“How did you know?” I ask him instead of finishing my sentence. “How did you know you were in love with Corrine?”

Wes’s face turns serious and he props his elbow on our small table. He works for a start-up that promotes a “flexible work-life balance” but so far all that seems to mean is, he can fuck around with his sister at eleven o’clock on a Thursday but keep his laptop open for any incoming emails.

“That’s a good question.” He rolls the straw that had previously been stuck up his nose back and forth over the table.

We’re going to need someone to come wipe down this whole place with bleach.

“It’s hard to say. When I look back on it now, it feels like I was always in love with her. From the very first meeting when she thought I was a total asshole.”

“That’s not very helpful.”

He laughs. “No. It’s not. I don’t know how I knew that I loved her. I just know that one day I woke up and I wished Mom was alive. I mean, I always wish Mom was alive but that morning I wished she was alive so she could meet her.”

I nod. My stomach hurts. “Yeah.” I shrug. Of course I’d want Mom to meet Sophie.

“I know how I know I’m still in love with her though,” he says. “Corrine makes me feel like a Saturday in July at Fenway. When I’ve had exactly one beer. And one hot dog with mustard.” He gets a far-off look in his eyes. “And you’re there and Jer’s there and the Sox win.” He shakes his head, smiling. “Yeah. That’s how I know.”

“Wesley,” I say, my face gravely serious. I cover his hand with mine. “Never tell your girlfriend that she makes you feel like baseball, okay?”

He laughs, throwing his head back. At least three people stop to watch him be obnoxious. “What’s your favorite thing in the whole world?”

“I couldn’t possibly pick one favorite thing in the whole world. My favorite what? Favorite food? Favorite sport?” But even as I deny it, I can see it. Or feel it, more like. Warm sun, the green haze of my apartment in the morning. Breakfast.

“Baseball, a beer and a dog, and Fenway Park. That’s my favorite thing in the whole world. Corrine makes me as happy as my very favorite thing. Happier, actually. She’s like...” He rubs his chest. “Hot dogs and a sunburn and laughing and that...” He clucks his tongue in an audible imitation of a bat hitting a ball. “Crack the bat makes. She makes me feel what all those things feel like, right here.”

The back of my throat burns, the first warning that I’m going to cry on this uncomfortable wooden bench in a chain restaurant. “Don’t you have to go pee?” I ask, looking out the steamy coffee shop window.

He sits for a moment before he gets up, leaning across the table to kiss the top of my head, because he is a good brother despite being a little bit gross and obnoxious. He knows when to leave me to have my Emotions.