Our Story

Four years ago, my life took a turn I never expected.

I was working for Bell Canada and had been temporarily transferred from Windsor to Ottawa. I was working long, demanding days—12-hour shifts, seven days a week—living out of a hotel in Kanata, focused entirely on work and routine.

One day, I was dispatched to Carleton Place for an internet fibre installation. That call would change everything.

When I first contacted Vlada, she explained she couldn’t be home for the appointment. I told her I would have to return the job to the system, which usually meant she wouldn’t see a technician again for a few days. She understood, even though she urgently needed her internet service.

I moved on to my next assignment in Ottawa.

But later that same day, something unusual happened—the same job came back to my board.

I called her again, just to confirm. This time, she was available. You could hear the relief and excitement in her voice. She needed the service, and the timing finally worked.

When I arrived at her home in Carleton Place, I walked her through the installation. To bring the fibre line inside, I had to drill through the exterior wall. But as I did, the interior plaster around the window frame gave way and collapsed badly.

Everything stopped in that moment.

I called her in immediately and showed her what had happened. I told her clearly—I would take responsibility and make it right.

After that, I expected it to be handled through normal channels. But a week later, I followed up to see if repairs had been completed. She told me she couldn’t find anyone willing to fix it.

At that time, I was already working extremely long shifts—finishing late at night, staying in Kanata, and still covering jobs across Ottawa. But even with that workload, I made a decision: I would help her myself.

After finishing my shifts, I would clean up, drive the 25 minutes to Carleton Place, and spend my evenings repairing what had been damaged.

What started as a service call slowly became something more.

During those visits, we talked. We laughed. We got to know each other. I met her daughter, and over time, what began as a mistake turned into trust, connection, and genuine care.

Vlada had come to Canada from Ukraine to start over because of the war. She was rebuilding her life from the ground up, trying to create stability and a future for her and her daughter.

And somehow, in the middle of all of that… we found each other.

Our first real date was simple but unforgettable—we went for shawarma on Bridge Street in Carleton Place, then walked along the river together. That night ended with our first kiss.

Eventually, I transferred permanently to Carleton Place. I left the constant travel behind, and we built our life together.

We’ve now been living on Victoria Street in Carleton Place for four years, raising our family and building something real, steady, and full of love.

I even kept pieces of that broken wall. Later, I turned them into a heart-shaped necklace that I gave her on our anniversary—a reminder of where everything began.

Winning this would became the final chapter that turned Carleton Place into our true love story.