"...He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not. Damn."
Eva dropped the stem to the floor and put the apple back in the fruit bin. This was apple number thirty-four of the morning, and she was gonna be good goddamned if she wasn't going to find a "he loves me" in this pile. Forty-two years of "he loves me not" was all she was going to take. She looked around the grocery store for produce attendants; the coast was clear. Eva grabbed a new apple and twisted the stem.
"...he loves me not. Damn."