My Ex-Husband Invited Me to His Wedding, so I Hired an Actor as My Plus-One

All she wanted was to appear calm, sophisticated, and impossible to feel sorry for.

Rather, before the reception was halfway through, the whole party broke down as Nora entered her ex-husband’s wedding on the arm of a man the bride knew well.

I laughed so much that I almost dropped the envelope into my coffee when my ex-husband invited me to his wedding.

He remained comically predictable.

Adam was a sucker for this kind of slick, nasty crap.

The thick cream cardboard invitation was pricey enough to make one feel arrogant. It stated that the ceremony would take place at a winery two hours outside the city with a gold theme.

Adam put it this way: “I will absolutely judge what you wear.” Black ties were optional.

The scribbled note at the bottom caught my attention as I was about to chuck it onto the counter and forget about it.

“Hope you can come alone. It would mean a lot to me.”

That’s what forced me to take a seat.

I had been divorced from Adam for a year and a half. After six years of marriage, he had cheated on me and then abandoned me for the lady.

For the majority of last year, he pretended that my lack of grace in handling being dumped was the greatest tragedy in our breakup.

“You’re too emotional,” he used to say, and “It’s not a big deal.”

He eventually ended our relationship, saying, “You’re a good woman, Nora, but you’re not the kind of woman a successful man can build a life around.”

After that one, I vividly recall looking at him and thinking, “Oh, so you actually think you are the prize.”

He filed for divorce three months later.

He refused to acknowledge that he was the primary reason for our breakup. He said just enough to make me sound draining and himself seem virtuous.

He “felt unseen.” He “hadn’t meant for it to happen.” There had been “a connection.”

Other than the fact that she existed, I never found out much about the other woman.

I was devastated to find out that he had moved on with her after the divorce was finalised. However, I am now relieved that the garbage removed itself.

Ultimately, I recognised him for his self-centredness and cruelty. Therefore, I didn’t think at all that he wanted me to attend the wedding out of maturity or kindness.

He wanted me to be small and by myself there. He was essentially saying, “Look, we’re getting married, and you are not even seeing anyone yet.”

This would prove to him that I wasn’t a nice person and he was.

I refused to give him the satisfaction of a final victory lap.

I so made the decision to go with a man in my arms rather than by myself.

When I told my coworker that Adam had invited me to his wedding, expecting me to attend alone, I contacted Felicity. Felicity managed a small event staffing company that mostly provided hosts, greeters, and fictitious dates.

When I explained, she didn’t even blink. Over the phone, she enquired, “Do you want a handsome, built body, or one with both?”

“I want one with both, but he must have charisma and be a gentleman.”

“Mmh… I already have one in mind, he is devastatingly handsome, charming, and kind.”

As I entered with this man, I could already see Adam’s expression. He would be shocked to learn that I’m not as isolated as he thought.

Three days prior to the wedding, Adrian entered my life.

He was tall, dark-haired, exquisitely attired, and so endearing and kind that I questioned how such a man could exist.

His speech was soothing enough to put me at ease, and he had the kind of actor’s smile that fell exactly where it was supposed to.

I thought it was absurd that we met for coffee to “establish chemistry,” but then he sat into the seat across from me and said, “Tell me exactly what outcome you want.”

I crossed my arms. “I want my ex-husband to regret inviting me.”

Adrian gave a nod. “Do you want him humiliated, rattled, or jealous?”

I gazed at him. “Is this your full-time job?”

“No,” he replied. “I’m a theatre actor. This is just something I do on the side for fun.”

Despite myself, I laughed.

I then told him the truth. Adam had spent years making me feel unremarkable and that he wanted me to arrive by myself.

I wanted one ideal evening when he realised how well I had survived him, but I didn’t want him back, not even for sport.

Adrian paid attention without interjecting.

Upon my completion, he remarked, “So your goal isn’t revenge. It’s to make him jealous and realise that he didn’t destroy you.”

My eyes narrowed. “That sounded exactly right.”

He grinned. “I’ll give you exactly what you need.”

We had a backstory by the time the meeting ended. Our common friends had introduced us. He was a talent manager in the creative sector.

He occasionally smoked on balconies during parties, but not to the point where it was noticeable, and he enjoyed classic films. He was warm without acting and focused without lingering.

“You’ve done this before,” I said.

“A few times.”

“And nobody ever falls in love?”

