The best man

Chapter 4

It's been raining all afternoon, a slow drizzle that's lingered since I got home from work. The perfect weather to stay in and relax. I spend the hours coloring in my new book, a beautiful set of markers scattered across the table beside me. I sip my hot tea, the warmth spreading through me as soft jazz plays in the background. The music fills the air with a comforting rhythm, blending perfectly with the gentle patter of rain against the windows.

For two hours, I lose myself in the colors, finishing two full pages of adorable dogs doing different activities. On this page, they're buying pumpkins at a little farm stand—so cute, it makes me smile. I take my time choosing the perfect shades: one dog is a warm brown with dark spots, the other a light ginger. For the shop, I use autumn tones, deep reds and golden yellows, and, of course, vibrant orange for the pumpkins.

It's peaceful, and I'm having fun, lost in this little world I'm creating. The stress of the past few weeks fades, replaced by the simple joy of coloring.

Then, my phone buzzes. A message from Conor.

"Hey!" he writes.

I stare at the screen, my hand hovering over the markers. Do I really want to answer? I've been having such a good time, and I know talking to him will stir up feelings I'm trying to move past.

A second message appears: "Do you want to hang out next Monday after work?"

Relief washes over me. I actually have plans. It's book club week—a perfect excuse to say no.

"Sorry, I can't next week, I have plans," I reply, feeling a slight sense of victory.

Almost immediately, his next message pops up.

"You've been pretty distant lately."

I hesitate, my mood souring as I read those words. Does he not see how things have changed? How *he's* changed everything?

"Conor, you're engaged. We can't see each other like we used to."

There's a long pause. I picture him on the other end, processing the truth of it. Finally, after what feels like minutes, he responds.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I guess I'll see you for the bachelor party then..."

"I guess so!" I send back, keeping the tone light, though inside I feel strangely proud. Proud that I said what needed to be said. Proud that I'm not letting myself be pulled into the past.

But just as I start to relax again, another message appears.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

Excuse me?

My fingers hover over the keyboard, anger bubbling up.

"What do you care?" I reply, annoyance creeping into my thoughts.

"Because you've been acting distant with me. We barely talk, and every time I try, you're cold," he shoots back.

I take a breath, trying not to let my frustration spill over.

"I'm just respecting your relationship. And no, I'm not seeing anyone. But even if I were, I wouldn't tell you because it's none of your business."

I expect him to back off, but instead, his next message only annoys me more.

"But we're friends, and friends are supposed to tell each other everything!"

A bitter laugh escapes my lips. "You told me last minute that you were engaged, dude. You kept it a secret from me. I don't see why I should share anything with you either."

The silence that follows is longer this time. Maybe this conversation is finally sinking in for him. Maybe he's realizing that things aren't the same anymore—and they never will be.

Part of me feels guilty. There's a small tug in my chest, wondering if I've hurt him. But another part, a bigger part, feels good. I'm setting boundaries. I'm standing up for myself.

I close the chat and set my phone aside, returning to my coloring. The page before me is full of vibrant autumn colors, a world that feels light and happy, untouched by the complicated emotions I've just been wading through. I make myself another cup of tea, and as the rain continues to fall, I let the jazz and the colors pull me back into the calm.

This is my night. And no one is going to take that from me.