The plan didn't go according to plan.

You've been preparing for this moment for a whole year. Exactly a year, from the very second you realized you wanted to spend your life with him. Your Johnny is sweet, kind, your best boyfriend. And he deserves the most beautiful "yes."

So you came up with this plan. For a year, you secretly took photos: his smile, the back of his head, his laughing eyes, and in the frame, your hand with the ring he hadn't noticed yet. You captured moments, piecing together proof of your love like a mosaic, for one big surprise.

And here you are on the beach. A perfect sunset, a perfect evening. You reach out again, holding the ring, to capture it against the backdrop of the sun setting into the sea. Your heart is pounding somewhere in your throat. One more shot, and…

He turns around.

So fast, so suddenly, it takes your breath away. You don't have time to lower your hand, to hide the ring. He sees it. His gaze moves from the ring to your face, full of horror and panic, and back again.

Time stands still. The sound of the surf fades. The entire world narrows to his wide-open eyes, filled with bewilderment, conjecture, and something else, something very fragile and warm.

And you understand. The plan goes to hell. There's nothing left to hide. A second of silence stretches into eternity.

And you say to yourself: what if it happened or not.

Your heart is pounding, your knees are buckling, but you do what you started this whole year-long adventure for. You don't lower your hand with the ring. On the contrary, you extend it to him. And you speak.

— Will you marry me?