It began, as most things do, completely over Aaron's head. She was, in her mind, making obvious passes—but Aaron would not know a flirtatious moment if it connected with his jawbone at 100 miles per hour. And so for months, Lena went platonically acknowledged yet romantically unreciprocated. It was the summer of 2020, all the restaurants were closed, and dating mostly consisted of "long, meandering walks that hopefully did not culminate in murder."

In July, the stars aligned, and in a sweeping tidal wave of profound realization, Aaron took a hint. He joined Lena for dinner at her townhome, during which she made an attempt at crafting fajitas. The fajitas were more of a deconstructed kebab presented in a loose pile, but at that point, Lena could have served a can of Chef Boyardee and Aaron would have awarded it a Michelin star. He was outkicking his coverage in real time and he knew it. Not even the prospect of two auxiliary toddlers could scare him away. He was in deep.

Not quite five years later, Aaron is still riding out that energy, miraculously pulling off the single greatest romantic heist the world has ever seen. Families have blended, homes have been bought & sold, jobs have come & gone, and in November of 2024, a proposal was finally executed in a fashion that Aaron would describe as "perfectly timed" while Lena would herald it as "approximately four years overdue."

On August 17th, we're getting the government involved and making this thing official. Rest assured, there will be no kebabs served at this wedding. We hope you'll join us at The Van Dusen Mansion for a night of unspeakable revelry after which none of us will be able to make direct eye contact for a good 3-5 weeks. Debauchery meets charming Twin Cities architecture in the event of the decade, for our love knows no shame and strikingly few boundaries.