Two servers in crisp black aprons were already mixing cocktails.

Jason’s jaw dropped. He looked at me, standing quietly in the living room in a modest black dress, my white cast resting in a dark sling.

He masked the shock fast, turning to his boss with a booming laugh. “Well, what can I say? I run a tight ship. My wife knows how to throw a party for her man.”

He strode over and wrapped a heavy arm around my uninjured shoulder, pulling me into a performative embrace. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down, babe. You always pull through.”

I smiled sweetly, forcing down the bile in my throat. “I promised I’d take care of it, Jason.”

Within the hour the house was packed — colleagues, neighbors, extended family, their laughter bouncing off the polished walls, everyone indulging in the catering, oblivious to the countdown running under it all.