It was raining.
Paul left to take a walk, out of anger. I retreated into myself, and it took a moment before I could shake myself out of it, clean the kitchen, and start defrosting salmon.
He came back inside. I pulled him to the couch and grabbed a blanket. He laid his head on my chest, and I scratched him, relieved that I could physically feel some of the tension dissipate.
I told him I was making dinner, and he insisted we go out for dessert. The Coronavirus has LA county on lockdown; our options were limited. Were there any drive-thru businesses that even served dessert? Either way, we left.
He asked me to put on warm clothes and take an umbrella. I put a leather jacket over my green long sleeve and put on my boots. It was pouring as we hopped inside the car. We talked the whole drive to wherever we were going. I looked around, and we were in Redondo Beach. It was far from dessert.
He told me we should go for a walk since we’ve been stuck inside for days. No one else was around; it seemed safe enough. I opened the umbrella, and we started to walk. We made our way to the pier, talking about everything from politics to video games.
The rain, the smell of the ocean in the air, the empty pier, and the comfort of silence. It was like finding solace in what felt like an apocalypse. We stopped further down the pier, a few of the lights around us illuminated where we stood, and we could hear the ocean down below, covered in darkness.
Paul started talking.
“Sometimes we’ll have days like this… days when we’re mad, days when it’s raining, and we’ll have better days. Days when the sun is out again. And even when I’m at my angriest… I know I want to be with you.
I want to be with you through all the days, when we’re sick, when we’re happy.
So Jen, will you marry me…”
Somewhere in the middle of his speech, I realized what was happening. A part of me was still in disbelief, and it wasn’t until he got down on one knee that I knew. I dropped the umbrella, the wind nearly knocking into the ocean. I remember not being able to take my hand off my mouth because I was sobbing too much, and it was way too embarrassing.
Not only was I haggard from having to stay home the past week, but I had no makeup on. My sobbing was a complete and total ugly cry, and I figured if he still wants this, he must really like me.
So, I knelt down and shook my head yes. My hand was shaking, and we were both nervous that the ring would drop onto the pier, down into the cracks, and be forever lost.
It fit perfectly, and he confessed he measured my finger in my sleep. The last month he’d been working with a jeweler in Downtown LA to custom design my ring. Even now, I stare at it and can’t believe how he absolutely nailed my sense of style. It’s better than anything I would’ve chosen. I told him it looked like leaves, and he said that’s exactly what he was going for.
We talked before about how diamonds aren’t worth it. But he sat down with me and explained the different types, the clarity, what it all means. And once I saw it catch in the light, it changed everything.
He was planning a proposal with Tim. But he chose that night because it felt right. And it truly did. It felt like an even sappier version of a weird mashup between Twilight and The Notebook (I know). It was raining so hard, and we were drenched, crying and happy, and feeling so many emotions at once. I wouldn’t have wanted it to happen any other way.
We didn’t get any photos there of that moment. But I replay it in my head almost every other day.
We stopped by McDonald’s and grabbed a parfait and an apple pie to-go to celebrate. When we got home, we looked at each other and couldn’t believe it. We said the “f” word, and it made us laugh in disbelief. Fiancé and fiancée…
After taking some time to ourselves, we started calling friends and family. Some of them screamed in excitement… others cursed in excitement. I don’t remember the last time we’ve used the phone for that long.
That night, we stayed up until 5am.
American Love Letters 