He didn't believe in fate, either. He didn't believe in much of anything. Or, he hadn't thought he did, not until he kissed Violet Harmon. Her lips were soft as silk and she seemed to know instinctively what to do, like they fit together, when they didn't fit into anything else, anywhere else, at all.
Both hands were resting against her face, his thumbs lightly rubbing over her cheek on each side, as he looked up into her eyes.
"I think so. I hope so." He wasn't saying any of those things because he thought it was what she wanted to hear, but because he really thought and believed it. And she wasn't running away, after he said any of them. "I already feel like I can tell you anything, Violet."
And he meant it. No matter how dark or terrible it was, it seemed like maybe, somehow, she might understand it.