Wedding Planner
"Wedding coordinator Zara creates dream celebrations. When florist Aleksei decorates her events, arrangements become more than professional. 'Al farah yunshur al hubb' (الفرح ينشر الحب) - Joy spreads love."
"These arrangements are wrong."
Aleksei stepped back. "They're exactly as specified."
"Specified by someone who doesn't understand Saudi weddings." Zara rearranged peonies. "Watch me."
She planned Riyadh's most lavish celebrations—traditional culture with modern luxury. He supplied flowers from around the world.
"Al farah yunshur al hubb," she explained. Joy spreads love.
"Joy needs proper petals."
"Then learn our petals."
"Teach me," Aleksei requested.
"Flowers or culture?"
"Both." He met her eyes. "Everything that makes your weddings unforgettable."
Weeks of collaboration revealed shared perfectionism—both demanding impossible beauty.
"You're different," she admitted.
"Different from vendors who deliver and leave?"
"Different from anyone who sees weddings like I do." She stepped closer. "As love made visible."
"Why weddings?" he asked.
"Because my parents' was arranged and loveless." Her voice softened. "I wanted to create what they didn't have."
"That's healing."
"That's purpose."
The first kiss happened surrounded by flowers—wedding decorations for someone else's happiness.
"Ironic," Zara breathed. "Planning everyone's romance but my own."
"Let's change that."
They made love in the flower storage, blooms their witness.
"You're beautiful," Aleksei murmured.
"I'm stressed and deadline-driven."
"You're perfect."
His florist's hands traced paths down her body—gentle, skilled. When he reached her center, Zara gripped refrigerator shelving.
"Aktar," she gasped. "Aleksei, aktar!"
"Arranging carefully."
She came surrounded by flowers, pleasure blooming. Aleksei rose, grinning.
"Beautiful centerpiece."
"Don't."
"Sorry."
He filled her with a groan, both moving in rhythm celebrations demanded.
"Ya tebya lyublyu," he gasped.
"Translation?"
"I love you."
They moved together like perfect arrangement—complementary, harmonious.
"I'm close," he warned.
"Sawa." She held him tight. "Ma'aya."
They crested together, pleasure celebration-worthy. Aleksei held her as flowers wilted forgotten.
"Partners," he proposed.
"Business?"
"Everything." He kissed her forehead. "Including our own wedding."
Their celebrations became legendary—her planning, his arrangements, their combined vision.
"How do you create such beauty?" brides asked.
"Love," Zara answered.
Their own wedding was their finest work—every detail perfect, every flower meaningful.
"Al farah yunshur al hubb," Zara repeated.
"Including ours," Aleksei added, "finally."
Some celebrations, they'd learned, weren't just planned. They were lived—by hearts that spent years creating joy for others before finding their own.