Karabo & Anele

We met at a wedding we weren't supposed to be at. Karabo's friend was getting married; Anele was the photographer's assistant. We danced once. I left without getting your number.

A whole year later, in a Stellenbosch wine bar, we ran into each other on a Tuesday. I asked for a coffee. You said yes immediately. We've barely been apart since.

We moved in together in March. We argued about a couch for six weeks and then kept neither option. It's still the best decision we've ever made.

Karabo proposed in November, with a ring and a speech. Anele forgot to say yes — I was crying — and asked Karabo back the next morning, with a ring of my own.

We are getting married. Outside. Under olive trees. With you, if you'll have us.