Wedding Invite Revelation

The cream-colored envelope trembled in my hands as I stared at the elegant script that should have read "Lottie Taylor" but instead proclaimed "Rory White" in flowing calligraphy. My heart hammered against my ribs as I rifled through the stack of wedding invitations on Maddox's desk, each one bearing the same impossible mistake.

"Maddox!" My voice cracked as I called out, the invitations scattered across the mahogany surface like accusations. "What is this?"

He emerged from the kitchen, coffee mug in hand, his dark hair still tousled from sleep. When his eyes landed on the mess I'd made of his perfectly organized desk, his jaw tightened. "Lottie, what are you doing going through my things?"

"Going through your—" I held up one of the invitations, my hand shaking. "My name, Maddox. My name isn't on our wedding invitations. Rory White's name is."

He set down his mug with deliberate calm, the ceramic clicking against the granite countertop. "It's not a big deal. I'll handle it."

"Not a big deal?" The words came out strangled. "Our wedding is in three days, and you're telling me it's not a big deal that I'm not even named as the bride?"

Maddox's eyes flashed with that familiar irritation I'd learned to recognize—the look that said I was being unreasonable again. "Trust me, Lottie. I said I'll handle it, so I'll handle it. Why do you always have to make everything into a crisis?"

I stared at him, this man I'd planned to spend my life with, and felt something cold settle in my chest. "How did this even happen? How does someone accidentally put the wrong name on two hundred wedding invitations?"

"Does it matter?" He moved toward me, reaching for the invitations. "I'll call the printer, get them reprinted. Problem solved."

I pulled the invitations against my chest, protecting them from his dismissive touch. "It matters to me. This is our wedding, Maddox. My wedding. And my name isn't even on it."

His mouth pressed into a thin line. "You're being dramatic. It's a printing error, nothing more."

But something in his tone, the way his eyes wouldn't quite meet mine, sent ice through my veins. This wasn't a mistake. This was something else entirely.

That evening, I stood outside the Riverside Tavern, clutching a bottle of champagne I'd planned to surprise Maddox with at his bachelor party. The warm glow from the windows should have felt welcoming, but my stomach churned with unease. The invitation incident had been gnawing at me all day, and I'd hoped surprising him might bridge whatever strange distance had opened between us.

I pushed through the heavy wooden door, the sound of male laughter washing over me. The private dining room was just ahead, and I could see Maddox through the glass partition, his head thrown back in amusement, surrounded by his groomsmen.

"—brilliant idea," someone was saying as I approached. "Only Hanna could think of something like that."

I froze, my hand on the door handle.

"A pre-marriage test," Maddox's voice carried clearly through the thin walls. "She said if Lottie throws a tantrum like usual, then I'll know she's not ready for marriage. But if she finally learns to be reasonable and just trusts me to handle it..."

The champagne bottle slipped from my numb fingers, but I caught it before it could shatter on the floor. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure they'd hear it through the wall.

"Hanna's a genius," another voice chimed in. "She always knows how to keep women in line. Lucky you, having a friend like that to guide you through all this relationship stuff."

"Right?" Maddox laughed, and the sound felt like glass in my chest. "Lottie would lose her mind if she knew, but sometimes you have to test these things. Better to find out now if she's going to question every decision I make."

I backed away from the door, my legs unsteady. The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly as I stumbled toward the exit, their laughter following me like a soundtrack to my humiliation.

A test. The invitations, the dismissal, the casual cruelty—it was all a test orchestrated by Hanna Scott and executed by the man I'd trusted with my heart.

I made it to my car before the tears came, hot and furious against my cheeks. My phone buzzed with a text from Maddox: "Having a great time! See you tomorrow, beautiful."

I stared at the message until the letters blurred, then slowly began to type a response. But instead of texting Maddox back, I found myself scrolling to a different name in my contacts.

Rory White.

My finger hovered over his number as a wild, desperate idea took shape in my mind. The invitations bore his name. Maybe it was time to honor them exactly as they were written.