My Ex-Husband Invited Me to His Wedding, so I Hired an Actor as My Plus-One
It was clear to me that he was still the same liar and cheat and would treat Elise no better than he treated me.
By the time we got back to my apartment, I was giddy with adrenaline.
I kicked off my heels in the hallway and burst out laughing so hard I had to lean against the wall.
Adrian closed the door behind us, loosened his tie, and laughed too.
“Well,” he said, “that was a day well spent.”
I went to the kitchen, grabbed the bottle of champagne I’d bought in case I needed courage afterward, and held it up. “Do actors drink on the job?”
“I believe this counts as overtime.”
We sat on my couch with our glasses balanced on our knees and did the kind of post-disaster autopsy only close friends usually do.
At some point, we stopped laughing and started talking.
He told me about Elise. How she’d slowly become colder while insisting nothing was wrong. How she had made him feel worthless and unloved.
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I told him about Adam, about the way he could insult you in a tone so reasonable you almost thanked him.
About how he loved the image of being admired more than he ever loved being honest.
