Yes, that’s right – I’m engaged. I am still legitimately in shock as to the chain of events that took place on Friday, and I’ll use this as my forum to tell “the engagement story.”
I had a rotten day on Friday. I had to deal with a dress mishap with Rent the Runway, a $100 mischarge from AT&T, and frustration from the Lexus service center. Sasha called me at 4 pm to let me know he had firmed up dinner plans with his friends, and also mentioned that his realtor friend, Richard, had a house in Memorial that had just gone on the market and wanted us to see it. I was not exactly thrilled about going to the house, because my heart had been set on “The Manor,” which is a house we had looked at about five months ago. It was never on the market, but Sasha had built a pool for the neighbor, and she called him one day to tell him that the owner had moved to an assisted living house and the son would be selling it shortly. Sasha and I wandered around the house on numerous occasions, talking about all of the things we would do to fix it up. Kit, the owner’s son, was terrible about replying to Sasha’s calls and emails, and after three months of poor contact, he “gave up” (or so I was told). I agreed to go with him and Richard to look at the new house, although I wasn’t too pleased. On the drive to his house, I even called again to ask if it was “entirely necessary” to go to the house, or if I could go to Lexus to trade my loaner car for my car. He insisted. I didn’t think anything of it.
I scooped up Sasha, and we headed towards the house Richard was going to be showing us. He called on the way and said he was running late, so we started to drive around the neighbor, looking at houses (a routine of ours). As we passed by Penn Manor Court, he gasped, “Is there a For Sale sign in the yard??” We immediately did a u-turn and went to the house. I was in shock – how dare Kit ignore us and list the house with an agent! Sasha pulls into the driveway, and proclaims that he is going to see if the back door is unlocked. Being the law abiding citizen that I am, I stayed put. He came back around – “Ailee, it’s open. Let’s snoop.” “No, thank you,” I replied. He ushered me into the back yard, but I wasn’t budging. After he was gone for 2 minutes, I sighed and decided I had the most stubborn boyfriend in the world. I headed into the yard, well aware that I was about to go to jail for breaking and entering. In the house, I saw the light on in the kitchen. I walk in and see a “Welcome home Ailee” sign, and I stopped dead in my tracks. I was so thrown off.
Sasha proclaimed, “I bought you The Manor. It’s ours. I closed on it Wednesday!” I was seriously speechless. I started to jump up and down like a child, then noticed the champagne and glasses in an ice bucket on the counter, along with three vases of flowers. “Let’s have champagne to celebrate!” he says, “Grab your glass!” I pull the glass with a pink key in it out of the ice, and there is a string attached. As I pull it more, a gorgeous diamond ring appears from the ice. And then I start to tremble. I’m speechless again, but this time, I’m about to cry with excitement. He drops down on one knee, and says… well, actually, I don’t remember at all. The rest is a huge blur, but thankfully he has it on tape (because my parents are out of town – we want to show them).
Naturally, I take a picture (posted to Instagram immediately), and am about to text everyone to tell them the news. “Let’s wait until after dinner,” Sasha said. “You know everyone is going to want to call you.” I promise him I’ll include the caveat: “Don’t call, I’ll talk later” and shoot off the text. We’re en route to Haven, which is one of my favorite restaurants, for a romantic dinner. I insist that I have to call my parents, and of course, he obliges. I wake them up at 2:30am and they’re so excited. Sasha had gone to talk to them 2 weeks earlier, so they already knew it was coming. I then call my best friend, McKenzie, and she doesn’t pick up. So I call again. And once more. At this point, we’re pulling up to the restaurant, and we valet. “Sasha, table for two.” We are whisked around the corner, and all of a sudden, I am bombarded by flashing lights (true paparazzi style). A group of our closest friends is there waiting for us, and for the third time in the night, I’m speechless.
It was perfect. I’m on cloud 9. I’ve already emailed Atheneum Creative and Taylor Lord. I’ve booked a trip to San Francisco for planning purposes (nothing is confirmed yet!). The ball is rolling, and I’m excited.
I cannot wait to become Mr. and Mrs. Sasha Petrovic.
