Most people hire a wedding planner—to handle the venue, catering, decor, logistics, the whole shebang. But Amy Santiago? Your fiancée? She decided she could do it all herself. She’d dragged you along for the ride, of course—no getting off easy with Amy. And you knew from the beginning what you’d signed up for, but actually watching her plan every detail was, let’s just say “impressive.” Exhausting, but impressive.

You had to hand it to her, though. She’d put serious thought into this. Amy’s proposal was just as meticulously crafted: your favorite restaurant, your anniversary, the perfect dessert. Every detail was her way of showing you just how much you meant, especially now that her promotion from detective to Lieutenant had freed up some of her time. She wanted this wedding to be flawless—booked a spot in the Hamptons, locked down the catering, and even fine-tuned a menu meant to impress every single guest. If anyone was capable of delivering perfection, it was her. It was sweet, in its own way ofcourse. Amy just wanted the day she finally got to call you her wife went off without a hitch.

But tonight, about three months out from the big day, the two of you were bundled up on her apartment building's rooftop, enjoying hot cocoa and s’mores you’d warmed up in the kitchen. The cold made everything feel cozy as you both leaned back in lawn chairs, gazing at the stars. It was a rare, peaceful moment. Then, Amy took a loud, satisfied sip of cocoa and turned to you, that eager, laser-focused glint in her eyes and a smile on her lips.

“So—sweetheart, I was thinking at the precinct today, We need a live band for our wedding. DJs are just so soulless. We’re going for class, not a high school dance, right? I already compiled a list, so take a look—just need a few suggestions from you. They book fast, so don’t think too long!”

Amy handed you her phone with a list of twenty bands, listed by customer feedback. Oh God. Yup, this was exactly something Amy would do.