Too complicated

Too complicated: Part 18

Y/n POV:

There are 60 seconds in a minute. 60 minutes in an hour. 24 hours in a day and 365 of those in an entire year. 

People say when you're surrounded by the people you love, doing the things that you love, all that time, all those seconds and minutes and hours and days fall out of your grasp faster than trying to cup water in your hands. It slips between the cracks, discreetly, almost unnoticeably until you look down and realise it's completely empty and you're left with nothing. 

Everything moved so quickly after he left. It was like time was trying to push me out of the door of sadness and loneliness so I could thrive with other things. My uni work, spending more time with Noah, working extra shifts at the diner so I could treat him to cool experiences any kid should be able to have. And it was good. It was stable and I knew exactly how to play this little game I've assembled of my life. The rules were straight forward, all I had to do was follow them with certainty and it would all work out okay. 

Conor came after all of the self assessment bullshit. He's amazing, Noah seems to really like him which I'm thankful for. Especially since I was worried how he'd take to me seeing someone new after...everything. Tonight he was staying at a friend's house for a sleepover, and I was of course busy taking orders, delivering meals and wiping tables at the diner. 

The night was beautiful. The sun was only deciding to retire for the day. It's gradual decent causing the pallet of bright reds and dusty oranges to blend elegantly with the stretches of yellow in the distant. I distracted myself with the view for a while, dusting the already shining floor over and over to have a better view out of the windows. Until eventually the vibrant sky seeped into a darker, deep concoction of blue and black. The moon resurfaced from the shelter of the day's blanket and sat perfectly positioned in between the grey, hazy clouds. 

The diner bell rang to catch my attention of a customer and I reluctantly made my way back around the counter. A warm smile met me as I saw him walk through, his eyes cheery and lively as always, carrying a single red rose in his hand. I shook my head and returned his smile, staring down unintentionally at the flower before forcing myself to look back up at him.

Y/n: Is that for me?

Conor: Of course. A beautiful rose for a beautiful girl.

I scrunch my nose playfully at his over the top compliment, but he just chuckles and leans over the counter, kissing my cheek softly.

Conor: When can you finish up here?

He asked me glancing around the diner. It wasn't as busy as previous days, the faint noise of cutlery hitting plates played its usual song around the place.

Y/n: Not that long.

Conor: Good because I have something I want to ask you when you're done.

I raise my eyebrow and slip into the kitchen before carrying out two plates of food and handing them over to an elderly couple by the window, smiling softly as I made my way back to Conor.

Y/n: Why don't you just ask me now?

I ask as I whiz past him to collect more plates and dropping them off at different parts of the diner. He follows loosely behind and scratches the back of his neck before he starts to speak again.

Conor: Well it's quite important.

I sneak a quick glance at him before I return to our conversation with full focus and stood before him.

Y/n: What is it?

He licks his lips and takes my hand in his, feeling the softness from the soap I was using in the kitchen, smiling as he mapped his way around the skin with his fingers.

Conor: My sister is engaged.

I saw the glint of happiness in his eyes. That genuine sibling love and content he gained from the happiness of his sister. It was amazing to watch, rewarding even.

Y/n: Wow. That's awesome, tell her congratulations for me.

He smiles and nods and squeezed my hand tighter.

Conor: I will. But that's not what I wanted to talk about.

Y/n: Okay, well what is it?

Conor: My sister is getting married, and I want you to come to the wedding with me.

I slipped my hands out of his at an instant, stumbling backwards from the shock and catching my off guard.

Y/n: Conor I've never even met your family before.

Conor: I know but-

Y/n: And the wedding, I mean it's going to be ages in the future right?

Conor: Yeah, but I mean, I thought it would be a nice way for you to get to know my family. And they've been dying to meet you anyway and with the way things were going with us I thought that we wouldn't have to worry about our future so it wouldn't have been an issue. Unless...you worry about our future?

Tears sprung at my eyes and they grew tired from holding the pressure of keeping them restrained. But the weight of it a got to me, and I blinked, the water fell down my cheeks, quickly brushed away by my hand. Conor's eyes sunk to the floor, not knowing where he could safely rest them.

Conor: I get it.

Y/n: No Conor please...

Conor: It's fine Y/n, I just...I don't know I thought we were on the same page with us.

Y/n: I know, I'm sorry, I'm trying I just...

Conor: It's him isn't it?

He finally looked up at me again, shielding his tears behind his ocean blue eyes.

Y/n: What?

Conor: Your ex. The one you never wanted to talk about. Is it because you still love him?

His voice sounded like a broken recorder. Like he couldn't get his words out without breaking in the middle of his sentence.

Y/n: Conor...

Conor: Please Y/n...I've told you I love you. And I meant it with the sincerity of my entire heart. But when you say it back to me, it feels like you're speaking it to someone else. I just want to know Y/n, please, do you really love me?

My answer gave him what he wanted, but still didn't at the same time. I watched him walk out, remembering the last time I let something so good leave my life. I just silently sobbed as my eyes followed him out, caressing the rose in my hand as probably my last piece of him left. The door bell jingled once more and I turned around wiping the tears and hoping my eyes weren't stained red. I gathered myself before turning back around, looking at my apron to adjust the tightness as I spoke still occupied with the knots I was making behind my back.

Y/n: Hi what can I get you?

Tom: Just the usual please.