"I had to make sure it met preservation protocols," he defended, still on one knee. "There's a whole file on its provenance. Color-coded."
A laugh bubbled up in my chest, equal parts joy and absolute certainty. Because Jack Morrison would propose with a historically significant ring, and he'd have it professionally documented. Of course, he'd choose to do this at the museum where I'd first assaulted him with dental tools.
"Is that a yes?" Mike called from the crowd. "Because we have a betting pool-"
"Of course, it's a yes," Jack's grandmother interrupted. "I have Victorian marriage customs documented right here-"
"Mother," Jack's father sighed. "Maybe let them have this moment without historical reference materials?"
"I have the preservation protocols for wedding rings ready," my father offered helpfully. "Very specific humidity requirements-"
"Yes," I said, cutting through the family chaos. "Yes to all of it. Even the historically questionable medical school ring tradition."
Looking around at our families, our friends, our perfectly imperfect blend of worlds - it feels right.
Jack's smile could have powered the entire museum's preservation system. He slid the ring onto my finger - perfectly sized because he'd had it professionally fitted to modern standards while maintaining historical integrity.
"I love you," he said softly, standing to pull me close. "Even when you assault me with dental tools."
"I love you too. Even when you quote Victorian medical texts during hockey games."
"That's still a valid strategy."
"It’s kinda not."
But I kissed him anyway, in the medical history section where everything had started. Our families cheered, and the team started chanting something suspiciously like "Team Medical History Forever." I was pretty sure Dr. Pierce was wiping away tears while pretending to adjust the display lighting.
"Just wait," Mike said later during the celebration. "We're planning the most historically accurate hockey-themed wedding ever. Tommy's already researching Victorian sports ceremonies-"
"No," Jack and I said simultaneously.
But watching our families and friends celebrate together - the team discussing preservation techniques with museum staff, our parents debating the historical significance of various traditions, Jack's grandmother sharing Victorian marriage customs with my academic advisors - I knew we'd figure it out.
Because some things - like love found between hockey rinks and medical history, like proposals that combined historical significance with future promises, like being exactly who you are with someone who loves every complicated part of you - don't need to fit perfectly into any category.
They just need to be perfectly imperfect.
Even if they involve historically questionable medical school traditions.
Especially then.
"You know," Jack said later, after the celebration had moved to the reception hall, "I had the ring authenticated by three different experts. Just to be sure it met your documentation standards."
We were back in the medical history section, stealing a quiet moment among the displays that had witnessed so much of our story.
"The Bruins' medical staff helped, actually," he continued. "Turns out their team doctor has connections in historical jewelry authentication. He's excited about incorporating some historic medical knowledge into their training programs."
"Is this your way of telling me you're going to quote Victorian surgical techniques during NHL games?"
"The development coaches are surprisingly open to innovative strategy."
"That's not going to work at a professional level."
"Watch me." His smile was confident. "I already have the Providence coaching staff interested in historical training methods. Their strength coach actually collects antique exercise equipment."
I laughed, leaning into him. "You're really going to do this, aren't you? Bring medical history into professional hockey?"
"Why not? It worked in college." He pulled me closer, careful of the nearby displays. "Plus, I have this brilliant fiancée who's going to revolutionize sports medicine research by connecting historical practices to modern techniques."