Nathan and I both went to college at UC Berkeley. He was friends with someone who was dating a friend of mine from Sacramento (and they are now married). I would frequently see him on campus wearing a tank top and short shorts, showing off his rowing muscles, or at frat parties wearing even less clothing, chugging a beer. As a straight-A student who rarely drank let alone left the library, never in a million years did I think I’d end up with this guy.

But one day, we were both walking under Sather Gate, chatting on our phones. He was going the other direction but we made eye contact for a brief moment. He smiled, and I will never forget seeing that gorgeous grin and thinking, “Damnit, he’s so cute.” I was taken at the time, but I couldn’t forget how I felt that day. Nathan has always had this welcoming warmth about him that just pulls you right in. I now know this is characteristic for Kiwis.

Nathan graduated a year before me and moved to the UK. Out of sight, out of mind. I moved back home to Sacramento and then to San Francisco when I got recruited by Visa, and kissed a lot of “frogs,” as my mom calls them. Dating in the city was challenging and frustrating. The pandemic certainly didn’t help matters. I lost interest in it all and began preparing to move to New York City in 2021.

That summer, I went to Cabo San Lucas with three girlfriends. Remember the friend I mentioned who was dating Nathan’s friend at Cal? Her name is Shea. Shea and her now husband, Tomas, were coincidentally in Mexico the same weekend, but on the opposite side in Cancun, and she posted a photo on Instagram of a big group of people on the beach and tagged Nathan Davenport, captioning it “Cheers to the newlyweds - Mr. and Mrs. Davenport!”

I jokingly thought, “Shit, he’s married!” Truthfully, I had not thought about my college crush since, well, college. But then after zooming in and realizing his brother, Lyall, was the one who’d just gotten hitched, I decided to go for it. I’d already taken several shots of tequila that day, so I took another and drunk DM’ed him (see pic above).

To my surprise, he responded, and we kept in touch for the next six months as he was on his way from London to Detroit to take a job within his automotive technology company based in the US (hence Motown). Toward the end of the year, as I was preparing to make my move to the Big Apple, he was spending time in Tahoe taking care of his grandfather, who was sick. I was home in Sacramento (a two hour drive away) for the holidays. We’d finally come back into each other’s orbits.

We tried to make plans to see each other, but the weather was not cooperating. My parents did not want me driving up the mountains to see a guy I barely knew, and I couldn’t blame them. So I figured it just wasn’t meant to be. But after he asked me what I was doing for New Year’s, he somewhat jokingly invited himself. I told him he was welcome to join our debauchery. But the entire night before, partying with my family and all our friends, I genuinely didn’t think he’d show up. I’d been burned by plenty of guys in the past. And on New Year’s Day?! There was just no way.

To all our surprise, he drove all the way down from Tahoe early that morning. Between the fuel shortage and icy roads, the journey wasn’t exactly smooth. But this man was on a mission. He ended up staying the weekend with us. Everyone, my parents included, loved him. I think all us ladies were especially enamored with his long hair and tattoos. Not to mention the one on his butt, which he proudly showed my mother (thank god my father had gone to bed at this point).

When he left, I didn’t know when, how, or where our paths might merge again, but I knew they would. They had to. I’d (re)met my college crush, and I had a feeling I would marry him one day.