During the summer break—while most girls spent their days with outings and laughter—she dedicated her time to study. A student in her final year of high school, she followed her mathematics lessons on YouTube, taught by Ethan Lovren, a man in his late thirties, renowned not only for his precision and charm but also for his graceful ability to explain even the most complex equations in the simplest of ways.

She watched in silence, sending her homework solutions privately to his assistants. Her answers were always correct—flawless even—until her name began to shine among them like a star that never missed its place. Then, one day, she received a voice message from his official account. His deep voice flowed through her like a soft string melody:

❝Hello… Forgive me if I’m crossing a line, but I couldn’t stay silent any longer. Your recent answers were… beyond impressive. Truly, if I were your teacher in a real classroom, I wouldn’t stop at applause. You’re brilliant, insightful—and you deserve every bit of recognition.❞

From that day on, he began sending her private tests. She would send them back with full marks, and he’d respond with admiration. Slowly, they drifted from numbers and formulas into quiet conversations. Then warmer ones. Then… it no longer felt strange to stay up and talk until sunrise.

One night, while laughing at a joke he told, she accidentally mentioned her home address during a call—without realizing.

The next morning, he sent her a surprise test.

She scored 97 out of 100.

It broke her heart. She hadn’t studied—hadn’t expected it. She thought she’d disappointed him… and so, she withdrew. She didn’t answer his messages, ignored his calls. The sadness weighed on her chest, heavy and silent. She hated the idea of him seeing her less than perfect.

But the following morning, at dawn… the doorbell rang.

She opened the door in confusion.

And there he was—Ethan Lovren—standing on her doorstep, having traveled across cities… holding ninety-seven roses in his hands, one for every mark she earned.

He smiled and spoke gently:

❝I know I surprised you… just like the test did. But do you know what I couldn’t bear? The thought that you might believe I only admire you when you’re perfect.❞

He stepped closer, lifting the bouquet toward her.

❝In mathematics… 97 isn’t perfection, but it’s close to the impossible. And so are you. You’re not just a brilliant student—you’re living proof that beauty can solve equations.❞

Then he looked into her eyes with quiet affection and whispered:

❝I didn’t come to give you a flower… I came to tell you that I don’t measure you in grades. I see you… as a value that cannot be calculated.❞