The moonlight streamed through the window panes, casting on angelic glow on her ivory face. She lay draped on the couch, hair spread about the pillow like a golden halo, an untouched glass of champagne sitting on the coffee table beside her. How beautiful she was, even now. As I watched her, I couldn’t help but smile inwardly. Here I was, a self-professed Valentine’s Day cynic who scoffed at all things romantic, treating a girl to a candle-lit dinner and champagne on the one night of the year I had sworn to hate, complete with a heart-shaped box of tiny chocolates and a cutesy Hallmark card that, a few months ago, might’ve made me gag. I guess love can do…