The Introspection of Imogen Card

Imogen had ended it with me the day after my birthday, when she'd discovered I was still a virgin. We'd been walking back from town and it had been different. We weren't holding hands any more. We weren't saying all that much to each other. We'd booked our place on the crossing just four hours earlier, and it had seemed at the time like we were planning some sort of impromptu honeymoon. There was no event or comment that seemed to mark any sort of turning point after the tickets were in our hands; there was no moment that I could look upon in retrospect as the instant where suddenly the chemistry dissolved. We just faded. We ran out of things to talk about.

A day trip to France goes wrong when a young man's ex disappears during a chanel crossing.