"You're right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned anything."

Sam looked at Farah and opened his mouth to speak.

"I'm glad you recognized that." He checked his watch and then looked back up at Farah, a sly smile curling the sides of his mouth. "And since we don't have to talk about my ex, maybe we could fill the space with something else."

He stood and crossed the space between them with two strides. Within thirty seconds, they were back in bed, clothes on the floor and envelope forgotten.

***

Farah stared up at the dark ceiling. Something in her gut felt off, but she couldn't quite place her finger on it. Sam was lying next to her, snoring softly; the two had had a busy day of staying inside Sam's apartment and not doing much of anything.

Farah thought back to that morning. Is that why I feel off? It was like a phantom pain—she didn't know if there was anything to be concerned about, but there was a chance that something was wrong. She couldn't stop thinking about Sam's tone during their argument—cold and emotionless, as if everything that made him the person she had fallen in love with evaporated at the first sign of discord.

The feeling gnawed at her until she got out of bed, careful not to disturb Sam, and walked out of the apartment, closing the door quietly behind her. She stood in the dim hallway and looked at her phone. 11:29 PM.

Farah took three deep breaths, counting four seconds to inhale, holding each breath for seven seconds, and exhaling for eight. She felt a bit better, and the feeling in the pit of her stomach started to fade for a few moments. But then it returned in full force, spreading up her chest until she could physically feel the ache in her body.

She shook her head, willing the feeling away. She loved Sam. She loved everything about him, and no relationship was going to be perfect. No relationship was without its bumps. This tiny argument was one of theirs. There was absolutely, positively no reason for Farah to be so dramatic about it.

She walked back inside the apartment and climbed back into bed beside Sam, who was still snoring as peacefully as ever. Farah snuggled herself up against him and fell asleep within minutes.

***

Farah woke up in her own bed on Valentine's Day, wondering if Sam was going to do anything for her before they went to dinner that night. She hadn't had a boyfriend on Valentine's Day since high school, so she wasn't sure if expecting anything more than dinner was overkill.

She walked out into her kitchen, stretching and yawning as she did. She poured herself a bowl of cereal and almost missed the bouquet of flowers resting on the kitchen table on her way back to her room.

Farah grinned sheepishly and walked over to the flowers, setting her bowl down and seeing a pack of Reese's peanut butter cups behind the flowers. There was a card there, and when she opened it, there was a small heart drawn next to Sam.

Farah touched one of the roses lightly, tracing the curve of its petals with her index finger. The roses were beautiful—an assortment of red and pink flowers in full bloom. There was a part of her that she pushed away, but it felt a certain pang of disappointment that Sam had dropped off the flowers instead of greeting her and handing them to her himself. But that was silly. He was always making these kind gestures. And Farah was grateful.

She expressed that gratitude at dinner.

"The roses were beautiful. Thank you." Farah looked at Sam sitting across the table from her, dressed in a black button-down shirt that made his dark hair appear even darker. "It was a wonderful surprise to wake up to."

"I'm glad you liked them." Sam replied, looking down at the special Valentine's Day menu that the host had set in front of him. His eyebrows furrowed together a bit as he examined the little laminated sheet.

Farah looked down at her own menu, skimming the different options. They all looked delicious, but there was a parmesan-crusted chicken entrée that was jumping off of the page. The menu listed four courses, with the option to select one thing in each course. Farah glanced up at Sam again, who had yet to look up from the menu.

"Do we know what we'd like to order?" Their waitress popped up by Farah's right shoulder, and Sam's head shot right up.

"Um, yeah...is this the only menu? I looked up your website and it had a different menu listed."

The waitress nodded.

"This is our only menu available tonight. Since Valentine's Day is our busiest day of the year, we set it up this way to keep things as organized as possible for our chefs." She looked between the two of them, "I can give you some more time to look over the menu, if you'd like."

"That's fine, we can order." Sam said, not looking at Farah.

They both ordered their food and Farah was conscious of picking the least expensive item on the menu. Sam seemed put off by the menu for one reason or another, so she figured it would be safest to order something that would be the least likely to upset him.

***

The check came at the end of the meal and Sam took it. He scanned it before finding the number at the bottom and tried his hardest not to sigh audibly. He didn't want Farah to think he was cheap—he had noticed that she ordered the only option under $40. But he was trying to get through his last semester of college and had quit his job in the food court when it started to interfere with his schoolwork. His bank account balance only went down now and having a girlfriend made that number absolutely plummet.

Farah did the fake-reaching-for-her-wallet thing and Sam shook his head.

"I've got it, don't worry."

"Are you sure?" Farah's expression was hard to read, but Sam could sense the pity behind it. That only aggravated him more.

"Yes, I'm sure." He tucked his debit card into the check and set it on the edge of the table. With tip, this dinner was going to be over $100.

"Thank you." Farah said softly.

Sam glanced up at her and couldn't help but smile.

"Of course. Happy Valentine's Day, baby."