The party looked perfect, and that was the point
The next day, the cleaning crew arrived while Jason was at work.
They scrubbed every surface.
They made the house look like a magazine photo.
Jason texted me from work.
“House looks amazing. You didn’t have to go that hard.”
I replied, “I told you I’d handle it.”
The morning of the party, the catering team arrived with trays of food and set everything up with quiet efficiency.
They looked at my cast and asked if I was okay.
“I’m managing,” I said.
By evening, the house smelled warm and inviting.
Music played softly.
The living room was full of guests.
Jason walked around like he had planned every detail.
He put an arm around my uninjured shoulder and smiled for everyone.
“See?” he said. “I knew she’d pull it off.”
People asked about my arm.
Before I could answer, Jason joked.
“She’s tough,” he said. “Insisted on doing everything anyway.”
I sat down and watched.
I watched him soak up attention.
I watched guests praise the food.
I watched him accept compliments that weren’t his.
And I watched the moment approach.
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