“I told your father on opening day that you were lonely,” she told me. I turned my head, and she lifted hers. “He replied that all great and precious things are lonely.” My brows knit together, and she nodded. That line… Holy shit. The same man who’d mocked me for always having my nose in a book as a kid took the time to read the one I’d declared my favorite, and not just once, but enough to recall that line.
