The Dreaded Text: The Calculated Distraction
You take a deep breath and shove your phone into your back pocket.
Celia is just panicking. I am not. You decide you need to hear his news first.
That's the logical, adult thing to do.
You send Dre a casual text back: "Wow! Can't wait. We need to celebrate when you land! Hit me up when you’re back."
The next 48 hours are an exercise in sheer emotional agony.
At work, your coworkers keep dropping lines like, "He's probably bringing home a new flame" or "You two are so close; he must be bringing you something!"
By Thursday night, you’re paralyzed.
You’re sitting alone, watching a terrible reality show, when Celia calls you.
"You haven't called him? Lana! You're gonna let him get snatched right out from under your nose! Call him! Ask him about this news!" she pleads.
"I can't," you whisper, clutching a cushion to your chest. "What if it really is that he’s dating someone?
What if he's happy? I can't ruin that."
You hang up the phone, still paralyzed by fear.
You’ve let your chance slip away.
You sit there, watching the darkness creep into your living room, the weight of your unsaid feelings pressing down on you.
Tomorrow is Friday.
Tomorrow he will walk back into your life and either confirm your greatest hope or your deepest fear.
What do you do?
CHOOSE YOUR PATH:
A. THE PRE-EMPTIVE STRIKE:
You decide you can't face that conversation sitting at home, waiting to be blindsided.
You drive to the airport early Friday morning, determined to meet him at the gate, interrupt his news, and force the moment before you lose your nerve entirely.
B. THE BOLD QUESTION:
You realize you need one last clue.
You send a quick text: "Excited for dinner, but one thing first: Does your 'exciting news' involve anything requiring me to buy a new dress?"
You demand a simple "yes" or "no," betting that his best-friend honesty will protect you from a face-to-face breakdown.
