A Lying Coward

"No, no, it doesn't matter. Nothing ever matters, not truly. Except if someone loves you. No one ever did." She coughed deeply, rackingly, but held to her tighter than before, and the palms of her hands were cold and wet.

"I'm sorry I came. Forgive me. I've upset you."

"No, it was waiting for me, all of it. It isn't your fault. No, it was my fault, lying to myself ever since I can remember. Lying. A lying coward."

—Taylor Caldwell, A Prologue to Love, p487.