But It Was Too Late Now. A

I Wish You Were A Mind-reader. I Want You To Know Everything But I Don't Want To Have To Tell You. Because There Are Some Things I Don't Want To Say Out Loud.

He Was So Far From The Gallant Knights In Her Romantic Fantasies ... He Was Tarnished, Scarred, Imperfect. Deliberately He Had Destroyed Any Illusions She Might Have Had About Him, Exposing His Mysterious Past For The Ugly Horror That It Was. His Purpose Had Been To Drive Her Away. But Instead She Felt Closer To Him, As If The Truth Had Bonded Them In A New Intimacy.

The Situation Was Extraordinary. How Someone Like Evangeline Jenner Could Have Wrought Such A Change In St. Vincent, The Most Worldly Of Men, Was Difficult To Understand. However, Westcliff Had Learned That The Mysteries Of Attraction Could Not Always Be Explained Through Logic. Sometimes The Fractures In Two Separate Souls Became The Very Hinges That Held Them Together.

... He Didn't Know How To Say Good-bye. His Throat Ached From The Strain Of Holding Back His Emotions. “i Don't Want To Leave You,” He Said Humbly, Reaching For Her Cold, Stiff Hands. Emma Lowered Her Head, Her Tears Falling Freely. “i'll Never See You Again, Will I?” He Shook His Head. “not In This Lifetime,” He Said Hoarsely. She Pulled Her Hands Away And Wrapped Her Arms Around His Neck. He Felt Her Wet Lashes Brush His Cheek. “then I'll Wait A Hundred Years,” She Whispered. “or A Thousand, If I Must. Remember That, Nikki. I'll Be Waiting For You To Come To Me.

You're Surrounded By It Wherever You Go, You Walk Through It, Breathe It...it's In Your Lungs And Under Your Tongue And Between Your Fingers And Toes.