because I could still hear Max telling me what I should 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 would 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 was how I ended up standing 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.”
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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 when the divorce became final, and once helped me rewrite an angry message to Max before I sent
