“How can I be sure? Tell me something only you would know.” There went his hands to his hair again. And when that frustrated him, he did the fist thing. So far,he was very convincing. “You want trivia right now?”“Yes!” Why did he always make things so difficult? Add another check to the “He’s probably Gabe” list.“Like what?” I had to stop looking at his head. “I don’t know.What tattoo do I have on my left boob?”“I thought you said to tel you something only I would know.”

“No, Dan.”“And you want me to go.”I looked into his eyes. “No. I don’t.”He moved closer, encouraged, and put his hand on my shoulder. “Then what do you want, Elle?”“I want you not to have to settle,” I told him.“Is that what you think I’m doing?”“I know that’s what you’ll be doing. Because if you want more from me, you’re not going to get it.”He said nothing for a long time. “When I readThe Little Prince, I thought you must be the rose. You with your four thorns, convincing me you’re able to defend yourself. But now I know you hate roses. So you must be the fox instead.So maybe what you really want is for me to tame you.”From a lot of men, that speech would have made me laugh, or roll my eyes. Then again, a lot of men wouldn’t haveread Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s classic story ofThe Little Prince, or bothered to try and understand it.I reached for his hand and held it between both of mine. “The fox tells the Little Prince he is a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. Just like the flower was like a hundred thousand other flowers.”Dan tucked a strand of hair behind my ear with the hand I wasn’t holding. “But the fox asked the prince to tame him.To make it so they’d need each other and be unique to each other. And he did it.”“And then the prince went away, Dan, and left the fox bereft.” I looked down at my hands, holding his.“Would you be sad if I left you?” He asked me, and at first I wasn’t sure how I would reply.At last the answer came on breath as tremulous as a breeze wafting curtains from an open window.“Yes. I would.”He squeezed my hand. “Then I won’t.”

“How did you know to turn back?" I said.With his head still down, he said, "I waited for you.""But its a race. Why did you wait for me?"He lifted his head so that his eyes met mine. "I always wait for you." He took a deep breath, my ankle still in his hands. "I'm always waiting for you."In an embarrassingly breathless voice that didn't sound like my own, I said, "Because I'm so slow?"He smiled. "Yes. But not in the way that you think.”

“But how? How can you just get over these things, darling?...You've had so much strife but you're always happy. How do you do it?''I choose to...I can leave myself to rot in the past, spend my time hating people for what happened, like my father did, or I can forgive and forget.''But it's not that easy.'He smiled that Frank smile. 'Oh, but my treasure, it is so much less exhausting. You only have to forgive once. To resent, you have to do it all day, every day. You have to keep remembering all the bad things...I would have to make a list, a very, very long list and make sure I hated the people on it the right amount. That I did a proper job of hating, too: very Teutonic! No' - his voice became sober- 'we always have a choice. All of us.”

“He stared at me. "She liked you, boy." The intensity of his voice and eyes made me blink."Yes," I said."She did it for you, you know.""What?""Gave up her self, for a while there. She loved you that much. What an incredibly lucky kid you were."I could not look at him. "I know."He shook his head with a wistful sadness. "No, you don't. You can't know yet. Maybe someday..."I knew he was tempted to say more. Probably to tell me how stupid I was, how cowardly, that I blew the bestchance I would ever have. But his smile returned, and his eyes were tender again, and nothing harsherthan cherry smoke came out of his mouth.”

“Why would he bother? He has no more wish to wed than I.”“How do you know?” Anthony asked. “Did you ask him?”Her face heated, and Anthony covered his eyes. “Pray do not say another word. I don’t wish to know.”“Bridgeton had a choice, Sara,” Marcus said. “And he chose marriage.”“Get married or die. I vow, how did he make up his mind so quickly?”“I wanted to shoot him,” Anthony offered. “But Marcus would not allow it.”“You are both insufferable!”