Dom chuckles. “We’d been together since junior high. When she heard about the tests . . . that it didn’t look good for me . . . that I might have to start chemo again . . .” He rubs at the back of his neck. “Let’s just say she canceled the Christmas plans she’d had with my family and broke up with me on the same day. Said it was too much for her. That she couldn’t live with this fear, this cloud hanging over our heads. Mom didn’t take kindly to it. Now, as I said, this has nothing to do with you, but Mrs. G has been touchy about the subject of Christmas ever since. Especially when it comes to my partners. I haven’t brought a girl over for a holiday since. So when I told Mom I wanted to invite you, she got her hopes up. That was my fault, though, Lynne. Not yours.”

Even though he is assuring me that I can go to San Francisco, I understand the predicament we’re both in. There’s no doubt his mother’s reaction if I don’t go with him will be unwarranted, but someone once told me that people are merely a collection of their experiences. It’s not my place to judge her if she gets upset.

I grab his hand and press his knuckles to my lips. “I’ll come.”

“Lynne, please.” He gives me an embarrassed smile. Like maybe he shouldn’t have said anything.

“No, really. My dad . . . he’ll understand.” Just as I say that, a rush of relief rolls through me. I realize to my shame that it didn’t take a lot for me to neglect my San Francisco plans. Hearing about Dom’s distress was the final push, but I would prefer to spend my holiday with total strangers than with the family I single-handedly destroyed. As for Dad and Renn, they’re better off without me. I’d just spoil their Christmas and make things awkward for everyone. “I’ll deal with it. Don’t worry. Dom?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not Emily,” I say.

“I know.”

“I’m here to stay.”

“Sounds like your ninety-nine-point-nine-nine-percent nonmarriage prediction is more like a ninety-one percent now.” He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.

I lean over, grab his face, and kiss him. “And you know what else?”

“Hmm?”

Taking the plunge, I close my eyes and Band-Aid it. “I love you too.”

In the end, I use the coward’s way out.

I call Dad when I know he is at work. Specifically, when he is in his weekly partners meeting, and I leave him a voice message, pretending like I tried to get ahold of him.