James watched as Violet's backside grew more and more distant.

"Your ex-girlfriend or something?" the taxi driver asked.

"Or something," James agreed silently. "I'll pay all at once at my stop," he said out loud.

Or something . . . That something had not been too long ago. The feelings were still fresh in his mind, but the memories were blurred. Until he had seen her just then, he had forgotten the small details of Violet's features. The specific upturn of her nose, the faint freckles dusting her cheeks, the exact way she made him feel.

He had been so ready to tell her that he had moved on. But maybe the fact that he had been preparing was telling of how it was all a lie. Violet wouldn't care, anyway. She had "Greg" now. A charming man

who would take her to dinner for Valentines Day. Probably to an upscale restaurant. Most likely the exact opposite of James.

He was only good for paying the $5, it seemed. But the way she left gnawed at him. The thought in his mind begged for attention. Why had she left so hurriedly? Was it because she couldn't stand being in a confined space with him? Or was it something else?

"Can you please stop here?"

The taxi driver complied. "$12, please."

He dug out the cash and opened the door. The taxi left him standing out on the street, stranded between his apartment building and his past spoils.