You could set your story in a historical setting in which the countess and the gardener are truly forbidden from passion, or a fantasy world where the ogopogos and sasquatches are sexy rivals.
The amount of pirates on the covers of romance novels is the direct result of this.
Or just have a lukewarm type of forbidden-ness, like “his family’s greeting-card store is in competition with my family’s greeting-card store” or “we’re coworkers.”
And the hallmark channel answer. I had a coworker who would watch those every single day. I vomit at the visuals (how do they get them so consistent and apparent? You can tell just from the opening shots and title!) of a hallmark to this day.
Keeping my reply of emphatic no here to not clutter up the thread. The closest I ever came was raising a fictional toast when Brian Jacques passed. I downloaded a copy of the recipe book he had written and made some of the otter’s hot soup.
I do find it interesting that no one in the thread who answered yes is really trying to explain why they cried. Sure, saying that you cared about their work means that you thought they were important, but how is that enough to cause you to cry? It seems like we’d have to drill down into the idea of parasocial relationships and examine how much these folks have built up the idea that the person they cried over was actually a part of their life.
spoilerI’ll acknowledge I’m probably the epitome of cold, uncaring bastard when it comes to death. My job involves handling society’s recently dead, as well as those who may be getting close. I didn’t cry when my family members died; I just don’t see the point in crying or even being sad. It doesn’t change anything. I’d rather go read a book, watch a movie, play a game, row my scull, ride the bike, or jump out of a plane with friends. Those are all fun, and seem a much better use of my time.