I knew the fiance was going to propose

I knew the fiancé was going to propose. I knew this because since our first date, we’d talked about getting married. Casually – like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Ooooh, and we could have tables named after superheroes – or themed like ‘Gotham’ and ‘Metropolis’!”

“Yes! Amazing! And we’d get married in a castle – obviously. With huge candelabras and big windows.”

“Love that idea! I’m sorry – what did you say your name was again?”

We fell in love quickly. He told me he loved me after our very first kiss, and I felt the same way. Although it took me by surprise. Everything about those first few months was like walking on a cloud. It felt dreamy, surreal – in our own little bubble. So much so, that I never actually got around to telling anyone we were dating.

He first met my mum when we rocked up at her house, ring on the finger.

Awkward.

And so, because of all this build-up, I knew the exact date he would propose. Oh and also, I found the ring in his glove compartment a few weeks beforehand, and pretended not to notice.

Dum-de-dum… *look the other way*

“I need you to keep the 27^th September free.”

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because, I’ve got a surprise for you.” (giggles and looks a bit pink in the cheeks) “It’s REALLY good.”

Not so good at subtlety, my other half.

“Oh ok. I can keep it free.”

“And I’m sending you to get your nails done.”

“Right. Why’s that then?”

“Cause I think they’ll look nice.” He may as well have finished that sentence with – “when you have a ring on your finger”.

But I played the dumb blonde. “That’s nice baby, thanks.”

And so the long weeks passed – him bursting to tell me his secret and me dying from all the pretence.

The day of The Proposal arrived, and I was met with a little note – instructing me to arrive for my nail appointment at 10am, and to take a coat with me.

“Am I not coming home?” I asked. This was unexpected.

“No. You’ll be told where to head to next.”

And so he sent me on a treasure hunt. I had my nails done – and all the girls at the salon were ever so nice to me. Suspiciously so. They complimented me on what I was wearing, my hair, my skin – everything. It wasn’t normal. They were obviously in on it.

So I rolled with the punches.

“What are you doing with the rest of your day?” the girl filing my nails asks me – little twinkle in her eye.

“Nothing really.” Just, you know, getting engaged. “I’ll probably just go home, clean up.”

“Nothing planning for tonight then?”

“Well, I think my BF is taking me out. Nothing special.” All this pretence!

“I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time…” Giggle, giggle.

Bloody hell!

"Was he going to be up there, in one of the treatment rooms? Naked but for a bow tie, and down on bended knee?" 

- Bridal Box Studios 

 

So after I’d had my nails done, I rocked up to the counter to pay – knowing full well he’d already sorted it. But again, with the game-playing.

“Oh, your partner has already paid for this for you.”

“Has he really? Wow, that’s mighty nice of him.”

“And we have a few other things planned for you. Would you like to come upstairs?”

Holy shit! This part of the day I wasn’t expecting. Was he going to be up there, in one of the treatment rooms? Naked but for a bow tie, and down on bended knee? 

I started to go into a flutter. I wasn’t ready – I needed more time.

Panic over. The treatment room was empty.

“We’re going to start with a back massage, and then we have a facial lined up for you.”

“Wow.” A genuine surprise. “That sounds lovely.”

Whale music cranked to the max, I proceeded to get oiled up and rubbed down.

Bliss.

Once I’d dressed myself and walked back downstairs – “you look absolutely glowing, so radiant!” – I was handed an envelope with my name on it. The girls were congregating around me, all smiles. It felt like a scene from The Shining.

“I hope you’ve had a wonderful morning. Your partner asked us to give you this note. You are so, so lucky. Enjoy the rest of your day. I hope it’s perfect for you.”

Um. Ok… thanks.

So I trotted out of the salon, climbed back into my car and opened the note.

“I hope you’re feeling relaxed and pampered…” 

I grinned, my hands trembling a little bit. The note told me I had a hair appointment with my regular hairdresser. How had he even got in touch with her? No one even knew he existed yet.

