“I looked across to his picture on the wall, the one that showed him with a pained look on this face, with a bleeding heart painted on his chest. I knew exactly how he felt.”

“Heart broken-he felt a deep ache in his chest, like that of a sore muscle, and each beat of his heart pained him”

“If there was a way to recognize something you'd never seen but still knew by heart, I felt it as I looked at his face. Finally, someone understood.”

“I'd see him do things that didn't fit with his face or hands, things like painting a picture at OT with real paints on a blank paper with no lines or numbers anywhere on it to tell him where to paint, or like writing letters to somebody in a beautiful flowing hand. How could a man who looked like him paint pictures or write letters to people, or be upset and worried like I saw him once when he got a letter back?”

“HE was standing across the street, staring at her with a look of shock and dismay. One look in Oliver's eyes and she knew he knew. But how? How could he have known? The'd been so careful to keep their love a secret. The grief etched all over his face was too much to bear. Schuyler felt the words catch in her throat as she crossed the stree to stand in front of him. "Ollie...it's not..." Oliver shot her a look of pure hatred, turned on his heel and began to run away. "OLIVER, please,let me explain..”

“His lips were parted, lids heavy. This moment might not be about him and me, about two bodies unified in pleasure or anything profound, but goddamn he looked good. Looked exactly as he felt— strong and big and one hundred percent in control. And I felt exactly as he surely saw me, a hungry vessel, eager to please, at the mercy of his cock.”