Riftan's love for Maxi in 'Under the Oak Tree' is one of those slow burns that makes you clutch your heart and scream into a pillow. At first, he’s all gruff and distant, treating her like she’s made of glass—partly because of their arranged marriage and partly because of his own insecurities. But as the story unfolds, you see these tiny cracks in his armor. The way he notices things about her, like how she flinches at loud noises or how she tries to hide her fear. It’s not grand romantic gestures (though those come later); it’s the quiet moments where he steps between her and danger, or when he finally starts listening to her instead of assuming he knows best. By the time he’s willing to tear the world apart for her, you realize his love was there all along—just buried under layers of trauma and overprotectiveness.
The novel does this brilliant thing where Riftan’s actions speak louder than his words. He’s terrible at verbalizing feelings, but his devotion is in every decision he makes. Even when he messes up (and oh boy, does he), it’s always because he’s terrified of losing her. Their relationship isn’t perfect—it’s messy and frustrating and achingly human—but that’s what makes it feel real. The way he gradually learns to trust her strength? Chef’s kiss.