Some love stories are written in lightning, quick and brilliant, while others simmer like an old pot of stew, quietly waiting for the right moment to be served. Kimberley and Ron’s story belongs to the second kind, the sort of tale where time and patience, and maybe even a little stubbornness, become the main characters. They first crossed paths in the hallways of high school. She was just in eighth grade, and he was an eleventh grader.
Sparks lit between them before they even knew what to do with it. They officially dated when she was a freshman and he was finishing his senior year. It was sweet, a little clumsy, precisely the kind of teenage romance that fills diary pages. But when graduation came, Ron made the practical choice; he didn’t want to be a college guy dating someone still in high school. Kimberley’s heart cracked, but in hindsight, she sees it clearly. They were meant to part for a while.
Life carried them forward. Kimberley married first and had two children, Kayla and Konner. Ron married later, though he didn’t have children of his own. Through all those years, through diapers and jobs and changing addresses, they never stopped being friends. They’d check in, sometimes just a quick update, sometimes a longer chat about how life was going. Their spouses knew about these conversations because this friendship wasn’t secretive but simply steady.
Eventually, both marriages ended, his first, then hers years later. The timing seemed almost comical—when one was newly single, the other was attached. When both were single, something always seemed off. They dated briefly after her divorce, but it fizzled. The friendship, though, stayed put like a lighthouse on the shore. During one of those talks, both were in their 30s and tired of the dating game, so the famous pact was made. Ron joked about not having anyone to leave his pension to, and Kimberley, half-teasing, half serious, said, “Well, if we’re still single by 50, let’s just marry each other.” They laughed it off. But sometimes laughter plants seeds.
Fast forward. Years rolled by, and their paths kept crossing in the way only life could. In 2016, Ron called to say his relationship had ended. Months later, Kimberley found herself in the same boat. They decided to meet up for margaritas, and both were raw and bruised but still able to laugh together. That night stretched into hours, as if no time had passed. Drinks turned into dinners, dinners into dates, and by September, they were officially giving “us” another try.
Ron hesitated initially, scared to risk their friendship if love didn’t work out. “If we fail again, I’ll lose my best friend,” he admitted. But Kimberley wasn’t scared anymore. They were older, wiser, less interested in changing each other, more ready just to accept and love. It was different this time. Stronger.
The engagement came on a bone-chilling day in Minnesota, at Gooseberry Falls, where the waterfalls were frozen in glittering stillness. Kimberley was freezing and ready to return to the car, but Ron stalled, pretending to tie his boot. When she turned around, he was on one knee in the snow, ring in hand, ready to keep the promise they’d once laughed about.
They married on June 1, 2018, surrounded by family, laughter, and decades of history. A story that began with teenage crushes, wandered through heartbreak, marriages, divorces, children, distance, and friendship, finally landed right where it was supposed to. Their journey isn’t about perfect timing or fate swooping in with a grand gesture. It’s about two people who kept showing up in each other’s lives, who made a silly pact once upon a time, and who discovered that sometimes, love really does wait for you.
