“He wants to mock me,” I said, and three questions tumbled out before Edward could put the phone down.

“Why would he text a photo of an invitation instead of putting it in the mail?

Does he think I don’t open my mailbox anymore?

Or does he just want to make sure I know he assumes I’m coming alone?”

“He texted because it didn’t cost him a postage stamp,” Edward said.

“Come to my ex-husband’s wedding with me,” I said.

The sentence was out of my mouth before I could stop it, hanging in the narrow space between the microwave and the water cooler.