There are only two choices. Stay here and die. Or get up and see what happens next.

He knows me better than anyone ever has. Than anyone ever will again. I would have stopped it if I could have. But I've learned the hard way, we can't choose who we love. Love chooses us. Love doesn't care about what's convenient or easy or planned. Love has its own agenda and all we can do is get out of its way.

Are you happy, Ivy?' he asks, surprising me.
In my whole life, I don't think anyone ever asked me that question.

I want to be someone strong and brave enough to make hard choices. But I want to be fair and loving enough to make the right ones.

Bishop stares at me. "What do you want me to say, Ivy?" he asks finally. "That I agree with what my father did? That I don't? What's the answer you're looking for?"
"I'm not looking for a specific answer," I tell him, although the part of me that's been coached to kill him hopes he agrees with his father. "I want to know what you think."
"I think," Bishop says, "that we can love our families without trusting everything they tell us. Without championing everything they stand for." He delivers the words matter-of-factly, but his eyes are locked on mine. "I think that sometimes things aren't as simple as our fathers want us to believe.

He didn’t save me, though. He allowed me the freedom to save myself, which is the very best type of rescue.