16. Nate
Chapter sixteen
Nate
T he shrill beep of my alarm jolted me awake. I slapped it off and stared up at the ceiling, wishing I could hit snooze on life. Susan's silence was deafening. Five days without a text or call. My mind raced with questions. Was she okay? Did I do something wrong?
I dragged myself out of bed and shuffled to the shower, hoping the hot water would revive me. It didn't. I toweled off and threw on my usual button-down and slacks, but even getting dressed felt harder today.
At the hospital, I put on a smile and tended to a waiting room packed with sniffles and coughs. But my thoughts kept drifting to Susan. I found myself staring blankly at a chart, reading the same line over and over.
"Everything okay, Dr. Reynolds?" nurse Amy asked, her voice pulling me back.
"Hmm? Oh, yes, fine," I said, clearing my throat and refocusing.
After the morning rush, I headed to the gym, cranking up the treadmill faster than my usual pace. My frustration propelled me forward. Susan's distant demeanor weighed on my heart. Why had Susan said she needed space? Was she pulling away because of my history of fleeting commitments? We had connected so deeply at the picnic. Had I misread things?
Twenty minutes later, drenched in sweat, I admitted this wasn't helping. My emotions were still churning.
In the locker room, I changed and splashed cold water on my face. As I toweled off, my eyes caught my reflection in the mirror. The circles under my eyes betrayed my exhaustion. Susan's withdrawal was affecting me more than I wanted to admit. I had to tell her how I felt.
Before I could spiral further, my pager buzzed. A young boy in the pediatric unit was having a severe asthma attack. I raced upstairs, pushing my jumbled feelings aside.
"What do we have?" I asked calmly as I entered the room. The boy's mother looked at me desperately, her own breath quickening.
I put a hand on her shoulder. "It's going to be okay. I've got this."
Over the next hour, I focused everything I had on helping him slowly regain his breath. But part of me connected with that little boy fighting for air. I knew all too well what it felt like to gasp for breath, longing for relief.
After stabilizing the young boy's breathing and updating his relieved parents, I retreated to my office, exhausted both mentally and physically.
As I sank into my desk chair, I glanced at my phone sitting nearby.
Should I call Susan? Text her? My fingers itched to reach out, but I hesitated. Susan's silence over the past few days spoke volumes. She clearly wanted space from me, from us. What if she rejected my attempts to connect? The thought made my throat tighten. I didn't know if I could handle hearing her push me away.
A soft rap at my door startled me from my wandering thoughts. I quickly composed myself as Ethan poked his head in, a signature easy-going smile on his face.
"Hey man, you got a minute?"
I waved him in, hoping my face didn't betray my inner turmoil. But Ethan's smile faded as he looked at me.
"Whoa, you look beat. Rough day?"
I debated how to respond, rubbing my eyes. Ethan had been there for me through it all with Susan, and I trusted him like a brother. I decided that I could use an ear right then.
"Yeah, you could say that," I finally admitted.
Ethan nodded sympathetically. "Why don't we grab a coffee downstairs? My treat."
I managed a small smile. "That'd be great, thanks."
As we headed to the elevator, I felt my shoulders relax slightly. Regardless of what happened with Susan, at least I had a true friend in Ethan. For now, that would have to be enough.
We settled into a booth in the corner of the cafeteria. The low murmur of other diners' conversations surrounded us. Ethan handed me a steaming cup of coffee.
"All right, man, what's going on? And don't give me any of that 'I'm fine' BS. I can tell something's eating at you."
I stirred my coffee with a creamer, stalling. I had wanted to open up, but I felt vulnerable now and Ethan was too perceptive at times.
"It's nothing, really," I tried weakly.
Ethan just lifted an eyebrow. "This is about Susan, isn't it?"
I sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. There was no point trying to hide anything from him.
"Yeah. We haven't spoken in five days. After being so close on the picnic, she shut me out completely and said she needed space. I don't know what I did wrong."
