The Wedding Seat Mix-Up
A rom-com short story about two strangers assigned the same wedding seat, one stolen dessert, and an argument neither of them means.
Both invitation cards said Table Seven, Seat Four.
“I am the bride's cousin,” Meera said.
“I am the groom's college roommate,” Adil replied.
“That is not hereditary.”
“Neither is a chair.”
The wedding planner had vanished. Every other seat was occupied by relatives guarding handbags and opinions. Meera and Adil stood beside Seat Four while the first course arrived.
“We could share,” Adil suggested.
“The chair?”
“The identity. We are one extremely complicated guest.”
They sat in shifts. Meera ate starters while Adil stood. Adil ate dinner while Meera pretended to inspect the flowers. By dessert, both were hungry and furious with the seating chart.
Then Auntie Kavita approached with the expression of someone collecting gossip.
“Why are you two fighting?” she asked.
Adil answered before Meera could. “She refuses to admit the moon landing was real.”
Meera understood immediately. “Because the shadows are wrong.”
Auntie Kavita pulled up another chair. For twenty minutes, she explained lunar photography. When she left, they had gained a seat and lost all dignity.
“You weaponized my aunt,” Meera said.
“Our aunt. We are one guest.”
They stole an extra gulab jamun from Table Eight and escaped to the garden. Adil admitted he hated weddings because strangers always asked why he was single. Meera admitted she loved weddings but hated being seated beside men selected by committee.
“Technically, a spreadsheet selected me,” he said.
“Its judgment is under review.”
During the couple's first dance, the planner finally appeared.
“There are two Table Sevens,” she explained. “Garden and ballroom.”
Adil's real seat waited outside beside three retired professors. Meera's belonged inside beside Auntie Kavita.
“Problem solved,” Meera said.
Neither moved.
Adil turned their duplicated place card over and wrote a phone number.
“For the complaint process,” he said.
Meera added hers below it. “Joint investigation.”
A month later, they attended another wedding together. Their invitations placed them at different tables.
Adil arrived carrying a folding chair.
“Prepared,” he said.
Meera moved her place card beside his. “Still under review.”
They shared the chair only for the photograph.