We were on the beach in Cabo San Lucas, the first night we were there, I think. We were having dinner at the resort's outdoor restaurant, listening to a jazz quartet when Mister told me he had to "go to the bathroom." A very unromantic ten minutes later -- I was sure he was sick with some sort of gastrointestinal virus -- he came back with a ring, a nervous stomach, and a question to ask. He waited until we took a walk along the beach, and on the sand and under the moonlight, he asked me to marry him. Life changed that night.
No comments:
Post a Comment