Sienna's POV“Becca, if we move the floral budget another five percent, we can upgrade the lighting without touching the catering,” I said, tapping my pen against the hotel conference table scattered with presentation boards and spreadsheets. Becca leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples but smiling. “You’re in your element, aren’t you? I haven’t seen you this focused since… well, ever.” Boston was nothing like the glamorous trips I used to daydream about as a struggling event planner. No sightseeing, no leisurely walks along the harbor. Instead, Becca and I spent every waking hour in this small hotel conference room, perfecting slides, adjusting budgets, and rehearsing our pitch until the words felt etched into my bones. Yet despite the pressure and the ache in my lower back from hours in the same chair, I felt alive again. This was the world I understood—the world my mother had taught me to love long before Ethan Hayes and his complicated life had upended everything. Here,
Last Updated : 2026-07-09
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