I make myself coffee and then bring it to the table, and she walks out two minutes later with two plates. “I made spinach and feta omelets,” she says, putting the plates down and then coming back to the kitchen. “And bacon and some sausage.” She puts down two more plates and kisses my lips before she sits down in front of me.

“What time did you get up?” I ask her, looking at the spread.

“I think it was about an hour ago. I had some things to do,” she says and takes a piece of bacon and bites off a piece.

“Strange thing happened to me this week,” I say. “I came across this blog.” I look up at her and see that she’s stopped eating her bacon. “Really, really good blog. The Serial Dater.”

“Mark,” she says, and I shake my head.

“My question is are you going to change your name?” I ask her. “Because you aren’t a serial dater anymore.”

“How did you find me?” she asks me.

“Evan,” I answer her, and her mouth drops open. “He doesn’t know it’s you, though,” I tell her, and she releases a big sigh. “I take it no one knows?”

“Karrie,” she tells me. “She’s the only one who knows about it.”

“What about Matthew?” I ask her, and she shakes her head.

“God, no. It started as a joke, and then it just exploded, and I, well …” She puts her hands up.

“I never mentioned you by name.”

“I know. I read it,” I tell her, and she looks at me shocked. “Not everything. I stopped when it started talking about other men or, as you called them, conquests.”

“That was before,” she says, and I nod my head. “It’s not now.”

“I am going home for Christmas,” I tell her. “And I want you to come with me.” I watch her, and I don’t know what I’m expecting or, if I’m honest, I’m expecting her to come up with excuses.

“Mark,” she says, “what if your parents don’t like me?”

“What do you mean?” I ask her.

“Mark, I have no filter,” she tells me. “My best friend walked in and saw me on my knees, and I didn’t even care.” She laughs nervously. “What if I say something, and then they don’t like me?”

“One, I don’t think that my family will ever catch you on your knees, and …” I push away from the table and then hold out my hand. She gets up from her side of the table and walks over, sitting on my lap. “My family is going to love you.” I push her hair away from her face. “You know why?” She shakes her head. “Because I love you, so my parents will do what they need to do in order to love you, too.” I smile at her. “It’s the way it is.”