Head Fake

You knocked on my door. I said come in and was surprised to see you. I was even more surprised when you closed the door.

You sat on my couch, folding your hands and leaning forward. Your face was serious. Even concerned. I thought perhaps you were going to ask me for my forgiveness. I thought of all of the ways I would give it, could give it. It would mean so much.

You said you had a question to ask me, and I didn't have to answer right away. I played it off light and said go ahead, and I said thank you for your permission. I played it light-hearted as my heart heavy-thumped.

You asked me if I was friends with this girl. You knew I was. We were good friends, in fact. I said yes, and why?

You asked me if there was a way to help you get a date with her. You liked her a lot, you said. I wondered if this was some kind of test. I wondered, if I said yes, if you would say, "Congratulations. You have proven your love." I wondered, if I said no, if you would disappear.

I said sure and still pretended to be light-hearted, though my heart was in my shoes.

Today I saw a post from you online announcing your engagement to that same girl. I wonder if I'll be invited to join the bridal party, or if I'll be able to stay silent when the call goes out for objections.