“Something heavy and cold at his core lightened. Hugging wasn't what he'd had in mind, but maybe it was better. It shouldn't surprise him, her knowing what he needed more than he did.”

“But by God, he was going to stop running from his cowardice. He had to own his shit - even if it made him hate himself to the core. Because maybe if he did, he'd stop trying to distract himself with sex and drinking, and figure out what he did want.Apart from Blay, that was.”

“He could think of only one reason for her to be there, though it madeno sense after what he'd said to her. Words were weapons, his father hadtaught him that, and he'd wanted to hurt Clary more than he'd ever wanted to hurt any girl. In fact, he wasn't sure he had ever wanted to hurt a girl before. Usually he just wanted them, and then wanted them to leave him alone.”

“But he didn't need to seek visual confirmation of what he'd just heard to know she had. And the truth was, he couldn't blame her. He'd not have let her die, either. He'd have moved mountains. He'd have battled God or Devil for his wife's life. She'd betrayed him. He smiled faintly.”

“It was a cold blustery day when he walked out of the courthouse for the last time. He walked down the steps and out the back door and got in his truck and sat there. He couldnt name the feeling. It was sadness but it was something else besides. And the something else besides was what had him sitting there instead of starting the truck. He'd felt like this before but not in a long time and when he said that, then he knew what it was. It was defeat. It was being beaten. More bitter to him than death. You need to get over that, he said. Then he started the truck.”

“He wondered if this, more than guilt, was what had been holding him back. It wasn't that he was punishing himself as much as it was that he didn't really want anything anymore. But was that true? Did he really not want anything? What did he want to do? What did he want, period?”