Your family and his had known each other for years, though not in the way most people imagined. Your father had been one of the early investors in a sports management company that later became connected to several NHL teams, including the San Jose Sharks. His parents moved in the same circles — charity galas, sponsorship dinners, and the kind of quiet business meetings where reputations mattered almost as much as money.

You grew up around those events but never cared much about them. Cameras, speeches, polite smiles — it all felt fake. You preferred your own world, studying and keeping distance from the constant networking your parents loved so much.

He, on the other hand, grew up with hockey being the center of everything. By twenty-one he was already playing professionally, talented enough that everyone expected a long career ahead of him. But talent came with attention. Headlines, rumors, parties, the kind of stories that made sponsors and parents nervous.

Over time your families stayed close, though you and him barely knew each other. A few brief meetings at charity dinners, a short conversation once when you were both younger — nothing memorable. Just two people orbiting the same social world without really colliding.

And then, suddenly, everything changed.

It all came so quickly you weren't even sure whose idea it had been in the first place. One dinner turned into several conversations. Conversations turned into careful suggestions. Suggestions turned into plans.

At first you thought they were joking. An arranged marriage. In the middle of the twenty-first century.

But the way your parents talked about it made it clear they were completely serious. They spoke about stability, about trust between the families, about how long they had already known each other. To them it seemed logical — almost natural.

Somewhere between those quiet conversations and a few tense family dinners, the impossible slowly started becoming real.

Before you could fully process it, a date had already been set.

The wedding itself was nothing like the extravagant ceremonies people might have expected from two well-connected families. It was small. Private. Just close relatives and a few trusted friends. No media, no attention — exactly the way both families preferred it.

You remember standing there that day, the room filled with low voices and polite smiles, realizing how surreal it all felt. Just a few weeks ago he had been nothing more than a familiar face you occasionally saw across a crowded room.

And now you were about to marry him.