Updated Mar 13, 2026 • ~7 min read
“Are you sure about this?”
I’m staring at my phone. At the Instagram post I’ve been drafting and deleting for the past hour.
The photo: Holden and me at the gallery opening. Laughing. His arm around me. Looking genuinely, stupidly happy.
The caption I keep rewriting: Some variation of “surprise, we’re married.”
“I’m sure,” Holden says from the kitchen. He’s making coffee. Being annoyingly calm about the whole thing. “We decided. Today’s the day.”
“But what if—”
“What if what? What if people are shocked? They will be. What if they have questions? They’ll ask. What if some people are judgy? Who cares.”
“I care!”
He brings me coffee. Sits next to me on the couch. “Okay. Tell me what you’re really worried about.”
I take a sip. Think about it.
“I’m worried people will think I’m crazy. Or stupid. Or that we’re making a huge mistake.”
“Some people will think that.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“But the people who matter—Noah, our families, our real friends—they’re happy for us. Everyone else? Their opinions don’t matter.”
He’s right. Of course he’s right.
“Okay,” I say. “Let’s do it.”
“Together?”
“Together. On three?”
We both open Instagram. Pull up our respective posts.
“One,” Holden counts.
“Two,” I add.
“Three.”
We hit post simultaneously.
Then we wait.
Five seconds. Ten. Twenty.
My phone starts buzzing.
Then doesn’t stop.
Comments flood in. Likes. Direct messages. Texts from people who don’t even have Instagram but heard from someone who does.
I’m almost afraid to look.
But when I do, the first comment is from Wren: “FINALLY I CAN TALK ABOUT THIS!!! Been keeping this secret for WEEKS and it was KILLING ME! You two are perfect together! Love you both! 🎉💕”
Next is Margot: “This is the best news! We’re celebrating! Dinner this weekend! No arguments! ❤️”
Then Autumn Hayes: “I KNEW IT! You guys were so cute at lunch! Congratulations!! 😍🎉”
James Chen: “Yo what?! Reid got MARRIED?! Congrats, man! About time you settled down!”
The comments keep coming. Most are congratulatory. Some are shocked. A few are confused. But overall, the response is… positive.
Really positive.
My mom calls within two minutes.
“Tessa Marie Morgan Reid!”
“Hi, Mom.”
“You posted it! You actually posted it!”
“We decided it was time.”
“I’m so glad! Now I can tell everyone at book club! They’re going to die!”
“Please don’t make them die, Mom.”
“Figure of speech, sweetheart. Oh, this is so exciting! I’m sharing it right now!”
She hangs up before I can respond.
Holden’s phone is blowing up too. He’s reading messages and grinning.
“Owen just texted ‘DUDE. WHAT.’ in all caps.”
“Is that good?”
“That’s Owen for ‘congratulations.'” He keeps scrolling. “My mom texted all her friends. She’s using the phrase ‘daughter-in-law’ approximately every other word.”
“Eleanor’s thrilled.”
“She’s beyond thrilled. She’s already planning family Christmas cards.”
My phone buzzes again. This time it’s a text from Raymond.
Raymond: “Saw your post. Congrats, Tessa. Wish you both the best.”
I show Holden.
He raises an eyebrow. “The ex is being gracious.”
“Surprisingly so.”
“Good for him. Shows character.”
We spend the next hour responding to messages. Thank yous and yes-we’re-really-marrieds and no-it’s-not-a-pranks.
By noon, we’re exhausted but relieved.
The secret is out.
Everyone knows.
And the world didn’t end.
“How do you feel?” Holden asks.
“Lighter. Like I’ve been holding my breath for weeks and can finally exhale.”
“Same.”
“Although now everyone’s going to have opinions.”
“Let them. We know what we’re doing.”
My phone rings. Noah.
“Congrats on making it official,” he says when I answer. “The post looks good.”
“You’re not mad we didn’t warn you first?”
“Why would I be mad? I already knew. And I’m happy for you. Both of you.”
