We order room service and have sex while we wait for the food. The sex is great, and the generic burger with fries is divine. Then I send Dom downstairs to bring us the most uninspiring, common snacks he can find while I browse the pay-per-view movies the inn has to offer. When he comes back, we tumble into bed again, because there’s nothing sexier than a guy who brings you junk food. For a movie, I suggest we settle on a classic, but Dom insists we watch what I would watch if I were all by myself. I choose Parasite, since it won a bunch of awards, and because I love watching foreign films. It’s like winning a free trip somewhere.

The movie is great. Real and raw. But I can see Dom in my periphery dozing on and off. When the movie is over, Dom tries to sound excited about it, to show me he was into it too. “Holy crap, that was a ride, huh?” He rips a bag of M&M’S open and pours some into my hand. “The ending was . . . whoa.”

“Yup. It was a doozy. I liked it.”

His smile drops, and his eyes snap to my lips. “I like you, Lynne.”

I stretch in bed next to him, kissing his shoulder. “You’re not too bad yourself, mister.”

“Actually . . .” He hesitates. “I’m lying. I don’t like you.”

I sit up straighter, confused. We stare at each other. He looks sad. A little pale.

“You . . . don’t?” I ask.

“No.” He swallows, looking me in the eye. “I love you.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.” He grins.

Panic flares in my chest. It spreads to the rest of my organs. My heart is beating like crazy. The silence is too vast and too big and too loud, and the only way to fix it is to fill it with something equally as powerful as Dom’s declaration. But I can’t. I can’t lie to this man, who has been nothing but amazing to me. He deserves more than lip service. And I don’t love him. I’m almost there, but not quite.

“You make me feel like no one else does, Dom,” I say. Each word rings true. “You’re hope, personified.”

I can tell Dom is not satisfied with my answer. It’s not what I said that is wrong. It’s what I didn’t say. That I love him back. He draws me in, tousling my hair like a big brother.

“Thanks, babe. Now excuse me while I go chew some tobacco and do some lumbering to restore my masculinity.”

Desperate to make it right for Dom, and for Nora, and even a little bit for myself, I take his hands in mine. “When I was in second grade, all I wanted was to be Luke Kim’s girlfriend.”

Dom’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Okay . . . ?”