We kissed one more time and then he touched my face gently and said, “I love you, Katherine. I really mean it…I love you.”
I could have said it back to him right away. I was thinking it all along. I was thinking, I love you, Michael. But can you really love someone you’ve seen just nineteen times in your life?
WHY DID I WAIT MY WHOLE LIFE TO READ THIS BOOK
“And what is all this about picking, anyway? Who’s picking? When I was in college, I had a list of what I wanted in a husband. A long list. I wanted a registered Democrat, a bridge player, a linguist with particular fluency in French, a subscriber to The New Republic, a tennis player. I wanted a man who wasn’t bald, who wasn’t fat, who wasn’t covered with too much body hair. I wanted a man with long legs and a small ass and laugh wrinkles around the eyes. Then I grew up and settled for a low-grade lunatic who kept hamsters.”