I followed Edward into the hallway.
The music from the reception grew quieter behind us.
I could still hear people talking, but their voices had become a low murmur.
For the first time since we'd arrived, I wasn't standing in front of Max.
I should have felt relieved.
Instead, I was angry.
Not at Max.
Not anymore.
I was angry because Edward had known something I hadn't, and he'd allowed me to walk into the wedding without telling me.
He stood a few feet away, giving me room.
His expression had lost the calm certainty he'd shown while talking about the trousers.
He looked uncomfortable.
"Max was wrong about you," he said.
I folded my arms.
"I know."
He nodded, accepting the answer.
"But there's something I should have told you before tonight."
I waited.
He explained that when I'd asked him to pretend to be my boyfriend, he'd understood why I wanted it.
He knew I wanted Max to see us together.
He knew I wanted Max to look at me and question his decision to leave.
Edward had agreed because he hoped that being there with me might help me see something different.
He'd hoped I would realize that bringing a handsome man to the wedding couldn't prove anything about my worth.
I stared at him.
For a moment, I didn't know what to say.
Then I understood what was bothering me.
He had known I was trying to prove myself to Max.
He had also known he wasn't agreeing for the reason I'd given him.
And he hadn't told me.
"You could have said that before we came here."
"You're right."
His answer came without hesitation.
That almost made me angrier.
I wanted him to defend himself.
I wanted him to explain that he had meant well, that he'd thought he was helping, that he'd only wanted me to stop hurting.
Any of those things might have made the conversation easier.
Instead, he stood there and let me be upset.
I told him he'd allowed me to believe he was playing the role I'd asked him to play.
I had spent the week thinking about how Max would react when he saw us together.
I'd chosen my dress with that moment in mind.
I'd walked into the wedding believing Edward and I had made an arrangement we both understood.
Now I felt foolish.
Edward listened.
He didn't interrupt.
When I finished, he said he should have been honest with me.
That was all.
I turned away because I could feel tears beginning to gather.
I didn't want to cry in the hallway.
I especially didn't want Max to see me crying after everything he'd said.
I walked farther down the corridor.
Edward followed, but he kept his distance.
He didn't try to touch my shoulder or tell me to calm down.
I appreciated that, even while I was still angry with him.
I stopped near the wall and wiped beneath one eye.
I could hear the reception continuing behind us.
People were laughing again.
Glasses clinked.
The wedding carried on as if nothing important had happened.
Then I heard a small voice.
"Mom?"
I turned.
My older daughter stood a short distance away.
She had left the reception and was looking at me with a worried expression.
I straightened quickly.
"Hi, sweetheart."
She glanced toward the room we'd left.
Then she looked back at me.
"Why did Dad say nobody would want to date you?"
I felt the question in my chest before I had time to answer.
Children heard more than adults thought they did.
They noticed things we wished they hadn't.
I crouched so I could look directly at her.
"Your dad was being mean."
She studied my face.
I could see her trying to understand how a person could say something like that about someone they had once loved.
Then she asked whether Edward was really my boyfriend.
I shook my head.
"No. He's my friend from work."
She looked confused.
"Then why did you tell everyone he was your boyfriend?"
I could have made up an answer.
I could have told her that adults sometimes pretended things at weddings.
I could have said it was a joke she didn't need to worry about.
Instead, I decided to tell her the truth.
I told her I'd wanted her father to think someone wanted to be with me.
The words sounded worse when I said them aloud.
I had been so focused on Max's opinion that I hadn't stopped to consider how my daughter might understand what was happening.
She frowned.
Then she said something I still think about.
"But we wanted you to come."
I couldn't answer.
She didn't know what she'd just done to me.
She hadn't offered a lesson.
She hadn't tried to make me feel better with a speech.
She had simply reminded me that I already belonged to people who loved me.
I had gone to the wedding hoping to convince Max that someone might want me.
My daughter had been waiting for me to show up because she wanted me there.
Those were two different things.
And I'd been so distracted by the first that I had almost missed the second.
She put her arms around me.
I held her close.
For a few seconds, I let myself stop thinking about my dress, my body, and the people waiting in the reception room.
I was just her mother.
That was enough for her.
When she finally pulled away, she looked at me once more before returning to the wedding.
I watched her go.
Edward was still standing nearby.
He didn't ask what she'd said.
He didn't need to.
I turned toward him.
"I'm still upset with you."
"I understand."
"You shouldn't have made that decision for me."
"No. I shouldn't have."
I looked at him, waiting to see whether he would add something.
He didn't.
His willingness to admit he had handled things badly didn't erase what he'd done.
But it made it harder to stay angry in exactly the same way.
I wasn't ready to forgive him.
I wasn't sure I wanted to.
Then Max appeared at the end of the hallway.
His expression had changed since the scene around the box.
He looked less amused now, though he was still trying to hold on to the confidence he'd brought into the room.
