34. All Good Things Come to an End

There’s a snapshot of wit in the air as she, with a glamour that could outshine the chandelier, delivers a line that’s a velvet glove to his ego. “You lasted,” she teases, with a smirk that could write novels. His answer is the verbal equivalent of a raised glass and a rueful smile, “Bad things don’t last.”

It’s a playful jab wrapped in the velvet of her voice, hinting that perhaps there’s a backstory as rich as the tapestry they’re a part of. Their exchange is like a dance of old flames who know each other’s steps all too well, a cheeky acknowledgment that their tango might be short-lived but never short on style.