The Coffin Box at Our Wedding

1: 1

I'd barely settled on our wedding theme when Asher James's female strategist leaned close to his ear again with her latest bright idea:

Josie's always marched to her own beat. Why not switch the theme to black? Add some skulls. Give her a surprise.

A wedding this unique, she'll be so moved.

Asher nodded and told the planner right away to change the theme to something dark and gothic.

I stood behind them and watched it all, quiet.

This was the thirty-fourth time Paulette Whitney had fed Asher her scheming little suggestions.

Because of her advice,

our wedding suite had gone from Italian minimalist to a searing neon pink,

and our pre-wedding trip had been changed from Peru to her hometown, some backwater county.

I watched every careful plan of mine get rewritten before my eyes.

And Asher just took it as a matter of course:

Paulette's my strategist. She's the one who taught me how to win you over in the first place. Girls understand girls. If she suggested it, it can't be wrong.

Before today, I'd told him countless times that all I wanted was a woodland-themed wedding.

He knew that. And still he did whatever Paulette said.

Fine, then. This black skull wedding of theirs.

I decided I wouldn't be attending.

Jo-Jo, guess what surprise I've got planned for our wedding?

Asher fitted a straw into a warm latte and put it in my hands.

Gentle, the way he always was.

I lowered my eyes.

Maybe he really did just want to plan a surprise for me.

The thought had barely surfaced when Paulette dropped into the seat beside him.

Josie, I'm so jealous of you. Ashy's so thoughtful with you.

Not like me. I fuss over my big boy here day and night, and all I ever get to drink is his leftovers.

With that she grabbed the coffee Asher was drinking and casually sipped from his straw.

He choked, caught off guard, coffee splashing all over him.

He was usually so particular about being clean, but he didn't mind in the least. He just ruffled Paulette's hair, doting:

Slow down. Too much and you won't sleep tonight, then you'll be fussing for me to come keep you company again.

Paulette sucked at the coffee and wiggled from side to side, all smug:

Well, you're supposed to keep me company. If I hadn't stayed up night after night coming up with ideas for you, how would you ever have landed an influencer like Josie Locke?

Asher laughed low, teasing her on purpose:

And who's the one who can't sleep at night and insists on someone telling her stories?

Ugh, how could you make fun of me in front of everyone. She scolded him, swatting at him for show, and he caught her hand and pulled her back with him.

In the scuffle, Paulette ended up sprawled right across Asher's lap.

They flirted and bantered like no one else was there.

The planner off to the side gave an awkward little smile, then stole a glance at me, the bride-to-be,

like she couldn't work out what the three of us were to each other, and finally forced a dry laugh:

Ms. Locke, your fianc and his friend are really close.

Paulette shot upright and stroked an imaginary beard, playing it up:

I'm not his friend. I'm his daddy! Every decision Ashy makes, he has to run by me first. I'm the one who does the strategizing for him.

Asher stood, and with the cuff of his custom shirt he gently wiped the coffee from the corner of her mouth.

Yes, yes, yes. Without my strategist, I really wouldn't know what to do.

The planner had nothing left to say to that. She just pretended not to see and turned her laptop toward me.

Ms. Locke, the main plan is more or less locked in. You can take a look at the rest of the details.

My eyes fell on the screen, and there was our engagement photo, Asher and me, both of us smiling like we couldn't be happier.

I lifted my gaze slowly, back to the two of them being so intimate in front of me,

and my throat tightened:

Is the confirmed plan the woodland theme?

Asher cut in quickly:

Jo-Jo, whatever the theme is, leave the wedding to me and don't worry. I'll give you a wedding you'll never forget.

I looked at him. I don't like black, and I hate skulls even more. If that's the wedding you're planning to give me, then let's not have one at all.

Asher blinked, then frowned, at a loss:

What is it now? Haven't you always liked things that stand out? That black stone I gave you before, you've kept it on your nightstand this whole time.

A black stone?

The black stone he'd given me?

The last time Asher came home from a business trip abroad, he had a whole table piled with gifts.

Skincare sets, diamond jewelry, a limited-edition collector's watch.

Every one of them clearly chosen with thought.

I smiled softly. Asher, you remembered my birthday's coming up?

He froze for a second, catching up a beat late:

Of course. Look what I brought you.

He dug out a strangely shaped black stone from the corner and held it out to me.

