I used to think pre-wedding photoshoots were overhyped.
Now I understand why people couldn’t stop smiling through them.
The morning sun in Los Angeles was warm but not harsh, the kind that kissed the skin instead of burning it. The photoshoot team had arrived early. The stylists, photographers, and assistants were all buzzing with quiet excitent. Our planner, Cecilia, was in her elent, already directing people like this was a movie set.
Jace and I were sitting side by side while the stylist fixed my hair into soft curls. I wore a flowy white dress with thin straps that shimred whenever I moved. Jace, of course, looked like he’d just stepped out of a magazine with a crisp white shirt rolled at the sleeves, black slacks that fit too well, and that effortless confidence that always gave him away.
"You’re staring," he said without looking at .
"I’m allowed to," I replied the sa way he usually did.
He chuckled lowly. "You look beautiful, mia cara."
I blushed. "You haven’t even seen the full look yet."
"I don’t have to." He tilted his head slightly, eting my eyes through the mirror. "I could recognize you even in a crowd of a thousand."
I rolled my eyes, pretending not to lt. "You sound like you rehearsed that line."
"Maybe I did." He smirked.
The stylist laughed softly behind . "You two are adorable."
I smiled shyly, trying to hide my flustered grin.
The location Cecilia picked was perfect. It was an open field just outside the city, where wildflowers grew in quiet patches and the wind carried a soft hum through the grass. There was a small lake nearby, glimring under the sunlight, and a swing tied to an old oak tree that looked straight out of a fairytale.
When we arrived, I actually gasped. "Oh, wow..."
Jace glanced around, unimpressed. "You like this?"
"Yes! It’s simple and beautiful," I said, my eyes sweeping over the golden grass swaying in the breeze. "You know what this place feels like?"
"What?"
"Peace." I sighed.
He smiled faintly. "Then I like it too."
The photographer clapped her hands once. "Alright, lovebirds, let’s start!"
Our first few shots were easy, hand in hand, walking down the little dirt path while laughing at nothing. Every now and then, the photographer would say, "Closer," and Jace would take that as an excuse to pull against him until I was laughing for real.
"Jace," I whispered between laughs, "you’re going to ruin the photos if you keep making laugh."
"Then they’ll look real," he murmured, brushing his thumb across my cheek. He of course took the chance to kiss , he never missed the opportunity.
The next setup was at the swing under the oak. I sat first, my dress pooling around , while Jace stood behind, pushing lightly. The wind lifted my hair, sunlight catching on it like tiny sparks.
"Look at her like you can’t breathe without her," the photographer said.
Jace didn’t even blink. "I don’t need to act that."
My heart did that quiet flutter thing again.
After a while, he joined on the swing. We barely fit, which made us both laugh, but he pulled close anyway, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. "You sll like vanilla and sugar," he murmured against my hair.
I smiled softly. "Occupational hazard of owning bakeries."
He laughed, low and warm, and I swear the cara clicked at the perfect mont.
Later, we moved closer to the lake. The reflection on the water was breathtaking while the sky painted in shades of soft blue and gold. Jace stood behind , his arms wrapped around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder as we looked out at the horizon.
"This feels surreal," I whispered.
He kissed the side of my neck. "That’s because it’s real."
The photographer circled us quietly, capturing every mont. "Perfect," she said softly. "Just keep holding her like that."
Jace’s arms tightened around . "That’s the easy part," he said under his breath.
When we finally took a break, we sat on the picnic blanket they’d spread out for us. I kicked off my heels, sighing in relief. Jace handed a bottle of water, then leaned back on his elbows, watching .
"What?" I asked, smiling.
"Just wondering what I did right," he said quietly.
I blinked. "What do you an?"
"To deserve this. You. All of it." His gaze softened. "Four years ago, I was half-mad, Mira. I didn’t think I’d ever know what happiness felt like again. And now..." He trailed off, his eyes glinting in the light. "Now it’s you."
I felt my throat tighten as I looked at him. The words weren’t loud or dramatic, but they landed sowhere deep.
"I think we saved each other," I said softly.
He smiled. "Then I guess I owe you everything."
I reached for his hand, lacing our fingers together. "You already gave everything."
The photographer called us again for one last set, barefoot by the water, holding hands as the waves lapped gently at our feet. The sun was setting now, painting the world in amber.
At one point, Jace turned to , cupped my face, and kissed slowly and it was so full of aning. The photographer gasped softly. "That’s it. That’s the shot."
When we finally pulled apart, breathless, I whispered, "You know you’re going to make half the internet jealous when these photos drop, right?"
He grinned. "Good. Maybe then people will stop doubting happy endings."
I laughed and pressed my forehead against his.
The cara clicked again, capturing that quiet, unscripted mont with two people standing at the edge of the water, wrapped in each other, the world fading around them.
And as the sun dipped below the horizon, I realized sothing simple but true:
Love wasn’t the fire or the chaos anymore.
It was this soft laughter, golden light, and the man who never stopped looking at like I was his forever.
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