As I got closer to Conor's house, my heart pounded rapidly in my chest. Sitting in the back of the Uber, I felt uneasy. My hands were damp and itchy with nervousness.
"You okay, miss?" the driver asked, catching my reflection in the rearview mirror.
He could sense my nerves.
"I'm fine," I replied, though my voice was barely convincing.
He handed me a bottle of water, which I quickly opened and drank.
"Tough start to the day, huh?" he asked, trying to make small talk.
I finished the water, pausing before finally responding, "Yes."
When we arrived at my destination, I didn't get out right away. I sat there for at least twenty minutes, staring at the door ahead.
"It's a guy, isn't it?" he asked, his tone gentle but knowing.
I glanced at him, my heart still racing. "Yes."
"Don't mind him. You're too pretty for him, anyway," he said with a small smile.
His words were sweet, and it helped, if only a little. I gave him a faint smile back, appreciating the kindness.
After taking a moment to freshen up—fixing my face, adding more deodorant, and drinking another bottle of water—I finally gathered the courage to step out of the car.
I rang the doorbell, praying that someone—anyone other than Conor or Anne Marie—would open the door. Maybe Rosette, his cleaning lady, would be better.
"Please, God, not Conor," I silently pleaded. "Please, please, please!"
The door opened, and to my relief, it was Shelly standing there.
Thank God. At least it was her.
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...
