“Do you know what I was thinking earlier?” he asks. “When you left? I was thinking that I wish you hadn’t. I was thinking that I wished you’d stayed. And I was thinking, what am I going to do if she wants to stick to the plan? If, in a couple of days, she shakes my hand, and we go our separate ways. What the hell am I going to do? Because the thing is, the biggest thing I’ve realized is that this is real to me. All of it. The cabin. The party. You. Me. Everything. And I’ve been trying to figure out when it stopped being pretend, but I can’t put my finger on it. I think because a part of me has
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