27. Emory
EMORY
Six Months Later
"The Costa Rica couple just confirmed," Vada calls from her desk, pulling off her headset with the grin she gets when we land a big client. "Anniversary celebration for fifty people, full destination coordination, and they specifically want the 'Tulum experience' for their vow renewal."
"Translation?" I ask, though I already know the answer will involve more travel to beautiful places with my wife, which is basically the best job description ever.
"We're booked solid through spring," she says, rolling her chair over to where I'm editing footage from our latest client wedding in Santorini. "And they're willing to pay premium rates because they saw our wedding content and want exactly that energy for their celebration."
I love that our own wedding turned into the best marketing material we could have asked for. The Tulum content went viral in the best way—millions of views, thousands of inquiries, and a waiting list of clients who want us to create the same magic for their celebrations.
"Speaking of energy," I say, saving my edit and turning to face her, "I just locked down three more venue partnerships, including that place in Tuscany we scouted last month."
"The one with the vineyard ceremony space?" Vada's eyes light up with the expression she gets when she's mentally planning logistics.
"That's the one," I confirm. "Plus the villa in Santorini and the castle in Ireland. Our international vendor network is getting pretty impressive."
"It's getting pretty profitable too," she says with obvious satisfaction. "Did you see the quarterly numbers I put together?"
I did see them, and they're ridiculous in the best way.
What started as a collaboration between a stressed travel blogger and an event planner has turned into a full-service luxury destination experience company with a six-month waiting list and profit margins that let us actually enjoy the places we travel to instead of constantly worrying about expenses.
"Unbelievable that we've only been doing this for a year," I say, looking around our home office that's become command central for planning celebrations all over the world.
"Crazy to think we've only been married for six months," Vada corrects with a smile that makes my chest warm.
Six months. Though technically it's been longer than that, if you count our secret island ceremony. But as far as the world knows, we're newlyweds who are absolutely killing it in business and completely obsessed with each other.
Both of those things happen to be true.
"What time's our call with the Amalfi Coast clients?" I ask, checking the calendar that's color-coded in a way only Vada could devise.
"Four our time, which gives us two hours to finish the Bali proposal," she says, already pulling up files on her computer. "Though I should probably mention that I got a text from Derek earlier."
"What does Derek want now?" I ask with the mixture of affection and mild dread that Derek-related news usually inspires.
"He's engaged," Vada says with obvious delight. "Apparently he met someone at our wedding reception and they've been dating long-distance since Tulum. He just proposed during a weekend in Portland."
"Derek found love at our wedding?" I can't help grinning at the irony. "That's actually pretty great."
"It gets better," Vada continues. "He wants to hire us to plan his engagement party. Specifically, he wants us to recreate the 'magic' of our Tulum celebration for his own announcement."
"Does he realize that would be like planning a Derek-themed party?" I ask. "Because that sounds exhausting."
"I already volunteered to handle Derek coordination," Vada laughs. "Consider it payback for all the times he provided running commentary on our relationship."
The afternoon passes quickly as we dive into client work. It's weirdly satisfying to coordinate celebrations for other couples now that we've figured out our own happiness. There's something really cool about helping people create their perfect day while building our own perfect life together.
"Amalfi Coast call went well," I say after we finish our consultation with a couple planning their ten-year anniversary celebration. "They want the full experience—venue coordination, guest management, authentic documentation of the whole week."
"I love anniversary celebrations," Vada says, making notes in our client management system. "There's something really sweet about couples who want to celebrate what they've built together."
"Kind of like us?" I suggest, because even though we're technically newlyweds, sometimes it feels like we've been together forever in the best way.
"Exactly like us," she agrees, then pauses in her note-taking to look at me with an expression I can't quite read. "Can I tell you something?"
"Always," I say, rolling my chair closer to hers.
"I love our life," she says simply. "I love the business, I love the travel, I love that we get to help people celebrate love for a living. But mostly I love that we're building it together."
"Even when it means dealing with Derek's event planning requests?" I ask.
"Even then," she confirms with a laugh. "Though I reserve the right to complain about Derek-related logistics."
"Deal," I agree, leaning over to kiss her because I can, because she's my wife, because we've somehow managed to build exactly the life we both wanted.
My phone buzzes with a notification, and I check it automatically. "Holy shit," I say, staring at the screen.
"What?"
"Our Tulum wedding video just hit ten million views," I say, showing her the numbers. "Ten million people have watched us get married."
