“All I wanted was a little piece of life, to be married, to have children. [...] I was trying my damnedest to lead a conventional life, for that was how I was brought up, and it was what my husband wanted of me. But one can't build little white picket fences to keep the nightmares out.”

“Besides, I can't get to where I want to go by conscious or unconscious suicide. I've got my strange little life to lead. Leading it the best I can - that's how I buy the ticket to where I want to be.”

“I don't know where life will lead me, but I know where I've been. I can't say what life will show me, but I know what I've seen. Tried my hand at love and friendship, but all that is passed and gone. This little boy is moving on.”

“She wants the kids, the cars, the house, and the white picket fence. I said sure, I can give you a fence.”

“I’m not what you want.” The words came out strangled because a lump had formed in Maia’s throat.Jack’s brows drew together in a frown. “What the fuck, Maia?”She cleared her throat and sipped on her wine before continuing, “I’m not what you want. You want a quiet life. The white picket fence. The woman who’s safe at home. That’s what you want.”Jack looked at her steadily, his expression inscrutable. “You’re right,” he said, and Maia felt her heart break a little. “That’s what I want. I want to take care of my woman, I want that quiet life.” Jack leaned closer and cupped Maia’s face gently with one hand, using his thumb to tip her chin up to him. “Babe, that’s what I want, but you are what I need.”

“I think, How small my life seemed then. How little I wanted for myself. How little I expected of myself and those who claimed to love me.”