We're getting married!

It was a rainy afternoon, and like always, I was at my usual spot in the coffee shop when she walked in, completely unaware that she was about to turn my day upside down. One moment, I was sipping my coffee; the next—a hot latte was dripping down my shirt. I looked up, ready to be annoyed, but then our eyes met, and for some reason, I forgot why I was supposed to be mad. Grabe. Sobrang latte-na. She stammered an apology, flustered, before quickly offering, “Let me buy you another one?” I smirked, shaking my head. “Clark,” I said, extending a hand. “Rhy,” she replied, still looking guilty. As we stood at the counter, waiting for our drinks, I took my first sip—and maybe, just maybe, my first taste of something even sweeter.