The Night We Met

Let’s start with a confession: I don’t even like romance books.

Usually, the second characters start making heart-eyes at each other for no logical reason, I’m checked out.

But The Night We Met completely caught me off guard. Abby Jimenez managed to pull me into a contemporary romance and actually keep me there, which is a minor miracle in itself.

The story hinges on a single, split-second decision. Larissa chooses to take a ride home after a concert with boisterous personal trainer Mike instead of his quiet pharmacist friend, Chris. Fast forward, and Mike is her boyfriend, but Chris is the one quietly filling in the gaps, helping her shovel her car out of snowstorms, remembering her nut allergy, and co-parenting a slightly unhinged rescue Yorkie. It’s a messy, emotionally gray setup that could easily feel sleazy, but instead, it feels heartbreakingly human.

Here is exactly why this grabbed a 4-star rating from a romance skeptic:

• The God-Tier Banter: The connection between Larissa and Chris didn’t feel manufactured to serve a plot point. Their chemistry is entirely built on the small stuff (sharing books, arguing over whether pumpernickel is the ultimate bread, and handling life’s chaotic side-hustles). The dialogue is snappy, fun, and genuinely feels like two real people who just get each other.

• The Closed-Door Approach: I absolutely loved that this was a closed-door romance. Instead of relying on explicit scenes to prove the characters were into each other, Jimenez forced us to sit with the agonizing, slow-burn emotional intimacy. The tension is built entirely through stolen glances, quiet acts of kindness, and the excruciating weight of Chris’s loyalty to his best friend vs. his feelings for Larissa. It made the emotional payoff hit so much harder.

• Real, Heavy World-Building: This isn't a fluffy escape. The book dives deep into the realities of poverty, identity theft, grief, and the agonizing friction of loving someone struggling with alcoholism (Mike's downward spiral felt painfully authentic). It forces the reader into an uncomfortable space where you feel bad for almost everyone involved.

Why It Wasn't a 5-Star Read:

My only real grievance is the ending. I am notoriously not a fan of traditional, neatly packaged happy endings; I want a realistic one.

While I deeply respected how Larissa handled finding out the truth about Mike and setting her boundaries, the final act felt a bit too meticulously orchestrated to give us that classic romance resolution. Given how grounded, heavy, and gritty the middle of the book was with tackling genuine relationship friction and systemic struggle. I wished the conclusion had left a little more room for the messy, unpredictable reality of life.

If you usually steer clear of the romance aisle because you hate superficial chemistry and over-the-top fluff, give this one a shot. It’s a beautifully written, emotionally complex look at how a single choice can rewrite your life. It’s funny, it’s painful, and the pining will absolutely wreck you. But don't go in expecting a realistic ending. While it was headed in that direction it definitely ended very Hallmark-y.