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she’d had no frame of reference for that kind of anguish, the kind that imprinted itself on the body, etched itself into the soul.
There’s nothing more personal than a book, especially one that’s become an important part of someone’s life.”
Deserved or not, the affluent will always enjoy a soft landing.
It was how her own life felt, as if she’d been placed in a state of suspension, waiting, breath held, for some unseen shoe to drop. Like an interrupted story or an unresolved chord.
sounded exactly the way a librarian was supposed to sound: capable, courteous, and crisply efficient.
I have no wish to become a shadow, which is what women in families like mine become: obedient, hollowed-out things who fade into the background the moment their usefulness as a bargaining chip is at an end.
We see to the menus, raise the children, keep up with the latest fashions, grace our husband’s table when he entertains, and look the other way when a pretty young face turns his head.
This is who you really are. Not a member of the smart cocktail set but a country type, unfazed by the rain, at home in both your clothes and your skin.
“Everyone believes it. Except my mum, of course.” I manage a halfhearted grin. “She thinks I hung the moon. But it’s her job to believe in me.”
He was ashamed of her. Ashamed of her frailties—as a woman and as a human being.
one party was always more invested than the other, more willing to hand over their power, to make themselves small, as the price for being loved. She’d always been the more willing one. With her parents and her husband.
Deny everything, no matter what the evidence said. Gaslight. Manipulate. Turn the tables. He’d been a master of deflection. There was talk,
She understood the need to retreat behind a book, to create a physical barrier between you and the world.
She’d been so swept up, so eager to be loved, that she’d forgotten to protect herself.
As for marriage, that was never in the cards for me, which is not to say I’ve been lonely. Far from it. My life has been full and rewarding.
“Don’t leave it too long,” Marian admonished with a hint of gravity. “Time has a way of getting away from you. Things happen, and before you know it, you’ve missed your chance.”
“I never saw him coming. He was always careful in his choice of targets, and a consummate actor. I fell for every bit of it. I told him everything, introduced him to all my demons. I gave him the power to hurt me—and he used it.”
But perhaps even more astonishing, she realized she could forgive herself. For giving him power over her, for seeing too late who he really was—and for staying long after she knew.
