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“On the great philosophical question of fate versus free will, I’m firmly on the side of fate kicking things off. It’s a small enough suburb, Evan. If we were meant to see each other again, we definitely will.”
not one of them has gotten stuck in my head like you have. Not one of them has my heart feeling like it has been wrung dry watching how much she cares about people without worrying about what she’s going to get in return. Not one of them feels like she’s an island in the middle of an ocean full of sharks every time I get stuck talking to a bunch of fans, even after ditching me to deal with them. And not one of them has talked about my work the way you’ve done.
He kisses like he writes—full of feeling, carefully selecting each motion to draw out his intended result.
These past few weeks have been an absolute whirlwind, but one thing I know clearly is that I want to be here with you, Mac. With all of you. Even the messy parts.”
“I have never wanted someone so completely in my entire life.
You’ve made me feel things about this world—about my own writing, too—that I never thought I’d feel again. I’m alive with it.
“I couldn’t write you if I tried.”
He falls so perfectly into my life that it feels like he’s always been there—like putting on an old, favorite sweater on the first cold day of fall.
“When someone comes into our lives who sees into our souls in a way Mr. Evans’ manuscript would suggest he saw into yours, we hang on and don’t let go.”
