“EIGHT MONTHS AFTER OUR DIVORCE, HE INVITED ME TO HIS WEDDING—BUT HE HAS NO IDEA WHAT I’M ABOUT TO BRING

stitched, exhausted, emotional, and possibly out of your mind.”

“Probably.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“No,” I said. “It isn’t.”

She studied me like I was standing too close to a ledge. Then her expression softened.

“You really have something, don’t you?”

I touched the leather folder under my coat.

“Yes.”

“Enough?”

“Enough to destroy the wedding. Enough to destroy continue reading …