When I last left off on our proposal saga, I had found what I thought was the perfect ring online, I showed said ring to Mr. A, and he revealed he’d already purchased my ring. I was left feeling both elated that this proposal thing was, indeed, happening, and also somewhat disappointed in myself that I hadn’t shown my guy the ring a little sooner.
Anyway, fast forward a couple of weeks to what I considered for all intents and purposes to be a typical Wednesday. It was Mr. A’s turn for dinner duty and he casually suggested that we go out to dinner at one of our favorite restaurants, Cotton Patch, instead of cooking at home (be aware that Cotton Patch was the restaurant we went to on our first date; however, we had been there tons of times since then, so the suggestion didn’t seem suspicious in the slightest.) After work, Mr. A picked me up and we went on our way.
In the car on the way there, the conversation seemed more full of “marriage talk” and “proposal talk” than usual. Mr. A was explaining how he’d asked some of his co-workers how they had proposed or were proposed to and wanted my opinion about them. I am personally not a fan of big, elaborate, public proposals (Jumbotron sporting event proposal? No thanks.) By the time we made it to the restaurant, therefore, I was slightly suspicious that a possible proposal was on the horizon.
I can’t remember what I had for dinner or what the conversation consisted of. I just remember watching Mr. A talk, his face all lit up with mischievous excitement and a sense of forthcoming knowledge of what was about to happen behind those beautiful hazel eyes of his. (Y’all Mr. A was seriously ADORABLE.) At the end of the dinner, I started to wonder if he was going to do it right then and there. I knew he was aware of my aversion to public proposals, but this WAS the place where we had our first date (which, admittedly, took some forethought and planning.) So, at the end of the dinner, I looked at him expectantly, smiled, and…
You guys, it didn’t happen at the restaurant.
In all honesty, I was a little relieved when we stood up from our booth at the restaurant and made our way back to his car. If it was going to happen that night, it would be in his apartment–I knew it. My suspicions were all but confirmed, when, after we had climbed into the car, Mr. A warned me that he had lit some candles in his apartment before he left because it “smelled funny in there.” (I had to do a mental face palm here, y’all–boys are so goofy! Why, if you lit candles in your apartment to surprise your girlfriend with a romantic atmosphere, would you TELL her? Just let it be a surprise! ) Anyway, I played dumb and simply smiled and nodded as we made our way back to his place for dessert.
Of course, when we walked into his apartment, the whole living room was lit by the soft, romantic glow of candles. He had a blanket laid out on the floor with a few pillows, and soft music was humming in the background. I took a seat on the floor while Mr. A told me to stay in the living room while he went into the kitchen to get our dessert. He warned me to not go into the kitchen because he was going to make mine “look pretty” for me. Whatever that meant.
My mind was racing a thousand miles a second as Mr. A disappeared into the kitchen and reemerged a few minutes later with two slices of Boston cream pie. (For the record, I thought his dessert choice was hilariously random–in the two and a half years we had been together, not once had we had Boston cream pie together. It looked delicious, though!) He’d thrown a dollop of whipped cream on top of each slice, except something on top of one of the slices was catching the glow of the candles. Being the eloquent person I am, I said the first thing that came to mind:
The mister smiled and handed me my slice, saying, “See? I made it pretty for you.”
As the mister handed me my slice of dessert, my eyes fell upon the engagement ring. But it wasn’t just ANY ring–it was the online one from Jared* I had fallen in love with and had shown the mister not two weeks before! I couldn’t believe it!
I plucked the ring from the top of the whipped cream and looked up at the mister as he smoothly bent down on one knee and asked me to marry him. Simply. Sweetly. Perfectly.
This wonderful man was going to be my husband.
Overwhelmed with the surge of emotions I was feeling, I leaned in to kiss him. When he pulled away with an odd, inquisitive look on his face, it was at that moment that I realized I’d never actually answered his “Will you marry me?” question! With a nervous laugh, I declared an emphatic “yes!” before the mister slipped the ring on my finger.
I sat there for a moment, mesmerized by my ring, as the mister quickly grabbed his phone and sent a text message. When I asked him what he was doing, he told me he was texting everyone he knew that he was engaged. “Like who?” I asked. “Oh, you know. Some of my friends, my grandparents, your parents…”
Y’all, I didn’t even get the chance to call my parents to tell them the good news before he did! (For the record, it turned out he’d told them already that the proposal was going down that night, so they were kind of already expecting it. However, that didn’t exactly make up for the fact that I wasn’t able to call them and tell them the good news myself! Boo on him.) Anyway, I tempered my momentary frustration in light of the awesomely amazing thing that had just happened as I reached for my phone and called to tell my family the fantastic news.
Were there any unusual or unexpected quirks about your proposal that made it special? Any of you prefer private proposals to public ones?
*It turns out the mister had ordered my dream ring from Jared over two weeks before I had even shown it to him online. Proof that he has impeccable taste!