and the smile I'd been waiting for stretched across his face like the sun breaking free of the clouds.

For some reason, my temper was hardwired to my tear ducts. I usually cried when I was angry, a humiliating tendency.

Because there was nothing more terrifying to me, more excruciating, than the thought of turning away from him. it was an impossibility.

Just because I’m resisting the wine doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the bouquet.

I’m just going to do what I want now, and let the chips fall where they may.

I can hear them on the floor below. They will find me in miuntes, or seconds. I scrawl the words on a dirty shred of newsprint. They are nearly illegible, but if he finds them, he will understand: 'Not fast enough. Love you love Jamie. Don't go home' Not only do I break their hearts, I steal their refuge, too. I picture our little canyon abandoned, as it must be forever now. Or if not abandoned, a tomb.

I could see how easy it would be to fall into loving Bella. It would be exactly like falling: effortless. Not letting myself love her was the opposite of falling—it was pulling myself up a cliff-face, hand over hand, the task as grueling as if I had no more than mortal strength.