His chat-up line did not deserve a reply. She replied anyway.

Their story

Three years at Stirling University. The same small campus, the same crowd, a pile of mutual friends between them, and Louis and Mel never once crossed paths. Then in the summer of 2021, the summer before their final year, Mel decided to brave the dating apps again, and Louis swiped his way in.

He was not taking it especially seriously, and it showed. He opened with what I can only describe as an impressively terrible chat-up line, the kind of line that has no business getting an answer. Mel answered. A week later they met up, both of them expecting very little, and they were best friends straight away. From then on they were more or less inseparable. Mel's verdict on the day was that he was chatty and a proper gentleman, and that he looked like his profile pictures, which anyone who has done the apps will tell you is a genuine bonus. Louis thought she was funny, and very pretty. Spot on, the pair of them.

A few months in, Louis walked into the pub one night to find Mel there with her pals Leah and Jade, and the three of them decided it would be hilarious to pretend he did not exist. Completely blanked him. Louis was left trying to convince his own friends that he really was seeing this girl and had not made her up. Mel eventually took pity, walked over to his table and sorted it out, and his pals say he spent the rest of the night man-marking her round the pub like a lost puppy. That, he says, is when he knew he was in deep.

Then came her 21st. Mel's family organised a surprise birthday dinner and Louis went along thinking he was about to meet her mum and dad. In his own words, he was ambushed by the whole family. They took one look at him and kept him.

They graduated together in May 2022. Mel trained as a primary teacher and got through a probationary year that involved more than a few tears, and Louis did a postgraduate degree and went into property management. For a while it was Falkirk to Bathgate and back again, until in May 2023 they bought their first flat in Bathgate and settled into cosy nights in and late walks.

The proposal, and a secret actually kept

In November 2024 Louis asked Mel's dad for his blessing, halfway round a golf course, and then snuck an afternoon off work to buy the ring. Mel had no idea. Then on 6 April 2025, at Elie beach on the Fife coast, one of their favourite spots, he got down on one knee.

Here is my favourite bit. Mel was so astonished that Louis had managed to keep an entire secret that she needed a minute to take in what was happening, and Louis had to double-check she had actually said yes. She had, and a family friend he had quietly lined up got both stunned faces on camera. They celebrated with their parents in a favourite wee pub nearby, and then, in the middle of planning a wedding, they bought a new house round the corner, because why do one big thing at a time. They moved in this April.

Louis will be the first to tell you who does the planning in that house. When he first emailed to book me, he signed off with: "It's Mel you really want to speak to as she will be the one with the ideas I imagine!" He was right, and the ceremony was very much built together, mainly by Mel. When I sent the draft over, Louis wrote back that they "absolutely love it and we were very emotional reading over it." That is the email every celebrant wants.

They are opposites in the ways that help. Louis is the one who reminds Mel that nothing is ever too serious and life is for having fun, and Mel is the calm that gets Louis to switch off and enjoy a quiet night in. They share a sense of humour that some would call questionable, and most evenings they go for a walk and talk about their day, their hopes, or, in their own words, "sometimes complete rubbish." Louis could talk the hind legs off a donkey. What they want next is more of the same, and very soon a puppy.

The ceremony

CM Legato, the pianist Ciaran McBrearty, played the bridal party in: four bridesmaids, then Mel with her dad Gordon, down an aisle of ivory chair sashes towards Louis, whom I had described to the room a few minutes earlier as handsome and a wee bit nervous. Both were accurate.

Louis and Mel had asked for an unplugged ceremony, so their guests watched it with their own eyes, and once the marriage schedule was signed I invited everyone up to take their own wee photo of the moment. It works every time. People are properly in the room, and nobody spends the vows looking at the back of somebody else's phone.

Then the secrets. I ask every couple to tell me privately what they love about each other and one wee thing that could do with some work, and I read them out for the first time on the day. Mel said Louis is her safe person and feels like home. She also reported that he has "not an ounce of rhythm" and lets the side down on the dance floor. Louis said the quiet Mel people meet at work is nothing like the one at home, who rarely stops chatting, singing and dancing. His one complaint was that she needs nine hours' sleep a night and ideally an afternoon nap, and he can already picture himself putting Mel and a future baby down for their naps at the same time. He then admitted she looks so peaceful asleep on the couch that he would not change a thing.

A moment's silence, the vows, and a loud "We do!" from every guest when I asked if they would stand by these two. Then the rings, which Louis and Mel had hidden under a seat somewhere in the room. I asked everybody to have a look under their chairs, with the usual warning that these are not wedding favours, and Cameron came up with them to a round of applause. A couple of minutes later I was declaring Louis and Mel married.

Marrying at Citation yourself?

Citation is the old Sheriff Court on Wilson Street, built in 1844, and the sandstone columns out front are one of the best sights in the Merchant City. Weddings here are exclusive use, so the whole building is yours: ceremony, drinks and dinner without anybody getting on a bus. Louis and Mel were married at two, and by ten past three we were standing in the bar with a glass of fizz, among the booths and the big gilt mirror.

A few things from the front of the room. The ceremony room is long, with bare sandstone walls, wooden floors and big windows, and it needs very little dressing: flowers on the sill and a couple of pillar arrangements were all it took. If you are planning anything playful, tell the venue team early. Hidden rings only work if somebody knows exactly which seat they are under and keeps it reserved. And think seriously about going unplugged. In a room this handsome, leave the pictures to your photographer and let everyone else simply watch. It is also an easy one for guests: a short walk from both Queen Street and Central stations.

There is more on the building and how a day there runs in my Citation venue guide, and if you are marrying anywhere in the city my Glasgow wedding celebrant page is the place to start. I live in Kelvinbridge, a few stops away on the Subway, so couples booking me for Glasgow weddings pay no travel fees. If you are wondering how the day actually unfolds, read what happens at a humanist wedding, and if you are deciding who walks with you, there is a guide to who gives you away. Fancy getting the guests involved with the rings another way? Try a ring warming.