Somehow, the calendar has slipped into September. I only realize summer is nearly gone when my phone buzzes with an alert to pay the rent. I was busier than ever at Brooklyn Jewels. A beloved reality star got engaged with one of our pieces in June, which instantly spurred a flood of orders for identical rings. Meanwhile, the shop’s Instagram following ballooned, which translated into my spending more and more hours glued to my phone, replying to comments and keeping up with the steady stream of DMs. We’re actually making real money. The influx of business makes me feel hopeful about the company’s future—but every day that goes by is another day closer to the deadline to re-sign or give up the storefront’s lease, and another day closer to a wedding that seems increasingly impossible to pull off without a cooperating groom.

My relationship with Blake has hit milestone after milestone: we’ve met all of each other’s friends; he’s met my family; we’ve traveled together for a weekend getaway. We’re moving frighteningly fast. But the more boxes we tick, the more obvious it becomes to me that we have so many more milestones to hit before an engagement. Don’t serious couples swap keys? They definitely have spent more than forty-eight consecutive hours together. I’m still anxious about peeing too loudly in his apartment.

There are moments when I consider telling him the full truth about our relationship. More often than I’d like to admit, I feel guarded around him, and I can’t help but believe that’s because I’m hiding a massive secret. The longer I hide it from him, the harder it is to fathom a point when I can tell him the truth. But if I never set the record straight, I fear he won’t ever understand who I really am.

I almost came clean to him the night he met my parents. They drove down from Maine one Friday in August to pick me up the day before my uncle’s retirement party in Connecticut. I arranged for Blake to join us at dinner. He and my parents were all running late, so I sat by myself at an empty table for fifteen minutes, nervously rereading the menu and second-guessing the entire evening. I had been with Holden for more than a year by the time we were ready to meet each other’s parents. Was this new relationship strong enough, by comparison, to merit meeting after five months? I was halfway through texting Blake an excuse for why he shouldn’t show up after all when he arrived. My parents walked through the door less than a minute later. I had no choice but to introduce everyone like nothing was wrong. Blake charmed both of them within minutes, of course. My mom giggled flirtatiously when he shook her hand.