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He hardly blinks and just stares at me, waiting. And I keep him waiting intentionally. Keeping my face as blank as I can while I figure out how I actually feel about this.
I should be angry, feel betrayed, but for some reason I don’t. I feel calm, relieved that I finally know.
"Cassidy?" He calls.
He hasn't touched any of the food I made, instead he has been pouring his heart out. Talking without pause for longer than he’s ever done before.
"Cassidy, please talk to me," he says in a low desperate voice.
I put my juice down and look up at him and at last meet his gaze.
"It makes sense," I say nodding. And it did.
All the things I thought didn't add up about Ethan make sense now. I now knew why he was chasing me so relentlessly. How he always had me weak in the knees with the dates he planned, the things he said and all the thoughtfulness behind his gifts.
Everything felt too good to be true because it isn’t true. He had an end goal in his sights and even though I didn’t, I knew from the start that this wasn’t the beginning of my forever with him. The expiration date just came sooner than I expected. I couldn’t have guessed any of this, but I know I should have seen something like this coming.
"I should’ve figured it out myself. You told me as much when we first met, but somewhere along the way I forgot all about it," I admit.
Ethan sighs, he is obviously still waiting for the roof to cave in on him. At least he's making himself a plate; a generous portion of eggs, bacon and pancakes.
He piles them onto his plate mindlessly, he is tightly wound up. On high alert, waiting for the penny to drop, for me to rage and cry over his betrayal.That’s not how it’s going to happen, I am prepared this time. It isn’t like the heartbreaks I’ve had before. I expected too much before, now I have no expectations. I can’t be disappointed.
"You figured out my favorite things, worked those things into our dates, gave me a new experience, what other coincidences did you plan?" I ask, smiling at him over my glass.
Ethan is tense. His shoulders are raised close to his ears and his body is stiff.
"You don’t have to do this," he says through gritted teeth.
I don’t know what else to say anymore, how to convince Ethan that I’m actually okay with how things happened between the two of us. I just can’t be crushed again. I can’t go back to being miserable, especially not over something like this.
I sigh and reach across the table to hold his hand, assure him.
"I'm not angry, Ethan. Like I said, I really do get it and your theory obviously works. I just want to know how exactly it works," I explain.
Ethan knits his eyebrows and looms at me, staring as if to read my mind.
"Cas, it's okay to be mad. I did a really terrible thing to you. You didn't deserve it. You get to be angry," he says in a slow deliberate voice.
"But I'm not angry," I say, "I'm intrigued. When you first told me your theory I thought it was absolutely rubbish, but not only does it work. It worked on me."
I can tell Ethan is still not sure about what I'm saying. He looks at me suspiciously waiting for me to explode.
"Look, I read into the science and the psychology of this theory. I realize now that I neglected the ethical aspects of doing something like this," he admits, still not telling me what I want to hear.
"Why does it matter how love comes about? Whether everything happens on its own, or someone makes it happen; it's still love," I explain.
Ethan sighs. "How is it still love? Isn't love supposed to come naturally?" he asks.
I'm surprised that Ethan has suddenly become a puritan when it comes to love. First he said love could be manufactured and now he is arguing that it shouldn’t be.
"Love is love, I don't think it matters how it comes about," I shrug.
"I don't get it," Ethan says, slowly unwinding.
He looks more like the Ethan I had come to know. More confident and sure of himself.
"I'm just saying love is always a good thing no matter how it comes about," I answer.
