A Blush of Realization

Chapter 14: A Blush of Realization

Ethan sat at his desk, tapping a pen against the table as he tried to focus on the reports in front of him. But his thoughts kept drifting to Emily. Something was off, and he couldn't shake the feeling. She'd been distant, almost cold, and it was driving him crazy.

John entered the room, carrying a coffee mug and looking far too relaxed for Ethan's liking. "Morning, boss," he said, plopping down into the chair across from Ethan's desk.

Ethan barely acknowledged him, muttering a distracted "Morning."

John raised an eyebrow. "Uh-oh. That's not your usual charming self. What's eating you?"

Ethan dropped the pen and leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "It's Emily."

John's curiosity piqued. "Ah, the wife. What's going on? Trouble in paradise already?"

Ethan shot him a glare but decided to let it slide. "She's acting… strange. It's like she doesn't care about anything—not me, not us, not even that night."

John leaned forward, his interest growing. "That night? You mean that night?"

Ethan's ears turned slightly red, but he nodded. "Yeah, that one. I thought it meant something, but she's acting like it didn't happen. Like it wasn't important."

John smirked. "Well, maybe she's just trying to figure things out in her own way. Women are complicated creatures, Ethan. They don't just fall head over heels because of one romantic moment."

Ethan frowned. "It wasn't just a moment. It felt… different. Real. Or at least I thought it did."

John tilted his head, studying Ethan. "You're taking this pretty seriously. Maybe you're more invested in this than you realize."

Ethan sighed, crossing his arms. "I don't know. I mean, do I even love her? Or am I just frustrated because she's not reacting the way I expected?"

John let out a low whistle. "Wow. That's deep, man. You've officially entered the 'self-reflection' stage. Welcome to the club."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the sarcasm. Really helpful."

"Hey, I'm just saying," John replied with a shrug. "If you're questioning your feelings, maybe it's time to dig a little deeper. Figure out what you really want."

Ethan leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "What I want is for her to stop shutting me out. I want her to talk to me, to let me in. But every time I try, she just pulls away."

John nodded thoughtfully. "Sounds like she's putting up walls. And let's be honest, you're not exactly Mr. Open-and-Honest yourself."

Ethan shot him a look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're both stubborn," John said bluntly. "You're expecting her to open up without showing her that you're willing to do the same. Relationships are a two-way street, my friend."

Ethan groaned, leaning back in his chair again. "This is exhausting."

John chuckled. "Welcome to marriage. Now, go figure it out before you drive yourself—and everyone else—crazy."

Back at Home

Later that evening, Ethan returned home, still mulling over his conversation with John. Emily was in the living room, curled up with a book. She glanced up when he walked in, her expression unreadable.

"Hey," Ethan said, trying to sound casual.

"Hey," Emily replied, her tone neutral.

He hesitated, then sat down across from her. "Emily, can we talk?"

She looked at him warily. "About what?"

"About us," he said, his voice steady. "I feel like there's this wall between us, and I don't know how to break it down."

Emily closed her book, her gaze dropping to her lap. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"I want you to be honest with me," Ethan said. "If something's bothering you, tell me. If you're unhappy, tell me. But don't just shut me out."

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. "It's not that simple, Ethan."

"Why not?" he asked, leaning forward. "Help me understand, Emily. I can't fix this if I don't know what's wrong."

Emily hesitated, then finally said, "I just… I don't know how to feel about any of this. Everything happened so fast, and I feel like I'm just along for the ride. Like I don't have control over my own life anymore."

Ethan's chest tightened at her words. "Emily, I never wanted you to feel that way. I thought… I thought we could make this work."

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his. "I don't know if we can, Ethan. But I'm willing to try."

Her words gave him a glimmer of hope. "That's all I'm asking," he said softly.

Meanwhile, Rosa

At her apartment, Rosa sipped her wine and smirked as she scrolled through her phone. "Looks like my little pep talk worked," she muttered to herself. "Now let's see if they can actually get their act together."

She chuckled, already planning her next move. Because if there was one thing Rosa loved, it was stirring the pot—just enough to keep things interesting.