The night before my wedding, Mark sent me flowers — a massive bouquet of roses. Sounds romantic, right? Except the note attached to them wasn’t exactly what I expected.I’m 35, and Mark has been my entire world for the past six years. We met through mutual friends, fell in love, and eventually built the kind of relationship I thought people only read about. He wasn’t the most romantic guy in the world, but he was reliable and steady.We’d been planning our wedding for over a year, and everything was coming together perfectly. Or so I thought. That night, I was at the hotel with my bridesmaids, doing all the usual last-minute wedding prep. You know the drill…
laughing, sipping wine, double-checking the seating chart for the hundredth time. The excitement was real. Then, right around 10 p.m., there was a knock at the door. It was one of the hotel staff carrying a bouquet of roses. Red, fresh, and fragrant. I couldn’t help but smile. Mark.”Looks like someone’s feeling romantic,” Kelly, my maid of honor, teased as she pulled open the door wider to let them in. “But he’s not even supposed to be contacting me tonight,” I laughed. We had this whole “not seeing each other before the wedding” thing. “Well, he broke the rules.