He raised a shoulder. “That would be unprofessional.”

I rolled my eyes. “Really?”

With a smile, he said, “Yes, it would be.”

Then came the day of the wedding.

I accessorised my gorgeous bareback dress with gold jewellery and heels.

Adrian showed off his sculpted appearance in a nicely fitted tuxedo. He glanced at me when I answered the door and remarked, “Your ex is in trouble.”

My anxiety suddenly subsided as I laughed.

There were several well-dressed folks in the vineyard who pretended not to look.

I felt eyes turn the moment we got out of the car. I told myself to take a deep breath as I ran my palm around Adrian’s arm.

The ceremony was over when we entered the reception hall. That was a calculated move.

I had no desire to sit through vows. I mainly wanted to be noticed at the reception, which is often attended by more people.

As Adam and his bride engaged with their guests, I wanted them to notice me.

Adam was the first to notice us.

He was standing close to the bar, half-turned toward a group of relatives, one hand wrapped around a champagne flute.

His entire expression altered as soon as he saw me.

Probably since he believed I was there to see him and his bride, he appeared happy than before.

He turned white when he saw Adrian, as if someone had just kicked all the blood out of him.

The bride, who was conversing with other guests next to Adam, turned at that precise time.

In her umbrella gown, she looked stunning. Her earrings and neck were adorned with jewels, and her dark hair was put up. She scowled when she saw me, then tensed up when she spotted Adrian.

Adrian’s hand clenched around mine at that moment.

“I promise you, I didn’t know this, but the bride, your ex’s new wife, was my fiancée,” he murmured, bending down to smile at the guests.

I lost the ability to breathe for a split second.

I cocked my head a little. “What?”

“Keep smiling,” he whispered. “I’ll explain later.”

I ought to have sought explanations and released his arm. I ought to have left them all to their foolishness at that moment.

Rather, I grinned, perhaps because I was already too close, perhaps because Adam still appeared to be seeing a ghost.

Adrian grinned as well.

Together, we walked across the room as if we had nothing at all to conceal.

Adam, who was moving too quickly for a man attempting to be casual, met us midway.

“Nora,” he said. “You came.”

His gaze shifted back to Adrian, and I noticed something I had never seen before: fear.

I tried to look as friendly as possible at him. “You invited me.”

To his credit, Adrian appeared nearly amused.

Too evenly, Adam remarked, “I didn’t realise you were bringing someone, or that you even knew Adrian.”

I cocked my head. “That’s funny. Your note made such a point of hoping I would come alone. As for Adrian, he is my boyfriend. Apparently, you know him. Tell me how.”

His jaw clenched.

Now the bride was standing at his shoulder, looking directly at Adrian. “What is Adrian doing here? What is your ex doing here?”

Her enquiries sounded more pointed than she had intended. A few visitors in the vicinity fell silent.

I gave her a look. “You should ask your husband. He invited me.”

With a betrayed expression on her face, she turned to face Adam and said, “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t invite our exes.”

Adam pretended to be contrite and said, “I am sorry. I just wanted her to see that we were happy.”

As Adrian and I watched, the bride spiralled, “Is that what was more important? Us getting married should be enough.

Does she have to know you are happy? Are you not over her?” A few visitors were listening in as well.

Adam stammered out, “No, no, that’s not it,” “I love you, and you are enough. I just…”

I added, “Just selfish and caring about you only as usual,” relieved that Adam had not changed.

“And what are you doing with my ex-fiancé?” the bride asked, turning to face us.

In response, I said, “Oh, you mean my boyfriend. We also just wanted you two to see that we are happy.” Adrian drew me in by the waist.

“This is crazy,” the bride whispered.

“Look at the drama that you invited to our wedding. And for what? Just to satisfy your ego,” she said, directing her boiling rage at Adam.

As more people gathered to hear the play, I became aware that I had fulfilled my purpose for being here. This wasn’t even a love celebration.

My ex-husband was simply displaying his self-centredness to a wider audience.

“Let’s go,” I said to Adrian, “There is no wedding here. Just the endless drama, the ego and selfishness Adam has tends to drag everywhere.”

Adrian kissed my cheek as he nodded. Adam was still pleading with his spouse for forgiveness and assuring her that he had no malicious intent when we left.

After causing pain on what ought to be their happiest day, only a crazy individual like him could claim that.

