“Don’t steal anymore hearts,” he told me. “You’ve already got mine.”

“She always looks like she’s about to break into laughter. He always looks like he’s about to break into her house. I don’t care what he takes, so long as it’s me who steals her heart. I’ve already got a buyer lined up in Russia.”

“He exhaled loudly and raked a hand through the sable brown hair he always kept stylishly messy. "Look, Rose. You don’t have to keep up with the hard-to-get thing. You’ve already got me.”

“Okay, rule number one: if you do not understand something, you need to stop me and tell me you don’t understand. If I ask if you’ve got it and you say you’ve got it but you don’t really have it, then it’s not my fault that you haven’t got it. Got it?”

“You’ve already said all that. Don’t embroider on it, but prove it!”

“You’ve stopped crying. I’m glad. I don’t want you to cry anymore.”