It was the end of fashion week in Paris, 2015. On a whim, Ash and I decided to take a trip to the Greek island of Santorini. So we flew from Paris to Athens, and took an 8 hour ferry ride to the remote volcanic island. I already had the ring at this point, and had been keeping it with me in case a spontaneous opportunity to propose came up. This was the perfect fit. We rented four-wheelers, and were exploring the island, when we came upon a dirt road. We stopped, and both agreed to go down it to explore further. We zig-zagged down this dirt road, and it led us to what appeared to be a private beach (later came to find out that beach was named Kambia Beach). The waves were huge, and no one was around. So we parked our ATVs and started to explore the beach. Ashlee was looking for rocks, as she typically does when abroad, because she likes to bring back unique ones for her father to collect. I knelt down, as if I was picking up a stone, and looked up at Ashlee and said “How about this rock?” with the ring in hand. “Will you marry me?”