Updated Dec 4, 2025 • ~8 min read
Three months before the wedding, everything started falling apart.
The florist called first. “I’m so sorry, but we’re going out of business. We won’t be able to fulfill your order.”
Savannah stared at her phone in shock. “You’re—what? The wedding is in three months!”
“I know, and I’m truly sorry. I can refer you to another florist, but they’ll need to start from scratch with your vision.”
After the call ended, Savannah sat in her office trying not to panic.
Three months. That was nothing in wedding planning time. How were they supposed to find a new florist, communicate all their preferences, and have everything ready?
She called Barry.
“The florist cancelled. They’re going out of business.”
“Okay. We’ll find another one. It’ll be fine.”
“It’s three months away, Barry. Three months!”
“Sav, breathe. We’ll figure it out. Let’s make some calls tonight, see who’s available.”
But that evening, things got worse.
The videographer emailed. His equipment had been stolen—he couldn’t fulfill their contract.
“Are you kidding me?” Savannah said, staring at the email. “First the florist, now this?”
“It’s just bad timing,” Barry said, trying to stay calm. “We’ll find replacements.”
“In three months? While working full-time? While trying to not lose our minds?”
“We can do this.”
“I’m starting to think we should have eloped.”
The next week brought more problems. The hotel they’d booked for guests was undergoing unexpected renovations—they couldn’t accommodate the room block after all.
“This is a disaster,” Savannah said, close to tears. “Everything’s falling apart.”
“It’s not falling apart. It’s just—challenging. We’ll get through it.”
“How are you so calm?”
“Because I’m marrying you in three months. Everything else is just details.”
“Details that are currently on fire.”
Barry pulled her close. “Look at me. We’ve moved across the country together. Survived long work weeks and arguments and building a new life from scratch. We can handle wedding planning chaos.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
They divided and conquered. Barry tackled finding a new videographer while Savannah researched florists. Their evenings became phone calls and emails and endless logistics.
“I miss when we just hung out,” Savannah said one night. They’d both been on laptops for three hours straight, dealing with wedding vendors.
“After the wedding, we’re taking a long honeymoon where we don’t plan anything.”
“Can we go there now instead?”
By August, they’d found replacements for everything. New florist who was even better than the first. Videographer whose work they actually preferred. Alternative hotel that was closer to the venue.
Crisis averted.
But the stress had taken a toll.
Savannah was exhausted. Work was demanding—major campaign launching the week before the wedding—and wedding planning consumed every spare moment.
She and Barry were bickering more. Little things that normally wouldn’t matter suddenly felt huge.
“Why didn’t you call the caterer about the dietary restrictions?” Savannah asked one evening.
“Because I was dealing with the music playlist. You said you’d handle the caterer.”
“I said I’d handle the menu. You were supposed to follow up on restrictions.”
“I can call them tomorrow.”
“It needs to be done today. The wedding is in two months!”
“Sav, it’s fine. One day isn’t going to matter.”
“Everything matters! This whole wedding needs to be perfect!”
Barry set down his laptop. “The wedding doesn’t need to be perfect. It needs to be ours. And right now, you’re so stressed about making it perfect that you’re not enjoying any of it.”
“Because I’m the one doing everything!”
“That’s not fair. I’m doing plenty.”
“You’re doing the easy stuff. I’m handling all the complicated logistics.”
“Then delegate! Ask me to do more! Don’t just get mad that I’m not reading your mind!”
They glared at each other. Their first real fight in months.
“I’m going for a walk,” Savannah said, grabbing her keys.
“Sav—”
“I just need space. I’ll be back.”
She walked to their favorite park, trying to calm down. Sat on a bench overlooking the water, breathing deeply.
Barry was right. She was stressed and taking it out on him. This wedding planning had consumed her life to the point where she’d forgotten why they were doing it in the first place.
Not for the perfect day. For the marriage. For forever.
Her phone buzzed. Barry.
