“The tour is done?” “Tour’s done.” Got it. I dipped my head in a nod. “Can you show me how to get to my section again?” Chuckling, he said, “You’re still not hungry?” He tapped my arm lightly. “I know how to make a mean Caesar salad, or you know, I might have some lasagna to heat up.” He was teasing. He was being kind. And it was the worst thing he could’ve done.