The climb was worth it.

Of course, even that was a slightly dramatic affair.

I’d been sending ring suggestions for months – all from a cute little Etsy shop based in America. I knew I wanted a rose gold band with a vintage flair, and this particular store had exactly that. So, unbeknownst to me (obviously), Ben chose a design and had it shipped from the States.

The only trouble was, it arrived a week or two after I’d dropped out of the PGDE course and was now lazing around the flat with no money and nowhere to go.

At first, I didn’t notice the packaging; I just tossed the parcel onto the armchair, alongside the mound of parcels that was quickly growing with every new knock on the door. But, rather than laughing off my message that he had a major online shopping addiction, Ben seemed nervous…paranoid even. 

He mentioned something about expecting a few deliveries that day and being worried about one in particular not arriving on time. So, obviously not thinking straight, he asked me to check which parcels had arrived.

That’s, of course, when I noticed it.

For weeks, he kept it hidden, and it didn’t take me long to figure out where – stuffed at the bottom of the ottoman that housed his ever-growing collection of football shirts and sports gear. 

It became a secret little ritual: every day, I’d sneak a peek at the box (never opening it, just looking), wondering when he was going to do it. How he was going to do it.

We were going to Wales to celebrate his grandparents’ wedding anniversary. And knowing how much Wales – where he was born and lived for several years – meant to him, the romantic in me knew this had to be the time and place he was going to do it.

But I was wrong, and completely losing my patience by this point – although, after seven years together, you’d think I could’ve held out a little longer. But no. We came back from Wales, and I was still very much ringless. What I didn’t know was that, a day or so later, on a visit to Stirling, he was finally going to pop the question.

We’d been to the university – revisiting my old campus, wandering around the loch, just soaking in the memories – and had arrived back in the city when he suggested we visit Stirling Castle.

I couldn’t be arsed.

It might have been my favourite spot in Stirling, but it was a mighty climb, and I didn’t see the point. But he insisted. And I gave in. So, grudgingly, I trudged up the hill – sweating, complaining, and absolutely not in the mood.

And… unsurprisingly, by the time we got to the top, I felt even worse – sticky, windswept, and like a right mardy bum. I had no idea why he’d dragged us all the way up there!

Of course, he had other plans.

So, as I stood there – ranting about the climb, how I looked like a complete mess, questioning why on earth we were up there – tears began to well in my eyes from sheer frustration.

But he wasn’t put off. In fact, completely undeterred by this world-class display of grumpiness, he pulled out that little ring box I’d been longing to see inside of and proposed. And just like that, those tears of irritation turned into tears of pure joy.

Looking back, it was a perfect moment.