No really, it's not my life. It's just another trashy romance novel.

You look so fucking adorable in that hat, he said.

He cocked his head to one side and examined her, trying to memorize her face in that moment -- a moment for another season, another subway station. Another couple.

One last kiss, she said.

Their lips brushed gently, sadly.

Good night, he said. She knew it was goodbye, and she knew he meant it.

She felt like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders, and she knew, in that moment, she'd always miss it.