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Cecelia Ahern
PS, I Love You
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Time Warner 1-4013-9925-8en-us
For David
One
HOLLY HELD THE BLUE COTTON sweater to her face and the familiar smell
immediately struck her, an overwhelming grief knotting her stomach and pulling at her
heart. Pins and needles ran up the back of her neck and a lump in her throat threatened to
choke her. Panic took over. Apart from the low hum of the fridge and the occasional
moaning of the pipes, the house was quiet. She was alone. Bile rose to her throat and she
ran to the bathroom, where she collapsed to her knees before the toilet.
Gerry was gone and he would never be back. That was the reality. She would never again
run her fingers through his soft hair, never share a secret joke across the table at a dinner
party, never cry to him when she got home from a hard day at work and just needed a hug;
she would never share a bed with him again, never be woken up by his fits of sneezes each
morning, never laugh with him so much her stomach would ache, never fight with him
about whose turn it was to get up and turn the bedroom light off. All that was left was a
bundle of memories and an image of his face that became more and more vague each day.
Their plan had been very simple. To stay together for the rest of their lives. A plan that