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.

A landline is an anchor - busy signals, long distance bills, missed connections and all.

It had taken years to put themselves back together, and so what if some things didn’t get put back in the right place? At least they could hold themselves up.

You saved me life, she tried to tell him. Not forever, not for good. Probably just temporarily. But you saved my life, and now I'm yours. The me that's me right now is yours. Always.

There’s no such thing as handsome princes, she told herself. There’s no such thing as happily ever after.

All of her bones seemed more purposeful than other people’s. Like they weren’t just there to hold her up, they were there to make a point.

God, his chin. She wanted to make an honest woman of his chin. She wanted to lock it down.