Page 71 of The Five Stages of Courting Dalisay Ramos

Dalisay sits up and takes a breath, running her fingers through her hair again. “I’m just saying, living together is like … a promise. A huge one. The biggest promise you can make. It means we’re … real.”

“Aren’t we real right now?”

“Yes, but …” She’s not sure why she’s so hung up on it. Wouldn’t she want to marry Evan? Isn’t that what her subconscious has been preparing her for? Isn’t it so easy to imagine herself walking down the aisle and seeing Evan waiting for her at the altar? Her heart yearns for it, even now while he’s frustrating her.

But is she sure she’s not rushing into this? How can she be absolutely, one hundred precent positive that this is how it’s supposed to be?

Maybe it’s like Nicole said. Maybe she’s scared to jump into the deep end too. Scared that it changeseverything.

“I figured we could take what we have to the next level,” Evan says.

“But if we move in together, and if it doesn’t work out …” Dalisay can’t finish the thought.If. If. If.Damn that word. “If” is the one word that seems to define her whole life. She’s terrified of every good thing in her life having an expiration date. So then why is she holding back? Even she barely understands. She doesn’tnotwant it to work out. She has never been happier, so why does it feel like she’s suffocating every time she breathes? Everything is happening so fast, first with Nicole and now this. She can’t catch her breath.

Evan takes up his spot on the bed again, reaches over and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Hey,” he says, softly. He cups his hand against her face and turns her head to his, making her look at him. She melts into those big brown eyes and feels her body relax. “I love you, Dalisay.”

Is that the first time he’s said so out loud? Her heart beats like a jackrabbit.

Evan runs his fingers through her hair, looking at her with such tenderness and care. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“My family …”

“What about them? It’s not like I’m asking them to move in with me too.” He says it like he’s joking, but a pang of something white hot shoots through her.

“Did you not hear anything I said earlier? Where I come from, couples moving in together before they’re married is out of the question!”

Evan’s smile drops. “You were so worked up about Nicole, I thought maybe you wanted some independence.”

“Well, I don’t!” she snaps, more fiercely than she intended, and Evan leans back. It’s like she slapped him.

“You really don’t want to move in with me?”

“No!”

Evan looks hurt now. “Because you don’t want to marry me.”

Dalisay’s heart beats furiously in her chest. “That’s not why!”

“Then what?”

She stares at the ceiling rendered speechless, trying to find a reason that would make sense. Are they too different? Are they too swept up in the physicality of each other? Are they really compatible, or are they trying to shove a square peg into a round hole? No! She loves Evan, really, she does. But moving in is such a huge commitment. She can so easily picture her life with him here, but it just feels wrong. She is devoted to her family, wants to care for her mom. The filial piety is so engrained in her, it’s hard to describe, much like how it’s hard to describe why she loves her mom so much, despite her attitude toward Nicole. She just does, she just has to.

Words are her whole life, and for once, she can’t find the right ones.

When Dalisay doesn’t say anything, Evan throws his hands up. “Who cares what other people want, or what your mom wants? What doyouwant, Dalisay?”

Her throat tightens and the words come out hot. “This is what I’m talking about! You don’t know my family, you don’t know anything about where I come from. I’m not like you, and just because I say I don’t want to do something, it’s notbecause I only obey my family’s wishes. What I want is for them to be happy.”

“That’s not true! It’s always been about what your family wants, from the start, and you can’t even see that your family is mistreating your own sister, just constantly stuck in this”—he clenches his fists in front of him, searching for the words—“backward mindset. You can’t let other people control your life!”

Tears prick her eyes, and she holds her breath, smothering the urge to cry.

The color in Evan’s face fades, and something crosses his eyes in a split second that makes him drop his shoulders. He turns, walks away, and drags his hand down his face. When he looks at her again, his eyes are red. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Right, so everything about me is backward.”

He groans. “I meant, we’re in the twenty-first century! Why is living together such a big deal? I don’t get it!”

“Tradition is important to me! The Five Stages, all of it! Why isn’t that enough?”

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