Her cold eyes hide behind a cold smile. Another day, same places. This is agony. Her tastes are champagne. The dozen roses are, well nice. The home made dinner is cheap. Obviously, he doesn’t know the price of her dress. And the shoes.
“Happy Valentines Day!” Allen looks at Elaine. Her red dress clings in the right way. His smile beams.
His modest home prefumed with Italian food. An afternoon working to prepare the perfect meal. Part of it on his red collared shirt. The roses, the quick escape for her. They fit her so well.
She stands like a statue. This isn’t right. “Are we staying in for the night, really? “