Love at First Sight: After becoming a doctor, the wait for marriage began. However, none of the marriage proposals my parents received for me were to their liking, and as the years went by, I began to feel that I was growing older.
The pressure from relatives and neighbors made it even harder, and I wanted to get married before reaching the age where their sarcastic comments would become unbearable.
Then one day, when I returned from the hospital, I saw a young man standing in front of our house on his bike, as if waiting for someone. At first, I didn’t pay much attention to him.
Our neighborhood was in an upscale area where bikes were rare, and the young man seemed out of place. His face was neither too bright nor too ordinary, but there was a certain sparkle in his eyes that I noticed for the first time. He stood there so quietly that it seemed like this scene was his daily routine. But as I got back into my everyday life, I noticed that he came there almost every day, always sitting on his old bike, quietly waiting.
He was gentle and handsome, and although he looked poor with his old bike, there was something about him that attracted me.
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I noticed that when I walked past him, he would lower his head, but as soon as I entered the house, he would look up for a moment. It had become a routine: I would see him, and each time my heart would beat a little faster. But who was he? And why was he waiting there every day?
At first, I was confused, but as the days went by, I began to feel happy that someone was waiting for me. Whenever I saw him, my heart would start pounding faster.
Could it be that I had fallen in love with him? As a young woman, I had only one wish: to get married before I grew too old and had to face the critical comments of relatives and neighbors.
His old bike clearly indicated that he wasn’t wealthy, but I didn’t mind at all. I had always believed that love wasn’t about material wealth but about values and kindness. Every day of waiting for him, his way of looking at me, it all held a special meaning.
One day when he got closer, there was something different in his eyes. I felt that he was trying to tell me something, but the words didn’t come to him. Over time, I started to believe that he loved me too. But then the question arose—why wasn’t he talking to my father about marriage?
Was he afraid that my father would reject him because of his lower status? I reassured myself that if he truly loved me, the difference in wealth wouldn’t matter. I would accept him, no matter how poor he was.
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A month passed, and yet, nothing changed. I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to know why he wasn’t taking the next step. Why hadn’t he spoken to my father? Why hadn’t he asked me to marry him? Eventually, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
One day, I gathered the courage and walked up to him while he was sitting on his bike as usual, with his head down. When he saw me approaching, he looked up, surprised. My heart was racing, and I asked, “Why do you stand in front of our house for hours every day?”
He paused for a moment, then simply replied, “Sister, because your Wi-Fi doesn’t have a password.”
I stood there, stunned, my heart sinking. This whole time, I had believed in a love story that wasn’t going to happen. But perhaps it was all because I had let my hopes get ahead of reality and deluded my heart into a misunderstanding.
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