Our story begins right where we're tying the knot — Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina. Twelve years ago, on the 4th of July, fate (and a skateboard) brought us together. Rob was 23, back in town visiting friends after graduating from UNCW. I was 19, spending the holiday weekend with my best friend, Emily. As we drove over the Banks Channel Bridge, Rob came flying past our car on a skateboard — a sweaty, sun-soaked blur. Our friend who was driving knew Rob from highschool and shouted out to him. Rob turned around, we yelled for him to hop in, and just like that, Rob climbed into the backseat with Emily and me. Emily was mildly horrified; I, on the other hand, was already intrigued. For the rest of the weekend, we were by each other's side. We spent the day at the beach, explored town, and somehow Rob got me into my very first 21-and-over bar just by telling the bouncer, “She’s with me.” That night, we jumped off a bridge, swam in glowing bioluminescence, and cruised around town — me on a bike, Rob on his skateboard. We met friends, danced, laughed, and let spontaneity take the lead. It was a whirlwind, the kind of night you never expect but always remember — filled with adventure, connection, and the start of something real. And now, all these years later, we're coming full circle — getting married in the very place our story began. The beach town where we found each other is now the place where we’ll say I do.