\nI never looked forward to see my high school teacher years later in the middle of a crowded farmers\u2019 market. But there he was, calling my name like no time had passed. This led something I never could\u2019ve imagined.\n
When I was in high school, Mr. Harper was the teacher everyone admired. He was out-going, funny, and a handsome teacher.
\n\u201cClaire, great analysis on the Declaration of Independence essay,\u201d he told me once after class. \u201cYou\u2019ve got a sharp mind. Ever thought about law school?\u201d\n
I remember shrugging awkwardly, tucking my notebook against my chest. \u201cI don\u2019t know\u2026 Maybe? History\u2019s just\u2026 easier than math.\u201d\n
Life happened fastly. I graduated, moved to the city, and left those high school memories behind. Or so I thought.\n
I was 24 and back in my sleepy hometown, wandering through the farmers\u2019 market when a familiar voice stopped me in my tracks.\n
\u201cClaire? Is that you?\u201d\n
Except now, he wasn\u2019t \u201cMr. Harper.\u201d He was just Leo.\n
\u201cMr. Har\u2014I mean, Leo?\u201d I stumbled over the words, feeling my cheeks heat.\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t have to call me \u2018Mr.\u2019 anymore.\u201d\n
\u201cYou still teaching?\u201d I asked.\n
\u201cYeah,\u201d Leo said.\n
\u201cDifferent school now, though. Teaching high school English these days.\u201d\n
\u201cEnglish?\u201d I teased. \u201cWhat happened to history? \u201d\n
He laughed, a deep, easy sound. \u201cWell, turns out I\u2019m better at discussing literature.\u201d\n
He told me about his years teaching the students who drove him crazy but made him proud, and the stories that stayed with him. I shared my time in the city: the jobs, the failed relationships, and my dream of starting a small business someday.\n
By the time we reached our third dinner\u2014this one at a cozy bistro lit by soft candlelight.\n
\u201cI\u2019m starting to think you\u2019re just using me for free history trivia,\u201d I joked as he paid the check.\n
\u201cBusted,\u201d he said with a grin, leaning in closer. \u201cThough I might have ulterior motives.\u201d\n
A year later, we stood under the sprawling oak tree in my parents\u2019 backyard, surrounded by fairy lights, the laughter of friends, and the quiet rustle of leaves.\n
It was a small, simple wedding, just as we loved it.\n
This wasn\u2019t the kind of love story I\u2019d ever imagined for myself, but it felt right in every way.\n
That night, after the last guest left and the house had fallen into a peaceful hush, Leo and I finally had a moment to ourselves.\n
\n
\u201cI have something for you,\u201d he said.\n
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. \u201cA gift? On top of marrying me? Bold move.\u201d\n
\u201cI thought you might like this.\u201d\n
\u201cWhat is this?\u201d\n
\u201cOpen it,\u201d he urged.\n
My handwriting. My heart skipped. \u201cWait\u2026 is this my old dream journal?\u201d\n
\u201cYou wrote it in my history class. Remember? That assignment where you had to imagine your future?\u201d\n
\u201cI completely forgot about this!\u201d I laughed, though my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. \u201cYou kept it?\u201d\n
\u201cNot on purpose,\u201d he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. \u201cWhen I switched schools, I found it in a box of old papers. I wanted to throw it out, but\u2026 I couldn\u2019t. It was too good.\u201d\n
\u201cGood?\u201d I flipped through the pages, reading fragments of teenage dreams. Starting a business. Traveling to Paris. Making a difference. \u201cThis is just the ramblings of a high schooler.\u201d\n
I stared at him, my throat tightening. \u201cYou really think I can do all this?\u201d\n
His hand covered mine. \u201cI don\u2019t think. I know. And I\u2019ll be here, every step of the way.\u201d\n
He smirked. \u201cGood. That\u2019s my job.\u201d\n
Over the next few weeks, I began to work my dream plan.\n
I quit the desk job I\u2019d never loved and lived rent-free in my head for years: a bookstore caf\u00e9.\n
\u201cDo you think people will actually come here?\u201d I asked him one night as we painted the walls of the shop.\n
He leaned on the ladder, smirking. \u201cYou\u2019re kidding, right? A bookstore with coffee? You\u2019ll have people lining up just to smell the place.\u201d\n
He wasn\u2019t wrong. By the time we opened, it wasn\u2019t just a business\u2014it was a part of the community.\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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