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“When can I see you?”

“Soon,” I said, “but not Tuesday.”

“Why not Tuesday?”
“It’s Valentine’s Day.”
“Do you have plans?”
“No, that’s the whole point.”
He laughed, brushed the hair back from my face, kissed my cheek. “Okay, bella. Not Tuesday. How is Thursday?”
He laughed again.  “For such a hopeless romantic, you are certainly opposed to the one day of the year dedicated to love.”
“It’s a cliché.  Besides, all true romantics know that everyday is just as dedicated to love as the next.  Just send me some roses.”
“No, bella.  Roses are too cliché for a love as unique as this.”

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