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It was ten past six on the night of fourth of July and Julie was just leaving the office. Most other employees had been given the day off to celebrate, but not her. She supposed she could have been at home enjoying the festivities had she not been a work-a-holic with avoidance issues, but it was easier to blame her boss then blame herself. She sighed as she slid into her car, unbuttoning the top button of her fitted jacket and leaned her head against the headrest. As relieved she was to finally be off, she was not looking forward to the rest of the evening. The 4th of July had long been Julie's favorite holiday, in large part because of the massive lake parties thrown by her extended family. She had went all through her childhood, adolescence, and early twenties. The last five years, however, had been spent with her then boyfriend, Marcus, who himself had become a holiday staple to herself and her family. It had been at one of these such events that they had gotten together for the first time; it was where she was sure he would've proposed this year had things not gotten so messed up. Mark had been a family friend forever, and grown up with Julie in the same town. He was four years older, which is what had taken them so long to get together in the first place. Everyone always said they knew they'd end up together, including the two of them. But things had changed.

Just before Halloween the year before, Mark had reached a new level of distant after he got a promotion at his job, and by Thanksgiving he was packing his things and saying his good-byes. Through the grapevine, Julie found out he was seeing the receptionist in his new office, and ...

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