Nathan had always prided himself on being patient. He was the quiet one, the listener, the one who observed without interference. But patience, he realized, was becoming a cruel form of torture when it came to Sarah.
The distance between them had only grown since that fateful day at the carnival. Sarah and Lewis had started spending more and more time together. It was subtle at first—a coffee here, a movie night there—but soon it became evident. They were a team, an inseparable unit. And Nathan? He was the third wheel, forever on the sidelines, watching as the girl he loved drifted away.
He tried to tell himself it was just a phase. Maybe Sarah and Lewis were just close friends, he thought. But every day, as he watched them laugh together, share secrets, and steal glances that Nathan could never have, the truth sank deeper into his chest. It was over. He was losing her—and he had no idea how to stop it.
It wasn't just the time they spent together that hurt. It was the way she looked at him now, like she was pitying him. Sarah had always been full of energy, her laughter infectious, but now, when she spoke to Nathan, there was a lingering sadness in her eyes—a sadness that made him feel like an outsider in his own life.
"Hey, Nathan, are you okay?" Sarah's voice broke through his thoughts one afternoon as they sat together on the old park bench they'd frequented since high school.
Nathan forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."
Sarah raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "You've been distant lately. Did I do something wrong?"
The question hit him like a punch to the gut. He'd been so careful to keep his feelings hidden, to play the part of the good friend, that he never considered how it might affect her. She thought something was wrong with her. And she was right—there was something wrong. It was him, and it was his silence.
"I'm fine," he repeated, his voice strained. "Really, I am. It's just... everything's been a little overwhelming lately."
She nodded slowly, but Nathan could see the worry in her eyes. She was looking for something—an explanation, maybe, or a glimpse of the old Nathan she used to know. But he couldn't give it to her. Not when the truth threatened to tear them apart.
Over the next few weeks, things only got worse. Sarah and Lewis became even closer, and Nathan's jealousy began to simmer beneath the surface. It wasn't fair. Lewis had everything—the confidence, the charm, the boldness to pursue Sarah without hesitation. Nathan had none of that. All he had was the quiet love he'd kept hidden for far too long.
One evening, when Sarah called him to hang out, Nathan hesitated. He had a bad feeling, an instinct that told him this would be the moment he couldn't take anymore.
"Hey, Nathan, are you coming over? We're gonna watch that movie we talked about," she said over the phone, her voice light and carefree.
"Sure, I'll be there in a bit," Nathan replied, his heart heavy. He didn't want to go, but he couldn't bear the thought of her being with Lewis alone. Even though it was selfish, he couldn't stop himself.
When he arrived at Sarah's house, the familiar warmth of the place made his heart ache. She was already there, sitting on the couch with Lewis. Her smile faltered when she saw Nathan, but she quickly recovered.
"Nathan! You're here! We were waiting for you," Sarah said, her voice filled with enthusiasm. She patted the seat next to her.
But Nathan couldn't bring himself to sit down. His eyes flicked to Lewis, who was lounging on the other side of the couch, looking entirely too comfortable. The sight made Nathan's stomach churn.
"I'll stand," he muttered, forcing a smile. "No big deal."
Sarah's brow furrowed. "Are you sure? You know, you can sit here with us. It's more fun when we're all together."
But Nathan knew it wouldn't be fun. It hadn't been fun for a long time.
As the night went on, the tension between the three of them was palpable. Sarah and Lewis laughed and joked, while Nathan remained quiet, lost in his thoughts. He wanted to be happy for them, truly, but all he could feel was the deep ache of watching the woman he loved fall deeper in love with his brother.
Halfway through the movie, Sarah leaned over to Nathan and whispered, "You seem so distant tonight. What's going on?"
Nathan's heart skipped a beat. She noticed. He'd been careful, but she had noticed. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but they stuck there, as they always did. The truth—his truth—was too much to say. So he pushed it all down, swallowed his emotions, and offered a faint smile.
"I'm just tired, Sarah. Nothing to worry about," he lied.
She didn't look convinced, but she didn't press the issue either. Instead, she turned her attention back to the movie, laughing at something Lewis said. And Nathan, helpless as always, let himself fade into the background, wondering how much longer he could keep pretending.
As the evening drew to a close, Sarah walked him to the door. "Thanks for coming, Nathan," she said softly.
He nodded, his throat tight. "Yeah, thanks for having me."
But as he turned to leave, he heard Lewis's voice behind him. "You know, little brother, you really should stop holding back. You've got to tell her how you feel before it's too late."
Nathan froze, his hand on the doorknob. He didn't want to turn around, didn't want to see the smug look on his brother's face. But he couldn't help it.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Nathan replied, his voice low.
Lewis chuckled. "Oh, I think you do. But don't worry, I'm not going to get in your way. I already have what I want."
The words hit Nathan like a slap to the face. But before he could respond, Lewis was already walking back inside, leaving Nathan standing in the doorway, his heart torn between rage and despair.
