I Brought a Coworker as My Date to My Ex’s Wedding, and One Comment From Him Wiped the Smile Off My Ex’s Face

In the mirror, Max stared back at himself.

A middle-aged man in a navy tuxedo, with a drink-flushed face and his mouth hanging open, standing in front of a hundred and fifty wedding guests.

His face started to turn red.

Then redder.

Then bright red, like a tomato.

Taped to the glass was a card. Cream-colored. Handwritten in neat block letters. Max didn’t take it off. He didn’t have to. Everybody standing nearby could read it.

Claire read it out loud. I don’t think she meant to. I think she just started reading before she realized what it said.

“Max,” she read. “Eighteen months ago, you asked a woman who’d carried your children, and buried two more, and worked full time, and gotten up every night for a year, when she’d last looked at herself in the mirror.”

Claire’s voice slowed down.

“She looked. She saw what you