We knew we were doomed. The kiss was a warm acceptance of years of bickering, years of me consuming foods that I found barely edible and Henry tidying up after someone who already thought she had tidied up. When I kissed Henry I wasn't imagining Ex-boyfriend #13; I was picturing Husband #1.
Lisa Lutz (2010). “The Spellmans Strike Again: Document #4”, p.343, Simon and Schuster
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