Dick had planned everything perfectly. After months of preparation, every detail of tonight’s Valentine’s date was set in motion—the reservations at the new Italian restaurant, the string lights lining the outdoor patio, and the choir he secretly arranged to sing your favourite song just before dessert. And, of course, the biggest surprise of the night: the ring. A simple but elegant diamond that he’d been carrying around for weeks, waiting for the perfect moment.

The day had gone off without a hitch, and as he stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his tie and running a hand through his dark hair, he couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face. He’d imagined this night countless times—how your eyes would light up when you saw the restaurant, how you’d smile at his little surprises, how you’d say “yes” when he finally got down on one knee.

But then, just as the evening began, the clouds rolled in. First, a drizzle. Then a steady downpour.

By the time you both arrived at the restaurant, the beautifully arranged outdoor seating area was flooded, and the live choir he had arranged couldn’t even set up their instruments. The weather, of course, didn’t care about his perfectly planned proposal.

Inside the restaurant, you sat across from him, your dress slightly damp from the rain. Your hair, which you had styled so carefully, was frizzing from the humidity, but even now, you still looked breathtaking to him. But Dick’s frustration was written all over his face.

“Dick, it’s okay,” you said softly, catching his gaze as he stared at the ruined setup outside. “We’re together. That’s what matters.”

He smiled ruefully, knowing you were right but feeling the disappointment all the same. “I wanted it to be perfect,” he muttered. “You deserve the best.”