Always You and Me

by Dani Atkins

‘Please, Lily. For me. Go and see him. Listen to what he has to say. And then, when you’ve heard it . . . forgive him. And then forgive me.’

There is probably a special place in hell for people who lie to someone who’s dying, and I was already halfway there.

I learnt that you can’t outrun grief because it always knows where to find you, but you can keep yourself so busy that it can only squeeze into the gaps of your life, instead of burying you under an avalanche of sadness.

Some threads run so deep in your tapestry, perhaps it’s impossible to ever unpick them all.

Panic is a strange dish that goes from a moderate simmer to a raging boil almost without you noticing.