It was Saturday, May 25th. The weather was perfect—a rare balance, neither too cold nor too warm, unusual yet comforting for that time of year.

I was looking after the children while Andrea and Boris were at the hospital. Every day, my culinary skills were put to the test. One child wanted pancakes, another begged for pepperoni pizza, while someone always demanded plain cheese pizza. Spinach and broccoli pizza? It was avoided like the plague, and I still don’t understand why.

To be fair, studying didn’t take up much of my time, so I pursued cooking as a hobby, mostly out of love and curiosity. But I certainly didn’t look the part of a chef. My clothes bore the marks of my culinary battles—dirty, stained, and covered in flour. If you inspected closely, you’d even find olive oil spots here and there. The children’s requests were almost impossible at times, and I raced around the house like lightning, trying to keep up with their endless demands. In those moments, my appearance was the least of my concerns.

That day in May, just as I was serving breakfast, I heard the doorbell ring. It sounded unusually loud, almost as if destiny itself had rung. I assumed it was Boris or Andrea, perhaps returning for something they’d forgotten. I walked to the door, opened it, and froze.

The words left me, and I stood there, enchanted. A shiver ran through my soul, and my eyes drank in the sight before them. He was the kind of man you only see in fleeting dreams—tall, dark, impossibly handsome. A living embodiment of every cliché in romance novels and late-night fantasies.

I wondered what he thought when he saw me—my hair a mess, a strand falling awkwardly over one eye, my clothes covered in flour, and a worn-out teenage sweater hanging off me in all the wrong ways.

Then, just as quickly, I stopped caring. I continued to admire him, savoring every moment. Had I fallen in love at first sight? I wasn’t sure, but I wanted to. I wanted to fall as deeply as possible, with every fiber of my being.

Is this real? I asked myself. Could this be more than just my imagination? In front of me stood a stranger who, with one look, offered the promise of a new life.