"I'm sorry about Dad," Melissa said as we were getting ready for bed. "I'm sorry about the whole evening, really. I should have warned you that they were having a disagreement."

"It's fine." I was right. "Do you think they liked me?"

"I think so. You may just need to watch what you say around Dad."

I nodded. Judging by the way I was completely ignored after dinner by their parents, she was probably lying through her teeth, but I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Her mom seemed to agree with me. I could deal with her dad and I not seeing eye-to-eye.

The whole house eventually fell silent and dark, but I found myself unable to sleep. I couldn't just get up, though - Melissa and I were sharing her bed. Getting up would probably wake her up. I didn't know if she was a hard sleeper or a light sleeper, and I didn't want to find out the hard way.

I picked up my phone instead and checked it. Once all of my notifications had been cleared off, I still didn't feel tired enough to sleep. Normally, I'd get up and walk around, watch some TV or YouTube, and try again. After a while, I heard someone in the kitchen and decided to get up and just say I was going to the bathroom if Melissa woke up. 

Very slowly, I scooted out of bed and checked. She was lightly snoring and rolled to the middle of the bed as soon as I was out of it. I rolled my eyes. How was I supposed to get back into the bed now? 

Pushing that thought aside, I quietly made my way to the kitchen to see who was there. Soft strains of music drifted into the hallway and a soft glow from the cabinet lights showed someone standing at the stove. As I got closer, I recognized the tousled hair and strong arms. 

"Midnight snack?" I asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Andy turned to look at me. "Ramen. Want some?"

I nodded. "I'm surprised your parents keep some around."

"It's contraband, so don't tell them." He smiled at me, eyes glinting. "Nah, we eat it from time to time when Mom doesn't feel like cooking or when we're looking for something light. She grew up on the stuff and made sure we had it if we wanted it."

I walked up to him and leaned my head on his shoulder. He turned and wrapped his arms around me. As the water on the stove heated, he rubbed my back and I nuzzled his chest. I felt safe and at peace. His smell surrounded me and I felt myself relax. The music playing changed to something with a faster tempo and his hands moved to my waist as he gently began swaying us to the rhythm. 

His hand slid down my arm and our fingers laced together. We stayed that way until the song ended. He pulled back a little and gave me a quick peck on my lips. "Give me a minute and we can sit in the living room," he said quietly. I nodded and took a step back. While he cooked his noodles, I went and sat on the sofa.

After a while, he sat next to me and we chatted about random things until I fell asleep on his shoulder. We slept, leaning on each other, the whole night. I didn't wake up until the smell of bacon began permeating the room. 

That night was what I kept going back to. When I needed reassurance, I relived it all in my mind and heart.

At the start of all of this, I told you that love is pain. I know that so far it's all been like a dream. It's been like a cold glass of water on a hot day. Still, everything in love seems destined to end. 

After that trip with his parents, I felt like we were going to make it. I thought we had made it to the point where we could cope with whatever was thrown at us. As I watched our seventh month pass by, I was feeling better about us. As we neared the eighth month, though, I noticed that I was slowly seeing less of him. 

"I haven't heard you talk about Andy recently," Eric mentioned one day. We were at the coffee shop, just hanging out. He sipped his iced mocha while I stared down at my iced latte. 

"He just hasn't been calling me as much," I said. Which was true, but not the whole truth. When I hadn't heard from him in a week, I texted him to see if he was okay. He said he was just busy at work, so I let it go. Now, though, it had been close to two weeks and I was getting suspicious. It was summer break, but I kept telling myself that this was a busy time of year for him.

"Why not?" Eric studied me.

I shrugged. "He's probably just busy."

He took a long sip as he eyed me. I knew he knew I was covering for Andy. We'd known each other long enough at this point that we could tell when the other was being less than honest. He sat his drink down and looked me in the eye. "Are you okay with that?"

It took me a moment to process his words. They were much more pointed than usual. I bit back my automatic response - of course I am - and actually gave my answer some thought. I wanted to know he was okay. He didn't need to text me every single day, but letting me know everything was okay every other day or so would have been appreciated. Disappearing for two weeks made me anxious and wonder if maybe, just maybe, he was cheating. "I'm not, but there's not much I can do about it since he doesn't respond to me," I answered after a long moment. 

