It was Devon’s 21st birthday, and like any responsible college student, she wasn’t at the library. She was exactly where fate intended her to be: Olde Queens Tavern at Rutgers University. For many, this was a rite of passage—and ironically, a familiar one; both their mothers had celebrated there decades earlier. Perhaps it was destiny, or perhaps it was simply a taste for good bars. It was their mutual friend who introduced them. There were no awkward introductions over shots, no shouting over the crowd—just an instant connection. When summer arrived, Jack made his next move. It wasn’t a clever pick-up line; he enrolled in a summer class at Rutgers. This wasn’t for extra credits; it was for Devon. More time with her, more playlists, more purpose. After college, they moved to Hoboken, their first taste of adulthood. Their tiny apartment came with an oversized couch and endless orders of penne vodka and pizza. Hoboken transformed from a mere commuting hub into a canvas for lazy Sunday mornings, strolls to their favorite bagel shops and coffee houses, and a growing collection of memories. Eight years later, here they are—not because it was easy, but because it was right.