Landline

How could she ever doubt that he loved her? When loving her was what he did better than all the things he did beautifully.

“So you think most people bet everything, their whole lives, on hope. Just hoping that what they’re feeling is real.”

“Just because you love someone,” she said, “that doesn’t mean your lives will fit together.”

“I’m not good at knowing what I want,” he said at the end of the night, at the beginning of the morning. They were sitting on the beach, and Neal was holding Georgie’s hand. “I’m not usually good at wanting things.”

The next person she kissed was going to have to do all the work. Assuming she ever found anybody who thought she was worth it.

“You shouldn’t have to make anybody like you, Georgie. You should want to be with somebody who can’t help but like you.”

“That’s what love is, Georgie. Accidental damage protection.”

I want you to take that for granted. I will love you no matter what.

Neal made up his mind as soon as he saw it.
The future was going to happen, even if he wasn’t ready for it. Even if he was never ready for it.
At least he could make sure he was with the right person.
Wasn’t that the point of life? To find someone to share it with?
And if you got that part right, how far wrong could you go? If you were standing next to the person you loved more than everything else, wasn’t everything else just scenery?

The first time she’d borrowed that T-shirt, Neal had laughed and pinned her to his bed.
Because he didn’t laugh when he thought something was funny—he laughed when he was happy.