I didn’t hiss, “How do you know Adam and his bride?” until we were out of earshot.

“Her name is Elise,” he muttered. “We were together for four years and engaged for eight months.

Then she started pulling away. She would go on work trips over the weekend, say she was busy, and hide things from me.”

I nodded since Adam’s behaviour changed in the same way when he cheated on me.

“I later found out she’d been sleeping with a married man after finding their messages on her laptop. She was not even sorry,” Adrian said.

I remembered how difficult it was for Adam to not pick me when I found out.

Adrian added, “She bragged that the man was leaving an unhappy marriage and that once the divorce was final, they would get married. I ended things and moved out. I never knew the man’s name.”

My stomach fell. “This whole time, it was Adam.”

He gave a nod. “When I walked in. I was surprised to see Elise.

After our breakup, I have never bothered finding out what she is up to and whether they moved on with each other or not.

So, I didn’t know they were the bride and groom, let alone that she was getting married.”

“Adm clearly knew who you were. He was shocked to see you here.”

“I saw the look on his face and knew that I had to accomplish what we came to do here. This has turned out to be not just your revenge but mine as well.”

I chuckled briefly and incredulously.

“So we’re both here as revenge dates against the same affair.”

“Apparently.”

“Wow,” I exclaimed.

I was let into the car by Adrian, who said, “This was an efficient casting.”

As I entered, I genuinely grinned.

The speed at which Adam and Elise’s idyllic day broke was almost astounding.

As we drove away, Adrian muttered, “This is better than therapy.”

I concurred since, for the first time since my divorce, I had witnessed Adam wreck himself without my assistance.

I also came to the realisation that I had lost interest in what he would do or what would transpire between him and Elise.

I could see that he was still the same cheater and liar who would treat Elise the same way he treated me.

I was ecstatic with adrenaline by the time we returned to my flat.

In the hallway, I kicked off my heels and laughed so hard I had to lean against the wall.

Adrian chuckled too, untied his tie, and shut the door behind us.

“Well,” he remarked, “that was a day well spent.”

I went to the kitchen, picked up the bottle of champagne I had purchased in case I needed bravery later, and raised it. “Do actors drink on the job?”

“I believe this counts as overtime.”

We performed the kind of post-disaster autopsy that only close friends often perform while sitting on my couch with our glasses placed on our knees.

We eventually stopped giggling and began conversing.

He shared Elise with me. How she would gradually grow colder while maintaining that nothing was amiss. How she had made him feel unloved and unworthy.

I told him about Adam and how he could make fun of you in a way that was so logical that you practically praised him.

about how he never enjoyed being honest as much as he loved the appearance of being admired.

We talked about anything from betrayal to getting to know one another.

Adrian removed his jacket at midnight and folded it neatly over the chair’s arm, as if he hadn’t anticipated his fictitious date turning into champagne and confessions.

I turned to face him and remarked, “You know, you’re much kinder than Adam.”

He stared at me for a moment.

“I’d like to stay that way.”

Something changed at that point.

Just the silent knowledge that I was seated across from a man who had every right to get resentful but had somehow refrained from doing so.

Before he went, he gave me a hug and said he would keep in touch.

After that, we didn’t rush anything.

Ironically, that was perhaps the first healthful thing either of us had done in a long time.

The following day, we texted each other. Next, the following day. We had supper without making up backstories a week later.

Two weeks later, we enjoyed each other’s company at a downtown tiny theatre.

After a month, I became aware that I was anticipating seeing his face in a way that was both exciting and frightening.

He didn’t perform or push.

It was therefore natural for us to fall in love at last. It was like returning home at last.

Eight months have passed since then.

Where this ends is unknown to me. I hope it’s not too dramatic. Perhaps in a beautiful place.

However, I am aware of this:

My ex-husband wanted to see me alone the night he invited me to his wedding.

Rather, I entered with the man whose life he had contributed to ruining, and together we witnessed his idyllic day crumble under the weight of his own deception.

After that, I returned home and spent champagne with the first respectable man I had seen in a very long time.

I was once advised by Adam that I wasn’t the type of woman a successful man should be seen with because I was too sentimental and unremarkable.

That is unlike anything Adrian has ever said.

He simply gives me the impression that I’m someone worth getting to know.

That’s sufficient for now.

Taking each day as it comes doesn’t feel like a loss for the first time in years.

It has a serene vibe.