Some couples meet once. We keep meeting. We grew up ten minutes apart in Chesapeake, Virginia, same hometown, same streets, and somehow never crossed paths. That would have to wait for college. We first met in the fall of 2019, our freshman year at Virginia Tech, introduced by a mutual friend under Torgersen Bridge. To this day, we both remember that exact spot, the very first time we stood face to face. Neither of us knew yet what it would become. Life kept nudging us back together. We ended up waiting tables at the Olive Garden back home, two servers who clicked all over again. Danielle, never one to wait around, flirted, invited Bill out, and finally asked him on a date. Twice he had to cancel, and twice the story simply reset. A couple of weeks later, Bill invited Danielle to a party. That same friend who'd first introduced them turned out to be his college roommate, and the party was happening thirty feet across the street from where Danielle already stood. Some things you can't plan. On November 5, 2021, we made it official. On October 5, 2025, Bill proposed at the Chicago Botanic Garden. A lifetime ten minutes apart, a first meeting under Torgersen Bridge, and a string of impossible coincidences later, we've stopped calling it luck. It was always going to be us.