"You shouldn't let him yank you around," Eric said after a long moment. He leaned back in his seat with his coffee and looked out the window next to us. "You're worth more than that." His voice was so quiet that I barely heard him. He looked back at me. "Are you going to let him keep on making you anxious? I've been noticing that something's wrong. It's getting obvious."

I stared at my coffee for a moment before meeting his eyes. "I want to give him the benefit of the doubt. If he says he's busy, then he's busy. Anything more than this, and I would be acting like I don't trust him."

Eric studied me before sighing and setting his coffee back down. He reached over and touched my hand, surprising me. "I don't want to see you get hurt, but it's starting to feel like you can't avoid it at this point." He paused. "I know you love him, but does he really love you the same way?"

Anger began to boil inside. He was my best friend, but suspecting my boyfriend doesn't love me? That was a bit too far. "Could you not? Look, he gets busy and forgets to text-"

"For two whole weeks? That's not just forgetting. Not after eight months."

I closed my eyes, took a breath, and opened them. "He forgets to text, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care as much for me as I do for him."

He sat his mug down. "Have you forgotten to respond to him for days in a row? Have you let a day go by where you haven't thought about texting him to check in?" I couldn't deny it, so I didn't respond. He still took my silence as an answer. "Thought so. Look, sometimes even the most romantic relationship can fail. Relationships can fail six months, a year, or more after they begin. It doesn't mean you or the other person failed. It just means that it wasn't the right fit."

I looked at him for a long moment leaning in closer. "We are the right fit." I pulled my hand away. "He's simply busy. I'll get over it. It's my problem." When he didn't answer right away, I picked up my coffee cup and stood. "I should get going. Melissa said she'd meet me at the mall."

After I left, I started to feel bad about what I said. We both had good points that we made, and he was only trying to look out for me. Still, I didn't respond to him for days. I wasn't trying to be petty. I really wasn't. I was only defending the man I loved. 

As days passed and it was about to be three weeks I hadn't heard from Andy, however, I was beginning to wonder if maybe Eric was the only one with good points.

That weekend, Andy finally called me. "Hey babe," he said, sounding sleepy. I looked at my clock. It was barely ten. "How are you?"

"I'm okay. Just worried about you. It's been a few weeks." I pushed my laptop off my legs onto my bed and sat up. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Just tired. I got a promotion and I'm in charge of a bunch of people, so I'm learning the job. Before I knew it, I looked up and it had been forever since I talked to you. It's good to hear your voice."

I smiled. "It's good to hear you, too." I hesitated before I said the words that had come rushing to my lips. "I love you."

He huffed into the phone and I could hear the smile. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

My spirit sank, but I tried to not let him hear it in my voice. "Nothing, really. Want to spend some time together?"

"I wish I could, but I don't have time. I'm working all week."

"Maybe I could come over in the evening or-"

"No, I'm too tired to entertain a guest. Look, I'm going to hang up. I'm tired and I don't think you're understanding me. I don't know if it's on purpose or if you're just too young to get it, but I'd rather do this after I rest some. Night, babe." He made a smooching sound into the phone and hung up.

Tears stung my eyes, but not nearly as bad as his words stung me. It was the first time he'd talked like that to me. I didn't know how to take it. Was he genuinely upset with me? Was he just tired like he said? Was I still some outsider that needed to be entertained? Hadn't we crossed a line when I went with his family on vacation? Did my presence wear him out? 

I tried to not let it get to me too much. After I cried about it and fell asleep, I got up the next morning determined to be a good girlfriend, one who is understanding and devoted. More than that, though, I wanted to take care of my man. 

He didn't call or text the next morning, so I waited until the evening and invited myself over. I went right to the guest house where he'd moved and knocked. The only light in the kitchen went out and I knocked again. He was home. I'd seen the light go out. Yet he didn't open the door. I felt my heart sink. He'd meant it when he said he didn't want me over.

As bad as it hurt to feel like I'd been rejected - like I'd been slapped across the face - it didn't compare to how things turned out. If I'd known then how it would all work out, I would have sent the text asking if we'd broken up instead of erasing it and trying unsuccessfully to sleep when I got home. 

There's a few things I would have done differently that night. That was just one. The warning signs were all there when I look back on it. I can't believe how blind I was. Love is like that, though. It keeps you from seeing the truth, even when it should be obvious. 

I'm not saying no one should fall in love; we all deserve to feel that rush. No, I'm just trying to warn you. If someone had warned me then, I think the next part of this story would have turned out a bit differently. But it is what it is.

---

Word Count: 2063