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326 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2012
“You still smell like strawberries, and it’s breaking my heart.”
“There’s a side benefit to this. We get to learn about each other, get to know each other, all over again.” His voice dropped to a husky near whisper, and he leaned close and said next to my ear, “We get to fall in love all over again, for the second time. How cool is that?”
“You don't get to decide what's to big a risk for me. You don't decide what's good for me and what isn't. That's my decision, Dylan. If you care about me so much, then how dare you do this all by yourself? I choose not to destroy my present because of the risk of a future that might or might not happen.You should think about that.”
How do you say the words ‘I’m sorry’ and have them mean something?
“I'd rather have a lifetime of heartache, from you breaking my heart, than even imagine my life without you at all. Because a life without you wouldn't be a life at all.”



"I don't know if I can do this…"
"Why not?"
"Because… because, well, sometimes it hurts, Alex. A little. A lot. Jesus Christ."
She looked away…
"If we're going to get through this year, I think we have to move past that…"
"Yeah."
"It'll be like we're strangers."
"Okay." Like that could happen.
"You still smell like strawberries, and it's breaking my heart."
"What are you doing?"
I shook my head, embarrassed. "Sorry," I said.
"You were looking at me."
Now I looked up at her eyes, then away. "Well, shoot me, then."
"Listen, whatever you do, don't ever give me pity. I don't want to see that expression on your face, all right? I walked out of there alive. That makes me a fucking lottery winner, okay?"
"Listen… whatever out history is, doesn't change the way I feel about you. The way I've always felt about you."
"Dylan… do you ever think…" I couldn't finish the question.
He kept looking at the table, and then replied, so quietly I almost couldn't hear him. "Always," he said.





"I choose not to destroy my present because of the risk of a future that might or might not happen."
Love meant a lot. It meant everything, and it meant nothing.
We met almost three years ago: my senior year in high school and her junior year. And to be blunt: it changed my life, in ways I can’t really measure.
It’s not about who your parents are, or how much money you have. It’s about what you do with who you are.”
There were too many paths that could have been taken, and no way to know what would have led here and now.
I never imagined the twists and turns that my life would take.
It was too late for Alex and I as a couple, but I’d damned sure be her friend as long as she would have me. I’d be whatever she wanted.
It was difficult to match up the reality with the boy I’d known and fallen in love with. The Dylan I’d fallen in love with was gentle, and kind. Thoughtful. Funny. He was still all of those things but had an edge to him that was new and, to be honest, frightening. This was a guy who’d carried weapons in a war for most of last year. This was a man who had killed, who had seen his friends killed in battle. There were depths to him that were all new, and scary as hell.
How do you say the words, “I’m sorry,” and have them mean something?
You don’t just complete me. You make me a better person. (...) You make me feel alive, Alex. We fit together in ways that I didn’t imagine were possible.
Sometimes when he was close to me I couldn’t even breathe.
For the first time since that hideous week when Kowalski and Roberts died, for the first time since I landed in the hospital, I began to feel some hope. Hope, because of the woman curled up against my side. And that was something worth fighting for.
“I’d say you’re worth falling in love with twice.”
Killing was easy. Living with it was difficult.
How did I dare to chase after the rich daughter of an ambassador with a five-story house in the heart of the most expensive city in America? I was nuts.
Not nuts enough, not then. I’d let her life, her father, my past, all of it, intimidate me.
If I had to live without her, I didn’t want to live at all.
When I’m ninety, I want you to tell me that it’s my turn to ask you a question, and if that miracle happens, then my question is going to be, ‘Do you still love me?’ and I hope the answer will still be yes.


