I’m not ashamed to say that I’m an emotional person.

But it requires the right circumstances. A nostalgic song can bring a tear to my eye, and I often shed tears during the credits of a beautifully-made film. I cry just as readily out of joy as I do from sorrow. Some sentimental souls can relate.

Reading a poignant book fulfills that emotional need. There’s something truly unique about that cathartic moment when you finally reach the acknowledgments. After all, reading is a journey that demands time and focus. You become intertwined with the world that unfolds solely from the text. The characters become part of your being. Completing a well-crafted novel can leave you feeling utterly spent – did you really make it through? Just how moved are you?

Typically, I find myself shedding tears towards the story’s conclusion as characters seek closure. However, when I picked up “This is a Love Story” by Jessica Soffer, I found myself in tears by just the fourth page.

Published by Dutton Books under Penguin Random House, “This is a Love Story” (★★★★ out of four) explores themes of love, family, and grief, all set against the backdrop of Central Park. In this narrative, the park transcends its role as a physical location, becoming a character in its own right, as any New Yorker would attest. Whether you’re a long-time resident or a newcomer, there’s a special spot in your heart for it.

“It can be observed: there is no greater thrill than reaching the peak of Cat Hill on a bike. There’s no simpler joy than holding hands while watching the ducks flap their wings,” Soffer writes in the book’s opening. “Even amidst the tragedies of war, mass shootings, the Me Too movement, hostage situations, hateful graffiti, and youth cyberbullying – events that challenge our faith in love – the brown-belted bumbles flourish, pollinating plants like beardtongue and American wild columbine. For some, the Park’s branches stretch out like arms, combating hate. Viewing them this way might be essential for those who cherish the Park.”

Next, we are introduced to Jane and Abe, whose love story unfolds over decades along the park’s pathways. An artist and a writer, their paths cross at Tavern on the Green, one of the park’s most renowned dining spots. In the present, Jane lies on her deathbed as Abe recounts their love story. They reminisce together.

Abe’s love for Jane is profound but not extraordinary – at least, not at first glance. It’s a familiar tale of boy meets girl, devoid of the trope of star-crossed lovers. But that’s irrelevant. In fact, it’s the smallest and most genuine moments that deepen your connection to their relationship. (“Being with you feels like hitching my wagon to your horse. I want to join you in raspberry picking, pondering fish, sunlight, and shadows on driftwood,” Abe expresses.)

Of course, their journey isn’t straightforward – as rarely anything is. They experience distance and closeness, sometimes pulling together or apart as they pursue their careers, lose loved ones, deal with a miscarriage, raise a child, and navigate infidelity. Jane and Abe’s relationship is intricate and multi-layered. Soffer skillfully anchors us in the park while they traverse this path – a lamppost guides a lost boy home, an invisible bond surprises at Strawberry Fields, and an important dialogue occurs on a familiar route.

Yet, what’s even more moving than Jane and Abe’s narrative are the brief glimpses of city life woven throughout. Soffer skillfully intertwines these bursts of magic – encounters with strangers we might never meet again yet feel profoundly connected to. The gardeners, yogis, a heart surgeon, and a housepainter. You don’t personally know them, yet you recognize them, as life in New York City often feels. Tiny moments as we move through the corridors between Broadway and Central Park. Though distinct and diverse, we all share the same air.

“Among the tulips, fritillaries, and anemones, students from Bronx Science exchange promises across the Whisper Bench – I want to exist in the same quantum state as you. An optometrist, who has been married five times, discovers love once more at the Rumi Festival in Shakespeare Garden, feeling as if he has 20/10 vision.”

I recall a quote on a bench I once saw in Central Park, a dedication to Barbara and Stan, wherever they may be: “How perfect is this, how fortunate are we?”

In New York City, and perhaps anywhere, there are instances amidst the chaos when you pause, look up at the sky, and feel thankful just to be for another day. Reading “This is a Love Story” evokes a similar sensation. Love stories may not be flawless, but how fortunate are we to experience them?

Clare Mulroy is the Books Reporter for YSL News. She covers exciting new releases, interviews with authors, and explores the culture of reading.