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. Cute, though,” one of my bridesmaids chimed in, looking at the bouquet.

I smiled to myself. Mark wasn’t usually the type to do big romantic gestures, but maybe he was just feeling emotional and sentimental. I reached for the note, expecting something like “I can’t wait to marry you” or “Tomorrow’s going to be perfect.”

But it didn’t say that.

All it said was: I don’t.

My breath caught in my throat. I stared at the words, turning the card over like there had to be something else — some explanation. A part of my brain kept thinking it was a joke. A terrible, cruel joke.

Kelly saw my face and snatched the card from me. “What the hell does this mean?” she said, her voice rising. “I don’t? Is he kidding?”

I didn’t answer. I just stood there, numb, as the panic slowly crawled its way up my spine.

“I… I have to call him,” I whispered, already fumbling for my phone. I called him once. No answer. Twice. Nothing. The third time, I got sent straight to voicemail.

Now, my heart was racing. Kelly was also pacing, swearing under her breath, but I was frozen. What the hell was going on? Six years. No signs of cold feet. We were happy. We were fine. I texted him. No response. That’s when it hit me — this wasn’t a mistake.

By midnight, I was unraveling. My bridesmaids did their best to calm me down, tossing around ideas like, “Maybe it’s a misunderstanding” or “What if it’s some sick prank?”

But come on, who would pull something like this the night before my wedding? Finally, I couldn’t take it. I needed answers.

“I’m going to his place,” I said, throwing on a hoodie and jeans like I was preparing for battle.

Kelly grabbed her purse, shaking her head. “You’re not going alone. Let’s go.”

The drive to Mark’s apartment felt like it took hours. My mind was running through every worst-case scenario — what if he was calling off the wedding? Kelly kept glancing over at me, probably worried I was going to break down at any second.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice soft but tense.

“I just… I don’t know, Kel. What if…” My voice cracked, and I quickly bit down on my lip.

“Don’t even think like that,” she interrupted. “We’re going to get to the bottom of this. Maybe it’s just a stupid mix-up.”

I nodded, but I didn’t believe it. Not really.

When we pulled up to Mark’s apartment, his car was parked outside. Relief mixed with dread. He was home. There was no way he could avoid this conversation.

We walked up to his door, and I banged on it with everything I had. After what felt like an eternity, the door finally creaked open, and there he was — Mark, looking groggy and confused. But he wasn’t alone. His brother, Eric, stood behind him, frowning.

“Carly?” Mark looked at me like I’d just crashed a private party. “What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night.”

I didn’t say a word at first. I just shoved the note in his face. “What. Is. This?” My voice was shaking, my hands trembling.

Mark blinked, taking the note from my hand. He scanned it quickly, his brows furrowing. “Wait, what? I don’t…” He glanced up at me, looking completely lost. “I didn’t send this, Carly. I swear, I don’t know what this is.”

Eric stepped forward, looking from me to Mark. “Hold on. What’s going on? What’s with the flowers?”

Kelly jumped in before I could respond. “Someone sent her a bouquet with a note that says ‘I don’t.’ The night before your wedding. What kind of sick joke is this?”

Mark shook his head, his eyes wide. “I didn’t send any flowers. Carly, I swear on my life, I don’t know where this came from.”

I stared at him, trying to read his face, looking for any hint of guilt. But all I saw was confusion. My mind was racing. “Mark, who else could’ve sent it? Who would do something like this?”

Eric sighed, crossing his arms. “Look, maybe someone’s screwing with you guys. I mean, people do dumb stuff when weddings are involved. Could be a prank.”