Chapter 51
Ethan's POV
It was my mom's message asking if I was coming home this weekend.
Not Emily. Never Emily.
I typed out a quick response and set the phone face-down on the table, trying to ignore the way disappointment sat heavy in my chest.
"Everything okay?" Sarah asked, voice soft with concern that felt invasive even though she was just being nice.
"Yeah, fine." I picked up my phone again, checking one more time just to make sure I hadn't somehow missed a notification. But there was nothing.
"Dude, seriously," Connor said, leaning forward with an expression that was half concern, half exasperation. "Put the phone away. She's not texting you back."
"You don't know that."
"I know you've checked it like twenty times since we sat down." He reached across the table like he was going to take it from me, and I pulled it back instinctively. "Come on, man. You're sitting here with a girl who's actually interested in you, who's actually present and engaged and not treating you like you're some obligation she has to fit into her schedule. Maybe try enjoying that for five minutes?"
He wasn't wrong. Sarah was there, actively choosing to spend time with me, asking questions and laughing at my stories and making it very clear she'd like this to go somewhere beyond pizza. And it should have felt good to be wanted this obviously, this uncomplicated.
But it didn't feel good. It just felt wrong. Like I was betraying something.
The pizza arrived and I forced myself to eat, to participate in the conversation, to nod and smile when Sarah told some story about her chemistry lab partner. Connor kept the energy up, filling silences with his usual charisma, but I could feel him watching me with this expression that was equal parts frustration and pity.
After about twenty minutes of me being completely checked out despite my best efforts, Sarah excused herself to the bathroom. The second she was out of earshot, Connor leaned forward.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean. There's a cute girl practically throwing herself at you and you're sitting there like you're at a funeral. If you're this miserable, why'd you even come?"
I didn't have a good answer for that. "I shouldn't be here."
"Because of Emily?" He said her name with an edge that made it clear what he thought of the situation. "The Emily who's apparently so busy with her fancy new internship that she can't even spare five minutes to text her boyfriend back? That Emily?"
"It's not like that."
"Then what is it like? Explain it to me, because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're in love with someone who doesn't give a shit about you anymore, and you're so hung up on her that you can't even see when other opportunities are right in front of you."
The words hit harder than they should have, maybe because there was truth buried in them that I didn't want to face. "She's not—she does care. She's just busy. She's building something important and I need to be supportive of that."
"Supportive is one thing. Being a doormat is another." Connor sat back, shaking his head. "Look, I'm not trying to be a dick here. I just hate watching you torture yourself over someone who clearly doesn't value you the way you value her. You're a good guy, Ethan. Star quarterback, decent grades, good future ahead of you. You deserve someone who's excited to hear from you, not someone who treats your messages like they're optional homework she'll get to eventually if she feels like it."
Sarah was making her way back from the bathroom, and Connor lowered his voice. "I'm not saying you have to do anything with Sarah. But maybe consider that if Emily's not fighting for you, not making you a priority, not even bothering to respond when you put yourself out there... maybe that's telling you something you need to hear."
Sarah slid back into the booth, closer than before, and launched into some question about what it was like being team captain. And I tried. I really tried to be present, to engage, to give her the attention she deserved for showing interest in me when my girlfriend couldn't be bothered to acknowledge my existence.
But every word felt like I was forcing it through concrete. Every smile was performance. Every second I sat there felt like another small betrayal of something I couldn't quite let go of, even though I was starting to suspect it had already left me behind.
We finished eating and Connor paid—"my treat for getting our star QB out of his cave"—and we walked back to the truck in the warm evening air. Sarah lingered by my door, playing with her hair in that universal signal of hoping for more.
"This was really fun," she said, smiling up at me. "Maybe we could do it again sometime? I could give you my number, if you want."
And I should have. I should have taken her number and thanked her for the evening and kept my options open because Emily was clearly keeping hers open and why should I have been the only one still playing by rules that apparently didn't apply anymore. But I couldn't. Even then, even after everything, I couldn't.
"I appreciate the offer," I said, keeping my voice gentle because she didn't deserve to be caught in the middle of whatever mess Emily and I had created. "But I really do have a girlfriend. And until that changes officially, I can't... I'm sorry."
She nodded, disappointment clear on her face but not surprised. "She's lucky. I hope she knows that."
The words twisted something in my chest because I wasn't sure Emily did know that. Or maybe she knew and just didn't care because she had bigger priorities now, better options, a future that didn't include someone like me.