“Layne knew he was in love with her. Not only that, he’d never stopped loving her. Not once, not for a second, not for twenty-one years.Fuck him.”

“<…>Days before, seconds after she told him she wanted to have breakfast with her husband and he liked hearing her say that, he liked it too fucking much, he fucked up. Then he kept fucking up. Then he kept fucking doing it. He knew it and he couldn't stop. Then, the instant she pressed her mouth to his, her soft body in his lap, overwhelmed with emotion and sharing that with him he lost control and he knew he couldn't do that. And the only way he could manage to keep control was to stay the fuck away from her, her sweet smiles, her soft voice, her brightness, that fantastic fucking body. He couldn't hold up. So he stayed the fuck away from her and spent a lot of time thinking about how to encourage her to stay the fuck away from him.<…>”

“But between these two men she loved, both in one way or another holding her close always, Clarisse Haines knew she would never fall.”

“For the first time in twenty-two years after the jaw tilt, Feb didn’t take her eyes off him. And for the first time in twenty-two years, he gave her a smile.”

“Shy burst out laughing. When he quit, he saw she was smiling up at him.and it hit him.All of it.Waking up to her. Going to bed with her. Making love to her. Eating with her. Laughing with her. Kissing her. Going shopping with her, and when she was in a store and wandering away, he saw her looking over the racks, looking for him, and when he came to her at her back, she'd turned to him, looking lost, and leaned into him the second he got there, suddenly found.Jesus, he had it.All of it."I never dreamed any fuckin' dream," he whispered, and the smile faded from her face as tears filled her eyes.She understood him."Shy-""Didn't dream it, saw it, waited my time, and then you gave it to me.""Shy," her voice broke on his name.He looked into her blue eyes swimming with tears, feeling her fingers digging into his shoulders, her weight in his lap, the smell of her hair, the taste of her still on his tongue.Yes, he fucking had it.When he was twelve he lost it.Now he had it again.All of it.Everything.”

“Last night, instead of sleeping,he just lay behind her, listening to her breathe and thinking that sound was sweeter than any song he’d ever heard her sing. And his Stella had a beautiful voice, never heard better.”

“Layne walked up to him and put both hands to his son’s neck, giving it a firm squeeze, he looked him in the eyes and whispered, “Fucked up with you, know it, but you’re a fuckin’ good kid despite that and, even though I didn’t have much to do with it, I’m proud of you.” He gave his son’s neck a gentle jerk and finished. “Love you, Bud.”