“His words! Damn him and his words! They make me forget that I care about anything.”

“Damn right. Now shut up, Donahue, and tell me that you'll spend the rest of your life with me."Matt pronounced his next words very carefully:"I do.”

“And about a thousand other things," he says, pausing sometimes between his words, making sure he has them right. I get the sense that words are not sufficient tools for him to build what's going on in his head as he stands before me.”

“Damn it all to hell," he muttered, banging his socket wrench on the metal cart behind him. "Because," he began, shifting his eyes over at me, "because you took his word over mine.”

“Why on earth had I agreed to this? Oh, that's right. He suckered me into it with his manipulating words and those damn dimples.”

“I didn’t say a word. I just stared at him. I figured I didn’t owe him an answer, and I was too proud to even talk. I didn’t want to tell him a damn thing about me.”