From The Given Day by Dennis Lehane:
They had a few more drinks and Ruth had to say he’d never seen a couple so in love. They barely touched, and it wasn’t like they got all gooey on each other, talked to each other in baby voices and called each other “dumpling” or anything. Even so, it was like a rope hung between them, invisible but electric, and that rope connected them more strongly than shared limbs. The rope was not only electric, it was serene. It glowed warm and peaceful. Honest.
Ruth grew sad. He’d never felt that kind of love, not even in his earliest days with Helen. He’d never felt that will another human being. Ever.
Peace. Honesty. Home.
God, was it even possible?
Apparently it was, because these two had it. At one point, the dame tapped a single finger on the ex-copper’s hand. Just one light tap. And he looked at her and she smiled, her upper teeth exposed as they ran over her lower lip. God, it broke Babe’s heart, that look.
The first part of Lehane’s first book, A Drink Before the War, was uncanny for its clear and honest depiction of south Boston through the eyes of a child. Through his police procedurals he searched out the truth of that voice, uncovering its pain, finally, with Mystic River. The Given Day uses a walk back through history, to the start of a culture’s lore, to combine the romance and the hope that colored that juvenile voice. It makes for a really terrific book and a fated love story.