Abbey and Kyle's wedding was like someone cracked open the old yearbook and found pages still being written. Or maybe it was never really closed in the first place. Everyone's a little older, maybe wiser, but still showing up ready to celebrate like it was prom night—for life.
Abbey and Kyle threw one hell of a wedding—a 200-person collision of nostalgia, Midwest warmth, and enough shared history to spark a hundred inside jokes before anyone even picked up their first drink. It wasn’t just vows and flower petals. This was a reunion. A merging of timelines. And their wedding, packed with old teammates, neighbors, and ride-or-dies from every stage of life, felt like a decade-long thank-you note wrapped in candlelight and champagne.
Their wedding landed right at summer's edge. That stretch of summer where the sun stays up like it’s got nowhere better to be—the kind of night that feels like it could go on forever. And honestly, you kind of hope it does. Kyle got ready in their new home—the kind of place where the walls still feel like possibility, not routine. Abbey, on the other hand, prepped in her childhood home in Tinley Park—a place layered with memory—flashing back from every corner and intersection
The ceremony was held at St. Julie's Church in Tinley Park. Then came the reception: Morton Arboretum, Lisle. A venue that walks the line between nature reserve and fairytale garden. The Firefly Pavilion buzzed with late-summer energy—maybe it was the cicadas, maybe it was the people, but the whole place felt alive.
This one was personal from the jump. From the first proposal prep call to the last battery swap on the wedding dance floor, it all felt nostalgic. I’ve known Kyle since chlorine and swim caps ruled our daily routines. We met on the same swim team when we were probably 8-10 years old. Then all the way up to highschool, waking up for morning practices, swimming endless laps training to break local high school swim records and make it to the junior olympics. So yeah, capturing him suit up for his wedding? Surreal.
At the end of a relatively smooth day, Kyle raised his glass and delivered one last toast—"Raise your glasses one last time, to the Fitzgeralds!"
Then, without warning, the wind cut through the pavilion like a late arrival to the party—loud, uninvited, but somehow right on time. A glass candle holder hit the ground—loud, sharp, and perfectly timed. It was a crack in the script, a reminder that life doesn’t care how curated your timeline is. Life barges in anyway—loud, unscheduled, and usually holding a drink.
Unfiltered, unplanned, and absolute cinema.
“Relive Abbey & Kyle’s day in motion—watch their full highlight below.”
Want to see more? Browse their full photo gallery [here].
The Proposal
February. 8PM. Lake Katherine. Cold enough to penetrate your soul, no matter how many layers you’ve got on, but Kyle was going for the soul anyway—the cold didn’t register. He was locked in on a moment that meant everything, and the chill in the air didn’t stand a chance. A moment built to last. A memory that would set the tone for everything ahead.
Kyle got down on one knee at the same spot where, years earlier, he asked Abbey to be his girlfriend. We helped him rig it like a covert op: hidden cameras, warm bulb lighting, a lot of nervous energy. It was honest—rough around the edges in the best way. Nothing staged, nothing smoothed over. Just one of those moments that cuts through the noise and makes everything feel clear—like, yeah, this is exactly where you’re supposed to be.
The Engagement Session
Flash-forward to summer. We swapped snow for skyline. Abbey and Kyle wandered through Lincoln Park and the Wrigley Building, the city buzzing around them. It was classic Chicago: humid, loud, a little chaotic. Their love looked right at home in it. The contrast between their winter proposal and these summer shots gave the full picture: they’re not just one kind of couple. They’re all seasons.
Shoutout to Sammi Sumpter @capturedbysammi for leading the photography
coverage for Kyle and Abbey's Big Day!
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