That bowl was special because of the blue. It exactly matched your eyes.

I don't need the bowls to give me peace anymore," Ian said. "I have you. And Jamie, and Belle. If all the Ming bowls in the world were smashed, I'd still have you." [...]"You broke the bowl, and it is gone. But you are here, and whole. Nothing else matters.

Losing Sarah and my boy was the hardest thing I've ever lived through. But even then, you see, I knew that Eleanor was with me. If not here, then at least in the world, where I could find her. I could think of her living in that old house with her father, I could write to her if I chose. She was the anchor in my world, no matter how far I was from her. But if I lose her... Ian, I lose myself. I can't live. Not without Eleanor.

In the past, Cameron, worrying about Ian, would go make sure that he wasn’t sitting alone in a huddle, or staring for hours at a Ming bowl, or pouring over some endless mathematical exercise. These days, Cameron knew that Ian used the excuse of not liking crowds to spend more time alone with his wife – in bed.

Hart was surprised how much Ian's silent presence comforted him. His volatile little brother, who'd needed so much help in the past, was now a rock in the roilling stream of Hart's world. I can always find you, Ian had told him once. He'd meant that he'd know when Hart needed him, would be there, no matter what.

Sorry, Ian," Cameron said. He found himself saying that to Ian quite a bit. "I didn't understand."Ian gave him a faint nod but didn't answer. His look told Cameron that he knew his older brother was an idiot, but he'd learned to put up with it.