That night, as Nathan walked home in the dark, he realized something. He had waited too long. He had watched for too long. And now it was too late.
Nathan's steps were heavy as he walked home, each one punctuating the dark silence of the night. He tried to push his thoughts away, tried to distract himself with the familiar sights of his neighborhood. But nothing could quiet the storm brewing inside him. His brother's words echoed in his ears: "I already have what I want."
That phrase gnawed at him, its meaning settling into his chest like a stone. Lewis had never been subtle, but this was different. There was a finality to it, a claim that left Nathan feeling small and powerless. Sarah was slipping through his fingers, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
As he reached his front door, he paused, staring at the dim light inside. His father had been asleep for hours, and his mother's voice was only a memory these days. He was alone, just like he always had been in his feelings for Sarah. Alone in his pain, in his frustration. Alone with a love that could never be returned.
Inside, the house was quiet, and Nathan felt the weight of his isolation. He tossed his jacket on the couch and sank into the chair by the window, staring out at the starless sky. He wondered if Sarah ever thought about him the way he thought about her. If she noticed the little things he did—the way he always made sure she got home safely, the way he stood by her side during every hardship. She always thanked him for being there, but that was it. There was never anything more.
His thoughts drifted to their shared moments—the long talks after school, the laughter during their walks through the park, and the quiet understanding that existed between them. Those moments had meant everything to him. But now, with Lewis stepping into the picture, Nathan felt like an intruder in his own memories.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
He stood quickly, wiping the back of his hand across his face to clear the tears he hadn't realized had fallen. When he opened the door, Sarah stood there, her eyes wide with concern.
"Nathan, can we talk?" she asked, her voice soft but insistent.
For a moment, he was frozen. He didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified. But eventually, he stepped aside, letting her in. His heart pounded in his chest, and the words he had been holding back for so long seemed to rise in his throat. This was it. This was the moment he could finally tell her.
But Sarah didn't give him a chance to speak.
"I know something's wrong," she began, pacing around the room. "You've been acting strange, Nathan. I can feel it. It's like you're pulling away from me, and I... I don't know why. Did I do something?"
Nathan swallowed hard. The lump in his throat threatened to choke him. He couldn't answer her—not yet. He had to think. He had to figure out what to say, how to explain the pain that had been festering inside him.
"Sarah, you didn't do anything," he finally muttered, his voice strained. "It's me... it's just... everything."
"Everything? What do you mean?" she asked, her voice trembling. She stepped closer, her hand reaching out as if to comfort him, but Nathan recoiled instinctively. He couldn't let her touch him—not when his heart was so raw, not when his feelings were so exposed.
"It's... it's Lewis," he blurted, before he could stop himself. "You and him... you're always together now. And I don't know how to deal with it."
Sarah blinked in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
Nathan turned away, unable to face her. "You're happy with him. You don't need me anymore. I'm just... I'm just your friend. That's all I'll ever be to you. And it's killing me."
He could hear Sarah's sharp intake of breath as she processed his words. For a long time, neither of them spoke. The silence between them felt suffocating, the distance between their hearts impossible to bridge. Nathan could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him, threatening to crush him under the weight of his own confession.
"I never wanted to hurt you, Sarah," he said quietly, his voice barely a whisper. "I didn't know how to tell you. I didn't want to lose you as a friend."
She was silent for a moment longer, and then she moved toward him. He could hear her footsteps, slow and tentative, before she placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Nathan," she said softly, her voice breaking, "I never knew. I had no idea you felt this way. I thought... I thought we were just friends."
His heart shattered at her words. She didn't know. She had no idea how much he'd given, how much he'd held back, all in the hope that one day she might see him differently. But now, as he stood there with her hand on his shoulder, he realized how foolish he had been. All the time spent in silence, all the moments he had kept his feelings locked away... it had all been in vain.
"I'm sorry," Sarah said, her voice full of regret. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I never meant for any of this to happen."
Nathan turned to face her, the tears he had been holding back now freely falling down his cheeks. "You didn't hurt me, Sarah. It was me all along. I let it happen. I let my feelings for you grow until I couldn't ignore them anymore."
She looked at him with sorrow in her eyes. "I never wanted to choose between you and Lewis. But I think... I think I'm in love with him. I've known it for a while now. I just... I didn't know how to tell you."
The words hit Nathan like a physical blow. He had known it deep down, but hearing her say it out loud made it real, made it final. She loved his brother. She had chosen him.
"I understand," he said hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just wish I could have been the one to make you happy."
Sarah reached out again, this time gently cupping his face in her hands. "You will be happy, Nathan. Just not with me. I hope you understand that."
He nodded, but his heart was breaking. This was the price of a heart—loving someone so deeply, only to watch them fall for someone else. He had tried to keep his feelings hidden for so long, but in the end, it hadn't mattered. She had chosen Lewis, and now he was left alone.
As Sarah stepped back, her expression full of sorrow, Nathan realized that there was no turning back now. This was the beginning of the end of everything he had hoped for.
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