They met at the edge of an autumn evening — she was leaving a gallery opening, he had arrived late. The city was doing that thing it does in October, turning amber and smelling of rain on stone. They shared the only cab left on the block.

She told him the paintings were overrated. He had no opinion on the paintings but a great many on the cab ride. By the time they reached her stop, neither one got out. That night turned into a year, which turned into a forever. This November, Isabelle and James celebrate what began in the back of a yellow cab on a rainy October night.