Labor Day before last, the sun was going down on the back 9. You were gorgeous in that orange afterglow. The greatest DJ and bartender and caddy any golfer could ask for. My golf cart buddy.

We had just had enough transfusions, but I knew for a fact even if we hadn’t had anything but water that I wanted you to be my girlfriend. I asked you if I drove the ball onto the green on 12 if you would be my girlfriend. You laughed, smiled, you got quiet, you looked up, and you said yes.

I sliced my 3 wood right, completely missing the green. We laughed and laughed. I had to ask again on 14. You gave me a second chance. My gap wedge hit the green. You said yes. We ran around the tee box, we kissed. You became my girlfriend!!!

Every Labor Day, even though we live 5 minutes away, we celebrate our relationship together by having a staycation at the Biltmore. We play golf, swim in the pool-even in our fancy outfits after fancy dinners (sorry pool mgmt). We’ve devoured cherry ice cream in the bakery downstairs. We feel like we’re on top of the world at the Biltmore.

I’ve been to three weddings, countless family reunions, and a graduation ceremony in my life at the hotel. I’ve never felt happier, more alive, or in more in love than being at the Biltmore with Bri.