Planning a wedding, Lina discovered, was exhausting.
There were vendors to contact, decisions to make, endless lists to manage. Her calm, writer's life was replaced by constant emails and appointments.
"I had no idea it would be this much work," she groaned, collapsing onto the couch after a meeting with a florist.
Kai handed her tea. "We can elope. Run away to some island and just... do it."
"Tempting. But our families would kill us."
"Small price to pay for peace."
She laughed. "You're not helping."
The guest list was its own battle.
Lina's family was large—aunts, uncles, cousins, all expecting invitations. Kai's family was small but complicated. His mother, of course. The cousin Soo-jin. A few others who had reached out since his father's death.
"Thirty people," Lina said, staring at the list. "We said thirty people. This is sixty."
"Fifty-eight," Kai corrected. "I counted."
"That's almost double!"
"We can cut. We don't need—" He pointed at random names. "Do we really need your mother's cousin twice removed?"
"She'll be offended."
"She'll get over it."
They argued, compromised, argued more. By the end of the night, the list was down to forty-two.
"Progress," Lina declared.
"Barely."
The dress was another challenge.
Lina had always imagined her wedding dress—simple, elegant, something she could move in. But every shop she visited pushed elaborate gowns with trains and beading and veils longer than she was tall.
"You're a bestselling author," one saleswoman said. "You need to make a statement."
"The statement is 'I'm marrying the love of my life.' Does it need to be that loud?"
The saleswoman didn't understand.
Mia came to the rescue.
"Forget the fancy shops," she declared. "We're going vintage. Small boutiques. Places that understand 'simple and elegant.'"
They found the dress on their third try—a small shop run by an elderly woman who listened to Lina's vision and pulled out exactly what she wanted.
Cream silk, simple lines, a back that dipped just enough to be romantic. Perfect.
"This is it," Lina whispered, looking in the mirror.
Mia cried. The shop owner cried. Lina cried.
"It's perfect," Mia sniffled. "Absolutely perfect."
Kai's suit was easier.
He knew what he wanted—classic black, simple, no fuss. A tailor made adjustments, and within an hour, it was done.
"You're not going to cry when you see me?" Lina teased.
"Probably." He smiled. "I cry at everything involving you."
"It's true. He does."
They stood together in the tailor shop, imagining the day.
"Forty-two people," Lina said. "Simple dress. Music room. It's going to be beautiful."
Kai pulled her close. "The only thing that matters is you. Everything else is just details."
She kissed him softly. "When did you get so romantic?"
"I've always been romantic. You just bring it out of me."
The weeks flew by.
Invitations sent. Vendors booked. A million small decisions made and checked off.
Through it all, Lina kept writing—her next novel, a story about second chances, about love that survives the impossible. Her editor loved it.
"This is your best work," she said. "There's something different about it. Deeper."
Lina smiled. "I'm writing from a different place now. Not longing anymore. Gratitude."
"That's beautiful."
"It's true."
The night before the wedding, Lina couldn't sleep.
She sat by the window of her hotel room—they'd decided to stay separately the night before, tradition—and watched the stars.
Her phone buzzed.
Kai: "Can't sleep."
Lina: "Me neither."
Kai: "Nervous?"
Lina: "Not nervous. Just... excited. Ready."
Kai: "Same. I've been waiting for this my whole life."
Lina: "Mine too. Even when I didn't know it."
Kai: "Tomorrow, I marry my best friend."
Lina: "Tomorrow, I become your wife."
Kai: "I love you, Lina. Always have. Always will."
Lina: "I love you too. See you at the altar."
She fell asleep smiling, her phone clutched to her chest, dreaming of tomorrow.