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I mean, I understand if you want to cut communication with me from now on, but… Wouldn’t you like to give us at least a small chance?
The core of my being shakes and sways, and I feel overwhelmed by that simple suggestion:give us a small chance.
I keep staring at my phone, feeling the weight of his words.
What should I say?
I type and retype and can’t come up with an appropriate response.
After a solid minute, I drop my phone back on the counter and decide to finish up with dinner before replying. But then dinner is served, and I decide to eat first, and then reply.
I brush my teeth and go to bed, and I stare intently at my phone until falling asleep. I wake up and read his latest text:Have a good night, Livand bring the phone close to my heart, falling back to sleep with a small smile on my face.
I promised myself that I would reply first thing in the morning, but I can’t. He messages me a good morning, good afternoon, and good night, religiously, for three straight days. Then one fateful Thursday night, I finally muster the courage to reply to his text.
Hi Alex,I text him as I lay in my bed for the night and then wait in anticipation.
After a short while, his reply comes.
Am I in trouble?
Why would you ask that?I respond, puzzled.
Whenever I get the silent treatment, it usually means I did something wrong…and a sad face shows up alongside his remark.
I smile, and then shake my head, knowing he’s feeling guilty without a reason.
You did nothing wrong. I just got into some deep decision paralysis.I confess to him, my heart racing.
And now it’s over?he texts back.
A little.I hit send.
Alright, let me ask you this, then: is Bella around?
No, she went out with a guy. Why?My curiosity peaks as I see him typing his response.
Can we do a video call?
After reading his latest text, my eyes grow wide, and I drop my phone over the blankets.
For a while, I leave the phone precisely where it falls, but when a new message arrives, I don’t resist the urge to check it.
Can we? It’s okay if you don’t want to. I just want to see you and talk.
My mind reviews the series of events that led me here: we met at his party, where he acted like Prince Charming, but rejected me on vague grounds; turns out he’s my best friend’s brother and my infatuation would only make things complicated, but now he inserting himself back into my life, and I’m unable to resist his charms for the love of God.
Without realizing it, I press the button for the video call. My heart races so fast I think it’s going to explode, but then he appears on screen, in a t-shirt and with an office wall behind him, smiling a smile so sexy that it fills my stomach will butterflies.
“Hi!” I say nervously, with a stupid smile on my face.
“Hello,” he says with a sexy grin. “Are you still mad at me?”
He teases, but it strikes a chord. I bow my head, shaking it in playful denial.
“For some reason I can’t stay mad at you, I mean… Unless you ask to see my boobs, you’re safe.”
“That I’d prefer to see in person, but I digress—” he says, full of sass, and I’m already giggling like a maniac, a completely nervous wreck.
