“God, I miss you,” he said in a voice that cracked. “Every night. Every day…”

“His thumb went back and forth over the satin, as if he were rubbing her hip as he had when they’d been together, and he moved his leg over so that it was on top of the skirting.It wasn’t the same, though. There was no body underneath, and the fabric smelled like lemons, not her skin. And he was, after all, alone in this room that was not theirs.“God, I miss you,” he said in a voice that cracked. “Every night. Every day…”

“You're the reason I get out of bed every night. And you're the reason I can't wait to come home every dawn. Not the war. Not the Brothers. Not even Butch. It's...you.”

“I came to you, Jane. Every night this week, I came to you. I didn't want you to be alone. And I didn't want to sleep without you." -Vishous”

“Can I tell you something that I've thought every time I've woken up next to you." - V"Please"-Jane"You are the reason I get out of bed ever night. And you're the reason I can't wait to come home every dawn. Not the war. Not the Brothers. Not even Butch. It's. . . you." -V”

“You're a good Irishman, right?" When Butch nodded, V said, "Irish, Irish… let me think. Yeah…" Vishous's eyes sobered, and in a voice that cracked, he said, "May the road rise to meet you. May the wind always be at your back. May the sun shine warm upon your face and the rains fall soft upon your fields. And… my dearest friend… until we meet again may the Lord hold you in the palm of His hand.”

“I miss you.…” He stroked the indentation of the gown where her waist would have been—should have been. “I miss you so much.”