“Maybe I should take some classes at your yoga studio. I’d see you more often.”

“I have spots open if you’re serious.”

Stevie smiles at me. “I was kidding. No offense, but yoga’s not my thing. But don’t let me keep you from your eager students. We can hang out some other time.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it. I’ll text you later,” I tell her and keep moving down the stairs to get to my car in a hurry.

“Get something to eat!” she calls after me, and I wave to acknowledge her, even though I wasn’t kidding when I told her I don’t have time.

My first yoga class is in thirty minutes, and it’s going to take me almost that long to get to my car and drive across town to the studio. I don’t even have time to stop at a fast-food place or a convenience store for something quick, so it’ll just have to wait until after.

For what feels like the first time in my life, traffic actually cooperates, and somehow I make it to the studio with about ten minutes to spare before class starts. Several of my students are already on their mats waiting for me, and I wave to them on my way to the locker room to change.

But when I step back out, there’s a delivery person hanging out by the front desk.

“Can I help you?” I ask, and he holds up a small white paper bag from a local restaurant.

“Are you Hannah Dunaway?”

“Yeah, why?”

“This is for you,” the guy says and hands the bag to me.

As I take it from him, my first thought is that Stevie must have sent it since she knew I wouldn’t have time to get food, but when I glance at the receipt taped to the outside of the bag, I spot a little note printed at the bottom of it.

You can’t burn calories you don’t eat. Hope this makes your day better!

– D.M.

My heart does a little flip as I read and then re-read the note. I laugh and shake my head as the delivery guy leaves the studio. Part of me can’t believe Declan really remembered what I said yesterday about forgetting to eat and thought ahead to send me a fresh Mediterranean grain bowl with grilled chicken from the health-focused café near campus. But another part of me isn’t surprised. He remembered my favorite drink, after all.

Still, the fact that he thought to order me food at all just because he wanted to make my day better sends warmth spreading through my chest. It’s such a small gesture, but it feels enormous.

When was the last time someone paid such close attention to my needs?