“I missed you, Angel. Not one day went by that I didn't feel you missing from my life.”

“I like you in my bed,” Patch said. “I rarely pull down the covers. I rarely sleep. I could get used to this picture.” “Are you offering me a permanent place?” “Already put a spare key in your pocket.” I patted my pocket. Sure enough, something small and hard was snug inside. “How charitable of you.” “I’m not feeling very charitable now,” he said, holding my eyes, his voice deepening with a gravelly edge. “I missed you, Angel. Not one day went by that I didn’t feel you missing from my life. You haunted me to the point that I began to believe Hank had gone back on his oath and killed you. I saw your ghost in everything. I couldn’t escape you and I didn’t want to. You tortured me, but it was better than losing you.”

“I miss you. No, not just miss you, my heart aches every day because you’re not there.”

“I miss you,” he said softly ... “I miss the feeling of completeness I have when you’re in my arms. Do you ever feel that way? Like a part of you is missing when we’re apart.”

“You haven’t missed me for one fucking minute. You have never for one single second in your entire pathetic fucking life missed me. You might have missed fucking with my head, and you might have missed the satisfaction you so clearly got from demolishing me, but those are your emotions you’re missing, not mine. I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

“I missed you all my life,” Kylie said. “Ididn’t know I missed you, but I know it now. You were supposed to bethere.”