People tend to pair off that way, Cath thought, in matched sets.

The next night, Lincoln parked his Corolla right next to The Courier's front door. I'm here, he thought. Find me. Follow me. Make this inevitable.

I don't know if I even believe in that anymore. The right guy. The perfect guy. The one. I've lost faith in "the". How do you feel about "a" and "an"? Indifferent. So you're considering a life without articles?

Even if your heart is broken and attacking you, you're still not better off without it.

I'm sorry about yesterday," she said. He hung on to his straps and shrugged. "Yesterday happens.

it’s like swimming upstream. Or … falling down a cliff and grabbing at branches, trying to invent the branches as I fall.

I don’t think there’s enough of her left.