He’d known Lily forever. Or for as long as he could remember, which was basically the same thing.
Their mums were friends from before Conor and Lily were born,
and Lily had been like a sister who lived in another house, especially when one mum or the other would babysit.
He and Lily had only been friends, though, none of the romantic stuff they got teased for sometimes at school.
In a way, it was hard for Conor to even look at Lily as a girl, at least not in the same way as the other girls at school.
How could you when you’d both played sheep in the same nativity, aged five? When you knew how much she used to pick her nose?
When she knew how long you’d needed a nightlight after your father moved out? It had just been a friendship, normal as anything.
But then his mum’s “little talk” had happened, and what came next was simple, really, and sudden.
No one knew. Then Lily’s mum knew, of course. Then Lily knew. And then everyone knew. Everyone.
Which changed the whole world in a single day. And he was never going to forgive her for that.
Another street and another street more and there was his house, small but detached.
It had been the one thing his mum had insisted on in the divorce, that it was theirs free and clear
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