“I believed she'd gotten past ther hatred of me, turning to pity instead. But how could I make that into love?”
“Oh, God, if that's where this woman had gotten her Sophie Mercer gossip, I was surprised she'd greeted me with a handshake instead of an exorcism.”
“Was that pity? I think it was. No wonder, I even pity myself. Will the pity make her love me? Make her take me home with her and look after me like the plant? Fucking bastard smug plant.”
“When their love was not reciprocated, it could quickly turn to violent hatred.”
“How could I ask for a better friend? Someone who gives me a backup plan. Instead of someone who makes me the backup plan.”
“But how could you believe me? After all the thousands of times I told you I loved you, how could you let one word break your faith in me?”