I’ll never forget our first date. The restaurant glowed softly, and my nerves were buzzing with hope. Then she looked at the waiter and asked, “What’s the priciest item on your menu?” My heart stopped. He described a seafood platter that cost more than my month’s groceries. I braced myself, wondering if I’d just made a mistake. Gently, I asked if that was really what she wanted. She laughed. “No—that’s my first-date test.”
She explained: “If someone orders it to impress, I know appearances matter more than connection. If they get upset, they can’t handle stress. But if they stay calm, I know they value the moment more than the menu.” What had felt like a red flag instantly became fascinating. We ordered pasta instead, and soon the tension melted. Hours disappeared as we traded stories about family, dreams, and futures.
That strange question turned a stressful evening into one of the most meaningful of my life. By the time I walked her to her car, the nerves were gone—replaced by an undeniable connection. Today, she’s my wife.
We still laugh about how rattled I was, and she still playfully asks the same question when we go out. Every time, I’m reminded: love isn’t about expensive meals or grand gestures—it’s about patience, honesty, and choosing each other, again and again.