She came over to me in a coffee shop while she was on vacation in my country, to ask how to tip. We had a two-hour conversation, and then an amazing five-hour lunch two days later.
She complained about her hostel, and I offered her my spare bedroom. She accepted. Nothing happened although it seems crystal-clear in retrospect that we were falling for each other (duh). I didn’t want to be douche and make her feel uncomfortable under my roof, so putting the moves on her was not something I seriously considered.
Two nights later, I had to be gone for most of the night, on a work assignment, and I asked if she would please watch and walk my dog in my absence. I came home at 5 am and was greeted by my suddenly very soft, fluffy dog. She had somehow understood “Will you please wash my dog,” and apparently didn’t find that a strange request at all.
The next evening, after we’d been talking over a bottle of wine for hours, it seems she’d had enough of my apparent indecisiveness, took the wine glass out of my hand, put it down, and leaned in for a kiss.
That was 26 years ago. We’ve been married 23 years.
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