Do you love him?" How would I know?" You'd know.

...This fear was unbearable. It unwrapped who she was, as neatly as he'd unwound her bandage, leaving too much pain and ugliness exposed. Nerve endings; he'd said they were the problem [causing phantom pain in the amputated limb]." Things that cut off, that ended abruptly or died--like parents and marriages--kept hurting forever.

Lately he'd been seen going out less and less, becoming that strangest of animals in a small town: a loner.

At one point, she'd wanted to hurl the whole breakfast at the wall. And then she'd remember why it was that men had temper tantrums and women didn't: cleanup.

Do you love him?" How would I know?" You'd know.

Sometimes holding on was all you could do.

The at-home mother's life: it was a race with no finish line.