There is a bridge in Cologne that is covered in locks. There was one in Paris, but the bridge became too heavy to hold them all, so they were cut and removed. But the one in Cologne still holds all of its locks, even from years ago.
It is something tourists do. They even sell a key and lock set in souvenir shops. Some locals do it to be gushy about how in love they are.
When Eve interned in Cologne, she saw a lot of her colleagues do it. She didn’t really understand the hype about it.
And then there was one day when she was particularly homesick she ventured around Cologne, she wandered into a souvenir shop on accident. Next thing she knew, she had bought a lock and key set and headed to the bridge.
Dozens of couples were carving their initials onto the locks and then throwing away the keys, signifying their love would last forever.
The wind whipped at Eve’s hair, that hazy October afternoon, as she opened up the set and started carving into the lock with a coin.
She locked the lock onto the bridge and threw the key into the river. She sent a picture of the lock to Crowley and captioned it, “Did something impulsive. Miss you!”
Crowley sent a text back that read, “We miss you too! We’ll see you soon!”
Eve smiled and out her phone and her pocket and walked away. The purple lock remained: C+A & E.