My favorite thing I read last month was a romance novella

This one, in fact.

It’s so improbable (as the series title promises) and so satisfying and so cute and so sweet and so so so so so.

(This novella was fun as well.)

The novellas had me reflecting on Valentine’s Days and my own love story (friends to lovers, he falls first).

On Valentine’s Day 11 years ago, I received an orchid from a secret admirer. 

I was in grad school at the time, and spent the whole day on campus with my friends Katie, Hilary and Rob. The orchid was the most exciting thing to happen to any of us in a long time. We eagerly speculated who could have sent it. Was it the on/off guy who I really needed to be off with? Was it that one boy from church? Maybe someone I didn’t know very well at all? I was a TA. Omg maybe a student was obsessed with me!

At one point, Hilary called the florist and begged for answers, to no avail.

I carted the flower with me everywhere that day - to food, to class. Answering questions, telling the story. Laughing a lot.

It wasn’t until about six months later, after my friend Rob had confessed his feelings and we started dating, that I realized. “It was you! You sent me the orchid! You sat with me all day while I tried to figure out my secret admirer!” 

He nodded, “I’m glad the florist didn’t give me up.”

I laughed.

“I just wanted you to feel special on Valentine’s Day.”

I married him.