My Ex-Husband Invited Me to His Wedding With a Plus-One—He Wasn’t Ready for Who I Brought
“Come to my wedding with Claire and bring the girls. Your invitation includes a +1, but we both know you don’t have anyone.”
That was very Max.
After nearly thirteen years of marriage and two daughters, ages ten and three, my husband had decided I no longer looked the way he wanted.
“You don’t look like you used to,” he told me.
Then I discovered Claire.
His personal trainer.
When I confronted Max about the affair, I expected an apology. Instead, he looked at me as if I were the one who had caused the problem.
“What did you expect?” he said. “Men are visual. Claire is perfect.”
I stood in our bedroom while he packed.
“So you cheated because I gained weight?”
“You used to have a slim waist, Ronnie. When was the last time you even looked at yourself in the mirror?”
That question stayed with me long after he left.
I started looking in mirrors constantly.
At my stomach.
My arms.
My reflection from the side.
I changed clothes because I could still hear Max’s voice telling me what I should hide.
Then he announced that he was marrying Claire.
I could have skipped the wedding.
But our daughters were going, and my oldest kept asking whether I would be there.
So I said yes.
Then I looked at the invitation.
Plus-one.
And for reasons I wasn’t proud of, I wanted Max to see that I was doing fine.
More than fine.
That was how I ended up standing beside my coworker Edward’s desk on a Monday morning.
“I need a favor.”
He looked up. “That sounds expensive.”
“Come to my ex-husband’s wedding with me.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“As emotional support?”
“As my boyfriend.”
He stared at me.
“Pretend boyfriend,” I added.
“Oh,” he said. “Much healthier.”
Edward had become one of my closest friends during the divorce. He listened without trying to fix everything. He brought me coffee when the divorce became final. Once, he even helped me rewrite an angry message to Max before I sent something I would have regretted.
He was also tall, athletic, and annoyingly handsome.
Exactly the kind of man Max would notice.
“Why me?” Edward asked.
I tried to joke. “Because you’re ridiculously presentable.”
He kept looking at me.
“Veronica.”
I sighed.
“I want Max to see me with you and wonder if leaving me was a mistake.”
Something about that answer seemed to bother him.
But after a moment, he nodded.
“Okay.”
I should have wondered why he agreed so easily.
Instead, I spent the rest of the week worrying about my dress.
Max had trained me to think that way.
I rejected one dress after another because I could already hear his old comments about my waist and arms.
Eventually, I chose the dress I had liked before I started imagining what he would think.
Edward picked me up on Saturday.
There was a large cardboard box in the back of his car.
“What’s that?”
“Donation stuff.”
I didn’t ask again.
The Wedding
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