I Married My Taxi Driver Just to Annoy My Ex – The Next Day, He Showed Me a Photo That Changed Everything

After a sad dinner at a bistro I used to love, I called a taxi. It wasn’t even an Uber. I wanted something impersonal, something that wouldn’t ask for five stars. The car that pulled up was an older black sedan, the kind with a faint smell of leather and coffee.

The driver was a gentleman. He got out to open the door for me, and that’s when I noticed that he was tall, had tousled dark hair, a scruffy five o’clock shadow that suited him, and warm brown eyes that almost made me forget the disaster I’d just come from.