Part 2: The Gift
Max watched him go and smirked.
“I knew it.”
Five minutes later, Edward came back carrying the cardboard box from his car. He set it on an empty table.
“For the groom.”
Max laughed.
“You were serious.”
“Open it.”
By then, several guests were watching. Max opened the box, and his smile vanished. Inside lay an enormous pair of trousers. He pulled them out.
“What is this?”
“Mine,” Edward said.
Max looked from Edward to the trousers.
“You wore these?”
“Yes.” Edward took them back. “I used to be much heavier.”
Max frowned.
“So?”
Edward looked at me.
“Veronica knows part of this story.”
I stared at him.
“I do?”
“About three years ago, before we became friends, someone brought birthday cake into the office.”
Then I remembered. Edward had been standing near the break room. Someone offered him cake, and he refused.
“People who look like me don’t need cake.”
I’d been having a terrible week with Max. Without thinking, I had replied, “Funny. My husband talks about me like that.” Edward’s smile disappeared. Then I told him, “I hate hearing it from him. I don’t like hearing it from you either.” At the time, I took my cake and walked away. I had almost forgotten the whole exchange.
Edward hadn’t.
“That stayed with me,” he said.
Max looked impatient.
“What exactly is the point?”
Edward folded the trousers over one arm.
“The point is Veronica never told me what I should weigh. She never told me I’d be more valuable if my body changed. She just made me realize I’d started speaking to myself the same way someone else was speaking to her.”
People were listening now.
“I stopped postponing my life until I looked acceptable. Later, I changed some habits, and my body changed too.”
Max smirked.
“So Veronica inspired you to get in shape. Great.”
“No.” Edward answered immediately. “That is exactly what you still don’t understand.”
Max’s smile faded.
“She didn’t fix me. There was nothing wrong with me that needed fixing before I deserved to enjoy my own life.”
Claire glanced at Max, then at me. Max gave an uncomfortable laugh.
“What does any of that have to do with me?”
Edward handed him the trousers.
“Because you looked at me tonight and decided my appearance proved something about Veronica.”
Max shrugged.
“It does.”
Edward held his gaze.
“Then why are you still trying so hard to prove it?”
Max stopped smiling.
A few minutes later, Edward asked me to step into the hallway. His expression had changed.
“Veronica, Max was wrong about you. But there’s something I should have said before we came.”
“What?”
