Later that year, Anthony’s parents, Delwin and Larrice, planned a trip to visit all their college friends. Everyone came: Jordan, Anthony’s sister, and Daniel, Jordan’s boyfriend. We all stay in an Airbnb.

Each night, before bed, Anthony would ask if I wanted to go for a walk. I said that might be nice, just to check out the neighborhood. Anthony knows I hate walking. But if it includes a proposal... I might be interested!

We head out to walk and I see this open park and I’m thinking, “He must have scouted this out in advance. That would be a cool place to be proposed to. Down on one knee with the sprinklers or the rain!”

Maybe he’ll propose during the trip. His family is here and we could announce the news to everyone.

First night, we walk. Nothing. Second night, we walk even further. Nothing. Third night, I figure it’ll be at the end of the trip.

We even went to this hotel by the beach. Jordan and Daniel come back from their beach walk in the morning and I’m like that’s nice. Wondering if Anthony plans to propose at the beach.

With time being short, I was planning my own trips to New York for New Year’s for Dick Clark’s Rockin’ Eve and Carrie Underwood, Christmas in Virginia at a friend’s place and being at the West Coast the remainder of the year.

Then Anthony’s best friend Linda, who had married her husband Andrew, planned to PCS at the end of the year and would be gone for who knows how long. Her farewell dinner landed right between Christmas and New Year’s, which meant flying back to Hawaii for it.

The family trip ends with a trip to Porto’s. Nothing, no proposal. We fly back to Hawaiʻi with only a few days in December to spare.

Feeling like I didn’t have much holiday left, I told Anthony not to worry about the proposal. I wanted to fly out early and have Christmas with my friend in Virginia.

Planning on flying out. He says, “Wait, don’t forget the dinner with Linda. You and I won’t be seeing her for a few years.”

I begrudgingly say okay two steps away from booking my flight. I end up booking my flight the night right after the dinner.

I tell Anthony, whatever happens during this dinner, I’m flying out 10pm SHARP. He says that’s fine, and thanks me for changing my plans for his friend.

Our reservations are at 5pm and I usually take a nap, so Anthony picks out my clothes. He lays out two of the same shirt. I told him, “I don’t want to go matching. That’s too weird.” So I picked another shirt.

The restaurant Linda chose was 53 By The Sea. It used to be one of my favorites, for the pan-seared duck with wild berries and a creamy affogato after.

Then the chef’s visa expired and he had to go back to Japan. He made me the last duck ever served at 53 By The Sea. I never went back. Before that, Anthony and I went almost every day, just for the duck.

Those days were gone, but that’s fine. I wasn’t going for me. I was going for Anthony.

Then, on the way to the restaurant, Linda calls and we have her on speaker. She says she can’t make it. She has her time of the month.

I totally lose it. “No way... NO WAY. I cancelled my plans to fly to Virginia, not to leave from California, to go to a restaurant that isn’t even my favorite anymore.”

She says, “Sorry guys, but you should keep the reservation because I told them to expect you.” We tell her to get better and Anthony hangs up.

Immediately I’m like, “Let’s go to a different restaurant.” Anthony’s like, “What? No, we already have the reservations.”

“No, I want duck. 53 By The Sea doesn’t have duck anymore. I don’t even think they have a good menu. Let’s go somewhere else.”

I bring out my phone and Google “Duck in Honolulu.” Chef Chai comes up. “Perfect! Chef Chai has duck. Let’s go there. We can cancel the reservations.”

He says he doesn’t want to be rude. I know I’m being a pain in the ass right now but felt I sacrificed a lot. I told him, “Okay, but AFTER 53 By The Sea we’re going to Chef Chai’s and getting duck.”

The place is so beautiful. Big Victorian doors, a fountain outside. I heard it was somebody’s mansion before a Japanese magazine company turned it into a restaurant.

We get there and Anthony tells them, “Linda, for two.”

Then Anthony says we should take photos by the stairs. I’m like, “We have so many photos here.” I was in a bad mood, because all this time I could be celebrating on the East side in snow and country music. We take a few photos by the stairs. The ones you see on this site.

They sit us in a half round facing the sea with a beautiful sunset, and I tell Anthony, “I don’t want people knowing we’re a couple in public. We should just eat at a normal table.” He’s like, “But the view is so nice!” I give in because I’m just so defeated at this point.

We open the menu. “I knew it! I knew it!” There’s nothing I want to eat here. Everything is so junk.

Anthony knew it wasn’t my favorite restaurant anymore, but he also knew I had a lot of memories there and always loved the duck.

The only saving grace on the menu is the steak. Great. “Okay, we can go with the steak. Ohh but it’s $140... ouch.”

Anthony says, “Why don’t we get drinks.” I think in my head, “Our bill is going to be like $300 if I get the steak.” He orders a drink, I order a drink. We order appetizers and our food.

There’s a couple sitting in front of us and I’m like, “They’re probably on an anniversary date. Must be nice.” I’m stuck here when I should be in New York. Well, at least I’m flying out tonight.

I realize if I fly out tonight, there won’t be a proposal. So I turn to him and say:

“If I leave tonight, when are you going to propose? I’ll be in New York at the end of the year and you promised it would be by the end of the year.”

And then I go on. “You know, I think it’s fine. You don’t have to propose. I don’t need a proposal. We don’t even need a wedding. Why don’t we just go to the courthouse when we get back. NO stress, you don’t have to worry about proposing. No stress, no anxiety. In 4 hours I’ll be on a plane singing Cowboy Casanova leaning up on the record machine.”

Anthony doesn’t say a word.

The food arrives and I can’t believe it. Did I get prime rib? Why do I have prime rib.

I’m like, what is this. Anthony’s like, prime rib. Prime rib is a steak. I’m like, no way, prime rib is a steak! (I didn’t know prime rib was a steak.) I’m an absolute terror.

I can’t eat this. Anthony’s like, “Don’t worry baby, I’ll eat it.” How can this night be so crazy! I eat like 2 bites and I believe we decided to bring the rest home.

Anthony asks for the dessert menu. I continue on in my head, “This is going to cost $400 now.” He asks me to order the pineapple cake, because he has to use the rest room. I tell him I’m not getting dessert. I’m the one paying for this, since I told him I’d cover Linda and Andrew’s dinner.

So I sit there, ready to go to Chef Chai’s for my duck. At least I have duck and New York to look forward to.

On special occasions 53 By The Sea usually brings out this really nice white cake with a smear of strawberry jam. The lady comes up, not with our dessert, but with a cake that says, “Hey.”

What the hell is going on here. I see the couple in front of me make a small shocked reaction.

Anthony comes back from the bathroom. He’s not a flashy guy. He just looks at me and turns the cake around, and it says, “Marry Me?”

I go from shocked, to feeling bad, to feeling stupid, to feeling happy. I tell him, “Yes, of course!” I’m happy crying, and all the while feeling bad about how much of a terror I’ve been.

The couple in front tell us congratulations. And I’m thinking, “They knew before I did.” I had no clue, no idea he was going to propose tonight. I was definitely surprised. He did everything he could to make sure I had no idea. It was a brilliant setup and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

He brings out two rings. One for me and one for him. We kiss, even in public, because damn, how could I not kiss the man for dealing with my shit.

It was a night to remember, at a restaurant that used to be my favorite and now has one of the best memories anyone could ask for.

Let’s just say, I didn’t leave for New York that night, and I ended up eating the steak eventually...

I did still make it to Dick Clark’s Rockin’ Eve. Just as an engaged man.

If you’re wondering about the significance of the cake, you’ll have to read Our Story. It is much shorter than our engagement story.