Page 38 of (Not Really) Faking It With My Best Friend's Brother

I debated how to respond, rubbing my eyes. Ethan had been there for me through it all with Susan, and I trusted him like a brother. I decided that I could use an ear right then.

"Yeah, you could say that," I finally admitted.

Ethan nodded sympathetically. "Why don't we grab a coffee downstairs? My treat."

I managed a small smile. "That'd be great, thanks."

As we headed to the elevator, I felt my shoulders relax slightly. Regardless of what happened with Susan, at least I had a true friend in Ethan. For now, that would have to be enough.

We settled into a booth in the corner of the cafeteria. The low murmur of other diners' conversations surrounded us. Ethan handed me a steaming cup of coffee.

"All right, man, what's going on? And don't give me any of that 'I'm fine' BS. I can tell something's eating at you."

I stirred my coffee with a creamer, stalling. I had wanted to open up, but I felt vulnerable now and Ethan was too perceptive at times.

"It's nothing, really," I tried weakly.

Ethan just lifted an eyebrow. "This is about Susan, isn't it?"

I sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. There was no point trying to hide anything from him.

"Yeah. We haven't spoken in five days. After being so close on the picnic, she shut me out completely and said she needed space. I don't know what I did wrong."

Ethan listened intently as I told the whole story: the fake engagement, our deepening connection, the magical picnic and the peddle boat ride, and then radio silence ever since.

"I thought we had something real, you know? But now." I trailed off, emotions choking my words.

Ethan reached across and squeezed my shoulder. "Hey, don't give up hope yet. Susan cares about you. That much is obvious. Something must have spooked her."

"Spooked her? What could've possibly spooked her?" I couldn't hide the frustration in my voice.

Ethan shrugged nonchalantly, "Maybe she's just scared of how fast things are moving. Susan doesn’t seem like someone who would jump headfirst into things without analyzing them a thousand times first."

I ran a hand through my hair. "You're right. Susan is a fan of order and routine. And I respect that about her. I do. But it feels like I'm trying to navigate through a pitch-dark maze with no clues," I admitted, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me.

He leaned back in the booth, crossed his arms, and assumed his Dr. Phil persona. "Well, the first step is to get some lights on in that maze. Let me shine a light on what I have observed.”

With a knowing smile, Ethan reminded me of the couple's retreat we'd attended, where Susan and I had seemed like perfect soulmates. Our connection was undeniable to anyone who saw us together.

"You two just clicked," Ethan said. “Like magnets drawn together. The way you looked at each other and laughed at each other's jokes was special. Don't let that go without a fight."

"You're right," I said. "What Susan and I started, it's too rare and real to walk away from because of some misunderstanding. I have to try and make this work."

Ethan clapped me on the back. "There you go! Don't let fear or pride stand in the way of the love you two found. Go after her, Nate. Tell her how you feel. The worst that can happen is she says no, but at least you'll know you gave it your all."

More than ever, I felt the urge to see Susan. I wanted to look into her eyes and tell her how much she meant to me. I wanted her to know that no maze could deter me. Her need for analysis and caution didn't scare me. If anything, it intrigued me more. I loved that about her, and I needed her to understand that.

"Thanks, Ethan," I said, standing up from the table with renewed purpose. "I'm going to text Susan right now,” I declared. "We need to have an open conversation. I've given her space, but I don't want my silence to be mistaken for indifference. It's time we stopped hiding from each other and confronted our true feelings."

Ethan gave me an encouraging thumbs up. "Go get your girl! And let me know how it goes!"

I strode out of the cafeteria, phone already in hand. It was time for the truth. No more misunderstandings. I was all in, and I could only hope Susan felt the same.

I stared at my phone, contemplating what to say. How could I express everything I felt for her in a single text?

My thumbs hovered over the keyboard as I composed and deleted several drafts. Each attempt felt too formal or too casual or failed to capture the depth of my emotions.

Finally, I typed out a simple message:

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