Like all great modern love stories, ours began with a swipe... and a bit of hope. Klara made the first move (shoutout to Bumble for giving her the power), and Andrew replied with a message that may or may not have involved a dad joke. The conversation flowed, the banter was strong, and we decided to meet in person — brave, right? Our first date was at the movies. Romantic? Yes. Smooth? Not exactly. Klara, in true rom-com fashion, managed to trip while walking up the stairs. Andrew pretended not to panic. We both laughed it off, grabbed popcorn, and settled in to watch a movie we barely remember — because we were way too focused on each other. From that night on, we were pretty much inseparable. Every weekend, we made time to hang out — whether it was trying new food spots, going on mini adventures, or just doing absolutely nothing together (the best kind of plans). We even became those people who work out together three times a week. And because love is about support — and a little tire smoke — Klara hasn’t missed a single one of Andrew’s drifting events. Rain or shine, she’s there, cheering him on (and pretending she understands what's happening). Now, we’re getting married! So yes, dating apps can lead to real love — even if your love story starts with a stair mishap, gym dates, and the smell of burning rubber. #HittingTheDriftWithTheMartinez

If you ever needed something built, fixed, rewired, or duct-taped into working order, my dad, Jacob Hernandez, was your guy. He was a true jack of all trades—with a tool for every job and a witty comeback for every situation. Whether it was a squeaky door or a broken heart, he somehow knew how to fix both. He would’ve had plenty to say about this wedding—probably suggesting zip ties over ribbon, offering to cook the reception dinner himself, or casually reminding us that he “could’ve built that dance floor in a weekend.” I can hear him now, side-eyeing the flower bill, cracking jokes, and pretending to grumble while secretly loving every second of it. But more than anything, my dad would’ve been out on that dance floor, celebrating right alongside us—laughing, spinning me around, and dancing all night long like only he could. He wasn’t just handy—he was hilarious, strong, wise, and full of heart. And no matter what, he never ended a conversation without saying, “Love you more.” No matter how much love I gave him, he always made sure I knew he gave more. Though he’s not physically with us today, I carry him with me in every step I take. I know he's watching, probably tapping his foot to the beat, wearing his favorite hat, and making sure the lights are hung straight. Love you more, Dad. Forever and always.