Barry: I’m sorry. You’re right that you’ve been handling most of the complicated stuff. Let me take more off your plate.
Savannah: I’m sorry too. I’m stressed and being unfair. Coming home now.
When she got back, Barry had made tea and was sitting on the couch with a notepad.
“Let’s make a list,” he said. “Everything that still needs to be done. We’ll split it evenly. And anything that’s stressing you out too much, we’ll either simplify or delegate to someone else.”
They spent the next hour going through every detail. Dividing tasks. Deciding what actually mattered versus what they could let go.
“We don’t need personalized cocktail napkins,” Savannah admitted. “I was just doing it because I saw it on a wedding blog.”
“And we probably don’t need three different appetizer options. We can simplify the menu.”
“The important thing is getting married. To you. In front of our families. Everything else is just decoration.”
“Exactly.” Barry pulled her close. “I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize how overwhelmed you were.”
“I love you too. And I’m sorry I’ve been a bridezilla.”
“You’re not a bridezilla. You’re stressed. There’s a difference.”
They simplified. Cut out the unnecessary extras. Focused on what actually mattered.
And suddenly, wedding planning felt manageable again.
September arrived. One month out.
Final dress fitting—it was perfect. Tux rental for Barry—he looked stunning. Last-minute vendor confirmations all completed.
“I think we’re actually ready,” Savannah said mid-September. They were reviewing their timeline for the wedding weekend.
“We’re definitely ready. Everything’s handled.”
“How did we pull this off while both working full-time?”
“Teamwork. And probably several years off our lives from stress.”
“Worth it though.”
“Definitely worth it.”
Two weeks before the wedding, Emery called with news.
“I’m engaged! Randy proposed last night!”
“That’s amazing! Congratulations!”
“Thanks. We’re thinking spring wedding. Much simpler than what you’re doing though. I’ve watched you stress for months—I want something small and easy.”
“Smart move. Though I’m glad we’re doing the big wedding. It’s just been a lot.”
“How are you feeling? Nervous?”
“Not about marrying Barry. Maybe a little about whether everything will go smoothly.”
“It will. And even if something goes wrong, you’ll laugh about it later.”
“You’re right. This is supposed to be fun.”
“Exactly. Now go enjoy your last two weeks as a fiancée.”
The final week before the wedding was a blur. Last-minute details, packing for the trip to California, coordinating with family who were arriving early.
“This is it,” Savannah said Thursday night. They were flying out Friday, wedding on Saturday. “In a week, we’ll be married.”
“Scared?”
“Not even a little bit. You?”
“Nope. Just excited.”
They packed in comfortable silence. Bringing wedding attire, honeymoon clothes, everything they’d need for the next two weeks.
“I can’t believe we’re finally doing this,” Barry said, zipping his suitcase. “After everything—twelve years of friendship, two years of dating, all the planning and stress—we’re actually getting married.”
“Best decision I ever made was telling you I loved you at Skylar’s wedding.”
“Second best decision. First best was becoming my friend twelve years ago.”
“You stole my line.”
“It was a good line. Worth stealing.”
Savannah laughed, crossing the room to kiss him. “I love you, Barry Dale.”
“I love you too, Savannah Mitchell. Soon to be Savannah Dale.”
“Actually, I’m keeping Mitchell professionally.”
“Savannah Mitchell-Dale?”
“Just Mitchell at work, Dale in personal life. Best of both worlds.”
“Whatever makes you happy.”
“You make me happy.”
“Sappy.”
“You started it.”
They finished packing, set their alarms for an early flight, climbed into bed.
“Next time we sleep in this bed, we’ll be married,” Savannah said.
“Good weird or scary weird?”
“The best weird.” She curled against his side. “I can’t wait to marry you.”
“I can’t wait to marry you too.”
They fell asleep tangled together, one week away from their wedding.
One week away from forever.
One week away from making official what had been true for twelve years.
They were each other’s person.
Always had been.
Always would be.
And in seven days, the world would know it too.
Reader Reactions