I met my boyfriend at work. At the time, I was working in a jewelry shop between university classes, doing my usual rounds around the store when he walked in. It was his birthday, and he had decided to buy himself a gift. I ended up helping him choose it. What started as a simple interaction quickly turned into something more—there were jokes, easy conversation, and an undeniable chemistry between us. But after that, it seemed like just one of those small moments you share with a stranger and then move on from.

Or at least, that’s what I thought.

A few days later he followed me on social media, and we started talking. Then we started meeting up. Sometimes he would stop by the shop “to buy something,” though it was pretty clear after a while that the purchases were just an excuse to see me. One thing led to another, and before I knew it, he was my boyfriend.

From the beginning, what struck me about him was how hardworking he was. He understood my routine—the long days between university and my job, the little time I had for anything else—and he never complained about it. If anything, he seemed to admire it. Maybe the fact that I was always studying or working gave him some kind of good impression, because he never once made me feel guilty for being busy.

Another thing I learned pretty quickly was that he had a habit of spoiling me. I don’t think I ever once reached for my wallet when I was with him. And I certainly never had to ask for flowers. If I casually mentioned liking something, he would remember it and show up with it later. It was sweet—almost dangerously sweet—because I quickly realized that if I pointed at something while we were shopping, there was a very real chance he would buy it for me. After a while, I stopped doing that entirely. I didn’t want to feel like I was taking advantage of his generosity.

Then my birthday came.

I had organized a lunch with my family and a few friends. He arrived early, just before everyone sat down. In his hands he carried a small bouquet for my mother, another little one for my younger sister, and for me… an enormous bouquet filled with my favorite flowers. In his other hand he held a jewelry shop bag and a soft pink envelope.

I stood up from my chair, slightly flustered by the gesture. He looked proud of himself, smiling in that quiet way of his, though I could tell he was also a little shy with all the guests watching.

“Aww, thank you so much,” I said, trying to hide the way my face had turned completely red. “You really shouldn’t have.”