This is something that could probably develop into a Nicholas Sparks type romantic short story. But for now, unless I can come up with a decent robot/alien/vampire/mob boss twist, this is as romantic as I am going to get right now.
He knocked on the gazebo’s wooden frame, remembering how she insisted that he kiss her at this precise spot. He wanted to believe that she went into detail as to why, a great dramatic dialogue about her reasons. All he could tell himself for sure is that she wanted to create a memory for them. It worked for him – he did not forget that kiss.