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341 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published May 19, 2009
Ironic, that in what he’d done out of fear that they might be unhappy together lay the cause of the greater part of their unhappiness.Not Quite a Husband is full of these breathtakingly painful moments of clarity. For a man like Leo, who has loved Byrony ever since he was a teenager, this moment is full of shame. Powerfully put into words, I felt his shame. No wonder, really. Sherry Thomas' prose makes me feel all the pain, hurt and towards the end, thankfully, hope.
Healing Begins by Tenth Avenue Northhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SpjUIq...
So you thought you had to keep this up
All the work that you do
So we think that you're good
And you can't believe it's not enough
All the walls you built up
Are just glass on the outside
So let 'em fall down
There's freedom waiting in the sound
When you let your walls fall to the ground
We're here now
This is where the healing begins, oh
This is where the healing starts
When you come to where you're broken within
The light meets the dark
The light meets the dark
Afraid to let your secrets out
Everything that you hide
Can come crashing through the door now
But too scared to face all your fear
So you hide but you find
That the shame won't disappear
So let it fall down
There's freedom waiting in the sound
When you let your walls fall to the ground
We're here now
We're here now, oh
This is where the healing begins, oh
This is where the healing starts
When you come to where you're broken within
The light meets the dark
The light meets the dark
"Then he did smile, one of his dazzling smiles that restored sight to the blind and instilled music in the deaf.”It was like she saw him as some sort of God. Then I realised that she had, and when he fell in her eyes, he had a long way to go. How beautiful it was, though, when they found their way to a TRUE marriage and the last paragraph in the Epilogue had me all misty eyed.
“…a smile beatific enough to bring about peace on Earth.”
“She was both surprised and not surprised to feel tears roll down her face. He kissed her tears. “It doesn’t matter where I am; I’m yours.”’
"And that you will remember me not as a failed husband, but one who was still trying, til the very end."
She had a sudden vision of herself as a wizened old physician, her hands too arthritic to wield a scalpel, her eyes too rheumy to diagnose anything except measles and chicken pox. The wizened old physician would very much like to drink tea next to her wizened old professor, chuckle over the passionate follies of their distant youth, and then go for a walk along the river Cam, holding his paper-dry liver-spotted hand.
How ironic that when they’d been married, she’d never thought of growing old with him. Yet now, years after the annulment, she should think of it with the yearning of an exile, for the homeland that had long ago evicted her.
Amazing what a man thought of, looking at a fully clothed woman who did nothing more provocative than sipping her tea while gazing thoughtfully into the distance.
For the thousandth time he wished he’d just met her. That they were but two strangers traveling together, that such lovely, filthy thoughts did not break him in two, but were only a pleasant pastime as he slowly fell under the spell of her aloof beauty and her hidden intensity.
There were so many stories he could tell her, so many ways to draw her out of her shell. He would have waited with baited breath for her first smile, for the sound of her first laughter. He would be endlessly curious about her, eager to undress her metaphorically as well as physically.
The first holding of hands. The first kiss. The first time he saw her unclothed. The first time they became one.
The first time they finished each other’s sentences.
But no, they’d met long ago, in the furthest years of his childhood. Their chances had come and gone. All they had ahead of them were a tedious road and a final good-bye.