“He understood that she needed some time to get used to "them." He didn't. He knew exactly what was happening, and he didn't need another week, another month, another year, to get things in perspective.He loved her. It was that plain. That simple.”

“He didn't want to go forward, but he always wanted to get another chance.”

“She remained silent. There was nothing left to say. He'd said it all the night before. He had to end it. He could never leave his wife. And, in fact, she had known this. Although she loved him - and truly she did - he wasn't hers. He belonged to his wife. She'd earned him. It didn't matter that he was her first love or that she was his passion. It didn't matter that they had loved one another for more than half their lives. It didn't matter that he had married his wife on the rebound. It didn't matter that he didn't love the woman. It didn't even matter that they had turned into some soap-opera cliche. He was married to someone else and that meant that she was leftovers and destined to remain on the periphery in the shadow of another woman's marriage. But no more. She was well and truly sick of it. ”

“He didn't use me like an object, because a thing didn't need to be mastered. He didn't use me like a slave, because a slave didn't need to feel wanted. He used me like a woman, hungry and desperate.”

“Jemu watched his father disappear. He didn't throw the coconut and he didn't cry. Never again would he know love for another human being that wasn't adulterated by another, contradictory emotion.”

“He took her in his arms right away. "I'm so sorry," he murmured in her ear. He rocked her, saying it over and over.But no matter how many times he said it, no matter how much she knew he meant it, the words stirred around in her ear but didn't get into her brain. Sometimes he could comfort her. Sometimes he said what she needed, but today he couldn't reach her. Nothing could.”