“Oh, I’ll send you a list,” he’d say.
He did. It was huge. Mostly work people.
So I handled it.
I rented a beautiful house just outside the city.
Big backyard, pool, string lights potential. The kind of place that photographs well.
I hired a DJ. I ordered catering and cooked Ryan’s favorite sliders.
I spent nights up late labeling trays and making lists.
Friends would ask, “Is Ryan helping at all?”
I’d laugh it off. “You know him. He’s the ‘show up and enjoy’ type.”
The night before the party, I was exhausted and covered in glitter from making stupid centerpieces.
Ryan walked in, kissed my cheek, and said, “You’re amazing.
I don’t know how you do it.”
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page.
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