I rocked up at her house, all sheepish and a bit shy. Like – yes I have a boyfriend. Soz for keeping that one a secret.

“Hello missus! Something you want to tell me…?”

And so my hair was cut, coloured and blow-dried, while I explained how we’d met and how well things were going.

“We’ve just been hiding away. You know how it is.”

“Well it’s good to see romance isn’t dead. Anyway –"  she thrust an envelope into my hands “ – you’ve got another note.”

OMG – I actually hadn’t been expecting all these little notes!

“You’ll find your next clue where you normally disappear to after 9pm, my sleeping beauty.”

Cheeky bastard – not my fault I’m always shattered.

“Right – best go and see what madness he’s done to my bed!”

I texted my mum en route.

“Listen mum, I’ve been seeing someone and I’m having the most irregular day. Pampered to within an inch of my life.”

She sent a reply back – “Ooooh lovely, let me know if I need to buy a hat. LOL!”

Ermm…

So I rocked up at home, and ran upstairs – two steps at a time. There was a note on the bed, a dress (new) hanging on the outside of my closet, and a *GULP* jewellery box on the dresser.

Shit! Was he just going to let me open it now? He’s not even here!

I opened the box. A necklace. Silver, dainty little thing with a diamond pendant.

“I was going to give you this package later, but seeing as you found it in my glove compartment, you may as well have it now.”

Hmmm… a red herring?

The note continued. “Prosecco in the fridge.”

Excellent.

“Pick you up at seven.”

I had two hours. So I ran a bath, poured a glass of bubbly and relaxed.

Wow. I was getting engaged. I started to get butterflies, giddy little flourishes through my body. And I smiled – a lot.

By the time he came to pick me up, I was halfway through the bottle and feeling giggly. He was wearing a dark polo shirt and jeans, hair all swept to the side. I gave him a kiss.

“You look handsome.”

“You look beautiful. Have you had a nice day?”

“Amazing day. Thank you for all my surprises. What have I done to deserve them?”

He shrugged, then clocked my outfit. “What happened to the dress I bought you?”

“Oh.” I pulled a face. “Sorry – I didn’t really like it.”

We had dinner in Manchester. We drank cocktails and talked over candlelight. Every time he moved I thought – “Is this it? Is this the moment?”

But it never was.

We arrived home, late, and I took off my make-up and put on my pyjamas. Maybe I’d got it wrong. Maybe he wasn’t going to ask. Still – I’d had a lovely day.

We settled down in front of the TV, put a film on.

“Just nipping the loo.” He disappeared, and I waited.

After a few minutes, he shouted my name. Bloody hell – did he need loo roll or something?

“Come up.”

I huffed, banged up the stairs after him, and pushed open the bedroom door.

There were candles everywhere, and rose petals on the bed. Everything was bathed in a warm glow, and there was a brown envelope on the pillow.

“You have one more surprise.”

I sat down, and he handed it to me. The parcel was tied up with string, and I pulled it open and started to unwrap the folds. Out dropped a piece of paper – it was the page of a book, torn from my favourite novel, Wuthering Heights. I picked it up, turned it over in my hands. One side was etched in golden calligraphy. I can’t even tell you how I felt in that moment, as I read the words.

Will you marry me?

When I looked up from the page, he was down on one knee. The box was open in his hands, glittering engagement ring nestled inside.

“I can’t imagine my life without you in it. Will you be my wife?”

I went all weird and shy, hand over my mouth. According to Hollywood, I should be leaping in the air, crying – shouting out ‘Yes’. Instead I just kind of giggled. “Um, ok.”

“Ok?”

I wiped my face, fluffed my hair up a bit. “No, I wasn’t ready. I’m ready now. Ask me again.”

I held out my left hand, expectantly, big wacky grin on my face. “Go on.”

He sighed, rolled his eyes. And asked me again.