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“Every jest holds truth.”
“If this woman is to be my wife,” he said, swallowing hard, “you will not touch her again.”
“You’re my wife now, whether we like it or not. No man will ever touch you that way again.”
“Florin? What a terrible name! No wonder he never uses it.” He frowned at me. “Florin is my middle name.” I crumpled it up and tossed it in a bin. “A true tragedy.”
C’est cela l’amour, tout donner, tout sacrifier sans espoir de retour. That is love, to give away everything, to sacrifice everything, without the slightest desire to get anything in return. —Albert Camus
He’d abandoned his life—his very beliefs—when he chose me. I didn’t deserve it. But I thanked God anyway.
