After Edward agreed to come, I should have felt better.
Instead, I spent the rest of the week worrying about what I would wear.
The invitation sat on my kitchen counter beneath a stack of papers from the girls' school.
Every time I passed it, I remembered that Max would be there.
So would Claire.
And so would people who had known us when we were still married.
Some of them would remember me as the woman who used to arrive at office parties with Max's hand resting on her back.
Some would know we'd divorced but not why.
Others might have heard his version of events.
I didn't know what anyone thought of me.
That didn't stop me from imagining it.
I pulled dresses from my closet and lined them up across the bed.
One looked too loose.
Another made me conscious of my arms.
A third seemed fine until I turned toward the mirror.
Then I noticed my stomach.
I changed again.
The girls moved in and out of the bedroom while I worked through the same cycle.
My youngest wanted to know why there were clothes everywhere.
My older daughter asked whether she could wear her favorite dress to the wedding.
I told her yes.
She was satisfied.
I wished I could be so easily reassured.
At one point, I stood in front of the mirror wearing a dress I'd liked when I first bought it.
I remembered feeling good in it.
I'd chosen it because the color suited me and because it was comfortable enough to wear all evening.
Then I imagined Max looking at me.
I pictured his eyes moving over the dress before settling on the parts of my body he'd criticized.
My hands went to my waist.
I started wondering whether I should choose something else.
I stopped.
For a few seconds, I stood completely still.
The dress hadn't changed.
Only the person I imagined judging it had entered the room.
That realization should have been enough to make me put the other clothes away.
It wasn't.
I tried another dress.
Then another.
By the time I finally settled on the one I'd liked from the beginning, I was tired of looking at myself.
I hung the rejected clothes back in the closet.
The dress I chose wasn't meant to impress anyone.
At least, that was what I told myself.
It was the one I wanted to wear before I began imagining Max's reaction.
That had to count for something.
Saturday arrived before I felt ready.
Edward came to collect me, and I checked the girls' things one more time before leaving.
He was waiting outside when I came out.
He looked at me, smiled, and told me I looked nice.
It was a simple compliment.
I tried to accept it without examining the words for hidden meaning.
"Thank you."
He opened the car door for me.
I glanced toward the back seat before getting in.
A large cardboard box sat behind us.
It was big enough that I wondered how long it had been there.
"What's in the box?"
Edward glanced over his shoulder.
"Things I'm dropping off for donation."
I assumed it was old clothing or household items.
The box looked ordinary, with worn corners and tape running across the top.
I had other things on my mind.
So I let the question go.
The drive to the venue was quieter than I'd expected.
I kept thinking about the moment Max would see us.
Edward seemed content to let me sit with my thoughts.
When we arrived, I understood why Max had chosen the place.
The wedding was elaborate.
There were flowers throughout the venue, crisp white linens on the tables, and enough sparkling lights overhead to make the room feel almost unreal.
Guests stood in small groups, talking over the music.
Glasses caught the light.
Servers moved between tables carrying trays.
Everything looked carefully arranged.
I wondered how much the wedding had cost.
Then I wondered whether Claire had helped choose every detail.
The thought irritated me, so I turned my attention to the girls.
They were excited by the decorations.
My youngest pointed at the lights.
My older daughter wanted to know where we were supposed to sit.
I helped them get settled, trying to act as if I belonged there.
Edward stayed beside me.
His presence made the room feel less difficult to enter.
That was what I had asked him for, even if I hadn't been honest about it.
We had barely finished greeting a few people when I saw Max.
He stood near the main reception area with Claire beside him.
For a moment, I considered turning away.
Then I remembered why I'd brought Edward.
I straightened my shoulders and kept walking.
Max noticed us.
I saw the change in his face before he managed to hide it.
His attention moved from Edward to me, then back to Edward.
He seemed to be checking whether he had understood what he was seeing.
For one brief moment, he didn't speak.
I felt a small, ugly rush of satisfaction.
There it was.
The reaction I'd imagined all week.
Max had been certain I would come alone.
Now he had to look at me standing beside a man who was handsome, confident, and completely comfortable in his own skin.
I wanted to hold on to that moment.
I wanted it to mean something.
