We get out of the car and walk toward a field and into a tent, where a man and a woman ask us all sorts of questions and make us sign a waiver. I barely see what I’m signing.

“Did I just give away all my possessions? Are we joining a cult?” I ask, snickering.

“Sort of. Do you want a full surprise or it’s enough of a surprise as it is?”

“Is it a nice surprise?”

“I hope so, otherwise it’s going to be a long drive back.”

“Full surprise then,” I say, feeling suddenly risqué.

“OK. I don’t have a blindfold, so—”

He puts his hands on my eyes. I feel my eyes burning under his touch and shiver.

“Sorry. Too cold?” he asks and rubs his hands together, then puts them back on.

No. Not too cold. My eyes burn even more and that hot sensation is going through my body all the way to my toes. Is it normal to react like this when he innocently touches me?

He leads me forward and helps me climb over something. As soon as my feet touch a marshmallow-like surface, I a man’s voice asking if we’re ready.

“I’m not sure,” I say laughing.

“We’re ready,” says Ethan.

Although I have no idea where we are or what we’re doing (hopefully not bungee jumping), I feel strangely calm. He’s here with me, his hands on my eyes. Everything’s fine.

I feel a movement, then hear a hiss, and I put my hands on his to make him let go.

“Not yet,” he says. “Just a bit longer,” and I pull my hands back.

Movement again, this time stronger, and an actual physical pit in my stomach. We’re lifting. I’m not imagining, we’re… are we floating?

I don’t know if it’s seconds or minutes, but he takes off his hands and when I open my eyes, I’m so shocked I genuinely feel like crying.

We’re up in the air, the sun is rising. We’re in a hot air balloon above fields and vineyards and a beautiful lake. And I’m completely and utterly speechless. I don’t even try to say something because I know it will not come out intelligible.

“Good morning again,” he says. “This time, properly.”

“Wha—this is—we are—”

I can’t even make a sentence.

The balloon swishes to the side, I lose my balance and Ethan grabs my hand to prop me back up. I’m up, I’m fine now, but he doesn’t let go and I don’t pull my hand either. The thing is, I don’t want him to let go. It’s scary and confusing and it doesn’t make sense, but I don’t want him to let go. I want him to hold my hand and cover my eyes again with his hands and… kiss me. I look away, ashamed of these thoughts. I shouldn’t have them. But I do.

The man piloting the balloon stands away from us, on the other side of the basket, giving us privacy. The other night was picture-perfect, but this moment is a hundred times that.