It was a beautiful day in Charleston, SC. The sun-drenched sky was gleaming across a cloudless blue canvass; a perfect day on vacation for our traditional trip downtown.
We embraced the sultry heat of August to take on the bustling market. Five blocks of endless tables each with a different vendor selling something more colorful and intriguing than the next. After purchasing my treasures, we headed to our next stop–Wet Willies–for a fruity frozen beverage and a blast of refreshingly icy air conditioning.
Our day continued as we walked down the cobblestone street, passing pastel historical homes along Rainbow Row. I stopped to admire the glistening water lapping the shoreline along the Battery, only to find my boyfriend trying to get my attention with a light tug of my arm.
There he was, down on one knee, squinting into the bright sun. I couldn’t speak; I was so surprised, nervous and excited all at once; my stomach turned from the feel of 100 butterflies fluttering. I pulled him from the ground and ignored the sweat we were both drenched in, hugging and kissing, tasting the salt from our skin. This was the most exhilarating moment of my life. So much anticipation leading up to that very moment, and it was perfect.
The princess-cut diamond surrounded by 36 dazzling diamonds now displayed on my left hand sparkled in the summer sun. I stared at it in disbelief as we walked to our next destination, which was unknown to me. I was so distracted and preoccupied with my newfound bling, I hadn’t realized that I was standing in the luxurious lobby of the Market Pavilion Hotel.
Our room was rich and lavish–by far the fanciest hotel I had ever set foot in. We found mouth-watering strawberries dressed in chocolate tuxedos accompanied by bubbling champagne, bottles we immediately popped to celebrate.
 That night, as I enjoyed the steeple filled skyline view from our balcony, sipping velvety merlot, I saw my fiancé across from me; I had never felt so adored, so loved. This was the most romantic, blissful day I’d ever had.
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