Joe’s shoulders sag with relief. He shakes his head. There’s still an invisible barrier between us. I’m glad it’s there, humming, reminding us not to get close.

“Okay. Good. This is good. So you love me and I love you. Case closed. Move back to Massachusetts, and we’ll pick up where we left off in Spain. It doesn’t have to be complicated,” he says.

Rubbing at my forehead, I look around the room. “What’ll people think?”

“That we look cute together?” he drawls coolly.

“No one will accept us as a couple.” I get flustered. “I wish things were easier. If only Dom had known that I was your Everlynne—”

“Actually, I thought about that,” Joe says, cutting me off. “On the plane on my way here. I’m pretty sure he knew.”

“Knew? What do you mean?”

He takes my hand and pulls me to the edge of the bed. We plop down. His eyes are sharp and alert. Maybe even a little manic.

“Dom had the memory of an elephant. Mom always joked about it. He remembered everything,” Joe says. “Birthdays, historical dates, random people we went to school with. And I talked about you a lot.”

“You’re saying he knew who I was when we met and decided to pursue me anyway? To spite you?” Suspicion drips from my voice. Dom wasn’t a saint by any stretch of the imagination, but he wasn’t purposefully malicious either.

Joe shakes his head. “No. Not to spite me. I think he realized after the fact that you are Everlynne. My Everlynne. He put two and two together shortly after we met Christmas Eve.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Small things that happened after Christmas. When I said I should have brunch with you and get to know you, he told me he’d tag along so you wouldn’t feel ambushed. He hardly ever spoke about you around me, when before he would go on and on about you. I think the engagement was a way to make it a done deal. Dom usually wasn’t one to rush into things.”

I process everything that he is saying. Now that I think about it, Joe is right. Dom did seem a little off about things after we got back from his parents’ after Christmas. And the proposal did come as a surprise.

Oh my God. Did Dom find out?

“But . . . why?” I whisper, feeling deflated and beaten. This makes no sense. None at all. “Why would he do this to us?”