The best man

Chapter 2

He held me so tightly that night, like we were the only two people in the world. The kiss was intense, passionate, and it felt like everything I had ever wanted was finally happening. As everyone around us counted down to midnight, lost in their own celebrations, we kept kissing like time itself didn't exist for us. Nothing else happened that night—we didn't go beyond that kiss—but in those few moments, I thought I had everything I had ever wanted.

When I got back to my dorm, my mind was spinning with joy. I couldn't stop giggling under my covers, replaying the kiss over and over in my head. I'd never been in a relationship before, never experienced anything like this, so to me, that kiss *had* to mean something. In my heart, I believed it meant we were together now—that I was his girlfriend. How could it not? We kissed. This was what I thought—*because we kissed*.

But the next day, reality hit in the form of a phone call. Conor sounded different, sick almost, like the warmth and excitement from last night had drained out of him. He asked if we could meet at the coffee shop to talk. I was so eager to see him, thinking maybe he felt the same way I did. I imagined us laughing about last night, maybe even planning our next date.

But when I saw him, my heart sank. There was something off about him—he looked uncomfortable, like he didn't want to be there.

"I'm sorry, Lily," he said quietly.

I blinked, not understanding. Why was he apologizing? My heart raced with confusion as I clung to the hope that this was just a misunderstanding. But then he spoke again, and his words shattered the dream I had built up in my head.

"What happened yesterday, it was a mistake."

I felt the air leave my lungs. "What do you mean?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady as I reached for his hand. My smile, which had been bright with anticipation, began to fade.

He pulled his hand away, placing it under the table. He couldn't even look at me. "I was drunk, Lily," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "I didn't mean to lead you on. I don't want to ruin our friendship or hurt you. So... let's just forget about it."

Forget about it. How could I forget about it? That kiss, which had meant the world to me, had been nothing more than a drunken mistake to him. I felt like my heart was crumbling right there in that coffee shop. For him, it was just something to be brushed aside, but for me, it had been everything. I sat there in silence, trying to hold back tears as my chest tightened with pain.

After that conversation, Conor pulled away from me. We stopped talking for days, and the silence was unbearable. I felt like I was being abandoned all over again, just like before I had met him. The nights were the worst. I'd lie in bed, crying softly into my pillow, wondering what was wrong with me—wondering why I wasn't enough. I couldn't shake the feeling that I had done something wrong, that somehow, I had ruined everything.

I tried to move on, to distract myself, but Conor was everywhere—in my thoughts, in my memories. Even when I spent time with James and Shelly, the absence of his presence weighed on me. They were his friends too, and no matter how hard I tried to forget, he was always there, like a ghost lingering just out of reach.

Then one night, as I sat at my desk trying to focus on studying, there was a knock at my door. My heart skipped a beat as I opened it, and there he was—Conor, standing awkwardly in the hallway with a big box of pizza in his hands.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft and unsure, like he didn't know if he was welcome.

I stared at him for a moment, my emotions swirling inside me—hurt, confusion, hope. He apologized for disappearing, explaining that he needed some space after what had happened between us. He said he wanted things to go back to the way they were, to just be friends again.

But for me, nothing could ever truly go back to the way it was. That kiss, that brief, perfect moment, had changed everything. And even though I said I forgave him, even though I accepted his offer of friendship, a part of me knew that things would never be the same.