I picked it up on the beach. Isn't it something?

I hesitated, then nodded, took the stone, and set it carefully on my nightstand.

The moment I turned around, I saw Paulette standing in my living room.

She was looking at the table full of gifts, so excited she was shouting and bouncing:

Wow, that's my good boy. Every single thing I mentioned, you went and bought it all. So obedient!

When she saw me, she glanced past me toward the bedroom and snorted a laugh.

Then she patted Asher's shoulder and waggled her eyebrows at him:

Told you I was right. That stone that looks like a little black turd, Josie would treat it like treasure for sure! Hahaha!

Asher laughed along and fastened the diamond necklace around her neck.

When my strategist gives advice, she's never wrong.

It was only then that it came clear to me.

Everything on that table, all of it, was Asher's gift to Paulette.

My birthday present was only that stone.

I stood there feeling like I didn't belong, and just as I turned to go, a sharp pain shot through my forehead.

Asher, the headache medicine I asked you to bring back from your trip?

Work was too busy this trip, I didn't have time to get it. Next time. He was busy putting the necklace on someone else, brushing me off without a thought.

I get migraines, and the medication that actually works is only sold in the city he'd gone to. I'd made a point of reminding him before he left.

I pulled open the medicine box and shook the empty bottle.

Asher came over and wrapped his arms around me from behind, light and unbothered:

Headache again? I'll definitely remember to buy your medicine next time.

Next time again.

His next-times always came through eventually.

It was just that by then I'd long since had someone else pick it up for me.

It was always like this.

Never in time for when I actually needed it.

Like an invisible thread tied to my nerve endings.

Not pulled tight, not snapped through.

Just yanked taut in every single moment I tried to let myself relax.

The song "Today You're Marrying Me" started playing in the wedding shop,

and the memory broke off. I sat there, dazed.

Across from me, Paulette smiled, heavy with meaning:

Josie, my good boy here understands what you want better than you do. Maybe a black wedding suits you better after all.

I gave a faint smile of my own.

But there's one thing he'll never understand. This wedding, from now on, has nothing to do with me.

2: 2

I grabbed my bag to leave, and Asher's hand shot out and locked around my wrist.

"What do you mean it has nothing to do with you? You're the bride!"

"A bride who doesn't even get a say in her own wedding dcor? What kind of bride is that? I've told you a hundred times, I want a woodland wedding."

I pulled the notebook out of my bag. It was full of everything I'd worked out for this wedding.

The color palette, the brand of favors for the guests.

Every detail, big and small, was written down in there.

I'd stayed up half the night, night after night, to get this wedding ready.

And he knew all of it.

Asher looked at the notebook in my hand and let out a helpless sigh.

"Josie, however nice it sounds in your head, it's still just wishful thinking. It'll never actually work on the day."

I threw the notebook into the trash, but my fingertips were still trembling.

"So everything I put real thought into won't work? But whatever she tosses out off the top of her head will?"

Asher's face went cold in an instant.

"Paulette's more level-headed than you, she thinks about the big picture. She's put so much effort into these ideas. Isn't all of it for your sake?"

Paulette gave his sleeve a wronged little tug.

"Ash, it's fine, I don't mind being a little worn out, as long as Jo-Jo's happy."

"I'm the one who brought you two together in the first place, so this is the least I can do."

I laughed.

Right. Asher and I only met in the first place because of Paulette.

I'm an outdoor travel blogger. Once, hiking deep into the mountains, I lost the trail and got bitten by a snake.

I sat frozen where I was, too scared to move.

Just as I was about to give up hope,

Asher appeared like he'd dropped out of the sky.

He crossed to me in a few strides and held out his hand.

"Don't be scared. I'll get you out of here."

He carried me on his back for three hours, all the way to the hospital.

It was only later that I found out why he happened to find me that day.

Paulette had egged him on.

"Look, there's a pretty girl over there. Follow her quietly, who knows, maybe you'll get lucky."

Asher listened to her, and that was how we met.

After that he started pursuing me.

Knowing I stayed up late editing videos, he brought me late-night food every day, always something different.

Every holiday, roses he'd sent would pile up outside my door.

I'm allergic to roses, but every time I still put on a mask and carried the flowers inside, because I couldn't bear to waste his feelings.

Once we were together,

whenever we went out to eat, Asher would ask Paulette which restaurant first.

