He wanted to give her the Moon, but it seemed too far away. Most nights, they couldn’t see it except as a dirty orange blur hidden behind a picket of skyscrapers.
One day he rented a boat and took her out on the canal. He rowed toward a little footbridge in the tourist quarter.
“Why are we stopping here?” She asked.
“Just wait.” As the sun sank behind the office towers, the city lights came up, illuminating the underside of the bridge.
She gasped at the perfect, golden crescent reflected in the water.
He pulled the ring from his pocket.

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