“Never, I realized, would I stand as firm as the thick wooden cello. A man who cradles an instrument is not made to cradle a woman. I swore I would never allow myself to be taken by an artist again.”

“I put a piece of grapefruit in my mouth, and its juices release themselves into me. I close my eyes, tilt my head back and let out a tiny breathy moan. It’s been two days without taste, but not even a cold can stop the sensation, scent, and flavor of a ripe grapefruit. I keep my eyes closed as I chew, whispering a mantra of gratitude, reverence, and defiance. I deny myself nothing.”