I didn’t fall in love with my husband in a bookstore, but I might as well have.
Early in our relationship my husband proved his love to me in a move worthy of a Captain Wentworth or a Mr. Darcy: he read a Jane Austen novel for me. As I read Persuasion (again) for a graduate course, my husband–a biophysical chemist, not a reader–kept pace with his own copy, getting to know Anne Elliott as he got to know me. I wore that read-along like a diamond.
Is it any wonder we’re living happily ever after?