Chapter 24
Heart like a river; like this river, Quinn thought, frozen with shards of snow-covered ice.
He was staring out at the Hudson through the scrim of a light beige shade, even the buttery winter sun being too strong for his eyes. Or maybe it was too strong for his brain and his mind. Was the mind the same as the brain? Did the mind cease to exist when the brain did, or did it go on in the Great Somewhere? In the weeks after Quinn left the hospital, while others were negotiating contracts, hitting the gym or vowing to come back stronger, faster—whatever sounded good in the press—he and Tam had, unbeknown to anyone, settled into domesticity in Quinn’s Lower Manhattan loft.
This is what it must be like to be loved, Quinn thought, as he sat by the window in his sweats, ski cap, hoodi
