The Day Riazul Ruined Everything (And Somehow Made Me Love Him Even More)

If you ever think dating a guy like Riazul will be sweet and simple, let me save you the heartbreak: it won’t.
It’ll be messy, chaotic, ridiculous — and somehow, so stupidly perfect you’ll wonder how you lived without it.

I should have known when he texted me that morning:
"Dress pretty, princess. Today’s gonna be legendary."
Spoiler: It was. Just not in the way I expected.

I spent an hour picking the perfect outfit, straightening every stubborn strand of hair, putting on just the right amount of lipstick.
Dreaming of candlelit dinners... maybe soft music... maybe even a little slow dancing.

Then I opened the door —
And there he was.
Standing proudly with a wobbly, half-dead bicycle and a cape made out of his mom’s floral bedsheet, flapping dramatically in the breeze.

I stared.
He grinned.

"Your chariot awaits, madam," he said, bowing so low I thought he was going to faceplant.

Somewhere deep down, my common sense screamed, "RUN!"
But my heart — the traitor — just laughed and followed him.

---

We didn’t even make it down the block before the bike hit a pothole and flipped us straight into a bush.
Riazul popped up, twigs sticking out of his hair like antennae, grinning like he just won the Olympics.
"Perfect crash landing, babe. I planned it," he said proudly.

I wanted to be mad.
Instead, I laughed until my stomach hurt.

Next Mission: Ice Cream.

Riazul bought the biggest, most ridiculous triple-scoop cone I had ever seen — one that already leaned like the Tower of Pisa — and turned to me like some hero returning from battle.

I waited for him to hand me mine.
He didn’t.
He just smiled and said,
"Sharing is the secret to true love, right?"

Then smashed the entire ice cream into my face like it was a pie fight.

Cold vanilla dripped down my nose.
Sticky mango clung to my eyelashes.
The betrayal was personal.

I gasped.
He froze.
Then he collapsed into wild, gasping laughter that made even passing strangers laugh along.

Naturally, revenge was swift.
I grabbed another cone and smeared it right onto his hair — and thus began the Great Ice Cream War of the Park, complete with screaming children cheering for us like it was a gladiator match.

When we finally collapsed on the grass, breathless, sticky, and looking like two melted sundaes, I turned to him and said:
"You are honestly the worst human being I know."

He looked at me — all messy hair, ice cream in his ear, grin so wide it made my heart ache — and said softly:
"Yeah. But admit it, Barishu... you love this rotten mess."

And the truth is...
I did. I still do.
Every chaotic second, every stupid laugh, every unexpected, imperfect, unforgettable moment.

Because sometimes love isn’t about grand gestures and perfect sunsets.
Sometimes it’s about riding a half-broken bike, getting tackled by a bush, and realizing that somehow, in the middle of all the madness,
you found your favorite person in the whole world.