You’re 16 years old and of course, being a girl and all, you started getting into boys. It was bound to happen during puberty. Your dad hated the thought. He was a very old fashioned man. He expected to be asked of your hand, for you and your mom to be brought flowers and to have father-son trips with your future boyfriend.

So, clearly, he was a very strict man. Wouldn’t just let anyone date you. He wanted the best of the best.

But you didn’t care for all that. You wanted an honest guy that liked you. And damn if you didn’t find just that? Max was picture perfect. He was handsome and funny and made you laugh, while also making you feel comfortable enough to be cringe without getting judged.

You’ve been talking with him for the past year and the flirting got more and more obvious until one night.

He asked the question.