Our chat logs, he'd forward straight to Paulette for her to analyze.

Even the brand of pads I used during my period, he'd go and specially ask Paulette whether it was suitable.

...

Again and again I told Asher that our relationship was between the two of us and shouldn't drag in a third person.

But he'd just wrap his arms around me, all wounded.

"Josie, I don't understand how girls think, that's why I ask Paulette. I only want to give you the best, to make you happy."

I had nothing to say to that.

It felt like a thorn stuck in my throat, one I could neither spit out nor swallow down.

The wedding-planning company's air conditioning stabbed at my head in throbbing waves.

I looked up. Not far off, the two of them were cheek to cheek, murmuring over some scheme.

Paulette finished and covered her mouth, giggling. Asher nodded, then turned to look at me.

"Josie, Paulette just came up with a great idea. At the wedding, I'll have the groomsmen dress up as mummies and dance for you."

There was a hint of expecting praise in it, the look of a man sure this would finally satisfy me.

When he saw my expression was still cold,

Asher's face turned ugly, and the impatience he'd been holding down for so long spilled out.

"What exactly do I have to do to make you happy?"

"The wedding suite's all decorated and you won't move in. We went to Paulette's hometown and you couldn't work up any interest the whole time."

"Can't you stop being so willful all the time? Stop throwing Paulette's good intentions back in her face."

I didn't say anything. I just looked at him quietly.

I only felt like I'd never known the man in front of me at all.

My head hurt more and more.

I couldn't be bothered to say anything else. I stood up and left.

Asher moved to come after me, but Paulette held him back.

"Don't rush. Listen to me, I have a way to make her back down..."

Asher stopped where he was and didn't follow.

I stepped out the doors of the wedding-planning company,

and the wave of heat that hit me was suffocating.

The thirty-fifth time.

Because of Paulette, the wedding I'd carefully planned was going to be packed with skulls and mummies.

I drew in a deep breath,

and suddenly thought of the old forest trail in Peru I'd longed for.

I took out my phone and booked the flight.

3: 3

When I got home, my phone pushed a "People you may know" suggestion.

My finger tapped the profile picture before I even thought about it.

It was Paulette Whitney.

I scrolled down, post after post,

and every one of them was about Asher.

I opened a text post. It read:

"Went hiking with my Ashy today. He saw a pretty girl and completely froze up, so I dared him to go talk to her. And this idiot actually did it!"

"So annoyed. Ashy told me he's into that girl, the one named Josie Locke! What's so great about her? One look and you can tell she's a total fake."

"At least Ashy listens to me on everything. I deliberately taught him how to chase herhad him show up at her place in the middle of the night with late-night food so he could get close to her, hehe~"

"I also found out this Josie girl is allergic to roses, so I told him to give her roses on purpose. Can you believe she actually took them? Shameless. She just wants my Ashy because he's good-looking, from a good family, young and already pulling in a few million a year. A man that impressivehow could some little blogger ever deserve him?"

"They want to move in together? No way. I made sure he moved into Josie's little apartment instead, because the only person who gets to sleep in the bed at Ashy's big place is me! Josie thinks she's moving in there? Not a chance."

...

I kept scrolling,

and there in the comments was a reply from Asher: "Naughty little troublemaker, you're too cute when you're bad!"

Paulette had replied: love-you.jpg

My hands shook as I read to the end,

every word making it harder to breathe.

Those roses I'd carried inside while breaking out in red welts

drove straight back into my chest in that moment.

Someone else in the comments had said: "This Josie girl seems kind of innocent, though."

Paulette had shot back: "Innocent my ass! Ashy and I have known each other for twenty-eight years. She's just some homewrecker who showed up out of nowhere!"

Before I got together with Asher, I made a point of asking about his relationship with Paulette.

He kept insisting, over and over, that she was just a neighbor he'd grown up with.

That if there'd been anything between them, he wouldn't have had Paulette helping him chase another girl.

I believed him.

But for the five years after that, Paulette was always there, right between us.

Everywhere.

I turned off my phone, packed up every last one of Asher's things in one go, and dumped them at the entryway.

I'd just finished when he walked in.

He saw the luggage piled by the door, and a flicker of panic crossed his face before it settled back into the same tired look he always wore.

"Upset again? I'll ask Paulette in a bit, see how we're supposed to smooth things over with you this time."

