The Lost Apothecary

First, there was trust. Then, there was betrayal. You cannot have one without the other. You cannot be betrayed by someone you do not trust ... what you have learned is the same heart-wrenching journey of every woman to whom I have sold a poison. And it is, indeed, the same path for me.

if you want something different, the only person holding you back is you. What is it you love to do?

It's okay to change," I interrupted, "but it's not okay to hide, to bury parts of ourselves.

To me, the allure of history lay in the minutiae of life long ago, the untold secrets of ordinary people.

History doesn’t record the intricacies of women’s relationships with one another; they’re not to be uncovered.

Intermingled in the mess was another, subtler secret ... we were happy, yet unfulfilled. It was possible, I understood now, to be both at the same time.

Healing by way of vengeance ... no such thing existed; it never had. Hurting others had only injured me further.

... not everything in my life was how I imagined it would be, and that I hadn't lived up to my own potential. And worst of all, I'd been too scared to even try.

that the hardest truths never rest on the surface. They must be dredged up, held to the light and rinsed clean.

Why did we suffer to keep secrets? Merely to protect ourselves, or to protect others?

If there was anything that the last few days had taught me, it was the importance of shining new light on old truths hidden in dark places.

Beneath the ink strokes of my register held betrayal, anguish and...dark secrets.

History might dismiss these women, but I would not.

You are not searching for a thing so much as you are searching for an inconsistency of things, or an absence.

Did everything reinvent itself over time? It was beginning to seem like every person, every place, carried an untold story with long-buried truths resting just beneath the surface.

Why did we go to such lengths to protect the fragile minds of children? We only robbed them of the truth—and the chance to grow numb to it before it arrived with a hard knock on the door.

How had I only just learned that happiness and fulfillment were entirely distinct things?

I realized my grief was richer and more nuanced than what lay on the surface. This was about more than the burden of the apothecary. More than James' infidelity. Intermingled in the mess was another subtler secret that James and I had hid from each other for years. We were happy, yet unfulfilled. It was possible, I understood now, to be both at the same time. I was happy with the stability of working for my family yet unfulfilled by my job and burdened by the things I hadn't pursued. I was happy with our desire to someday have children yet unfulfilled by my achievements apart from family life. How had I only just learned that happiness and fulfillment were entirely distinct things?

every woman has faced a man’s wickedness to some degree.

The unknown had once been an unpleasant concept to me, but I realized now the opportunity in it. The excitement in it.

My mother had held tight to this principle, instilling in me from an early age the importance of providing a safe haven - a place of healing - females.

If felt as though the universe, in her strange and nonsensical way, meant to reach out to me, to remind me of the enthusiasm I once had for the trifling bits of bygone eras, if only I could look beneath the dirt that had accumulated over time.

The best apothecary was one who knows intimately the despair felt by her patient, whether in body or heart.

For many of these women," Nella whispered, "this may be the only place their names are recorded. The only place they will be remembered. It is a promise I made to my mother, to preserve the existence of these women whose names would otherwise be erased from history. The world is not kind to us...There are few places for a woman to leave an indelible mark." I finished tracing an entry, moving on to the next one. "But this register preserves them -- their names, their memories, their worth.

Heartache is shared by all, and favors no rank.

You cannot be betrayed by someone you do not trust

we were happy, yet unfulfilled. It was possible, I understood now, to be both at the same time.

Killing and secret-keeping had done this to me. It had begun to rot me from the inside out, and something inside meant to tear me open.

Healing by way of vengeance.