Like many great love stories, ours begins… at a crowded bar the night before Thanksgiving. But let's rewind. We both grew up in the same hometown, but with a year between us in school and different friend groups, we somehow never crossed paths—until one fateful evening, years later. After a stint in California perfecting his tan (and allegedly working), Greg made his triumphant return to our hometown. Shortly after, he found himself at a wedding, seated next to the bride’s best friend Dayna. One or two drinks in, he may or may not have enthusiastically mentioned that he was single. Dayna, sensing a golden opportunity replied: “Oh, I have someone for you.” Fast forward a few days: Dayna sits down at dinner with Erin and says, “I met your future husband.” No pressure, right? A plan was quickly hatched. The setting? Thanksgiving Eve—a hometown reunion kind of night. The strategy? Attend the same bar and casually “bump into” each other. What the groom didn’t know was that another friend of the bride's (Shelby) had also taken it upon herself to orchestrate the meet, personally engineering the first conversation between them. And just like that, sparks flew. (Okay, maybe it was more like a warm, flirty flicker at first, but the spark caught fire quickly.) To this day, both friends still argue over who gets credit for making the match. Honestly, we’re just grateful to all parties involved—because that night, amidst hometown chaos and holiday cheer, something truly special began.