His pulse races under my palms. "Was there ever. . .between us, was there ever something?" I say.He shakes his head. "Just for me. But you were always Noah's.""I don't want to be."He doesn't say anything.

Your memories don't make you who you are.

He stops pacing. 'I know, Miranda, I did it because I—' 'Stop! Don't say it. I don't want to hear you say it.' 'I have to say it,' Noah says. 'No, you don't.' If I hear him say the word love, I don't know what I'll do. I still have my gun. Maybe one day I can forgive him, but all chance of that goes out the window if he claims he did it for love. If you love someone, the idea is respect them enough to trust them. Not to take away their freedom. Their life.

He’d read in a textbook once a quote by the famous Captain Reynolds: I am not a brave man. But bravery, like most things, can be faked. And sometimes, in rare instances, it will lead to the real thing.

Susan had told him once that bravery was when you wanted to pee your pants, but you kept fighting

Mason knew what it was like to say things you didn’t mean, to just have them vomit out, and then feel that crushing ache when you realized you could never pull them back.