"That's insane," Vada says, though she's grinning as she says it. "Good thing it was such a good wedding."
"The best wedding," I agree, though something about her smile suggests she's thinking about more than our public celebration.
That evening, we're cooking dinner together when Stella calls for our weekly check-in. Her face appears on the kitchen tablet looking happy and relaxed.
"How are my favorite newlyweds?" she asks with obvious affection. "Still disgustingly happy?"
"Disgustingly successful too," I say, giving her a quick update on our latest bookings and business growth.
"That's amazing," Stella says with genuine pride. "I love that you two found a way to make being ridiculously in love into an actual career."
"Best job ever," Vada agrees, settling beside me in frame. "Though I have to ask—any chance you'll let us plan your wedding when you're ready?"
"Are you offering?" Stella asks with obvious interest.
"We're insisting," I say immediately. "You've been rooting for us since college. The least we can do is give you the most incredible celebration ever."
"I'll think about it," Stella says with a smile that suggests she's already thinking about it seriously. "Though fair warning—if you plan my wedding, I'm going to expect the full Tulum treatment."
"Deal," Vada and I say simultaneously, which makes Stella laugh.
After we hang up, we finish cooking and settle onto our couch with wine and leftovers, scrolling through the latest comments on our wedding content.
"Look at this one," Vada says, showing me a comment that reads: "These two give me hope that true love actually exists. Their happiness is contagious."
"This one's good too," I say, pointing to another comment: "Can we all just agree that Vada and Emory are living proof that soulmates are real? I need someone to look at me the way they look at each other."
"They're not wrong," Vada says, curling up against my side. "We do look pretty happy."
"That's because we are pretty happy," I point out. "Turns out marrying your favorite person and building a business around celebrating love is a pretty good life plan."
"Who would have thought?" she says with mock surprise.
"Stella," I say immediately. "Stella would have thought. She's been telling me for years that I was in love with you."
"Maya too," Vada admits. "She never bought my claims about being over you."
"Smart women," I say, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Though I'm glad it took us eight years to figure it out."
"Why?"
"Because now we appreciate it," I say honestly. "If this had happened in college, we might have taken it for granted. Now we know how rare this is."
"Plus," Vada adds with a grin, "if we'd gotten together in college, we never would have had our epic Paradise Cove reunion story."
"True," I agree. "And epic reunion stories make great marketing material."
Later, as we're getting ready for bed, I catch myself thinking about how different my life is from a year ago.
Back then, I was stressed about money, uncertain about my future, and living out of suitcases.
Now I'm planning international celebrations with my wife, building something that matters, and looking forward to tomorrow in ways I never expected.
"What are you thinking about?" Vada asks, settling beside me with her laptop to check tomorrow's schedule.
"Just that a year ago, I was flying to Paradise Cove stressed about credit card bills and wondering where my next content opportunity was coming from," I say. "Now I'm married to my favorite person and running a business that books six months out."
"Funny how things work out," she says, though something about her smile suggests she's thinking about more than business success.
"The best things," I agree, settling against the pillows. "The business stuff is just bonus. The real success is this."
"This?"
"Coming home to you every night," I say simply. "Building something together. Being married to someone who makes every day better just by existing."
"That's very romantic for a business conversation," she says, but she's smiling as she says it.
"Maybe that's our secret," I suggest. "We don't separate business and personal because they're both about the same thing—celebrating what matters."
"I like that," she says, closing her laptop and settling against my chest. "Though I should probably mention that celebrating what matters is about to get more interesting."
"How so?"
"I should probably mention that we're expanding into corporate retreats," Vada says with obvious excitement. "Team building experiences that actually build teams instead of just wasting everyone's time."
"That could be huge," I say, already thinking about the possibilities. "Authentic team experiences, beautiful locations, real connection instead of trust falls and rope courses."
"Right," she agrees. "Plus it would give us year-round bookings instead of just wedding season."
"I love how your brain works," I say, which makes her laugh.
"Good thing you married me then," she says.
"Best decision I ever made," I agree, and mean it completely.
As we drift off to sleep with tomorrow's client calls scheduled and next month's travel plans confirmed, I realize that some partnerships are about dividing responsibilities and managing boundaries.
But the best ones are about multiplication—taking what you each bring and creating something bigger than you ever imagined possible.
We started with a collision at a cocktail party and somehow ended up with a life that's better than any content we could create. And the best part isn't the business success or the social media following or the incredible places we get to travel.
The best part is getting to build it all with her.