“Why would I give one rat fuck what you do! You’ve already made it clear you don’t want me around,” Shannon said gathering her things from the living room table. “When you stop to think about this later when you’re miserable and alone, you’ll regret this.”

Shannon turned and marched out of the cramped townhouse on Lewis drive and walked until she could see past the red haze.

The evening found Randall crying alone in a swan boat at Hanson lake. By all accounts it made everyone uncomfortable to watch a grown man sob into a sandwich while everyone else tried to enjoy a novelty ride.

That same evening saw Shannon devote two hours to a vigorous elliptical workout as her murder mystery audiobook drowned out any self reflection. She needed to hear about someone else’s tragedy when she burned calories.

The rest of the city attended to halfhearted attempts to drum up any remaining romance as the clock ticked closer to February 14th.