I looked at him coldly and said, meaning every word,

"Don't bother. We're breaking up. Please take your things and go."

He pinched the bridge of his nose to keep his temper down and pulled a bouquet of roses out from behind his back.

"Stop it. I bought these especially for you."

One touch of roses and I break out in a rash all over.

He knew. He'd seen it. He'd just never cared.

Back when an onion made Paulette's eyes water, Asher fussed over it endlessly and made sure onions never came near her again.

"Give them to Paulette."

I shoved the bouquet away hard.

Asher frowned, his anger finally boiling over.

"What does this have to do with Paulette?"

"Even when you're being unreasonable, Paulette and I have gone out of our way to keep you happy. I honestly don't know what else you could possibly want."

The words had barely left his mouth when his phone rang.

Paulette's voice came through from the other end:

"Ashy, is Josie making a fuss about breaking up with you? Come over to my place. I'll teach you a few tricksthey'll come in handy for handling women later on."

He hung up, picked up his car keys, and said to me, flat and cold,

"Something's come up with Paulette. I'm going over. You take some time and calm down."

"When I get back, we'll talk about the wedding."

The moment he left, I threw the roses out the door.

I sat down and checked my flight. The day it took off was the exact day of our wedding.

4: 4

Night fell. I curled up on the couch and drifted off.

Half-asleep, I heard the lock rattle.

I figured it was Asher coming back for his things, so I just lay there without moving.

But the sounds at the door kept getting stranger.

The keypad beeps came fast and thick, one after another,

and then that string of wrong password tones tightened something cold in my chest.

I crept to the door.

I looked through the peephole.

No one there.

And right then, the power cut out. Total darkness.

The knocking started, sudden and hard.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

I grabbed my phone and called my emergency contact.

Asher picked up fast. When he heard me crying,

the other end went quiet for a few seconds,

and then Paulette burst out laughing:

"See? I told you she can't do without you. My idea worked, didn't it!"

"Yeah. Real clever little thing."

The door opened.

Asher and Paulette were standing there.

Paulette pointed at me, laughing so hard she could barely stand.

Asher stepped forward and took my hand.

"Jo-Jo, look at the state of you. What would you do without me? Still going to talk to me about breaking up?"

For one moment, I felt like a clown in a circus.

I was shaking all over, tears pouring down my face.

"Get out! Both of you, get out!" I shoved at them with everything I had, forcing them toward the door.

I'd told Asher before.

A few years ago, a strange man forced his way into my home.

He knocked me out with a club and dragged me into the bathroom.

Thank God a neighbor called the police in time and saved me, or it would have been unthinkable.

But it left a shadow on me that never went away.

My migraines started then.

Thirty-six times now.

On purpose.

He did it on purpose.

They did it on purpose.

The two of them were still saying something in front of me.

I watched their mouths open and close,

then a spike of pain split my head, and I passed out.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital.

Asher was keeping watch by the bed. When he saw me wake, the deep line between his brows finally eased:

"Jo-Jo, you're awake."

I turned my face away, refusing to look at him.

He didn't get angry. He just stayed with me.

Two full days and nights, never leaving my side.

Every day Asher had people bring in all kinds of nourishing meals.

Before each meal he'd stroke my head:

"Jo-Jo, I'll take care of you for the rest of your life."

I just kept my head down and ate. Getting my strength back was what mattered most.

Paulette came to the room every day to go over wedding details with Asher.

They deliberately kept their voices low and vague, then told me it was so I could relax and be the bride.

I nodded faintly and said nothing.

On the wedding day,

I took a cab straight to the airport.

Someone heard it was an influencer's wedding and went to the venue to livestream it.

Waiting at the gate, I happened to scroll into the stream,

and saw the whole place done in black, skulls and mummy props scattered across the floor, dim and oppressive.

A guest was muttering: "This doesn't look like a wedding. It looks more like a funeral..."

The person beside her quickly covered her mouth, signaling her not to say things like that.

On the screen,

Asher stood on the stage, eyes full of anticipation, watching the entrance.

Then all the lights went out.

Everyone waited quietly for the bride to enter.

The doors slowly drew open,

and the instant the spotlight lit up what stood beyond them,

the whole crowd screamed,

and the anticipation on Asher's face turned in a heartbeat into disbelieving shock...