The Groom Wrote the Wrong Name at Our Wedding

Otto stared at how serious I was, and the words came out ragged with impatience:

"It's a piece of paper, Denise. Do you really have to blow this up, embarrassing me on purpose in front of all these guests?"

"Our wedding isn't going to fall apart over one wrong word on the vows, and what I feel for you isn't going to cool over one typo."

He reached out and caught my wrist, straining to hold his temper down:

"Come on, be good, no more of this, all right? Everyone's watching."

My fingertips went taut. I didn't give an inch:

"I want new vows. This matters to me."

Otto's patience burned out completely. His brows knotted hard, he flung my hand away, his voice thick with accusation and disbelief:

"Are some lousy vows really that important? More important than me marrying you?!"

I didn't answer him. I asked the question I'd been keeping buried:

"You kept your bet with her, but you ruined our vows."

"Otto, in your heart, who is it you're really meant to spend your life with?"

"You, of course! But keeping your word to a friend is just basic decency!"

"Why do you have to throw a fit at me on a day this important?"

Oscar once told me that someone who truly loves you never mistakes you for anyone else, and never calls you by the wrong name.

Because that face was eighty percent Oscar's, I'd bent to Otto in everything these five years, never once losing my temper.

He knew better than anyone how much this wedding meant to me, and still he wouldn't yield an inch.

Because he was certain the deal was sealed and I had nowhere to go.

That no matter how big a scene I made, in the end I'd marry him like a good girl.

I lifted my eyes and looked straight at him, my voice very calm:

"I'm not throwing a fit. I only want a set of vows that's my own."

Otto looked at me like I was a person too stubborn to reason with, and finally let out an incredulous laugh.

"Denise, if you keep this up, there's really no point in getting married at all!"

A wave of sharp gasps went through the guests.

Lena chimed in softly:

"Denise, you're really taking this too seriously. You're making things awkward for everyone…"

I slowly loosened my grip on the vows and let that absurd piece of paper drop.

Five years tangled together, void with one sheet of paper.

Oscar wouldn't have some "girl friend." He wouldn't humiliate me in front of a crowd like this.

And he'd never use "no wedding" to threaten me.

Otto could never be him.

Before, I'd understood and forgiven every single time. But today this typo-ridden set of vows tore through every lie I'd been telling myself.

Seeing me go quiet, Otto thought I'd caved, that I was scared, and his tone hardened further:

"If you've come to your senses, get over here and go through the ceremony. Stop making things difficult for the elders."

I swept my eyes across the room. My parents and all eight of my brothers were waiting for me to decide.

So, in front of every guest, I spoke calmly:

"Fine. This wedding is off."