“He was not quite sure how to phrase it, so he finally went with,haltingly, “I don’t enjoy being at the center of attention.”Her head tilted to the side, she regarded him for a long momentbefore saying, “No. You don’t.” And then: “You were always atree.”“I beg your pardon?”Her eyes grew sentimental. “When we performed our awfulpantomimes as children. You were always a tree.”“I never had to say anything.”“And you always got to stand at the back.”He felt himself smile, lopsided and true. “I rather liked being atree.”“You were a very good tree.” She smiled then, too—a radiant,wondrous thing. “The world needs more trees.”

“I love you, too,” she said.He took her face in his hands and kissed her, once,deeply, on the mouth. “I mean,” he said, “I really loveyou.”She quirked a brow. “Is this a contest?”“It is anything you want,” he promised.She grinned, that enchanting, perfect smile that was soquintessentially hers. “I feel I must warn you, then,” shesaid, cocking her head to the side. “When it comes tocontests and games, I always win.”“Always?”Her eyes grew sly. “Whenever it matters.”He felt himself smile, felt his soul lighten and his worriesslip away. “And what, precisely, does that mean?”“It means,” she said, reaching up and undoing the buttonsof her coat, “that I really really love you.”

“Did you know that when we were kids Cass used to tell me your stories? She used to laugh at you. Not in a mean way, but in the way that Cass used to laugh at everything before...." He gestures around us at our world now. I shake my head. "I thought Cass never liked my stories. Never remembered them." "Oh yes, I would beg her to tell me if she had new stories from you." "Why didn't you ask me yourself?" I whisper. "Because you were Harry's," he responds. "Not always." "Yes, always," he says. "Always in his eyes," he adds in a softer tone.”

“Me? I want you to be sure." he said."You," Livia whispered. "Me." His eyes were full of intent. "Always you." Livia gave him her biggest, heartfelt smile. "Five hundred." Blake touched her face as if she might be a mirage and smiled back only when she didn't disappear.”

“He smiled his dimpled smile. "Well, I've found something in my heart, my love, and it's you. You fill it up so completely that I don't need anything else." His gaze turned solemn. "I don't want to be the river anymore. I want to be the earth that the tree roots in. And I believe that I can, if you'll be my tree. Will you?"It was too much. She began to cry, though she smiled so he'd know that they were happy tears. "That proposal...is vastly superior...to your last one," she choked out between sobs. "I would very much love to be your tree."-Jarret and Annabel”

“Lance told me his father didn’t think much of him. “He wishes I was better. More better. At everything. I don’t do anything right, you know, Stevie. Nothing.” He said this matter-of-factly. He believed it as truth. Polly told me her father never said anything nice to her, but she kept trying as hard as she could to make him pay her some attention. “He always says, ‘Don’t get fat as your mother has,’ but I don’t think Mom’s fat at all, but I try not to eat much, but he keeps saying it to me. Do you think I’m fat, Stevie? When my hair is messy do you think I look like a stray...”