mind swirling with confusion and anxiety. Conor had never acted like this before. He was always open with me. He usually *asked* me to pick him up, always happy for me to be there. Now, he seemed distant, almost cold. Old memories resurfaced immediately... been there before... let's not hope it's—
Maybe it's that—no, it can't be that. It mustn't be that he's met someone.
But then again, every time he had been with someone in the past, he still talked to me, still took me out. We were still *us*.
Is it that? No... it *can't* be.
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...
