"I thought you loved me."

Skulduggery ignored her, taking off his hat and staring with empty eye-sockets at the sky. It was a rainy day, the air thick with fog and the grass seeming to wilt under the weight of the rain.

Skulduggery didn't notice any of these things, instead clenching his jaw and removing the flowers from their plastic bag. At a week old they were more than wilted, close to death if not already lifeless.

"Ooh, roses. My favorite! You never did buy any for me, though. Why now? Are you feeling guilty?"

The lady at the register had remarked that Valentine's day was coming closer and wondered why Skulduggery was buying flowers so early. He had swiped his credit card, his fake mouth smiling fondly.

"We don't celebrate that holiday, she hates it. Says I should buy chocolates for her anyway," he had replied. "She's invited me over, you see. I thought I would bring some roses."

He knelt down and the knee of his suit was made wet. He didn't really care that much. He kept his appearance impeccable for other people's sakes, and there was no one left to see him.

"I hate you."

He laid the flowers on her grave, nestling them close to the stone and pushing them down so you could see her name. Stephanie. But that wasn't her proper name.

"What's her name?" The woman had asked, smiling politely.

"Valkyrie Cain."

"That's an odd name, isn't it?"

"Yes, well," he chuckled. "She's an odd girl."

The ghost of her that always lingered caressed his mind with her cruel smile and wrapped her paper-thin arms around him.

"Why didn't you save me, Skulduggery?" She sobbed. "You promised you would."

His hat was crushed in his gloved hand as he remembered the hopeless feeling, the sight of her on the ground with a slash across her wrist. The razor had still been warm with her touch.

"I don't know." His voice cracked. "I wish I knew."

"I suppose you must love each other very much! You describe her in such an affectionate way."

"Oh," said Skulduggery, grabbing the bag and starting towards the doors. "I love her more than my own life. Don't tell her, though; I won't ever hear the end of it."