Page 31 of Cocky Choices: Zoe Cocker

“Let’s focus on what makes you happy then,” I smile. “How about we plan a beautiful ceremony together?”

Zoe’s face lights up. “I love that idea. We can create a little party, endowed with all the things that matter to us. I mean, we’ll have to find out what those are, but we can do it together.”

As we dive back into planning, I can’t help but fight thinking how it will look to reporters, pushing back on a lot of her ideas even as I see it’s frustrating her.

After a while, I mutter, “Okay,” and tap a pen against her notepad. “We’re at a standstill on what food to serve, but weagree on Pop music, good for dancing. Let’s make a list of the flowers we want for the ceremony. I want to hear your favorites.”

“I love…” Zoe’s eyes flicker and she bites her lip. “I want something unique—maybe wildflowers to add a personal touch.”

“Wildflowers,” I repeat, intrigued. “Are they your favorite?”

“No.”

“I never would’ve expected wildflowers, but okay, I like it.”

“They represent hope and resilience,” she explains.

I pause writing. “Hope and resilience? Do we need that?”

“Well, we’re getting married without knowing each other, so there’s a lot of hope there that it’ll work. And we’ll need resilience to weather the storms that will come.”

“Right,” I mutter.

As I jot down the wildflowers idea, I feel the tension from earlier struggling to return, and offer, “What about including candles for a romantic touch? Imagine the soft glow as the sun sets.”

“There must be candles!” Zoe nods enthusiastically. “Yes! Candlelight will be so beautiful.”

“And what about disposable film cameras on every table?” I suggest.

“Caleb, that’s amazing!” she exclaims, green eyes sparkling. “Our friends and family could take pictures and nobody would get to see them until we have the film developed old-school style! It would make it feel so personal.”

The more we talk, the more I realize how much I treasure this collaboration. Nothing about it is boring me. I’ve always made decisions based on logic and wealth, but this is different. This is about emotions, memories, and the friendship we’re building together.

“Zoe?”

Her cat jumps up between us, and she lifts him up, nuzzling her face into his snowy fur. “Yes?”

My voice goes quieter. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“For saying yes.”

She lifts her face, “Oh!” one white thread of fur stuck to her nose.

I reach over and gently remove it. “If I ever planned to have a marriage of convenience, I’d have hoped it would be with someone as unusual as you.”

She bites her smile, and hugs her cat closer. “Thank you.”

“I have to get back for dinner with my parents. We’re wrapping this up, yes?”

“We can plan more later.”

I linger for a moment, “Hey, Zoe? Can I ask you something?”

“I’m going to be your wife. You can ask me anything,” she replies, tilting her head to the side.

“What’s your dream for this shop? What do you hope to achieve?”

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