"You've really been married to him for forty years?" Kelly sighed. "That's true love." "No, that's called persistence. True love is when it's raining and the umbrella is too small for both of you and your husband holds it over your head to keep you dry. True love happens when there's only one toilet available and you both have to go, but he lets you go first even if it means peeing in his pants. True love is him taking the middle seat on an airplane even though there's an obese person sitting next to the window whose flab is overflowing into his space." Margie shook her head. "Forty years together has nothing to do with true love. A forty-year prison sentence might put you in the same cell as another inmate for the entire time, but you won't be falling in love."