“He’d try to keep it light. “Kate, if you’re going to call my border collie your baby every time you see her, maybe we should marry and make the poor dog legit.”

“Problem is, you can’t accept that his relationship had a real short shelf life. You’re like a dog at the dump, baby – you’re just lickin’ at the empty tin can, trying to get more nutrition out of it. And if you’re not careful, that can’s gonna get stuck on your snout forever and make your life miserable. So drop it.”“But I love him.”“So love him.”“But I miss him.”“So miss him. Send him some love and light every time you think about him, then drop it.”

“You were joking about the whole please and thank you thing, right?""Meant every word." A little light danced in his eyes and he very deliberately said, "Baby."No.He laughed. "You should see your face right now.""Don't call me that.""Would you prefer 'darling'? Or maybe 'cupcake'?" He winked.”

“I can’t help but notice that you keep writing love poetry to my wife. Well, you see, I married her, which makes her my wife. You know what you might want to try? Writing some poems about the sunset. The sunset isn’t fucking married.”

“She looked up, her face pink as a Christmas ham. “You ever try chasing down a car?” she gasped. “I’ll one-up you. I gave Scott my hot dog and asked if he’d go to Summer Solstice with me.” “What does the hot dog have to do with anything?”“I said he’d be a wiener if he didn’t go with me.” Vee wheezed laughter. “I’d have run harder had I known I’d get to see you call him a wiener.”

“The Castle. He’d seen this expression far too many times during their marriage. The Castle was Bryony drawing up the gates and retreating deep into the inner keep. And he’d always hated it. Marriage meant that you shared your goddamn castle. You didn’t leave your poor knight of a husband circling the walls trying to find a way in.”