a blur of seating charts, playlists, and headcounts.
Because I had been pushed out of in-person planning, I handled most of the work through email.
Nobody objected.
They were happy for me to do the invisible work as long as I remained invisible too.
Two days before the wedding, I drove alone to Ren Valley Estate.
I walked past the stone ceremony patio, the converted barn where dinner would be served, and the string lights stretched between oak trees.
Teresa, the venue manager, met me at the gate and assured
