Part 1: The Plus-One
My ex-husband’s wedding invitation came by text.
“Come to my wedding with Claire and bring the girls. Your invitation includes a +1, but we both know you don’t have anyone.”
Very Max.
We had been married almost thirteen years and had two daughters, ten and three, when he decided I no longer looked the way he wanted.
“You don’t look like you used to,” he told me.
Then I found out about Claire. His personal trainer.
When I confronted him about the affair, Max didn’t apologize.
“What did you expect? Men are visual. Claire is perfect.”
I stood in our bedroom while he packed.
“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?”
After that, I looked constantly. At my stomach. My arms. My profile in the glass. I kept changing outfits because I could still hear Max telling me what I ought to hide.
Then he announced he was marrying Claire.
I could have skipped the wedding, but our daughters were going, and my oldest kept asking whether I’d be there. So I said yes. Then I looked at the +1.
I wanted Max to see that I was fine. More than fine.
That’s how I ended up beside my coworker Edward’s desk on Monday morning.
“I need a favor.”
He looked up.
“That sounds expensive.”
“Come to my ex-husband’s wedding with me.”
“As emotional support?”
“As my boyfriend.”
He stared.
“Pretend boyfriend,” I added.
“Oh. Much healthier.”
Edward had become one of my closest friends during the divorce. He listened without trying to fix everything, brought me coffee the day the divorce became final, and once helped me rewrite an angry message to Max before I sent something I’d regret. 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 watching me.
“Veronica.”
I sighed.
“I want Max to see me with you and wonder if leaving me was a mistake.”
Edward leaned back. For some reason, that answer seemed to bother him. Then he nodded.
“Okay.”
I should have wondered why he agreed so easily. Instead, I spent the week fretting over my dress. Max had trained me well. I rejected dress after dress, hearing his old remarks about my waist and arms. Eventually, I chose the one I had liked before I started imagining what he’d think.
Edward picked me up on Saturday. A large cardboard box sat in the back of his car.
“What’s that?”
“Donation stuff.”
I didn’t ask again.
The wedding was enormous. Flowers everywhere, white tablecloths, champagne, more chandeliers than any room needed. Our daughters were thrilled.
Then Max saw us. His eyes went from me to Edward and back again. For one satisfying second, he had nothing to say.
Claire stood beside him in a fitted white gown. She looked beautiful. I hated that noticing still hurt.
Max came over.
“So this is your plus-one?”
“Max, this is Edward.”
Edward offered his hand.
“Congratulations.”
Max looked him up and down. Then he laughed. Not politely. Really laughed. Several nearby guests turned to look.
“What’s funny?” I asked.
“Him?” Max glanced around as though everyone should be in on the joke. “Your boyfriend?”
Claire touched his arm.
“Max.”
He ignored her.
“I don’t believe it. No one would date you. Especially someone like him.”
My face burned. Then he flashed the same grin he always used when he wanted cruelty to pass as humor.
“What did you do, pay him to come?”
For half a second, I was back in our bedroom, watching him pack. I wanted to vanish.
Edward didn’t raise his voice. Instead, he smiled.
“Actually, Max, I brought you a wedding gift.”
Max looked surprised.
“For me?”
“Especially for you.”
Edward turned to me.
“Give me five minutes.”
Then he walked outside.
