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I make it clear that I want to talk, but I try not to make it seem like an emergency.

The entire time I’m waiting for her to knock on the door, I’m sitting on the couch bouncing my knees.

I’ve planned exactly what I’m going to say, but when I hear her knock, it all leaves my head.

I stand up, hands trembling, and head to the door.

“Everything is fine, man…chill out,” I mumble to myself, and then shake my head. “Chill out? How? What am I…?” I take a breath. Icannotget into it with myself right now.

Somehow, I manage to mostly compose myself before opening the door. Lena is standing there with her brow knit in concern, but she smiles softly when she sees me.

“Ethan, I’m sorry we couldn’t meet at my place. I thought Kelly was staying out later,” she explains.

I shake my head and usher her inside before closing the door.

“It’s fine. Can I get you something to drink?” I ask her, and immediately regret it. Offering her a drink means she’ll be here even longer. If she says yes, should I wait to talk to her until after she finishes her drink?

“No, that’s okay. I brought my water,” she insists, much to my relief.

I watch her take her coat and shoes off, feeling as though I’m standing there quite awkwardly, so I walk over to the couch.

The atmosphere feels even more tense than the other night she was here. Only this time, putting on a movie and ordering Chinese food can’t fix things.

“So what do you want to talk about?” she asks me as she sits down and pulls one leg up onto the couch.

My eyes dart to her festive black-and-orange slouchy socks. Right—tomorrow is Halloween, one of her favorite holidays.

Fuck. I seriously suck.

“Ah, well…it’s about what we discussed the other night, actually,” I tell her, thinking that bringing up that conversation is the best way to start this.

“Oh, that’s great,” she says with a smile, but it’s restrained, and I can still see the anxiety in her pretty eyes.

She’s so pretty. So sweet.

My stomach hurts.

“We can talk about anything you need to. Did you research anything, or figure anything out?” she asks.

I fidget with the hem of my T-shirt. “Sort of.”

It’s quiet between us for a moment, and Lena’s expression shifts.

“Lena…you’re so kind, beautiful…so incredibly intelligent and hardworking,” I tell her. “You’re one of my best friends,” I add, my throat tight.

“This conversation isn’t ending with me meeting your parents in December, is it?” she asks, her already nervous expression falling even more.

My eyes start to burn, but I hold the emotion back as best as I can.

I can’t cry, especially not in front of her.

I shake my head. “You deserve someone who can give you what you need, touch you how you want to be touched, love you how you want to be loved. I can’t give that to you.”

She scoots closer to me and gently places her hands on my arm.

“Is this about not wanting to have sex? Sure, I enjoy it, but I told you I’m willing to work something out.” Her voice is shaky.

Seeing her getting emotional only makes my own chest tighter and the tears in my eyes heavier.