I am always proud to be a thoughtful and meticulous guy. It is because of that personality that when I decided to ask Trang for marriage, I spent a whole month creating a "lifetime" marriage proposal script that was meticulously meticulous.
My dream image is filled with cinematic colors: a luxurious French restaurant, shimmering candlelight, melodious violin sound and the decisive highlight is the expensive diamond ring cleverly hidden inside the fatty chocolate mousse cake. I drew a scene of Trang gently using a spoon to enjoy, suddenly stopping when touching the ring, then bursting with emotion and nodding in the joyful applause of diners around.
But life is not like a dream. My perfect script completely collapsed just because of an unexpected factor: That day, Trang had just gone through a 12-hour long working day and hadn't had time to put anything in her stomach.
After the two of us finished the main dish, a pretty chocolate mousse cake was brought out. While I was nervously holding my breath, secretly turning on the phone camera under the table to record moments of love, Trang happily enjoyed the dessert with excitement.
After eating half of the cake, Trang suddenly stopped, her face suspicious and then slightly frowned as if she had just swallowed something. Hearing her hesitantly say that she seemed to have just swallowed a strange object, my heart popped. Looking back at the unfinished cake on the plate, my face was bloodless when I panicked to realize that the engagement diamond ring hidden inside was gone. I awkwardly revealed the truth that the proposal gift might have been neatly in her stomach. Trang's smile immediately became stiff, the two of us could only look at each other in overwhelming silence.
Immediately after that, the romantic script under the candlelight was completely torn apart. I hurriedly grabbed Trang's hand and rushed out of the restaurant, took a taxi straight to the emergency department of the nearest hospital.
That night, there was no champagne or roses, only pale white fluorescent lights, the sound of a heart rate monitor chirping, and an X-ray picture clearly showing a diamond ring lying prominently in my fiancée's stomach. The night shift team had a heart-stirring laugh. The doctor confessed that, after ten years of working as a surgeon to remove all kinds of foreign objects, this was the first time he had to undergo endoscopy to remove a proposal ring.
Looking at the ring that had just been given out, still lying in the sterilized bag, Trang hugged her sore throat after the endoscopy and looked at me with both laughter and tears. Not missing a second, I decided to "play big": kneel down on one knee right next to the hospital bed, raise the nylon bag containing the ring to express my wish to go with her for the rest of my life.
Trang laughed to tears and then nodded in the loud applause of the entire on-duty team. My proposal, although somewhat strange and completely out of control, is definitely a priceless "cry and laugh" memory that my husband and I will cherish for life.
