You remember the day she said yes, but that was a long time ago. You were young, living in the city, waiting for your opportunity to escape that bustle and settle down. You see her now, lounging on the back deck with a book, overlooking the slope of your backyard, thick in old-growth forest and underbrush. You’re standing below her, dirt on your jeans and gloves as you maintain the slate you both laid through it when you first moved in. Beside you is the vegetable garden, behind you, the lemon tree, and before you, with the light glinting off of the emerald in her ring. Like a lighthouse marks the headland, her lounging form above you marks life’s ultimate satisfaction.