It was just paper. An envelope addressed to him in fancy writing. It was about the size of a greeting card. He had known its contents without even opening the flap. It sat on a table next to the door for weeks now, unopened. Time was not making it better. He knew he would have to face this. He had heard her comment that she was still waiting for some replies.

Burning buildings, mad men with guns, motorcycle gangs. He had run toward all those potentially life ending situations without blinking. This one envelope froze him every time he glanced at it. It was time to face it.

He had just come back from another brutal workout session at the gym. He had been pushing himself harder and harder. The weights he had lifted were nothing next to the leaden feel of his heart as he felt the slight heft of this envelope.

He should do this quickly. It would be like pulling a bandage off a wound. He would get it over with and then move on. That's what he told himself. He was lying. It would be a reopening of a wound that had never healed. Just as he thought he might be getting a little better, she would smile or mention the wedding and his heart would twist and tear again into ragged pieces.

The envelope held an inner envelope also a deep cream color. His name was written again in that fancy writing.

Mr. Wayne Rigsby and Guest.

And Guest? Wait? Not only was he supposed to come and act like this was all ok, but he was supposed to bring a date to this heartbreak? He was expected to dance and smile and flirt with some unimportant woman while another piece of his heart was being trampled?

He had planned to go. He thought it would be the right thing to do. She was after all, his colleague. They had talked about being friends. He had even managed to congratulate her and keep a convincing smile on his face.

He took another swallow of the beer he didn't even remember taking from the fridge. And Guest. She had to be kidding.

He ran his fingers over the top portion of the invitation. He traced the letters that spelled out her name. At one time, he had even briefly dreamed about seeing her name like this. But it would be his name below it. He closed his eyes for a moment and saw her walking up the aisle in a white gown and veil. She would look like an angel. She would have that small smile that meant she was nervous but happy hovering on her lips. At the altar, the smile would widen as a tall man took her hand in his. It wasn't him.

He went to take a drink and realized it was empty. Tossing the invitation aside, he took the little card out and read it.

M_

Will or will not attend

Below that was a date that they needed the answer. That date was tomorrow. He would respond and drop it in the mail tonight. He would get showered and changed and go out tonight. He would show himself that he could get past it.

Grabbing a pen he began to write his name.

No, and hell no. He wasn't doing this.

Mr. Wayne Rigsby will not attend.