Joy is going to faint. She’s going to keel over from too much stimulation. Pulling out the chair she’s already holding, she carefully sits down and places her hands in her lap.

“Joy,” he reads, “the first time I saw you, I thought you were having a panic attack in your car—”

A manic giggle shoots out of Joy before she can stop it. “Sorry,” she whispers, covering her mouth again. The interruption seems to do the trick. He seems less tense now, like he suddenly remembered that she’s Joy, Queen of Laughing at Her Own Jokes. Absolute seriousness need not apply to this moment.

He continues, “I thought about helping you, but then you pulled it together and walked into Malcolm’s house. You know what happens after that. I don’t know a lot of people because I choose not to. I like to keep to myself. I like being alone. If I don’t have something to say, I don’t.” He pauses to inhale, shoulders moving as he does it. “I live in my head because it feels better there. Faster. I don’t have to wait for people to catch up to me when I’m already ten steps ahead. Hopefully, that makes sense.” He turns the page over. “Joy, when you walk into a room, it’s like I forget how to think. I can’t look at anything or anyone else. You’re so warm and so funny and so beautiful.

“I realized your mind races just as fast as mine does, except you’re loud about it. You don’t hide it. You’re not ashamed or frustrated by it. You embrace it. I love the way you dress, the way you laugh, the way you stare at me, your humor, your heart, your selflessness, how hard you try even when you know you might fail. I love spending my mornings with you. I like being alone with you. Everything about you is devastatingly wonderful and so unexpected. I even love the things I don’t like about you because they mean you’re not perfect. And if you’re not perfect, it means you’re real and not a dream. I think I see the difference now.

“I don’t care that you love Malcolm or that you will always love him. If the situation were reversed, I would never expect you to love only me. But I’ve seen how big your heart is, Joy. I can only hope there might be room in it for me too someday.”

Fox folds the paper and places it back into the notebook. “That’s it.” He stands tall, with his hands folded in front of him.