Not mine to have

I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse, staring out at the sprawling Los Angeles skyline. The city was a sea of lights and ambition, and for the first time in a while, I let myself take it all in. At 28, I had built a name for myself. Cindy Hart Events was no longer just a business; it was an empire. Every wedding I planned was an opportunity to shape someone's dream day, and in the process, I'd created a life for myself I was proud of.

The phone buzzed on my desk, snapping me out of my thoughts. I glanced down at the screen. It was Clara Monroe, my 22-year-old assistant who had quickly become indispensable to me.

"Cindy, the Rowe team confirmed the meeting for tomorrow. Do you need anything else?" she texted.

I smiled, already knowing how it would go. The Rowe wedding was everything. Emily Rowe, the bride-to-be, came from one of the wealthiest families in Atlanta, and securing this wedding for Cindy Hart Events would solidify my place in the industry. It was my chance to prove that I could handle the most high-profile clients, no matter how demanding.

I quickly typed my response: No, everything is good. Let's just be ready for the meeting at 10 AM tomorrow.

As I hit send, I couldn't help but feel the weight of the pressure. My schedule was packed with events, meetings, and calls, all piling on top of each other. But I'd never been one to shy away from hard work. The hustle kept me going. Every new challenge was a chance to prove myself, to show that I wasn't just a woman who could plan weddings-I was someone who could turn them into works of art.

I took a deep breath and glanced at the sketches on my desk. The Rowe wedding would be unlike any other. The estate was a historic property in Ansley park , and we were transforming it into a breathtaking venue. There would be chandeliers, floral arrangements, intricate details, and a guest list that included the city's most elite. Nothing could go wrong.

Just then, my phone buzzed again. This time, it was a message from my mother: Don't forget about your father's gala this weekend. He's looking forward to seeing you.

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn't help but laugh. My parents, as successful and well-known as they were in their own right, were always involved in the social scene. They lived for those kinds of events-gatherings with other high-powered people, parties that showcased their status. For me, though, they often felt more like obligations than opportunities.

I loved my family, of course, but balancing their expectations with my own career goals hadn't been easy. I couldn't count the number of times my parents had pushed me to attend events I didn't care about, or to network with people I didn't really connect with. But they didn't understand the demands of my job. They saw me as a successful woman with everything going for me, but they didn't see the pressure behind it all.

With a sigh, I sent my mom a quick reply: I'll be there. I know, I know, you don't need to remind me.

I put the phone down and stood up, stretching my arms over my head. It had been a long day, and I hadn't even had time to think about anything other than work. But that was the way I liked it. Or at least, that was the way I had trained myself to like it. The wedding industry was a fast-paced, high-pressure world, and I thrived on it. I thrived on the adrenaline of making sure everything went perfectly, even if it meant sacrificing my personal time.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was time to head out. I had another meeting, this time with a couple who wanted to book me for their upcoming wedding. As much as I loved the thrill of planning a wedding for someone else, I sometimes wished I had the time to plan something for myself. But, of course, there was no room for that. Not when every event was a chance to elevate my business even further.

Just as I was about to leave, Clara popped her head into my office. "The accountant's on the line again," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

I waved her off. "He can wait. I have to meet a client."

"Got it," Clara said with a smile before walking away.

I grabbed my leather jacket from the back of my chair and slipped it on, smoothing out the wrinkles. I glanced once more at the stunning view of the city below. The lights of Los Angeles sparkled in the distance, like a reminder of everything I had worked for.

As I stepped out of my office, I couldn't help but feel the weight of it all. The constant demands, the expectations, the pressure to keep rising higher. But this was what I wanted, right? This was my dream.

At least, that's what I kept telling myself.

I took the elevator down to the lobby, my mind already drifting to the meeting ahead. A new client could mean a new challenge, and I thrived on challenges. Still, as much as I loved my work, there were moments when I wondered if there was something more to life than just this-just weddings, clients, and the endless cycle of events.

But then I shook off the thought. I didn't have time for uncertainty. Not now, not when everything was falling into place.

I stepped out of the building and into the warm Los Angeles evening. The city was alive with the hum of activity, and for a moment, I let myself take a breath. It wasn't much-just a brief pause before I dove back into the whirlwind of it all. But it was enough to remind me of why I kept pushing forward: to prove to myself that I could achieve anything I set my mind to.

And so, with a deep breath, I set off toward my next meeting, ready to tackle whatever the night would bring.