Natalie and Thomas

I gave him a quicksqueeze as we ascended in the elevator and felt something. It was a box in hisinner jacket pocket, but it couldn't be a ring, the box - it didn't feel likethe right dimensions.

I tried to shake the idea as he held my hand and led me acrossthe Hoxton Hotel's rooftop in Chicago. I surveyed the empty swimming pool deck,noting the two mini champagne bottles on the bar top and the restaurant patronsfar in the background. I found myself standing in the exact spot we met twoyears ago when my sister pulled over a group of "hot guys" on a dare.

He was recreating that moment for just the two of us when he dropped down toone knee. I didn't cover my mouth and gasp or cry; I listened. He told me howhe's become a better man because of knowing me and how my strong sense offamily importance was so attractive. He told me about his dreams for the futureand that most of them centered around me. A slim silver box slid from insidehis jacket pocket and popped open, revealing the most perfect diamond ring,larger and more sparkly than I would ever have imagined. It was timeless andelegant.

It turns out that atrip to Razny Jewelers in Hinsdale, a few weeks prior, was truly to look atwedding ring bands and not to shop for men's watches as he initially claimed.The box was a "proposal box," which is why I didn't think it could bewhat I imagined when I first noticed it. I said yes as soon as I could -careful not to interrupt him.

We snapped a few dark, grainy photos with thecity buildings as our backdrop, and I held my hand over my chest blocking myheart from jumping out. Next, I ran home to my city apartment to tell my littlesister the big news.

A few weeks later, Tom and I sat in Lurie Garden for ourengagement photos, wondering to ourselves how each of us got so lucky and ifforever together was long enough.