I arrived at my sister-in-law’s wedding rehearsal thinking I’d sit with family. But my place card shamelessly read “event coordinator.” Patricia smirked and said I was “so good at organizing things.” Eight chairs, eight names, and I was left by the kitchen holding a clipboard. Marcus whispered, “just go with it.” I dropped my ring into a champagne glass. Then the club manager walked up and said one sentence that froze the whole room…
By the time I realized there was no chair for me, the terrace at Sterling Heights was already humming with…