The point about love, the essential point, was that we loved what we loved. We did not choose. We just loved.
But don't we often lie to people we love, or not tell them things, precisely because we love them?
That of all people, it should be him; that took her aback. That the heart should settle on somebody like him; that surprised her. But she was so certain about it, so certain.
It's a different sort of love taht puts up with illness. Old love.