On the drive we talked easily, but we did make a small detour. After pulling into a rest stop, we made out like teenagers.

I know you loved her, but it's okay to let it go now. You know that, don't you? You've got to be able to let it go.

That was the dirty secret associated with her past. Not that she'd been abused but that somehow she felt that she deserved it because she'd let it happen. Even now, it shamed her, and there were times when she felt hideously ugly, as though the scars that had been left behind were visible to everyone.

I love you, Katie. You might not be ready to say those words now, and maybe you'll never be able to say them, but that doesn't change how I feel about you.

I write 2,000 words a day when I write. It sometimes takes three hours, it sometimes takes five hours.

Too many people seem to believe that silence was a void that needed to be filled, even if nothing important was said.

Every time I read to her, it was like I was courting her, because sometimes, just sometimes, she would fall in love with me again, just like she had a long time ago. And that's the most wonderful feeling in the world. How many people are ever given that chance? To have someone you love fall in love with you over and over?