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She understood then, with the distance that age and maturity brings, how much he’d loved her back then. And still did, something whispered inside her, and all at once she had the strange impression that everything they’d shared in the past had been the opening chapters in a book with a conclusion that had yet to be written.
there was a moment, just a moment, when she was able to imagine a different life that might have been hers, the kind of life she knew that she’d always really wanted.
Love, after all, always said more about those who felt it than it did about the ones they loved.
After all, she had known the kind of love that was worth risking everything for, the kind of love that was as rare as a glimpse of heaven.
She’d loved him once and had loved him again, and nothing would ever change the way she felt.
