" Promises were made.”
“Not to me,” I remind her.
“Not out loud,” she counters. She moves to stand in front of me. I try to look away, but she doesn’t let me. “Not here,” she says, touching my lips. “But here.” She touches my head. “And here.” She touches my chest. “Sometimes it’s the promises we don’t say that are the ones that are the loudest. "

― T.J. Klune , Into This River I Drown