Harold & Cindy
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The air was crisp that afternoon, carrying the faint scent of cinnamon from a nearby café. Golden leaves swirled around our feet as we wandered through the park, coffee cups warming our hands.
He led me to an old wooden bench by the lake, saying the light was perfect there. I laughed, thinking he just wanted a photo, and leaned in close.
Before I could take a sip, he set his cup down, reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out a small velvet box.
“I want this season to stay with us forever,” he said softly.
The sunlight filtered through the amber leaves, catching the sparkle in his eyes. I didn’t even manage a word—just wrapped my arms around him, feeling the warmth of the coffee, the scent of autumn, and the promise of every season to come.
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Harold’s pick for Cindy
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