She felt him tremble with the force of his need. He spoke just beneath her ear, his voice thick with tormented pleasure. "You have to leave, Sara ... because I want to hold you like this until your skin melts into mine. I want you in my bed, the smell of you on my sheets, your hair spread across my pillow. I want to take your innocence. God! I want to ruin you for anyone else.

I'd do almost anything for you. I think I'd kill for you. But I'm not going to comfort you while you cry in my arms over another man. - Gage Travis

I had never ironed anything in my life. The proper pressing of a shirt was a mystery of the universe akin to black holes and dark matter.

I think at this point, safety isn't a feeling, it's a process. Starting with trust.

I've never known anyone more ill equipped for happiness. He wouldn't know what to do with it.

It was a confirmation of a connection that already existed. And it was a bond that extended far beyond the borders of a shared living space. We would have stayed together even without a marriage certificate . . . but I believed in the permanence it represented. It was a piece of paper you could build a life on.

I had learned that there were substitutes for a mother who couldn't be a mother. You could find love with other people. You could find it in places you weren't even looking. But the original wound would never heal. I would carry it with me forever, and so would Tara. That was the trick . . . accepting it, going on with your life, knowing it was part of you.