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A chance song in a bookstore sparks a whirlwind romance neither expected. |
Jeremy Stone had never been much for fate, but if fate existed, it wore the smell of old paper and ink. That was the scent he followed when the rain drove him off the streets of Manhattan and into a little hole-in-the-wall bookstore tucked between a dry cleaner and a coffee shop. The hand-painted sign above the door read The Bookworm. Inside, the air was warm, thick with the quiet hush of pages and shelves. Jeremy paused, shaking water from his jacket. He was still learning this city, still finding his footing at his new job at Comp-U-Tech, where he spent long hours in a white coat handling test tubes and calibrating machines. Life had become sterile, repetitive, until now. He wandered between the aisles, fingers trailing along spines, and softly hummed to himself. The sound system above had begun playing a familiar guitar line, slow and wistful. If I fell in love with you, would you promise to be true? Jeremy’s humming wasn’t as quiet as he thought. He closed his eyes, half lost in memory of long car rides with his father, who used to sing Beatles songs off-key. He didn’t notice the footsteps behind him until a clear, bright voice joined in. “...and if I trust in you, oh please, don’t run and hide...” Jeremy spun, startled. Standing behind him was a woman, her dark auburn hair tied back loosely, an apron smeared with faint ink stains. She smiled at him as though she’d been waiting her whole life for this exact moment. Without thinking, Jeremy picked up the next line. Together, they sang softly among the shelves, voices weaving through the quiet shop. Customers turned their heads, but no one interrupted. Their eyes never left each other until the song faded, leaving only the hum of the old speakers. Jeremy laughed, nerves bubbling up. “Guess I’m not as quiet as I thought.” “Guess not,” the woman said. Her voice was warm, teasing. “But you’ve got good taste in music.” “I’m Jeremy. Jeremy Stone.” She untied her apron, tucking it casually at her waist. “Samantha Hemlock. Welcome to The Bookworm.” From that instant, the bookstore ceased being just a shelter from the rain. It became the beginning of something neither of them could have scripted. One Sunday morning, Samantha pulled him up to the bookstore roof, a hidden escape where she grew potted herbs between cracked tiles. The skyline stretched endless, a jagged sea of glass. She put on another Beatles record, and they danced barefoot, the city roaring below. Jeremy’s heart felt like it had found its home. But reality, as it always does, crept in. Comp-U-Tech demanded long hours, new responsibilities. Samantha worried over bills, slow days at the shop. They argued one night, harsh words echoing in the narrow aisles of The Bookworm. Jeremy feared it was over before it truly began. Then Samantha reached behind the counter and lifted a worn book. Inside was a note in her looping script: If you fell, I’d catch you. Jeremy’s breath caught. He crossed the shop in two strides and kissed her, the kind of kiss that erased doubt and promised everything. The chapel glowed with soft candlelight, rows of smiling faces blurred into warmth around Samantha and Jeremy as they stood hand in hand before the reverend. Outside, Manhattan hummed, but in this place, time had slowed to a heartbeat. The reverend’s voice carried gently: “We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Jeremy Stone and Samantha Hemlock. They’ve chosen to share vows written from their own hearts. Samantha, would you like to begin?” Samantha’s eyes shimmered as she turned to Jeremy. Her voice trembled but never wavered. “Jeremy...you walked into my life on a rainy day, humming a song I loved, and in that instant, I knew something had changed. I promise to love you through the quiet days and the stormy ones, to remind you that you are never alone, and to choose you, always. You are my melody, my home, and my forever.” A hush fell, broken only by the reverend nodding toward Jeremy. “And now, Jeremy.” Jeremy smiled, slipping a folded paper from the pocket of his suit. He glanced at Samantha, breath catching at the sight of her radiant smile, and then began to read, voice steady but rich with emotion: “Now and then, the city fades, steel and glass dissolve to gray, yet your voice remains, a melody threading the silence. I find you between the shelves, ink-smudged fingers, eyes alight, turning paper into constellations, turning my doubt into dawn. Now and then, I lose myself, in lab reports, in numbers, in hours, but you are the anchor, the gentle chorus calling me home. I never believed in sudden falling, but you caught me mid-descent, teaching me that love is not an accident, but a choice made, again and again. So if the world should quiet, if tomorrow falters or bends, know this, I would choose you always, now and then.” When his voice broke on the last line, Samantha reached for his hand, eyes brimming. The guests stirred, more than a few brushing away tears. The reverend’s voice, warm and solemn, filled the silence. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Jeremy, you may kiss your bride.” Jeremy didn’t hesitate, he drew Samantha close, the applause swelling around them like music. And for just a moment, it felt as though the whole world had stopped, leaving only the two of them, bound together by a song, a poem, and a promise that would last beyond forever. Word Count: 936 |