“I don’t know what to tell you!”

“Maybe tell me why this dumbass made you a mixtape.”

“I don’t have the answer!”

We all stare at each other, at an impasse.

Cora looks away from me to grab the remote. “Let me hear this. I can’t even grasp what’s happening right now.”

Listening to the playlist makes everything so much worse. The thought of Ace listening to songs this gentle and writing down lyrics in correlation to me...

“I think I’m dying,” I say, knees weakening as I collapse against the couch. “This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, but with a whimper.”

“This is not the time to quote some dead old white man,” Cora grumbles.

“There’s never a time for quoting dead old white men,” Nandini adds, but her gaze is more tempered. “Karina, you heard those songs. You must’ve had some sort of realization.”

I throw myself face-first into the cushions and groan. I can’t handle the thought of Ace liking me back, not when I know nothing can come of it.

“Karina,” Cora whines, poking my rib cage. “This is Ace Clyde. He probably hates dogs, but he still likes you.”

“He does not hate dogs.” I look at her, disbelief momentarily staying my misery. “His dog is named Spade, and he’s very sweet.”

“I thought you were afraid of dogs,” Nandini says with a raised eyebrow. “How did you come to learn Spade is ‘very sweet’?”

“That is not the point!” I say, turning back toward the cushion. A barrage of memories burst like painful fireworks in my chest. The bakery, the bookstore, his honesty, my vulnerability, our secrets...

“I think that’s exactly the point, Karina.” Nandini joins Cora in her incessant poking. “You’re different with him. Bolder. Braver. Stronger.”

“You’re just saying random words right now,” I say. But I know they’re not wrong. The fire inside me that Ace loves to write soliloquies about is burning brighter than ever.

“You look so much happier,” Nandini says, reaching for my shoulder and forcibly turning me around. “You like him, don’t you?”

“I can’t.”

“But you do,” Cora says. “Admit it, Karina. You have a crush on Alistair Clyde. Maybe even more than that.”

I press my lips together, refusing to say anything. I haven’t said it out loud. Even with Samir, I denied it to the very end until everything blew up in my face.

If I say it to someone else, this becomes too real. The weight of my parents’ disappointment becomes soul crushing.

“He likes you,” Nandini says softly in response to whatever she sees on my face. “He likes you so much. Look at these candles. Look at this playlist. You couldn’t pay my ex-boyfriend to do that.”