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there were worse things than being childless—like having a child you weren’t equipped to care for and scarring it for life.
He would read it, of course, at some point. Just like he read all of Stephen Ludlow’s novels. Not because they were great. Or even good. They were neither. He read them because he was still trying to figure out what all the fuss was about.
“Just that sometimes not knowing is easier than coming face-to-face with the facts. Believe me, I have some experience with this. The facts may suck, but they’re still the facts. Pretending they’re not never works.”
The porch seemed to shift, the soft thrum of rain receding as she stared at Stephen’s little girl. The one she had vowed to never have. The one Honey had given him instead.
Putangina ang saket
People hold on to all kinds of things, silly things, even broken things, because of the memories attached to them.”
Dreams are like public service announcements from your soul. The only way to get past them is to pay attention to what they’re telling us.
He leaned in then, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll risk it.”
GODDAMN WADE I'M SCREAMING
“Nonny says you’re my angel. She says Mama sent you.”
PROTECT THIS BABY TT
“Will you still be my angel if you’re my mama? Nonny says God sent you to take care of me.”
She’d been living with nevers for far too long, holding happiness at bay with both hands. But now there was Iris. And Wade. It seemed never had come after all.
