Girl arrived 30 minutes late, insisted she pay for dinner to absolve the guilt. Guy, not one to be upstaged, paid for it anyway.

Girl persisted she compensate for drinks. Guy caved.

Conversation flowed until the first rays of morning.

“I’m not looking for a relationship,” Girl declared in a haze of booze and cigarette smoke. Girl was certain.

“Me too,” Guy answered warily.

First dates couldn’t have gone any better. Theirs was something out of a romcom — flirty banter with a side of cheese.

With eyes half awake, he saw through the public face of a life in chaos and heard the hum of a hungry heart.

His soul was of a drifter seeking reprieve from uncertainty, hers was worn from tragedy.

However, it didn’t take much for her to love him. It only needed a leap of faith she wasn’t keen on taking.


Months passed and his moon tugged on the tides in her blood.

“I love you.” His stare all the treasures of Egypt.

He had the kindest eyes. Ones that sought hers and told her everything will be okay.

In that moment, she believed them.

“I love you, too.”

A dreadful weight was lifted as the proclamations hung in the air.

They breathed them in and the words permeated the lungs, the heart, the skin.

Such beautiful sin.

Gentlemen, send for the cavalry. The heroine has been slain.

One chapter has ended. Another one begins.