In which the rookie Ben Gal falls for Cincinnati's number one quarterback.
Now that football season is upon us I thought it would be fun to write a little Joe Burrow story.
Started: October 12, 2024
Finished: May 18, 2025
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Alessandra had always dreamed about trying on wedding dresses. But when the day actually arrived—three weeks after Joe's proposal—she was overwhelmed in the best way.
She stood in front of a full-length mirror in a private bridal suite, her hands trembling slightly as she adjusted the silk robe tied around her waist. Her engagement ring glittered under the soft chandelier light.
"Deep breaths," Chloe said, her voice warm and gentle from behind her. "This is supposed to be fun."
Harlow peeked around the corner holding two garment bags, eyes wide with excitement. "Fun? This is sacred. This is fashion history in the making."
Alessandra laughed. "Okay, okay. I'm breathing. Barely. But I'm breathing."
They were at one of Cincinnati's most exclusive bridal salons—booked entirely by Harlow, who pulled every string imaginable to get a private appointment. She even managed to have champagne and mini cupcakes delivered to their suite.
Alessandra took a sip from her flute as the stylist, a bubbly woman named Serena, entered the room with more dresses. "I have a few options based on the notes your friends gave me—and a few wildcards, just in case."
Harlow clapped her hands together like a giddy child. "I want tears. I want gasps. I want Joe Burrow to faint when he sees her walk down the aisle."
"I don't think he's the fainting type," Alessandra said, amused.
"He will be when he sees you in this," Serena said, revealing the first dress—a sleek, off-the-shoulder silk gown with a deep, dramatic train.
As Alessandra stepped into the changing room, her nerves began to settle. The moment she slipped into the first gown and Serena zipped her up, something shifted. The weight of the fabric, the way the light danced on it—it made everything real.
When she walked out, Harlow audibly gasped, a hand flying to her chest.
"Oh my God. Stop. You look like royalty."
Chloe stood slowly, her eyes misting over. "Alé..."
Alessandra turned toward the mirror, and her breath hitched.
The dress hugged her waist, flared elegantly at the hips, and fell in a waterfall of silk behind her. She looked taller, older, like the woman she was becoming—not the unsure girl who'd walked away from Cincinnati once upon a time.