“He jingled his keys in his hand as he walked. "Y'know, I've looked for you around the floors.You haven't been drawing our door."Of course, there wasn't an our anything. Unless,of course, he meant our as in "we the people of means who visit France regularly enough to be in French 5." "I figured I should give up," I said shortly."Why?"Because you looked right through me. Because I might be pitiful, but I'm not stupid. Because I promised the one boy who never disappoints me. "There was no way it was going to turn out the way I wanted it to.""Too bad.""Yeah.”
“I have to go, Jenna", he whispered, sounding shaky, like he questioned the decision himself. He released the hold and squatted to retrieve his bag, leaving me to sway in the air, ready to collapse any second, as he walked away forever. And it ate me up inside. Forever."Evan?""Yeah?" he answered, turning back as his hand gripped the door."I do love you. And i never gave you anything less than everything i had to give" A solitary tear managed to break through my defenses. "And i'll always regret that it wasn't enough""Me, too" And just as he slid out into the hallway, marking the beginning of forever, he quietly added "Because i would've spent my life with you”
“He acted like he didn't hear me. "He will let you down, because that's what he does. That's who he is." For the rest of my life, I was going to remember those words. Everything Jeremiah said to me that day, our wedding day, I would remember. I would remember the words Jeremiah said and the way he looked at me with them. With pity, and with bitterness. I hated myself for being the one who made him bitter, because that was one thing he'd never been. I reached up and laid my palm on his cheek. He could have pushed my hand away, he could have recoiled at my touch. He didn't. Just that one tiny thing told me what I needed to know - that Jere was still Jere and nothing could ever change that.”
“I took in a breath. "What's the one thing you'd do," I asked. "if you could do anything?"Pass," he said.For a second I was sure I'd heard wrong. "What?"He cleared his throat. "I said, I pass."Why?"He turned his head and looked at me. "Because."Because why?"Because I just do.”
“My city. I pondered that phrase, wondered why Barrons felt that way. He never said “our world.” He always said “your world.” But he called Dublin his city. Merely because he’d been in it so long? Or had Barrons, like me, been beguiled by her tawdry grace, fallen for her charm and colorful dualities? I looked around “my” bookstore. That was what I called it. Did we call the things of our heart our own, whether they were or not?”
“…included in this grief were the hidden rooms of his life. He told me that hurt was bad enough and that I should never add loneliness to it. That’s why we get together and dance, he said… we got together and moved our bodies because it exorcised our pain.”