Like all great modern romances, ours began with a single message on Bumble. Darby, in true competitive spirit, slid into Will’s inbox with:

"What sport do you want to lose at first: basketball, pickleball, or golf?"

Will, never one to back down from a challenge (or a witty opening line), wasted no time. Less than a day later, he had already planned our first date: pickleball.

Now, let’s talk about that game. Will claims he won. Darby claims they never actually played a real game. The only indisputable fact? At one point, Darby managed to send a pickleball soaring over a 20-foot fence.

Unfortunately, that particular pickleball set was borrowed from Will’s parents, which led to the moment Will realized exactly what he was getting into. Without hesitation, he heroically crawled underneath a food truck to retrieve the rogue ball, emerging covered in grease. Chivalry isn't dead, folks—it's just a little messier than expected.

But the real magic of the night wasn’t the (alleged) pickleball match or the daring rescue mission—it was the talking. For over an hour, we rallied back and forth, not just with the ball but with stories, jokes, and the realization that we had countless mutual connections in our small hometown of Austin, TX. Then, we sat at a picnic table beside the court and talked for three more hours. No surface-level small talk—just the real, deep stuff. Faith, family, values, dreams. By the time the night ended, we both knew: this was it.

How sure were we? Well, the next morning, Darby casually texted her mom:

"By the way, I had a date last night. He is my future husband."

And before Darby even went to bed that night, Will had already asked when she was free for their next date.

From that moment on, we were inseparable. Texts, calls, laughter, and five conversations happening at once because we just had to know every single thing about each other.

And now, here we are—getting ready to say "I do" and start our greatest adventure yet.

So, whether you’re here to celebrate, support, or just witness Darby inevitably talking trash at something she may or may not be good at—thank you for being part of our love story.