new one existed without me.
I only discovered it because the florist emailed a revised arrangement list referencing instructions from the bride’s group chat—instructions I had never seen.
I called Jessica.
No answer.
I texted, “Hey, can we talk about the floral changes?”
Four hours later, she replied, “Gail and mom are helping me now. You don’t have to worry about it.”
I stared at those words.
“You don’t have to worry about it.”
As though managing $47,000 in contracts were some hobby I had volunteered to obsess over.
