The Last Thing He Told Me (Hannah Hall, #1)

by Laura Dave

we don’t know shit about anything,” he says.

How do you explain it when you find in someone what you’ve been waiting for your whole life? Do you call it fate? It feels lazy to call it fate. It’s more like finding your way home—where home is a place you secretly hoped for, a place you imagined, but where you’d never before been.

Home. When you weren’t sure you’d ever get to have one.

It’s never about someone else the moment you realize it is up to you to get yourself to a better place.

It’s only about figuring out how to get there.

the day, whatever has been lost, these two will have each other—which feels like a unique type of happy