All that was left for me was a terrible kind of paralysis, this waiting game, this heartbreak game.
Paula McLainAt twenty-eight I'd had a handful of beaux, but had only been in love once, and that had been awful enough to make me doubt men and myself for a good long while.
Paula McLainAnd that's when he finally tells me his name is Ernest. I'm thinking of giving it away, though. Ernest is so dull, and Hemingway? Who wants a Hemingway?
Paula McLain