It was a gallery opening in the Marais. Marco was arguing loudly about whether Warhol was a genius or a provocateur — loudly enough for half the room to hear. Vivienne, a print designer with strong opinions, disagreed louder. They debated for two hours, drank too much Sancerre, and agreed on almost nothing.

He called the next day. She made him wait. Three years later, he proposed at the same gallery — in front of the same painting that started the fight. She said yes before he finished the sentence.