A LOVE THAT KILLS

n the mornings here. The early sun spills into my apartment, bathing everything i

the small cobblestone streets below, where the s

ore. In a city that moves at its own pace, it's easy to

are soft against my skin, a mix of linen and cotton-simple but luxurious enough to remind

not drowning in the walls but also not so large that it feels empty. It's an ol

lue here and there. There's an antique wooden wardrobe I found in a small shop on one

gentle hum of life outside the windows, the chirp of birds, the occasional distant chatter of

the warm, deep wood of the cabinets. There's a small island where I often sit with my coffee i

ine is my favorite piece of equipment here. It's not fancy-just an es

warmth spreading through me, and I feel the

ight, packed with calls and emails from couples who are t

ough the new messages that have arrived overnight. Most are inquiries from potential clients, som

day: one for a wedding in Tuscany and another for a coup

chedules, and organizing timelines. I like the sense of control that comes with this. In a world where I've

details together, orchestrating ev

married in a villa near the coast. She wants everything to be perfect-an extravagant, fairy-tale

stions, offer her a few venues that might work, and promise to send over a proposal by the end of the week. The conve

placed a bookshelf filled with wedding planning guides, design books, and journals. I pull out one of the journals I've kept over th

me stay grounded. In a way, planning weddings for others is like living vicariousl

d of place where they know my name and always throw in a few extra olives for free. After a few bites, I dive back

gs I've worked on, getting ready for the presentation. It's always n

y reputation on the line with each new couple I meet. They'

gh my ideas for their big day. They want something romantic and

ting to know them, hearing their stories, and translating that into a vision for their wedding. By the time th

emails to respond to, a couple more calls to make. The work of a wedding planner is never really done, but I've

p and step outside onto the balcony, taking in the view. The streets are quiet now, the rush of the da

myself here, built a new future in a city that once felt so foreign, and I'm proud