“I am not okay. I will be okay, but right now I am not okay. I want my husband to put his arms around me, to console me, to baby me a little bit. Just for a second.”
“He promised to take care of me, and yet I feel afraid. I feel like something is going wrong, very wrong, and that it will get even worse. I don't feel like Nick's wife. I don't feel like a person at all: I am something to be loaded and unloaded, like a sofa or a cuckoo clock. I am something to be tossed into a junkyard, thrown into the river, if necessary. I don't feel real anymore. I feel like I could disappear.”
“It's so strange to think: A year ago today, I was undoing my husband. Now I am almost done reassembling him.”
“He has that look, like I am being unreasonable, like he is so sure I am being unreasonable that I wonder if I am.”
“I was told love should be unconditional. That's the rule, everyone says so. But if love has no boundaries, no limits, no conditions, why should anyone try to do the right thing ever? If I know I am loved no matter what, where is the challenge? I am supposed to love Nick despite all his shortcomings. And Nick is supposed to love me despite my quirks. But clearly, neither of us does. It makes me think that everyone is very wrong, that love should have many conditions. Love should require both partners to be their very best at all times.”
“Would you still love me if I killed someone?” I said nothing. My breath was coming too fast. “I would still love you,” Go said. “Go, do you really need me to say it?” She stayed silent. “I did not kill Amy.” She stayed silent. “Do you believe me?” I asked. “I love you.”