Currently she was midway through a bittersweet David Nicholls novel that any other time might well have made her self-indulgently reflective.

It's not a persons mistakes which define them - it's the way they make amends.

She liked him. She liked the feeling of liking him. She felt light and smiley and too full of excitement to think of anything else. 

I was clinging to all that had been and, in an ideal world, all that we had hoped for. He, he wanted out.

Tell me that you refuse to allow me to be so stupid. Tell me that you will not tolerate this relationship being over just when it was on the verge of really taking off.

She didn't want to be reminded of her past or how different her present was from the future she'd taken for granted.