“I forced myself to stop thinking about it. I went to the room in my brain where all my thoughts about Adam lived and disconnected the electricity and boarded up all the doors and windows, so nothing could get out.Obviously it was very unsightly. There were bound to be complaints from the neighboring thoughts. But I had no choice.”

“And even before my brain, lingering in consideration of when things had happened and of what they had looked like, had sufficient impressions to enable it to identify the room, it, my body, would recall from each room in succession what the bed was like, where the doors were, how daylight came in at the windows, whether there was a passage outside, what I had had in my mind when I went to sleep, and had found there when I awoke.”

“In a strange way, I had fallen in love with my depression. Dr. Sterling was right about that. I loved it because I thought it was all I had. I thought depression was the part of my character that made me worthwhile. I thought so little of myself, felt that I had such scant offerings to give to the world, that the one thing that justified my existence at all was my agony.”

“My thoughts are really all I think about.”

“I wanted to get in the car and drive, just drive. Just get to you. That’s all I could think of, wasgetting to you. But I knew I had to sober up first. So I went out, to the beach. I thought if Iwalked awhile that might help. And it was cold, you know? The water was cold. I thought if Isplashed some on my face…well, if I took a swim. That would help. I thought I’d only jump in, get wet. I thought it would only take a few minutes and I could be on my way. To you.”His voice snagged like a burr on silk. Heat leaked from the corners of Bess’s eyes and slipped between her lips. Salt water. Always salt water.I was stupid,” Nick whispered.You didn’t know,” she whispered back.It took my feet out from under me. And all I could think of was how you were waiting, and I was going to fuck it all up again. How I was going to let you down.”

“Some time in the night I got up, tiptoed to my window, and looked out at my doghouse. It looked so lonely and empty sitting there in the moonlight. I could see that the door was slightly ajar. I thought of the many times I had lain in my bed and listened to the squeaking of the door as my dogs went in and out. I didn't know I was crying until I felt the tears roll down my cheeks.”