Everyone loved the story of their proposal. Ena and Vedad were trapped in a street as snow fell on the windshield, missed a concert and ended up in a little bakery. There, between a sack of flour and a tray of warm rolls, Vedad produced a ring. Ena said yes. His father called it proof that fate knew better than schedules.
Three weeks later, while reviewing invoices for the renovation of the family hotel in her work as an architect, Ena found an unusual item: private access closure. The date was the day of the proposal. Attached was a message instructing a delivery company owner to keep two trucks in her street for at least forty minutes.
Vedad's father greeted her question with laughter. He said there had been no danger, only a little organization. The baker was an old friend. The rolls had been ordered too. His son had hesitated too long, Ena was always rushing somewhere, and someone had needed to help happiness along.
A framed photograph of the proposal already stood in his office. In it, Ena recognized the man who had supposedly happened to pass through the bakery and offered to take their picture. His father said the man worked at the hotel; she simply had not met him. Every detail that had held her surprise now revealed someone's instructions. Even her favorite song on the radio had been arranged.
"What if I'd said no?" she asked.
He waved away the question as though she had asked what would happen if cherry trees flowered in January. That was when the story first disgusted her. It was not the preparation of the proposal that disturbed her. It was that everyone had treated her answer as a foregone conclusion.
Vedad had not known about the trucks. He had known about the bakery and allowed his father to help. When she showed him the invoice, his face changed. He did not try to defend his father, but asked whether one excess had to spoil a beautiful memory. Ena removed the ring and placed it on the kitchen table.
"We can repair the memory. First, we need to see who's arranging our lives."
They canceled the hotel wedding the family had already begun organizing. The venue payment was not refunded in full, causing more complaints than the canceled plans themselves. Vedad told his father he would cover the lost deposit himself. Ena did not ask for another proposal. She asked to discuss their apartment, his work and her wish to spend a year on a project in another city.
In April, they went to the municipal office simply to ask about available dates. A fine rain was falling. Outside the entrance, Vedad paused, and Ena laughed and checked for delivery trucks. There were none.
Then she took the ring from her own pocket. "September suits me," she said. Vedad opened his calendar, looked at her and closed it. "Me too."