Happy Endings Are All I Can Do.

Daphne," He Said With Controlled Gentleness, "what Is Wrong?" She Sat Down Opposite Him And Placed A Hand On His Cheek. "i'm So Insensitive," She Whispered. "i Should Have Known. I Should Never Have Said Anything." "should Have Known What?" He Ground Out. Her Hand Fell Away. "that You Can't—that You Couldn't—" "can't What?" She Looked Down At Her Lap, Where Her Hands Were Attempting To Wring Each Other To Shreds. "please Don't Make Me Say It," She Said. 'this," Simon Muttered, "has Got To Be Why Men Avoid Marriage.

She Had Been Born For This Man, And She Had Spent So Many Years Trying To Accept The Fact That He Had Been Born For Someone Else.

And For The Rest Of The Night, He Couldn’t Quite Forget The Smell Of Her Perfume. Or Maybe It Was The Soft Sound Of Her Chuckle. Or Maybe It Was Neither Of Those Things. Maybe It Was Just Her.

There Was A Certain History To This. While Heavily Pregnant With Amelia, She Had Asked Him If She Was Radiant Or If She Just Looked Like A Waddling Duck. He Told Her She’d Looked Like A Radiant Duck. This Had Not Been The Correct Answer.

Love Was The Best Present Of All.