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“the kiss he was giving her today was oh, so achingly slow and heart-stirringly tender. It tugged at the deepest corners of her heart, pulled at every heartstring, stirred each nerve ending. It was so beautifully poignant she felt like crying and laughing at the same time. She felt him—every fiber, every atom of his being, even his very soul—meshed with her own.”

“A feeling so alien persisted inside him. He searched for a word to describe it. The nearest word he could come up with was elation. He was full of immeasurable joy because she was simply there. She was near him, breathing the air he breathes, treading the very ground on which he walks. She was with him, on this island, in this very moment. And somehow, it gave him the most amazing kind of peace.”

“Love, as she knew it, did not make a person feel vulnerable and defenseless, or generate confusion, or send butterflies in one's stomach! It didn't make one want to laugh and cry at the same time, or feel annoyed and excited in a flash, or want to inflict pain or care for someone simultaneously. It didn't make one despise oneself for responding to a kiss like that, wanting it to end, and yet feeling such unbearable longing and yearning for it, needing it to go on and on and on. Love, she admonished herself firmly, doesn't make one do or feel those things.”

“You still lost, Marj. You still got hurt. And losing and hurting are what I don’t want.” Her sister held her stare. “Do you honestly think you’re not losing and hurting now, as you speak?” She didn’t have an answer to that. She didn’t need to. Her heart was busy shattering into pieces. Why was that? She got out before she was even in, didn’t she? She should be congratulating herself for being spared of the certainty of heartbreak and tears. Why was she feeling like a huge part of herself was gone, replaced by a bottomless hole where regret and longing suddenly took up residence, and where questions like ‘if you were only brave enough’ and ‘what if things turn out differently than you expected’ echoed endlessly within its walls?”

“Once, I told you, ‘never settle unless it’s forever.’ I was wrong, Alex. Not about never settling. No, never about that. We must never settle for less than what we’re worth.” Tears generously fell down Marjorie’s cheeks. “I was wrong about the forever part. Because it takes two to forever, Alex. You can’t have forever without taking risks, making choices, and working on them—together—for a lifetime. You only have a lifetime to write your own story. Make every second last.”

“It also didn't matter that she had only known him for a short time. The heart knows no time when it meets its match, its better half, its kindred one, which long ago was planned by destiny and then thrust forward by serendipity in ways she had never imagined.”

“It didn’t feel like they were strangers who just met a few days ago. In fact, it felt like she had known him for a long time. She was one with him, feeling him, internalizing him, and by opening up his whole life to her, he synthesized their souls and their hearts into one.”

“I want to hear you say what my father wisely realized from your actions a while ago." "And what was that?" "You know, the. . . 'you love him' part?" "I don't know what you mean," she smiling mischievously as she said so. "Don't you go cold feet on me again! I know what my father said was true. I knew it long before he did, but I still want to hear it from you." "Well...” "Say it. Or I swear I'll kiss you breathless and we'll end up in a hospital, with the doctors operating to disentangle our stuck lips.”

“Her answer was simple but powerfully sensible:  “You just. . . do, Ricco. You just do. There’s no other way around it, except. . . doing it.” There was no other way around it. Except doing it. Cross the bridge of seemingly endless whys. Take one step forward. Then another. And another. Step after step, after step. And never once look back at the black expanse of their dark past. Suddenly, it dawned on him. His love for Manel was more than his hate for what she had unintentionally done to his father. He loved her more than he hated her.”