“Tm going to try.” “Thank you.” “Tm really going to try.” “Great.” “But Evelyn, I don’t think I can. Just knowing that you were... when you slept with Mick, I was sick for years afterward, thinking about the two of you together.” “I know.” “And you slept with Harry, God knows how many times,” she said. “I know, honey. I know. But I’m not sleeping with Don.” “But you have slept with him. You have. When people watch the two of you on-screen, they will be watching something the two of you have already done.” “It’s not real,” I said. “I know, but what you’re saying to me is that you are prepared to make it look real. You’re saying you’re going to make it look more real than anything else any of us have done so far.” “Yes,” I said. “I guess I am saying that.” She started crying. She put her head in her hands. “I feel like I’m failing you,” she said. “But I can’t do it. I can’t. I know myself, and I know this is too much for me. I'll be too sick over it. Ill make myself ill thinking of you with him.” She shook her head, resolved. “I’m sorry. I don’t have it in me. I can’t handle it. I want to be stronger for you, I do. I know that if the tables were turned, you could handle it. I feel like I’m disappointing you. And I’m so sorry, Evelyn. I will work forever to make it up to you. I'll help you get any part you want. For the rest of our lives. And I'll work on getting there so that the next time this happens, I can be stronger. But . . . please, Evelyn, I can’t live through you sleeping with another man. Even if this time it only looks real. I can’t do it. Please,” she said. “Please don’t do this.” My heart sank. I nearly vomited. I looked down at the floor. I studied the way two planks of wood met just under my feet, how the nailheads were just the littlest bit sunken in. And then I looked up at her and said, “I already did it.”