Claire stood beside Max in a fitted white gown.
She looked beautiful.
I noticed it before I could stop myself.
Her hair was arranged carefully, and the dress suited her.
For a moment, I felt the familiar pinch of comparison.
I wondered whether Max had looked at her that way when they first began seeing each other.
I wondered whether he'd compared us.
Then I hated myself for still being interested in the answer.
Claire had not been the one who stood in our bedroom and told me I wasn't good enough.
Max had.
But my mind kept making room for both of them in the same painful thought.
Max finally approached.
His expression had settled into something that looked almost amused.
He glanced at Edward.
"So, you brought a date."
I introduced them.
"Max, this is Edward. Edward, Max."
Edward held out his hand.
"Congratulations on the wedding."
Max shook it.
I watched their faces.
Edward looked calm.
Max looked him over with the kind of attention people used when deciding whether someone was worth taking seriously.
For a moment, I thought the introduction might pass without incident.
Then Max laughed.
It wasn't a polite chuckle.
He laughed loudly enough that a few people nearby turned to see what had happened.
My stomach tightened.
I looked at him, waiting for an explanation.
He gestured toward Edward as if the sight of him standing beside me was a joke too obvious to require words.
I could feel the heat rising into my face.
"What's so funny?"
Max looked at me.
Then he looked at Edward again.
His smile widened.
He made it clear that he didn't believe Edward would genuinely choose to date me.
He suggested that a man like Edward would have no reason to be interested in someone like me.
The words struck harder than I wanted them to.
I had spent the week preparing for this wedding as if I could control what Max thought of me.
Now he was standing in front of other people, saying the exact thing I'd been afraid he would say.
I heard the guests talking around us.
I couldn't make out their words.
My hands felt cold.
Claire touched Max's arm.
She seemed to want him to stop.
He ignored her.
He asked whether I'd arranged for Edward to come along as a favor.
I wanted to answer.
I wanted to tell him that he had no right to judge me after what he'd done.
I wanted to ask why he still needed to humiliate me when he was about to marry someone else.
But the words wouldn't come.
For a moment, I was back in the bedroom where he'd told me I wasn't the woman he'd married.
I remembered standing there while he packed his things.
I remembered how carefully I'd listened to every criticism, as though one of them might contain the explanation that would make everything bearable.
Now, surrounded by wedding guests, I felt the same helplessness.
I had brought Edward because I wanted to prove Max wrong.
Instead, I'd given Max another chance to make me feel small.
I looked at Edward.
He wasn't laughing.
He hadn't stepped away from me, either.
He stood quietly, watching Max with an expression I couldn't quite read.
Then something changed.
Edward smiled.
It wasn't the strained smile people used when trying to smooth over an awkward conversation.
It was calm.
Almost thoughtful.
He looked at Max and told him he had brought something for the groom.
Max stopped laughing long enough to look confused.
"A gift?"
Edward nodded.
He said it was meant specifically for him.
I turned toward Edward.
Until that moment, I'd assumed he had come to the wedding with nothing more than the box I'd seen in his car.
I remembered asking about it.
I remembered his casual answer about donations.
Now I wondered what he had planned.
Edward looked at me.
He asked me to wait a few minutes.
Then he walked out of the reception area.
Max watched him leave.
A satisfied expression returned to his face.
He seemed to believe Edward had found an excuse to escape.
I stood beside my ex-husband, surrounded by people who had just watched him humiliate me.
I wanted to leave.
But the girls were there, and I didn't want to pull them away from the wedding without knowing what was happening.
So I stayed.
Five minutes later, Edward returned.
He was carrying the cardboard box from the car.
He placed it on an empty table near us.
The box looked even more ordinary beneath the bright reception lights.
Max glanced at it, then at Edward.
He laughed under his breath.
Edward rested one hand on the lid.
"Go ahead and open it."
And for the first time that evening, I had no idea what was going to happen next.
Click here to continue reading: PART 3: The Box From Edward’s Car Held Something Max Never Expected, and the Story Behind It Began Long Before Our Divorce
My Ex Invited Me to Watch Him Marry the Woman He Chose Over Me, and I Made One Decision I Would Soon Regret
Part 2 of 8
