As the days slipped quietly into one another, he would come to meet me almost every day whenever work was light. He walked me home, and each time he came, he brought little gifts, showering me with affection. Our relationship deepened, growing stronger with each passing moment. Summer arrived, warming the world around us. Though assignments and exams filled my days, I always found time for him.
At first, we simply held hands; later, we walked arm in arm. Sometimes we teased each other as we strolled along the streets. We would play little games with our fingers, and the loser would carry the winner on their back. Passersby would smile at us—perhaps amused, perhaps envious. But none of that mattered to us.
We never just walked. If we saw a tree, we'd circle around it, chasing one another. We balanced along the edges of sidewalks, he often holding my hand to steady me. When we found a bench, we'd sit and recount the events of our day. Tall buildings or statues became excuses for photos. With earphones shared between us, we sang along to songs, laughing like carefree children. We invented silly games, always trying to outdo each other.
Of course, I would sometimes get upset over the smallest things. If he asked me to keep carrying him just a little longer, I'd pout and say, "Fine, then I won't do it anymore." If he didn't help me down from the curb or hold my hand at the right moment, I'd sulk over that too. We even made pretend cameras with our fingers, framing each other and saying, "Action! You're being filmed—walk nicely!" as if we were models on a runway.
The truth was, I wasn't very good at handling jokes—I would get upset easily, stubbornly holding onto my mood until he coaxed me back. And every time, Bayarkhuu would gently comfort me, apologizing until I smiled again.
Alongside love, I didn't neglect my studies. I prepared for my final exams and passed them well, graduating successfully. At my graduation ceremony, he came holding a huge teddy bear and a bouquet overflowing with flowers.
"Congratulations on graduating," he said softly, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead.
My classmates cheered and clapped.
"Our Gerlee is so lucky," they said. "To have such a sweet, caring boyfriend."
That day, I felt so deeply the happiness of being loved. As I received my diploma, tears slipped down my cheeks—tears of joy, I believed, made even more precious because he was right there beside me.
After graduation, during the summer break, all I wanted was to spend every moment with him. But for him, summer marked the busiest season at the construction site. He barely had time to come see me. When his warm morning and evening messages stopped, I missed him terribly and grew upset.
"You don't even message me anymore. Do you not love me?" I would complain.
At first, I couldn't understand how busy he was. But eventually, I learned to accept it. Sometimes, I went to see him at his workplace. I would plead until he agreed to take a single day off in the week, and only then could we meet.
One day, I went to his place. He lived alone, and the apartment was a little messy. I gathered his clothes and put them into the washing machine, cleaned the house, and cooked for him. On his one day off, he lay down to rest his tired back.
"Leave it, love. I'll do it myself," he would say whenever he saw me working.
He took out a bottle of red wine from the cabinet. We set the table together, lit candles, and poured the wine into glasses.
"Thank you for being by my side," he said. "I love you."
We drank, growing pleasantly tipsy. He asked me to sit on his lap, wrapping his arms around me.
"Do you love me?" he asked.
"Of course I do."
"Then say it."
"I love you very much."
He kissed my lips, and we melted into each other. Warmth spread through me, rising from somewhere deep inside, as if I were burning. His kisses grew more intense, as though he wanted to lose himself in me. Then he kissed my neck softly, moving lower, and every touch sent waves through my body.
In his arms, I felt a tenderness and closeness I had never known before. That night became one I would never forget.
The next morning, we felt shy seeing each other so bare, yet we stayed wrapped together beneath the warm blanket, holding one another as if time itself had paused.
At first, he had been the one chasing after me. But little by little, it became me who chased after him—longing to see him, missing him when he didn't come. At the sound of a car, I would rush outside, hoping it was him. I checked my phone again and again.
Women are strange, aren't they? When someone constantly surrounds you with love—sweet messages, gifts, attention—you don't fully realize its value. But when they become busy and can't come as often, that's when you begin to miss them… to grow used to them… and before you know it, you've fallen deeply in love.