Claire was behind him.
Max glanced at Edward before turning toward me.
I knew that look.
He was preparing to explain what had happened in a way that made him the reasonable person and me the problem.
I decided not to wait for him.
I asked him why he still cared so much about whether I was desirable.
He was marrying Claire.
He had the wedding he'd wanted.
He had chosen the life he believed was better for him.
So why did he still need to convince everyone that leaving me had been the right decision?
Max looked at me without answering.
For a moment, I thought he might actually consider the question.
Then he glanced toward Claire.
He said I was making the situation sound worse than it was.
He suggested I was twisting his words.
I almost laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because I'd heard that response so many times that I could have predicted it before he spoke.
Claire had been listening.
She looked at me, then turned toward Max.
She asked him whether he'd told her that I had simply stopped taking care of myself.
Max's jaw tightened.
He said I had.
Claire shook her head slightly.
She pointed out that what she'd just heard was different.
I watched the exchange without saying anything.
I didn't know what Claire had believed about me before that moment.
I didn't know whether she'd accepted Max's explanation because it suited her or because she'd never had a reason to question it.
I only knew that she was hearing another version of the story now.
Max had told her I had given up.
He had made our marriage sound like something that failed because I stopped being the woman he wanted.
But the conversation in the reception room had revealed a different picture.
He had cheated.
He had made cruel remarks about my appearance.
He had continued judging me even after our marriage ended.
And when I arrived with someone else, he had treated it as another opportunity to prove I was unworthy.
Claire's expression grew more guarded.
Max noticed.
He tried to redirect the conversation, but she didn't immediately follow him.
For the first time that evening, I saw uncertainty between them.
I didn't feel victorious.
That surprised me.
A week earlier, I might have welcomed the sight of Claire questioning Max.
I might have hoped that the same doubts I'd lived with would begin to trouble her.
But standing there, I felt mostly tired.
Their relationship was theirs to understand.
I didn't want to spend the rest of my life waiting for another woman to discover what I'd already learned.
Max looked back at me.
I held his gaze.
I didn't need to convince him that I was attractive.
I didn't need him to regret his choice.
I didn't even need him to admit that he'd hurt me.
Those things might have mattered once.
They still hurt, but they no longer felt like the only way I could move forward.
I turned away first.
Not because I was afraid of what he might say.
Because I had nothing else to prove to him that night.
When I returned to the reception area, Edward was putting the old trousers back into the cardboard box.
The fabric folded awkwardly over the edge.
I stood beside him for a moment.
"What are you going to do with those?"
"Take them to the donation center."
I looked at the trousers.
Then at the box.
"Good."
He raised his eyebrows slightly.
I reminded him that I was still angry with him.
He nodded.
"I know."
I told him he owed me for making me feel as though I'd been brought into a lesson without my permission.
He accepted that, too.
Then I told him he could start by getting the box out of my ex-husband's wedding.
For the first time since the hallway conversation, I smiled.
Edward lifted the box.
He made a quiet remark about being the best pretend date I'd ever had.
I reminded him that he was also the only one.
He said that meant his record was still perfect.
I laughed.
It came out before I could stop it.
The sound felt unfamiliar after the way the evening had begun.
Not because I had suddenly forgotten what Max had said.
Not because I had decided Edward's choice to withhold his real reason didn't matter.
I was still hurt.
I was still sorting through the things I'd heard and the things I'd finally admitted to myself.
But for one moment, I wasn't measuring my reaction against Max's expectations.
I was simply laughing at a ridiculous situation.
That was enough.
Soon afterward, I gathered the girls.
My youngest was sticky from frosting, and my older daughter was looking for something she'd left near the table.
I helped them collect their things.
We said our goodbyes and headed toward the exit.
I didn't look for Max.
I didn't check whether Claire was watching.
I didn't wonder whether the guests would remember Edward's story tomorrow.
I was ready to go home.
Then, just before we reached the door, I heard Max call my name.
I stopped and turned.
He was standing a short distance away.
He looked from me to Edward, who was carrying the cardboard box, and then back to me.
He asked what would happen between Edward and me after the wedding.
I understood why he wanted to know.
If Edward really wanted me, Max could use that as evidence that he'd been wrong about my desirability.
If Edward didn't, Max could treat that as proof that he'd been right.
Either answer would give him another way to measure me.
I looked at him for a moment.
Then I asked whether he truly needed to know.
He began to respond.
I didn't wait for the answer.
I turned back toward the exit and continued walking with my daughters.
For once, I was willing to leave his question unanswered.
Click here to continue reading: PART 5: My Daughter Asked One Simple Question About Her Dress, and I Realized How Easily I Could Pass My Own Shame Down to Her
My Ex Invited Me to Watch Him Marry the Woman He Chose Over Me, and I Made One Decision I Would Soon Regret
Part 4 of 8
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