The best man

Chapter 10

As Conor sits on the couch, I carefully dab at his nose with a cloth, wincing a little every time he flinches.

"Ouch," he groans.

"Sorry," I whisper, pulling the cloth back slightly. "I'm trying to be gentle."

"I know, I know." He exhales deeply, leaning his head back against the couch. His nose is swollen and red, a reminder of the fight that just happened. I stand up and go to the freezer, grabbing a bag of ice. As I hand it to him, he presses it against his nose, hissing through his teeth.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice soft, catching me off guard.

I look at him for a second, not really sure how to answer. "Yeah, I'm fine," I say, though my mind is swirling with a hundred different things.

Conor watches me carefully, his eyes searching mine as if he's trying to figure out what's really going on. There's a silence between us, not awkward but heavy. We're both lost in our own thoughts.

Then, just for a moment, our eyes meet and hold. It's like time slows down, the room becoming smaller, quieter. Before I can even register what's happening, Conor leans in slightly, closing the distance between us. I can feel his breath on my lips, and for a split second, I almost give in. My heart races, everything around me blurring, but something inside me pulls me back.

I move my head to the side, standing up quickly. "I should—uh, I need a minute," I mutter, excusing myself.

Conor leans back, his expression a mix of regret and embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Lily. I didn't mean to—" he starts, his voice full of apology.

"It's fine, Conor," I interrupt gently, trying to calm the tension. "It's just... a lot right now."

The hours go by, and we mostly sit in silence, watching the TV as background noise. I don't feel much like talking, and neither does he. Eventually, Conor stands up, stretching his arms.

"I guess I should head out," he says quietly, walking over to me. Before I can say anything, he pulls me into a hug, his arms tight around me like he's trying to protect me from the world.

"Look, I'll come by tomorrow, okay? Just to check on you," he says as he pulls back, his hands lingering on my shoulders. His eyes are soft, almost pleading for something, but I don't know what.

I nod. "Sure, tomorrow."

He gives me a small, almost sad smile, then turns and heads to the door. I watch as he steps outside, the night swallowing him up. The door closes softly behind him, and I stand there for a moment, my hand still on the handle, feeling like the weight of everything is pressing down on me.