Of course, the music was still playing, the lights still twinkling, the laughter still floating across the patio. People were posing for selfies near the flower wall. The caterers were laying out the next round of appetizers.
And then the music stopped.
Not a fade out, not a transition, just cut.
People turned, heads swiveled toward the DJ booth where a man in a black shirt was holding up his phone, confused.
A few seconds later, a woman in a headset rushed out from the back office, followed by a man in a suit. The vineyard manager, Amelia’s assistant, I guessed.
They were scanning the crowd, looking for someone.
Looking for me.
I stood up slowly, drink still in hand, and took a small sip, letting the silence settle over the room like dust.
One by one, conversations died.
Lauren came out of the tent, her dress swishing behind her, frowning as she looked around.
My uncle was by the bar already red in the face, muttering to the bartender.
I didn’t move.
I didn’t wave them over.
I just waited because that was the moment everything shifted.
And that’s when the real party started.
The first person to actually notice me standing alone near the edge of the patio was Uncle Rick, the fun uncle. The one who always made himself the center of attention, but disappeared the second real work needed doing.
He made a beline toward me, trying to keep his smile casual, even though the corners of his mouth were twitching with panic.
“Hey, Andy,” he said, resting a hand on my shoulder like we were old pals. “There seems to be a little, uh, mix up with the DJ. Any idea what’s going on?”
I sipped my drink, letting the silence hang just long enough to make him sweat.
“Not sure,” I said evenly. “You might want to check with the venue manager. She should be around here somewhere.”
I could see the confusion on his face, the flicker of suspicion.
But before he could ask another question, Amelia appeared.
She walked straight up to me, her voice low but firm.
“Hi, Andrew. I just got your email. Are you certain you want to proceed with the cancellation? Because if so, we need to start clearing the space within the next 15 minutes. Per contract terms.”
Rick’s face pad.
“Wait, what?”
I didn’t answer. I just looked at Amelia.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
A ripple of tension passed through the group that had started gathering around us.
People were whispering now, eyes darting between me, Amelia, and Rick like we were performing some unscripted drama.
Rick held up his hands.
“Hold on. This has to be a misunderstanding. Why would you cancel? This is Lauren’s engagement party.”
Amelia looked from him to me.