I love him. It had happened. Niamh had always imagined love as something sparkling, something all-encompassing and glorious as daybreak, as sudden as a knife to the heart. But love was somehow more magical and more banal than she’d dreamed it. It crept up on her, out of sight, until it was completely undeniable—until it was already out of her mouth and solid as a stone to strike her down with.
