“I knew,” I say slowly to her, “that you were the only girl that I’d ever fall in love with—could ever fall in love with—in Cancún, Mexico, on the boardwalk of a bungee jump.” She begins to sob, shaking her head. I cup her face between my hands. “I knew back then, Daisy Petunia Calloway, because you were the only girl I’d ever met that was as deeply caring and as fucking lonely as me. If anyone was going to fill my heart, it was you. Only you.”
