Page 5 of Wedding or Not

But what I’m not going to do is burst into sobs in the middle of an office building, surrounded by strangers.

So I don’t say anything at all.

I turn on my heel and walk away.

Blossom Park is located in eastern Maryland on the outskirts of a small, historic town about an hour from Baltimore and less than two hours from DC.

It’s always been a good location for weddings and events since there’re such large population centers within an easy drive.

Unfortunately, an hour and forty-five minutes is far too long to ride home in the passenger seat of Wes’s midsized SUV.

He’s stiff and silent as he drives, and I try to numb myself to everything that’s happened by listening to music through my earbuds.

The trip is endless, and I’ve come up with no brainstorms or brilliant revelations for dealing with this mess by the time we drive through the main gates of the property.

Blossom Park is made up of more than a hundred acres, including twenty separate landscaped gardens as well as wooded areas, the fields of wildflowers, and green lawns surrounding the original colonial mansion.

My throat aches as we drive down the road that leads to the cottages, which were built fifty years ago when the family moved out of the mansion.

Audrey is standing at the end of the driveway when Wes pulls in.

“Something is going on,” he murmurs, pulling into his normal parking place.

That much is clear. Audrey’s face is… strange.

She’s shorter and curvier than me. Her hair is as long as mine, but it’s a lighter brown and straight as a stick, unlike my constantly rumpled waves. She’s also smarter than anyone I’ve ever known.

She used to drive me crazy by spouting out random facts about everything imaginable, but she’s been my best friend all our lives.

She’s got another year in a PhD program in history, and she’s been living at home to write her dissertation.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, jumping out of the SUV and running over. “Is everyone all right?”

“Everyone is fine.” She’s holding her phone like it’s a sacred text. “But did you know… I mean, were you aware…?”

“Was I aware of what?”

My heart is beating fast. Whatever this is must be serious, and it’s momentarily diverted me from my distress.

I texted everyone after the appointment, of course, so they all know the bad news. That isn’t what this is.

Audrey clears her throat and lifts her phone. “Someone… someone was watching you. You and Wes. In the waiting room.”

“What?” Now I’m baffled, and I turn instinctively toward Wes, who has come to stand beside me.

He’s as confused as I am.

“They started by posting one picture, joking about how you two were obviously enemies-to-lovers in a fight. A bunch of people liked and commented, so the person kept posting about you. And now it’s… It’s gone crazy.”

“What are you even talking about?”

Audrey hands me her phone. She’s got a post on Threads pulled up.

It is indeed a photo of me and Wes, sitting with one seat between us, slanting annoyed looks at each other.

Then the account continues the thread with more photos. Of us talking to each other. Of me glaring at his back as we walk into the office.

Hundreds of people have commented, enjoying the charming, clever narration of each photo and asking for further updates.