Try to reassure him

“It isn’t that important that you don’t disappear, really,” you tell him. “It’s that I feel I’m wasting this opportunity by simply being a cute little nobody like Caroline Ma for the rest of my life. So you’re going to become the trophy wife or top model or some other spectacular chick who shows up at the hotel, and live out her life instead!”

“You’re exactly the sort of woman Grandfather suggested I be first,” he says. “In that letter you had no business reading, Ms. Ma. Very unprofessional for a hotel employee, Ma’am.”

You laugh at his insolence. “And I know exactly when to move on. When I’m an old lady who’s outlived her husband Ryan. Or maybe when I die of old age. I’m Caroline Susan Ma.”

“At least zap a woman like you so I can be her, Ms. Ma,” he says, and there’s the start of a whine in his voice. You’re so glad that you don’t have to be him, that you’re Carrie Ma for keeps!

“No promises,” you say. “Now, since you’re just a zipped-up suit, you should be able to concentrate and make your seam pop open — none of that tedious worrying at the little cyst in the neck.”

“Yes, I was part of you when you so unprofessionally read my letter, Ms. Ma,” he says, sulking.