Twenty feet apart at work, and neither of them noticed — until one of them did.

Their story

Back in October 2019, Kirsty and Andrew worked for the same company, in different divisions, their desks about twenty feet apart — close enough that they might as well have been strangers on different planets. Kirsty noticed him first, did the obligatory bit of Facebook reconnaissance, and never imagined she'd actually speak to him. Then a Tinder super like from Andrew landed, and after a fair bit of panicking she sent the message that started everything: "Emtec?" His reply — "How do you know?" — missed the fact their desks were twenty feet apart. They talked all night. Their first date was food and mini golf, where Andrew got a front-row seat to a wee temper tantrum over a stubborn golf ball, and discovered Kirsty's "good" Audi A3 was a four-hundred-dent banger with a bumper hanging on for dear life. He knew there and then he'd be doing the driving from now on.

Lockdown sealed it: Andrew turned up at Kirsty's door with his PlayStation under one arm and a packed bag under the other, and just never left. The most important introduction of all had already happened by then — a day out to Loch Lomond Sea Life with Kirsty's son Myles, forts and play-fighting and an instant bond that told Kirsty everything she needed to know. In January 2021, they became a family of four with the arrival of Emily, born one day after Myles's birthday — two birthdays back-to-back in the same hectic January, and they wouldn't change a minute of it.

The proposal

Andrew had planned to ask Kirsty's dad Euan for his blessing over the Christmas break, but the moment never quite arrived — every time he got Euan on his own, a kid needed chasing or the moment slipped away, and then Euan was off back to England for work. So on the 6th of January 2024, with a babysitter booked and a proposal planned for later that evening in Glasgow, Andrew's nerves got the better of him. He'd already picked up the ring under cover of "a haircut." Sitting in silence, waiting for Kirsty to get ready, he decided he couldn't wait for the fancy plan — he proposed right there, alone, in their first home together. Kirsty barely had time to take it in before the taxi outside started tooting. Worth it, every second.

The ceremony

Kirsty walked in with her dad, followed by bridesmaids Nicola, Katie, Amanda and Lisa and flower girl Emily — Myles and Emily both had front-row roles in the day their mum and Andrew built for them. The centrepiece was a handfasting, tied with a tartan woven specially with their names and the date — Kirsty & Andrew, 28/03/26 — looped three times: once for Andrew's love, once for Kirsty's, and once for everyone in the room wishing them well. In the secrets I gather from every couple in confidence and read out for the first time on the day, Andrew described Kirsty stopping her car in the middle of Blantyre Main Street to help a stranger who'd fallen, and Kirsty talked about the pure joy on Andrew's face watching him father Myles and Emily. The one thing that needs work, according to Andrew? Kirsty never admits she's done anything wrong — despite having crashed every car she's ever owned, "none of them her fault, of course."

Marrying at Riverside Lodge yourself?

Riverside Lodge is a genuinely good option if you want an Ayrshire wedding with everything under one roof — ceremony, wedding breakfast and evening do all in the same building, which takes a huge amount of logistics off a couple's plate. It's a five-minute job for guests to move from aisle to top table, which matters more than people think when you've got kids and older relatives in the wedding party. I've written more about the venue on my Riverside Lodge Hotel venue guide, and about the wider area on my Ayrshire page. If a handfasting has caught your eye like it caught Kirsty and Andrew's, my guide to handfasting ceremonies in Scotland covers how it works and what you can make your own.