I’m 30 years old. Not quite labeled “on the shelf,” but clearly, in the eyes of my elders, I was in the “red alert” zone. My mother, at first, gently reminded me, then gradually pressured me, and finally… started giving me phone numbers of “stable prospects” to meet. I didn’t expect much. But to put my mother at ease, I agreed to go on these arranged meetings, treating it as an open mind exercise for myself.

The first time, I arrived at a local cafe and waited. A man walked in – white shirt, bright face, tall, with a respectable voice. He was quite pleasant to talk to, had good taste, and seemed to have some depth. We greeted each other politely; there was no “spark,” but nothing to complain about either. I thought, well, that’s one done, not too bad.

Two weeks later, my mother said, “An acquaintance introduced a new match, this time it’s Auntie Sharma from your paternal side, he’s very good.” Okay, I went, just to be a “dutiful daughter” to my mother. And I was shocked. It was the same man as last time. We looked at each other, both smiling awkwardly: – “You again?” – “You again?” I thought it was just a coincidence, though a bit strange, but I believed that sometimes connections from acquaintances could “overlap.”

The third time, it was at my best friend’s suggestion. She said her cousin, an architect, was very decent and seriously looking to settle down. I smiled wryly, unable to refuse. When I arrived… it was him again.

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This time, he looked at me, tilted his head, and smiled: “Do you believe in destiny yet?” I genuinely started to find it weird. Could it be that all three times I “accidentally” met the same person? To the point that my best friend, who swore it was a “new match,” also aimed for the same guy? Is the world really that small? I decided to investigate quietly.

The fourth time, my mother showed me a photo of a new man, saying he was “the perfect match, a doctor, my mother’s best friend’s nephew.” I looked at the picture and almost burst out laughing because it was still him, just wearing a different shirt. I didn’t go. I went back to my hometown unexpectedly, without warning. Just as I suspected, as soon as I entered the house, I saw him sitting and having tea with my parents. My mother jumped, and he stood up, a little embarrassed.

I asked directly, “Is this the doctor, your friend’s nephew?” My mother looked at me, silent, then finally sighed: “I’m sorry, I arranged it. From the first time you met, I saw that you two were a good match. His aunt and I talked it over, and we introduced you through many channels so you would keep meeting. I thought if I just told you directly, you’d object.” I was stunned. It turned out I wasn’t going on arranged dates but was part of a “love script” orchestrated by the adults.

I looked at him – the man who had been “experimented” with me through four meetings. He just smiled: “I knew from the second time. But I didn’t say anything… because I also wanted to see how you would react. At least, I’m very happy that you agreed to come every time.” I didn’t know whether to be angry, annoyed, or just burst out laughing. That evening, I opened my phone. A message from him: “Not fate, not destiny, it was arranged by the elders, but can we create our own destiny?” He sent me a ridiculous profile like a job application CV, which made me choke with laughter. “If you can, choose me one more time, please.

I’d like a two-week trial period and hope to sign a long-term contract,” he messaged. I didn’t reply immediately, but in my heart, I suddenly felt… not entirely uncomfortable. Perhaps, not all arrangements are bad. Some sweet endings begin with a clever “herding” by the elders, and sometimes, you don’t need romance at all, you just need to give yourself a chance, who knows, it might be true destiny.