“Knowing that each breath was another moment he was still here and, simultaneously, that meant that he had just moved a little closer to being gone.”

“He stood and looked at me for a moment, taking in my outfit. "You look hot.""What? Me?" I stammered, completely flummoxed."Yeah," he said, still looking at me."Oh. Um, thank you. I mean, not that you don’t, but I’m not sure that you should—I mean …""Oh, no," Roger said quickly, and I could see that he was blushing again. "No. I mean—I meant what you’re wearing. Are you going to be too warm?”

“Just because you'd left something behind didn't mean that it had gone anywhere.”

“All I could determine was that it must have been a nice thing to see if it was a house you were thinking about moving into. But not so nice if it was the house you were moving out from. I could practically hear Mr Collins, who had taught my fifth-grade English class and was still the most intimidating teacher I'd ever had, yelling at me. "Amy Curry," I could still hear him intoning, "never end a sentence with a preposition!" Irked that after six hears he was still mentally correcting me, I told the Mr. Collins in my head to off fuck.”

“Daddy," I whispered, feeling my own breath hitch in my throat. "I love you."Just when I was sure he was asleep, the one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. "I knew that," he murmured. "Always knew that.”

“A thousand moments that I had just taken for granted- mostly because I had assumed that there would be a thousand more.”

“You know what my grandma used to say?”“There’s no place like home?” I asked, trying again for a smile, this one less trembly than before.“No,” he said, still looking serious, still holding on to his end of the CD. “Tomorrow will be better.”“But what if it’s not?” I asked.Walcott smiled and let go of the CD. “Then you say it again tomorrow. Because it might be. Younever know, right? At some point, tomorrow will be better.”