She wasn’t sure how it had happened. Maybe it was the foolhardy way he held his coffee or the untamed way his hair curled, messy yet stylishly, framing his winsome face. When he said, “Hello…” his warm baritone melted into her ears. Her heart skipped every time he spoke and she was smitten. Almost immediately she knew…

Twenty years later it was that same baritone making it impossible to be upset with him, but the way he held his coffee…. She kept reaching over to tip it up so that it didn’t spill, reminding him to be cautious. He was often a bit careless like that and she used to find it charming. She reached up and stroked the stray curl of hair that had fallen out of place over his forehead. She offered a wavering smile before they went in the building. She wasn’t as certain about things anymore.

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