My boyfriend, Naveen, worked three jobs to save $250k for a small apartment on Toronto’s outskirts, dreaming of a balcony garden and space for his mom. Meanwhile, I secretly saved $210k through tutoring, Etsy crafts, and a food Instagram, matching his hustle quietly for four years. He’s selfless, supporting his family after his dad’s passing, but his health suffered. Then, he loaned $70k to his cousin, who spent it on a lavish party. Devastated, I didn’t reveal my savings. Instead, I found a three-bedroom townhouse we could afford together. I surprised
Naveen with the keys, revealing my secret savings. He was stunned, moved by my silent effort. We bought the house, and soon after, his family forced his cousin to repay the $70k. We used it to furnish our home and start my pop-up food stall, “Daal & Dough,” blending baked goods and Indian comfort food. Now, Naveen works one job he loves, and my business is gaining traction. We still enjoy our Tuesday biryani nights in our own kitchen. Love, for us, was quiet hustle—building the same dream from different corners, proving the quietest efforts can create the loudest futures.
