That certainty was held firm by a part of him rooted in the fact that he was loved unreservedly, that he was respected. Matti was coming to realise that this part had been at war, for a very long time, with the part of him that had nothing to do with intellect and everything to do with his parents’ decade-long worry, and with knowing that he would do anything and everything to rescue them from it. That everything he could do, everything he had done, was not enough. Love was a sword with two edges.
