24. Vada
VADA
I wake up to Emory's alarm going off and the immediate awareness that today is the day we're supposed to present three different business proposals to three different potential clients. What I don't expect is to find him already awake, staring at his phone with an expression I can't quite read.
"Morning," I say, rolling over to press a kiss to his shoulder. "You're up early even for you."
"Someone posted a TikTok about us," he says, turning the phone so I can see the screen. "It's got two million views."
"Two million?" I sit up, suddenly wide awake. "What kind of TikTok?"
"The good kind," he says with a grin that makes my heart skip. "Someone stitched together clips from our Paradise Cove content with the song from our first dance, and the comments are... well, see for yourself."
I scroll through hundreds of comments, and they're all variations of the same theme: people invested in our love story, asking when we're getting married, sharing their own reunion romance stories, calling us "relationship goals" and "proof that soulmates exist."
"This is crazy," I say, though I can't help smiling at how genuinely happy people seem to be for us. "Look at this one—'These two give me hope that my person is still out there somewhere.'"
"And this one," Emory adds, pointing to another comment. "'Can we please get an update on whether they're engaged yet? I'm emotionally invested in this love story.'"
"They're going to be so disappointed when we don't give them the fairy tale timeline they're expecting," I say, but something about the way Emory's looking at me suggests he's thinking about something.
"What if we did?" he asks quietly.
"Did what?"
"Give them a fairy tale," he says, setting down his phone to turn and face me fully. "What if we got married?"
My heart stops completely, then restarts at about triple speed. "Emory—"
"I know it's fast," he says quickly, like he's afraid I'll shoot down the idea before he can explain.
"I know we've only been back in each other's lives for a month.
But Vada, I've never been more sure of anything.
This isn't just about what other people want to see—this is about what I want. What we want."
"What do we want?" I ask, though my pulse is racing in a way that suggests I already know the answer.
"Everything," he says simply. "The business, the life, the future, all of it. With you. Forever."
The certainty in his voice makes my chest tight with emotion that's bigger than excitement, bigger than love, bigger than anything I've felt before. Because he's right—I do want everything with him.
"Yes," I say, the word coming out before I can overthink it. "Yes to all of it. Yes to forever."
The smile that spreads across his face is so bright it could power the entire building. "Really?"
"Really," I confirm, and then he's kissing me with the kind of desperate joy that makes me forget we have client calls in three hours.
"We should probably talk about logistics," I say when we break apart, though I'm making no effort to move away from him.
"Probably," he agrees, his hands already sliding under my sleep shirt. "But maybe after we celebrate properly?"
"How long is properly?" I ask, even as I'm pulling his shirt over his head.
"However long it takes," he says against my neck, and honestly, client calls can wait.
Two hours later, we're lying in bed thoroughly satisfied and slightly panicked about how much time we need to make up for this morning.
"Okay," I say, forcing myself into planning mode despite being completely distracted by Emory's hands tracing patterns on my back. "If we're doing this—and apparently we are—we need to think about timing and how this fits with our business goals."
"What are you thinking?"
"We want something beautiful and romantic, but also something that showcases exactly what we can create for clients," I say, the idea taking shape as I speak. "A destination wedding that's genuinely us, but also the ultimate business demonstration."
"I love that," Emory says immediately. "Where were you thinking?"
"Mexico," I say without hesitation. "Tulum specifically. I've been wanting to work with those venues, and the setting is absolutely perfect for both content creation and showing potential clients what we can do."
"When?" he asks, and something about the way he says it suggests he's as eager as I am to make this official.
"Soon," I say without hesitation. "Like, really soon. Two months?"
"Two months?" Emory sits up, looking at me with obvious surprise. "That's not much time to plan a destination wedding."
"It's perfect timing to plan a destination wedding," I correct with a grin. "We're literally destination wedding planners, Emory. If we can't pull off our own celebration in two months, what does that say about our business?"
"Fair point," he says, leaning down to kiss me again. "And you're right about the business opportunity. Our own wedding could be the best marketing we ever create."
"Exactly," I say, already mentally planning. "We document everything, show off our vendor relationships, demonstrate what we can coordinate. Our followers get the fairy tale content they want, and potential clients get to see exactly what we're capable of."
"But," Emory says with a more serious expression, "this isn't just about business, right? This is about us getting married because we want to be married."
"Of course," I say immediately, settling against his chest. "The business showcase is amazing, but the real reason is that I can't wait to be your wife."
"Good," he says, tightening his arms around me. "Because I can't wait to be your husband."
