“Hardy didn't care where they went, as long as he was with her.”

“No. No games. He wanted her and didn't care who knew it. He definitely and absolutely wanted her, longed for her, wanted to do more things than there were names for with her.”

“What Hardy had found, however, was that he liked taking care of her. He liked being her knight in shining armor. He liked spending those few extra minutes with her. So he did.”

“He knew he would have to believe in order to go where she had been; knew that, if he believed, he could go there even if it didn't exist, if it was make-believe. He moved the hand she had drawn around her down her long flesh, and with a little sound she pressed herself against him. He searched himself for that old will, long in disuse. If she went there, ever, he didn't want to be left behind; wanted to never be farther from than this.”

“What Jack didn't understand was that no matter where he went, the same asshole got off the plane.”

“It wasn't okay. I didn't want her to leave. I didn't care if Jesus wanted her or not. She was my mommy. He could take an old mommy. One that didn't have little boys to take care of.”