I shoved my bag on him and ran to the toilet stall.Then he put his arms around me | Dating

i am the most romantic person i know. I don’t believe in soul mates or ‘1’s. I believe we can fall in love with anyone.

Given my realistic outlook on love, my overly romantic boyfriend Stephen* calls me a ruthless woman.

Some girlfriends might get offended by it, but I find it pretty funny.

We started dating on the precipice of a pandemic. The beginning of our relationship felt like the car was stalling. Between restrictions, lockdowns, and living an hour away from each other, we rarely spent time together outside our homes.

It’s been 6 months into our relationship and it’s August 2020. It’s my father’s birthday and it’s a sunny day. We couldn’t go far, so we all drove to the beach, had lunch, and sunbathed. Stephen then planned to drive home for his 50 minutes.

sun on my face I laughed with my family. Fish and chips with plenty of tartar sauce. What more could a girl want? My heart is happy.

Unfortunately, that happy heart didn’t last long.

Towards the end of lunch, my stomach started to hurt. I chugged the water and ignored it. we were on the beach No one likes going to the bathroom on the beach.

20 minutes went by and I was dripping with sweat. After lunch, can she go home in 20 minutes?

I suddenly remembered three espresso martinis and a 3am oily kebab at the recently reopened bar last night. Breakfast heaps of dairy are mingled with creamy tartar sauce smothered over battered fish and greasy chips.

Another 10 minutes passed.At this point my toilet need was so pronounced that I became paranoid. felt My gut slowly breaks down fish and chips.

Another 5 minutes pass. Stephen and my parents are preparing to leave. But too late for me. “I need to find the toilet,” I said absentmindedly. My parents looked at me, glanced at Stephen, and gauged his reaction.

Stephen turns to my parents immediately. “She’s okay. I’ll wait with her and take her home with her.”

I was too happy to say anything, so I responded with a groan. I grabbed Steven’s hand and pulled him towards the bathroom, then quickly shoved my bag against him and ran into the stall.

Stephen then wrapped his arms around me and kissed me lightly on the lips. We return to his car. He has my hand in one hand and my handbag in the other. He drives me home, says goodbye, and then makes an hour drive back to his house.

Still reeling from the phone near my bathroom, the heroism of his actions only came to me when my dad raised them.

He said with the same solemn look on his face. He actually made an effort to wait on you while you used the restroom.

“There aren’t many men that sweet.”

I already knew I loved Stephen. But the fact that he didn’t laugh at me during one of my most humiliating moments made me realize how much I could trust him. He was someone who could see me sometimes.

Who said I’m not romantic?

Only six months later, I asked Stephen to park the car by the roadside near McDonald’s. I ate a particularly spicy yakiniku and went home. Then he laughed at me.

*The name has been changed