He Gave Her My Bridal Bed

Summary

The renovation of our townhouse was entirely finished, save for one final piece: our custom-built California king.

When it failed to arrive by late afternoon, I walked down to the neighborhood freight office to track the shipment. Finding nothing, I texted my fiancé with a teasing smile:

"Babe, the bed’s delayed. Looks like we’re camping out on the hardwood tonight."

He didn't reply.

Instead, the dispatcher at the desk glanced up from his terminal, his brow furrowed in genuine confusion. "Ma'am, that delivery cleared at nine this morning. A Mr. Max Reed signed for it in person."