“It is such a secret place, the land of tears. That is what the narrator ofThe Little Prince says after the little prince argues with him the first time about matters of consequence. And he was right. My land of tears had been a secret for a very long time.”

“No, Dan.”“And you want me to go.”I looked into his eyes. “No. I don’t.”He moved closer, encouraged, and put his hand on my shoulder. “Then what do you want, Elle?”“I want you not to have to settle,” I told him.“Is that what you think I’m doing?”“I know that’s what you’ll be doing. Because if you want more from me, you’re not going to get it.”He said nothing for a long time. “When I readThe Little Prince, I thought you must be the rose. You with your four thorns, convincing me you’re able to defend yourself. But now I know you hate roses. So you must be the fox instead.So maybe what you really want is for me to tame you.”From a lot of men, that speech would have made me laugh, or roll my eyes. Then again, a lot of men wouldn’t haveread Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s classic story ofThe Little Prince, or bothered to try and understand it.I reached for his hand and held it between both of mine. “The fox tells the Little Prince he is a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. Just like the flower was like a hundred thousand other flowers.”Dan tucked a strand of hair behind my ear with the hand I wasn’t holding. “But the fox asked the prince to tame him.To make it so they’d need each other and be unique to each other. And he did it.”“And then the prince went away, Dan, and left the fox bereft.” I looked down at my hands, holding his.“Would you be sad if I left you?” He asked me, and at first I wasn’t sure how I would reply.At last the answer came on breath as tremulous as a breeze wafting curtains from an open window.“Yes. I would.”He squeezed my hand. “Then I won’t.”

“What are you wearing?”I looked down at my soft flannel pajamas. I’d washed them so many times the plaid pattern had faded mostly to grays and whites. “What do you want me to be wearing?”Dan’s voice shifted a little. I imagined a smile. “Nothing.”Such a small thing, that little bit of flirting, but all at once I felt as if air had rushed into my lungs, and I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath. “Nothing but a smile.”

“I've been hit on plenty of times, mostly by men with little finesse who thought what was between their legs made up for what they lacked between their ears.”

“Knowing what you need doesn't always mean you know how to get it, though. I'd spent a long time hiding in my cave. No matter how much I might want to come out into the light, I knew it would hurt my eyes. I was a fool. A fool, but nevertheless too smart not to know I was the architect of my own demise, that it was time to put my past behind me. It was time to stop allowing the white elephants to stand unspoken of in my living room.”

“The past doesn't change no matter how much time you spend thinking about it. Good and bad all add up to the whole. Take away one piece, no matter how small, and the whole changes. Whether it's optimism, pessimism or fatalism, I don't spend my time wishing for the past to be different so present would be different, too. I control my future with what I choose now.”

“Yeah. That boy over there. He’s my friend.'My gaze followed his pointing finger toward a little boy wearing a stuffed steering wheel attached around his waist and running around a racetrack laid out on the floor. 'Oh, yeah? What’s his name?''I don’t know.' Simon shrugged, unconcerned, and headed back to the playground.I watched him leap right into the game with a friend whose name didn’t matter.”