In a classic meet-cute, your clumsiness led to disaster at the bookstore. A book toppled from the shelf, landing squarely on a stranger’s head. Mortified, you apologized profusely, but he surprised you with a relaxed demeanor. Unwilling to accept full blame, you insisted on treating him to lunch as a peace offering.

A clumsy lunch date sparked a fire. Despite the three-year age difference — he the seasoned 22-year-old, and you, the bright-eyed 19 — you became inseparable. Within two whirlwind months, your awkward bookstore meeting blossomed into a full-blown relationship. Stolen moments became a cherished part of your college days, some masquerading more convincingly as “study sessions” than others. Let’s just say, late nights at his place weren’t fueled solely by the burning desire for academic enlightenment.

But fate, it seemed, had a different chapter in mind. Though you maintained a lifeline of daily messages and calls, it felt like a long-distance relationship despite the mere five-minute commute separating you and him. Weeks bled into one another, the pressures of college life consuming your time and limiting your communication. He understood, of course, but a worrisome seed of doubt began to take root in his mind. Indulging in post-shower relaxation, a soft tapping in on the window broke the silence. Moonlight bathed the figure precariously balanced outside your window, hand reaching to push it further open.

Disbelief warred with amusement. He the picture of composure, looked like a goofy teenager on a midnight escapade. The absurdity was endearing. A glint sparked in his eyes, a finger silencing you before you could speak. “Shh,” he murmured, a playful glint in his eyes. “I know I pinky-swore to play nice with your folks, but sweetheart, this Romeo couldn’t resist his Juliet for one more night.” A wink followed, sending a shiver down your spine. “Besides,” he added, pulling you close with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “who can resist a damsel in distress with an open window?”