Ivan and I met at grad school in Canada and had been dating just over a year when he came home to the UK with me for Christmas. On our first night in the UK, Ivan cornered my mum and, having researched British traditions on-line, asked her permission to marry me. My mum was too excited to keep it a secret as instructed so we had a quiet family celebration. I thought that we would find a ring later... however...
On the 14th of December, exactly one year and one month since we started dating, we were in Paris. We walked around the city all day and then went back to our host's apartment. I was hoping to go for a romantic meal, but Ivan informed me that he'd arranged to meet a guy we new from Toronto in a bar. This seemed like an odd thing to do in the most romantic city in the world and I was a bit deflated, but got changed and set off to meet Ivan's friend. On the way to the bar, as we were crossing Pont Neuf, Ivan stopped to admire the view: the Eiffel Tower was lit up to one side of us, and Notre Dame was in the distance to the other. Ivan then informed me that 'Pont Neuf' meant New Bridge - I disagreed, thinking it meant the 9th Bridge... Ivan let me win this argument despite knowing he was right. What can I say? He knows how to put me in a good mood! He then suggested we take a photo - I turned to find a good spot and when I turned back to smile for the camera, he was down on one knee with a beautiful ring that he had picked himself, of course I said yes! As we kissed and I put on the ring some passers by gave us a round of applause. Ivan then led me to a tiny hidden restaurant where he had made a reservation secretly. The 'friend in the bar' was just a ruse to get me out to the bridge. Ivan planned every detail, the restaurant, asking permission, and picking a ring that is a perfect fit, exactly my taste, and with a light blue stone - his favourite colour - so that it will always be the ring he picked for me, not just an engagement ring.
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