As I walked back into the crowded room, I quickly excused myself for the scene I had caused, lying that I was simply overwhelmed with joy for Conor and his soon-to-be wife. Everyone accepted my explanation and carried on with the celebration, leaving me to retreat to the kitchen. I needed a glass of wine—anything to dull the ache inside. As I poured my drink, Conor followed me, concern etched on his face.
"Are you okay with what I asked you?" he questioned softly.
I took a slow sip before answering, masking the numbness and anger swirling inside me. I couldn't afford to let him see me devastated and broken, never.
"Of course, I'll be your best man," I said, my voice steady even though I felt anything but. Deep down, I knew I had no choice. I had to face reality. I had to forgive him and somehow move on. Taking a deep breath, I added, "I'm sorry for acting up earlier. You're my friend, and I want you to be happy. I'll be there for you, Conor."
I forced a smile, but it felt like I was ripping myself apart from the inside.
He stepped forward, trying to hug me, but I instinctively pulled away. I couldn't bear to feel his touch anymore—it hurt too much, like rubbing salt into an open wound. Yet, despite everything, I still loved him. Why? Why couldn't I let him go?
What is wrong with me, Lord?
YOU ARE READING
The best man
Literatura FemininaLily 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...
