We met flipping burgers and wiping down counters, both of us wearing grease-stained aprons and tired smiles. It wasn’t glamorous—far from it—but somehow, in the middle of that bustling little burger joint, we found something rare. I was the manager back then, technically his boss, which he never lets me forget. Or maybe I never let him forget. Either way, it became our inside joke—how I was in charge then, and how, according to him, I never really stopped being the boss. I don't argue. The very first time our eyes met, there was this unspoken certainty. Like some invisible thread tied us together, tugging at something deeper. We didn’t say it aloud—who says things like that on a first meeting?—but we both knew. One day, we’d marry each other. No question, no hesitation. Just… knew. Now, as we plan our wedding and build our life together, we still tease each other about where it all began. About how I hired the love of my life. there’s a truth we both hold close: some love stories don’t need a dramatic beginning. Sometimes, they start with a shift schedule, a smile, and the quiet certainty that this—this—was meant to be.