His girlfriend was out of town traveling for work, so he decided to ask a different woman out on a date. He invited her over and pretended that he lived there alone. He explained that his “friend”, a successful tattoo artist, owned the place and let him stay there.

He could never afford to live in a place like that on his own, so he needed to have a plausible explanation. Plus, the space was filled with her art and books; it’s not like he could just erase her presence just because she was in a different state.

In his spare time, he liked to tinker with bikes. He showed his date pictures of beautiful landscapes that he encountered on his bike rides. He offered to take her there. “I have a bike that could fit you,” he said, thinking of his girlfriend’s bike. Her eyes lit up in delight, and he felt some unexpected guilt. Her guile and sincerity moved him.

He had sex with her anyway, and he was a perfect gentleman as he walked her to the train station the next morning. She kissed him on the lips and told him she’d see him later. He told her goodbye, her name leaving a residual sweetness on his tongue. As his eyes lingered over her departing figure, he knew he would never see her again.