The best man

Chapter 3

The weight of the day pressed down on me, and I realized it was time for a change. I needed to transform my habits and embrace a healthier lifestyle.

I envisioned swapping video games and takeout for cooking every night, infusing my evenings with the joy of preparing meals and the soothing sounds of music. I craved movies that depicted healthy relationships among friends, family, and partners. It was time to ditch *Bridget Jones's Diary* for now; watching it too often was becoming unhealthy, a constant reminder of what I couldn't have.

On my way home, I stopped by the market, picking up fresh vegetables, a juicy steak, and a bottle of wine. I stocked up on a variety of spices, excited to experiment in the kitchen. I even treated myself to some old-school music records, classics like "Time After Time" by Cyndi Lauper and "Vision of Love" by Mariah Carey. Music had always been a source of comfort for me, and I hoped it would help ease the pain.

As I began to cook, the aroma of sizzling steak mixed with the melodies drifting through the air. I found myself lost in thought, recalling the times Conor and I had danced in the kitchen—sometimes to no music at all—just the two of us waiting for the ragù to simmer. Those moments were filled with laughter and love, yet they now felt like bittersweet reminders of what I had lost. I had to let go of that nostalgia; I needed to.

Positioning myself in the center of the kitchen, I began to sway to "Against All Odds" by Phil Collins. The haunting melody enveloped me, pulling at the strings of my heart. As I danced, a deep sadness washed over me. I imagined how wonderful it would have been to dance with Conor tonight, to share a bottle of wine and laugh together. But he was gone now—truly, irrevocably gone—and the reality of it struck me like a physical blow.

The lyrics resonated with my pain, each note echoing my heartache. In the midst of my dancing, with a glass of wine in hand, I felt the dam break. I collapsed onto the floor, crying and screaming, overwhelmed by a wave of despair. "What's wrong with me?" I shouted into the emptiness of my apartment. "Why wasn't I chosen by Conor?"

I was broken, devastated by the realization that in just three days, I would face the man I loved so deeply, planning his wedding and supporting him as he embraced a future with someone else. The thought of enduring that, of watching him celebrate a life I once imagined for us, felt unbearable.

As tears streamed down my face, I allowed myself to feel every emotion—the sadness, the anger, the confusion. It was a painful yet necessary part of my healing journey. I knew I had to confront these feelings head-on, to find a way to rebuild my heart amidst the rubble of what had been. I just hoped that by the time the wedding arrived, I could muster the strength to face it all.