Two years ago, we met the morning after Memorial Day — one of those ordinary days that turned out to be anything but.

It was just after 8 a.m., both of us heading to our local U.S. Representative’s office to handle personal affairs. I was finishing a phone call when I noticed a man walk past me and he noticed me — just a quick glimpse — nothing more. But as I turned the corner toward the office entrance, I heard footsteps behind me. Curious, I turned around. It was him.

There we were: two strangers in a quiet plaza corridor, early in the morning, no one else around. Looking over my shoulder I asked, “Are you following me?” He grinned and replied, “Well… if I was, could you blame me?” My response, “So you are following me.”

We were, coincidentally — or maybe fatefully — headed to the same place. He picked up the pace and held the door open for me. The office wasn’t ready to see anyone just yet, so we had about 15 minutes to talk. Just the two of us. In those few minutes, something sparked.

We exchanged numbers, and I sent a text when I got home saying how nice it was to meet him.

I had casually mentioned during our chat that I liked a local cafe. His response? Direct and intentional: “How about coffee this Friday at 6 p.m. at Pampered Palate?”

We didn’t speak again until the date. When I walked into the café, there he was — already seated, directly facing the door. Waiting just for me.

Funny enough, we don’t even remember drinking coffee that afternoon. We sat and talked — really talked — until the café closed. He told me about the history of honey, how it’s sacred, ancient, meant for royalty. Then, with a soft smile, he handed me a glass jar of it as a gift. Pure, golden, and sweet — just like the beginning of us.

He asked me to dinner that same night so we could keep talking. We went to a local Chinese restaurant... and we’ve been inseparable since.

What started as a chance encounter became a love story we didn’t see coming —

the kind of divine timing that blessed us with the beginning of our forever.