“Once,” she said, using a finger to trace my cheekbone, “you told me that solid stone is nothing more than sand and pressure and time.” Her hand dropped from my face to lie flat against my chest. “I was the sand, so easy to crumble. You provided the pressure, Gabriel, the holding together, the love. All the confidence you had in me was what I needed in order to take a chance on myself. And then you gave me the most selfless gift of all: time, so I could finally break apart and put myself back together.”
