“Her eyes were open, taking in my tired face... Her face twitched into what looked like a squinty smile, and in her wordless expression I saw gratitude, and relief, and trust. I wanted, desperately, not to disappoint her.”

“Her eyes shot up to his, expressing gratitude. He ignored the pain her obvious relief brought him.”

“I looked back towards them, to see if they were watching me, and saw her pulling her arm from his grip. Her eyes were closed and her hair was all over the places and her face was screwed up.”

“Part of her—a small but defiant part, the part that still remembered her girlhood fantasies—desperately wanted to trust him, but the stronger part remembered how he had thoughtlessly cast her aside. “We can’t always have what we want, Marcus. You must accustom yourself to disappointment.” As I have. The unspoken words hung between them.Marcus’ mouth twitched. “But there you are wrong, my love. I always get what I want.”

“Expecting his usual aloof expression, she saw instead that his smoky eyes were locked on her face and the walls that he usually hid behind were gone. There was something that looked almost like longing in his expression.”

“I couldn’t bear to think of my mother loving me but unable to face me, to stare into my eyes, to care for me emotionally, to offer me her face. Like any daughter, as much as I wanted to separate from her, I wanted to be deeply connected to her, I wanted to redeem her, I wanted to protect her. I wanted to love and to understand, in that order.”