Ethan listened intently as I told the whole story: the fake engagement, our deepening connection, the magical picnic and the peddle boat ride, and then radio silence ever since.
"I thought we had something real, you know? But now." I trailed off, emotions choking my words.
Ethan reached across and squeezed my shoulder. "Hey, don't give up hope yet. Susan cares about you. That much is obvious. Something must have spooked her."
"Spooked her? What could've possibly spooked her?" I couldn't hide the frustration in my voice.
Ethan shrugged nonchalantly, "Maybe she's just scared of how fast things are moving. Susan doesn’t seem like someone who would jump headfirst into things without analyzing them a thousand times first."
I ran a hand through my hair. "You're right. Susan is a fan of order and routine. And I respect that about her. I do. But it feels like I'm trying to navigate through a pitch-dark maze with no clues," I admitted, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me.
He leaned back in the booth, crossed his arms, and assumed his Dr. Phil persona. "Well, the first step is to get some lights on in that maze. Let me shine a light on what I have observed.”
With a knowing smile, Ethan reminded me of the couple's retreat we'd attended, where Susan and I had seemed like perfect soulmates. Our connection was undeniable to anyone who saw us together.
"You two just clicked," Ethan said. “Like magnets drawn together. The way you looked at each other and laughed at each other's jokes was special. Don't let that go without a fight."
"You're right," I said. "What Susan and I started, it's too rare and real to walk away from because of some misunderstanding. I have to try and make this work."
Ethan clapped me on the back. "There you go! Don't let fear or pride stand in the way of the love you two found. Go after her, Nate. Tell her how you feel. The worst that can happen is she says no, but at least you'll know you gave it your all."
More than ever, I felt the urge to see Susan. I wanted to look into her eyes and tell her how much she meant to me. I wanted her to know that no maze could deter me. Her need for analysis and caution didn't scare me. If anything, it intrigued me more. I loved that about her, and I needed her to understand that.
"Thanks, Ethan," I said, standing up from the table with renewed purpose. "I'm going to text Susan right now,” I declared. "We need to have an open conversation. I've given her space, but I don't want my silence to be mistaken for indifference. It's time we stopped hiding from each other and confronted our true feelings."
Ethan gave me an encouraging thumbs up. "Go get your girl! And let me know how it goes!"
I strode out of the cafeteria, phone already in hand. It was time for the truth. No more misunderstandings. I was all in, and I could only hope Susan felt the same.
I stared at my phone, contemplating what to say. How could I express everything I felt for her in a single text?
My thumbs hovered over the keyboard as I composed and deleted several drafts. Each attempt felt too formal or too casual or failed to capture the depth of my emotions.
Finally, I typed out a simple message:
"Susan, I hope you're well. I respect your need for space, but I want you to know that my feelings for you haven't changed. This past month and a half of getting to know you has been amazing. I miss you and our conversations.
You've come to mean so much to me. I believe we have something extraordinary, and I don't want any misunderstandings to stand in our way. Can we meet for coffee sometime soon? You decide on the place and time. - Nate"
I read over the words again, hesitating only a moment before pressing send. It was short, but it said what needed to be said. Now, I could only wait and hope she would respond.
The rest of the day dragged on as I compulsively checked for a reply. With each hour that passed in silence, my confidence wavered. Had I said too much? Not enough? Was I foolish to lay my heart so bare?
Doubt plagued me as I finished my shift in a daze. My thoughts stayed with Susan, replaying our times together: the way her smile lit up any room, the way her hand felt in mine, and the passion in her voice when she spoke of books. I had to cling to the hope that what we'd found was real.
After work, I went for a long run to clear my head. As the streets blurred past, I tried to focus on the positive memories Susan and I had made rather than the unanswered text. I had faith that if our connection was as real as I believed, we would find a way through this. I just needed her to meet me halfway.
Under the setting sun, I made a silent vow to myself. I would keep trying for us. I wouldn't give up without a fight.