“But he was generating something artful for her too, stealing time from his day job as a tree doctor to write her a story that had nothing and everything to do with them, with what she had suffered and with what he had done. It was a long apology, and an argument meant to convince her that, gross despicable appearances aside, he had loved her as truly and deeply and consumingly as anyone had ever loved another person. Most days he worried that it was only going to be as useful or affective as a pastry, and that it would ultimately only be about as artful as a pastry, but other days he was sure it was the closest thing to a miracle he would ever wreak and when she read it she would understand him––and understand them––in a way that might just possibly allow her to forgive him.”
The Great Night by Chris Adrian