“She was all he wanted. He would give everything for her. Without thought. Without regret.”

“He took her hand without question, without fear, and he never regretted it.”

“Unconditional love. That’s what he wants to give her and what he wants from her. People should give without wanting anything in return. All other giving is selfish. But he is being selfish a little, isn’t he, by wanting her to love him in return? He hopes that she loves him in return. Is it possible for a person to love without wanting love back? Is anything so pure? Or is love, by its nature, a reciprocity, like oceans and clouds, an evaporating of seawater and a replenishing of rain?”

“She was his. He would die for her. He would die without her.”

“He promised her that he would give her everything, everything she wanted, as men in love always do. And she trusted him despite herself, as women in love always do.”

“He rests his head against the mirror and exhales. In the years he was with Emma he sometimes wondered idly what it would be like if she weren't around; not in a morbid way, just pragmatically, speculatively, because don't all lovers do this? Wonder how he would be without her? Now the answer is in the mirror. Loss has endowed him stupid and banal. Without her he is without merit or virtue or purpose a shabby, lonely, middle aged drunk, poisoned with regret and shame.”