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“He’s ten years older than you?” I asked Molly. Molly, at that time, was in her senior year, and I in my junior. She had been one of the first to make me feel at home in university, and I respected her and enjoyed her friendship.

“Yes.” She smiled. “We joke that if he acts five years younger, and I act five years older, we’ll meet in the middle.”

I smile too. They are incredibly sweet.

“Just out of curiosity,” I ask, “Why didn’t you date any guys here?”

“The guys here are good friends, but I certainly wouldn’t date any of them.”

I have to agree—most are immature.

A week later, she has an engagement ring—the one that was his mother’s. They love each other a lot. That summer, they have their wedding. I love the pictures where they’re both smiling and kissing at the same time.

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