Luggage in hand, "Thank you for the memories," he says.

Smiling wryly, she laughs a dry laugh, pushing him playfully, she asks, "Oh what memories?"

The elevator doors close around them. Drawn together in tight embrace. 15..14..13..12..11...10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1, crashing to the ground. They move apart, rehearsed and in sync.

They share a final few laughs at the check out counter. Happy times. The person behind the desk smiles and asks if they enjoyed their stay. We did, he says. Definitely enjoyable. He looks at her, and in his eyes a cheeky twinkle resides.

Final half embrace. The morning sun shines full in their faces, tracing out their every flaw. Come visit! he says. I will! she promises.

No looking back, she commands herself. She gets into the cab. Stoneyfaced; emotionless.

What they had was based on freedom. The freedom of no obligation. The freedom to be themselves. To be free. To be unattached, no strings, nothing holding them back. The freedom to be happy.

Tears streaming down her face. Still emotionless, she sits on her bed. Undecided, unsure. Of what to think, of what to feel.

Knowing guilt will hit her soon, justification is key. Justify, justify, justify.

Guilt holds form in many ways.

Back to reality. Back to commitment and the weight of obligation. For a split second, he taught her to be free. Thank you for the memories.