“Really?”
“Really. You two are good together. Even if you took the most chaotic route possible to figure it out.”
“That’s kind of our brand now.”
He laughs. “True. Hey, Margot wants to do a celebration dinner. This weekend? Both families?”
“Both families?”
“Yeah. She’s already texted your mom. They’re coordinating. This is happening whether you want it or not.”
“Oh God.”
“It’ll be fun! Or a disaster. Either way, entertaining.”
We make plans. Saturday night. Some restaurant Margot loves. Both families meeting officially to celebrate our marriage.
When I hang up, Holden is watching me with an expression I can’t quite read.
“What?” I ask.
“Just thinking about how far we’ve come. Five weeks ago, we woke up married and panicking. Now we’re planning celebration dinners with both families.”
“It’s been a weird five weeks.”
“The best weird five weeks of my life.”
He kisses me. Soft and sweet.
My phone buzzes again. I groan. “I thought the notifications would slow down.”
But when I look, it’s not Instagram.
It’s a DM from someone I don’t recognize. A woman named Candace.
Candace: “Hi Tessa! I saw your post about marrying Holden Reid. I’m a wedding blogger and I’d love to feature your story! Would you and Holden be interested in an interview? We have 2 million followers and love unique love stories!”
I show Holden.
“Two million followers?” His eyes widen. “That’s… a lot of people.”
“Should we do it?”
“Do you want to?”
I think about it. Our story is unique. Ridiculous. But also kind of perfect in its own chaotic way.
“Maybe? It could be good publicity. For both of us. Your agency, my event planning business.”
“True. And it’s not like we’re hiding anymore.”
I respond to Candace: “We’d be interested! Can you email me details?”
She responds immediately with her email and a request for our contact information.
“We’re going to be in a wedding blog,” I say, slightly dazed.
“Our Vegas Elvis wedding is going to be internet famous.”
“This is surreal.”
“This is our life now.”
He’s right.
This is our life. Public. No more secrets. No more hiding.
It’s terrifying and exhilarating and absolutely insane.
But looking at Holden—at my husband, my partner, my person—I know it’s worth it.
Every chaotic, ridiculous, beautiful moment.
“I love you,” I say suddenly.
He grins. “I know. You married me. Twice.”
“Technically once so far.”
“Give it two weeks. We’ll make it twice.”
Two weeks until our real wedding. Our public ceremony. The one everyone gets to see.
I can’t wait.
My phone buzzes. Another comment on Instagram.
This one is from Noah: “My best friend married my sister. Still weird. But also kind of perfect. Welcome to the family, Holden. Officially. 💙”
I show Holden.
His eyes get suspiciously shiny. “Your brother is sentimental.”
“Don’t let him know you noticed. He’ll deny it.”
“Noted.”
We spend the rest of the day basking in the chaos. Messages and comments and well-wishes from people we haven’t talked to in years.
Our wedding announcement has 50,000 likes by evening.
The interview request from Candace turns into three more interview requests from different outlets.
My event planning website crashes from traffic.
Holden’s agency gets five new client inquiries.
“We broke the internet,” I say, staring at my laptop.
“We kind of did.”
“Is this normal?”
“For an accidental Vegas wedding between a sports agent and an event planner? Probably not.”
“We’re a novelty.”
“We’re a love story. People eat that up.”
He’s right. Reading through the comments, most people aren’t focused on the chaos or the mistakes. They’re focused on the ending. On us choosing each other. On love winning despite the odds.
“We should write a book,” I joke.
“‘How to Accidentally Marry Your Brother’s Best Friend: A Guide.'”
“Chapter one: Get drunk in Vegas.”
“Chapter two: Make terrible decisions.”
“Chapter three: Fall in love anyway.”
We’re both laughing now.
This is ridiculous. All of it. The Vegas wedding, the tax fraud scare, the secret keeping, the public announcement.
But it’s ours.
Our story.
And I wouldn’t change a single chapter.
END OF CHAPTER 16
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