The rest of the morning passes in a blur of client calls that go incredibly well, probably because we're both radiating the kind of happiness that comes from being newly engaged. By lunch, we've booked two more destination weddings and a corporate retreat that will take us to the Amalfi Coast.
"We should probably start actually planning this celebration," I say over sandwiches at our kitchen counter. "Two months isn't that long when you're coordinating international vendors."
"Where do we start?" Emory asks, already pulling up his laptop.
"Venue first," I say, scrolling through my contacts. "I've been building relationships with some incredible properties in Tulum. Let me reach out and see what's available."
Twenty minutes later, we've secured the most romantic location I've ever seen for our wedding. It's a stunning resort built around natural cenotes, with ancient Mayan ruins and gorgeous beaches. Perfect for both our celebration and showcasing what we can create.
"Maya's going to lose her mind when we tell her," I say, already texting our best friend.
"In a good way or a bad way?"
"Both," I say with a laugh. "She's going to be thrilled that we're getting married and completely offended that we got engaged without consulting her opinion on every single detail."
My phone rings immediately. Maya's face appears on screen looking simultaneously excited and accusatory.
"Did you just text me that you're engaged?" she demands without preamble.
"Surprise?" I say weakly, holding up my left hand to show the ring Emory slipped on my finger while we were planning.
"When did this happen? Why didn't you call me immediately? Where's the ring from? When's the wedding?" Maya fires off questions rapid-fire.
"This morning, because we were busy celebrating, it's gorgeous, and two months from now in Tulum," I answer quickly.
"Two months?" Maya's eyes widen. "Vada, that's not enough time to plan a destination wedding!"
"It's enough time to plan our destination wedding," Emory says, sliding into frame. "Hey, Maya."
"Don't you 'hi Maya' me, Emory Wise," she says, but she's grinning as she says it. "I've been waiting years for this phone call."
We spend the next hour coordinating with Maya about wedding party duties, travel arrangements, and the million details that go into planning a celebration in Mexico.
By the time we hang up, we've established that Maya will be my maid of honor, Stella will fly in as a bridesmaid, and both of them are sworn to help us create the most incredible wedding content ever.
"This is going to be perfect," I say, looking at our preliminary timeline. "Romantic, beautiful, and the ultimate business showcase."
"Plus," Emory adds with a grin that makes me want to jump him again, "we get to plan our dream wedding while building our brand."
The afternoon passes in a blur of vendor outreach and venue coordination.
We connect with photographers, florists, and caterers in Tulum, leveraging our industry relationships to create something truly spectacular.
Every conversation reinforces how smart this decision is—our own wedding will demonstrate our capabilities better than any portfolio could.
"Look at this response," Emory says, showing me an email from a floral designer. "She's offering to donate arrangements in exchange for content featuring her work."
"And the photographer wants to trade services for social media promotion," I add, scrolling through similar offers. "Everyone wants to be part of this."
"That's because they know it's going to be incredible," he says, pulling me onto his lap. "And they know we're going to make them look amazing."
That evening, as we're cooking dinner and discussing color palettes like it's the most normal thing in the world, I catch myself thinking about how perfect this feels.
Not just the wedding planning, but the domestic routine we've built, the way we work together on everything, the easy intimacy of planning our future.
"What are you smiling about?" Emory asks, catching my expression as I stir pasta sauce.
"Just thinking about how much I love this," I say honestly. "The planning, the business opportunity, the fact that in two months I'm going to marry you in paradise."
"Best decision ever," he agrees, wrapping his arms around me from behind. "Though I have to admit, it's going to be hard to focus on anything else for the next two months."
"Good thing planning our wedding is literally our job now," I say, leaning back against his chest.
Later, as we're lying in bed making lists of everything we need to coordinate, I realize that this might be the most perfectly us solution to building our business and our relationship simultaneously. We get our dream wedding and our ultimate portfolio piece all at once.
"Two months," Emory says, looking at the calendar on his phone.
"Two months," I agree, and something about saying it out loud makes it feel real in the best way.
"Any second thoughts?" he asks, though his tone suggests he's not worried about my answer.
"None," I say immediately. "You?"
"Only that we didn't think of this sooner," he says, pulling me closer. "I can't wait to marry you, Vada King."
"I can't wait to marry you either, Emory Wise," I reply, and mean it with every cell in my body.
Some love stories happen gradually. Others happen all at once in paradise and just keep getting better. As I drift off to sleep planning our destination wedding and thinking about forever with my favorite person, I realize we're definitely the second kind.