“You like being in love with someone who’s not going to love you back.” She opened her eyes. He looked at her. “Why would I like that?” she asked. He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Lincoln?” she asked.“Yes?”“Do you believe in love at first sight?”He made himself look at her face, at her wide-open eyes and earnest forehead. At her unbearably sweet mouth.“I don’t know,” he said. “Do you believe in love before that?”Her breath caught in her throat like a sore hiccup.And then it was too much to keep trying not to kiss her.”

“Don’t ever apologize for being you, Andie.” She opened her eyes and turned to him. He was looking at her, and there was such conviction and sincerity in his expression that Andie felt like she was going to break under the weight of it.”

“Who are you in love with?" I said then.For a minute Marco didn't say anything, he simply opened his mouth and breathed out a blue, vaporous ring."Perfect!" he laughed.The ring widened and blurred, ghost-pale on the dark air.Then he said, "I am in love with my cousin."I felt no surprise."Why don't you marry her?""Impossible.""Why?"Marco shrugged. "She's my first cousin. She's going to be a nun.""Is she beautiful?""There's no one to touch her.""Does she know you love her?""Of course."I paused. The obstacle seemed unreal to me."If you love her," I said, "you'll love somebody else someday.”

“Why did you refuse to marry me then?” he demanded.She should be quiet; she should just stay mute. But she was angry and hurt. Only moments before he’d been saying such lovely things; now he was being horrible. “Why can’t you help yourself?” she countered, shouting back.“What?”“Why are you compelled to come after me?” she demanded, setting her hands on her hips.For a moment, he just stared at her as if she was daft.“Because I love you,” he finally said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.“What?” She’d waited to hear him say those words for what seemed like an eternity, and now he’d said them just as casually and unconcernedly as he might have said, “I like that dress” or “Spot is a good name for a dog.”“Because I love you,” he repeated. “Why else would I?”“I don’t know. Because you’re mad?” she suggested. How dare he say he loved her here, in such a manner, with so little fanfare?He was watching her carefully. “You seem upset.”“Oh. Do I?” she asked sweetly. Behind her, the horse shifted uneasily. Smart horse. “Perhaps it’s because I do not believe you.”

“What else? She is so beautiful. You don’t get tired of looking at her. You never worry if she is smarter than you: You know she is. She is funny without ever being mean. I love her. I am so lucky to love her, Van Houten. You don’t get to choose if you get hurt in this world, old man, but you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choices. I hope she likes hers.”