Save the Dates Sent! Formal Invites to Come... 🤩🥳

Evan came across Steve’s profile on Tinder in early 2022. Steve had funny answers to the app’s prompts, and, to top it off, he had a picture with a German Shepherd puppy. (Don’t tell Eddy.) Evan’s decision to swipe right was pretty much made for him. The next day, Steve swiped right too. And that could’ve been the beginning… but, no, not quite. Evan, being the eager, proactive guy that he is, sent the first message shortly after matching. And then… nothing. Steve, in classic fashion, left the message hanging. A few months went by, and while Evan was doing some “spring cleaning” of his inbox (because clearly it was filled to the brim with responses from other matches…), he stumbled across the unanswered message to Steve. Normally, this would’ve been the end of the story. But there was something about Steve’s humor, his face (let’s be real), and the fact that he wasn’t 40-plus miles away in Boston that made Evan try again. Plus, the (entirely irrelevant) German Shepherd puppy was still irresistible. This time, Steve replied in less than a day, and the conversation took off! A date was set, and Evan picked The East End in Providence for their first meeting. But, because the universe likes to sprinkle on some inconveniences, Evan arrived early, only to find out that The East End was closed. While Evan frantically searched for a backup plan, Steve appeared, knocking on the window of his car—having snuck up on a scooter, of all things. With a cautious grin, Steve asked, “You’re not an axe murderer, right?” To which Evan replied, “Not on Tuesday nights.” With that icebreaker out of the way, they found another place for drinks. The evening was full of stories, laughs, and a narrowly avoided injury when Evan tripped over a stool. (Why is the Walnut Room so dark anyway?). Despite the detours, the date was a success. Evan’s very casual follow-up text survey sealed the deal for a second date. And now, here we are, about to get married. Guess that second message paid off.

After two years of dating and a year of living together, Steve and I both started thinking about the next step. Separately, though. You’ll read how that plays out…but to preface, we talked about getting married and knew we wanted to continue building our lives together. 2024 was a big year for us. Steve turned 30, I sold my house - well, Steve sold it, and waived his commission, too - and a few other milestones were quietly celebrated. I had the bright idea to plan a big vacation (so, I suppose there was a commission after all). We “settled” on our choice: a cruise. And at the same time, I thought, ‘what a perfect time to propose!’ Of course, I assumed I was the only one with this brilliant idea. (Spoiler: I wasn’t.) Secretly, under the cover of the workday (as one does), I started talking with a jeweler to design a ring for Steve. He, meanwhile, had long since called both our moms and told them he was planning to propose this summer. We were both charting our courses to the same destination; only, one of us wasn’t sweating the very real potential of a delivery delay ruining the moment… On the weekend before the cruise, we took a trip to Vermont with some friends. During the (three and a half hour) drive up, Steve floated the idea of having ‘sandwiches at sunset’ down at Beavertail State Park on Sunday evening. It was a romantic notion, because we shared one of our first dates there, but I was skeptical that he would still want to after a full weekend, long drive home, and needing to get work done before the week began. As the adventurer who loves to put off the Sunday scaries, however, I gladly agreed. Much to my surprise, despite two days full of debauchery and lazy river tubing, Steve not only remembered his suggestion; he doubled down! He said we should bring the dogs. (The two who we knew wouldn’t unintentionally fall off a cliff, that is!) First, though, he needed to take a client to several open houses and get his haircut. I became suspicious. The hour was getting late, and our cruise was still a week away. But who was I, of all people, to question how fast hair grows. We raced the sunset that evening, arriving at Beavertail with less than twenty minutes to spare. Steve placed a blanket down, unpacked the sandwiches, and took about two bites before confiding in me that he’d enjoyed Wendy’s earlier in the day. Classic. Putting it aside, he got up and stoically walked over to the cliff face. Having some idea where this was going now, I followed. With the sun setting and waves literally crashing against rocks for his backdrop, Steve got down on one knee and popped the question. You’re reading this on our wedding website, so you know I said yes, but not without throwing in, “You beat me by a week!” Steve, making smug look cute, said “I like to win.” And honestly, that’s us in a nutshell. Oh, and for those wondering - yes, my ring for Steve arrived in time. Not one to be outdone, I proposed too, on the balcony of our cabin in Aruba. It would’ve been on Palm Beach at sunset, but Steve didn’t want “sand in his shoes.” 😒