The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

“But the thing is, type II error is bad, too.”
Her eyes bore into his, hesitant and urgent all at once. She
was frightened—so frightened by what she was about to say.
But also exhilarated for him to finally know. Determined to get
it out.
“Yes,” he agreed slowly, confused. “False negatives are
bad, too.”
“That’s the thing with science. We’re drilled to believe that
false positives are bad, but false negatives are just as
terrifying.” She swallowed. “Not being able to see something,
even if it’s in front of your eyes. Purposefully making yourself
blind, just because you’re afraid of seeing too much.”
“Are you saying that statistics graduate education is
inadequate?”
She exhaled a laugh, suddenly flushed, even in the dark
cool of the night. Her eyes were starting to sting. “Maybe. But
also . . . I think that I have been inadequate. And I don’t want
to be, not anymore.”
“Olive.” He took one step closer, just a few inches. Not
enough to crowd, but plenty for her to feel his warmth. “Are
you okay?”
“There have been . . . so many things that have happened,
before I even met you, and I think they messed me up a little.
I’ve mostly lived in fear of being alone, and . . . I’ll tell you
about them, if you want. First, I have to figure it out on my
own, why shielding myself with a bunch of lies seemed like a
better idea than admitting even one ounce of truth. But I
think . . .”
She took a deep, shuddering breath. There was a tear, one
single tear that she could feel sliding down her cheek. Adam
saw it and mouthed her name.