“Do you mind if I wear your wedding dress? It’s not like you’ll need it anymore,” her friend smirked.
“It looks perfect on you. The best one you’ve tried so far,” said Jane, scrutinising her with a critical eye.
“She’s right. It suits you beautifully. Just needs the hem taken up a touch and a slight adjustment at the waist,” the bridal shop assistant chimed in. “Shall I bring the veil?”
“I wasn’t planning on wearing one,” Emily hesitated.
“Go on, just not too long,” Jane insisted, watching as her friend twirled in front of the mirror, the full skirt swaying around her legs. Emily could already picture Anton’s awestruck face when he saw her in the dress.
The shop assistant returned, holding out a delicate tulle veil with practised ease. With a quick motion, she pinned it into Emily’s hair.
“You could walk down the aisle right now,” the assistant smiled at her reflection. “So, what do you think? Taking it?”
“What do you reckon?” Emily turned to Jane.
“It’s your wedding, your call,” her friend replied, failing to mask the flicker of envy in her eyes.
“Yes, we’ll take it.” Emily lifted the hem, stepping down from the platform, but the assistant stopped her.
“Let me fetch the seamstress.”
Emily pretended to sigh but secretly relished the extra moments in the dress.
On their way home, the girls cut through the park.
They’d been friends since school. Jane was all sharp angles—tall, with a long, straight nose and a face that never quite softened. She’d always envied Emily’s delicate features, her slightly upturned nose, the dimples in her cheeks. And more than anything, she envied Emily’s normal family. No shouting, no drinking. Jane’s father had died two years ago from cheap vodka. She’d hoped life with her mum would settle, but instead, her mother had grown twitchy, irritable.
Emily had graduated from a prestigious university, landed a job as a translator at a top firm. Jane, after scraping through a distance-learning biology degree, worked in an environmental lab—a job she hated, another reason to resent Emily.
And now this. Emily, of all people, getting married. Anton meant nothing to Jane, but the fact burned her. She’d had boyfriends, but none had ever led to a wedding. Jane dreamed of a lavish white dress—and more than that, an escape from her mother. What made Emily so special? Why did luck always favour her?
“You’re not listening to me at all,” Emily tugged her arm.
“What? Sorry, what did you say?” Jane had been miles away.
“I said I’ll give you my bouquet at the wedding—it’s good luck. You’ll be next!” Emily pointed to an elderly woman selling jewellery on a bench. “I noticed her yesterday but was in a rush. Let’s have a look.”
“Why bother with cheap trinkets?” Jane scoffed, eyeing the display of tatty, sun-glinting baubles that no one ever bought.
“Look at this ring!” Emily twisted a tiny silver band with a white stone between her fingers. “Can I try it on?”
“No charge for trying. But I won’t sell it to you,” the woman said abruptly.
“Why not?” Emily frowned, reluctant to let it go.
“You’ll have a wedding band soon. Mixing metals is bad taste,” the woman chided. “This, though—” she rummaged, then held up a polished metal pendant on a thin chain, gleaming like a mirror. “This will bring you happiness.”
“She’s already happy,” Jane cut in.
“And you’re jealous,” the woman shot back, giving Jane a sharp look.
Emily dug out a tenner from her purse. “It’s all I’ve got.”
The woman waved her off. “Keep your money. Wear it in good health.”
As they walked away, Emily fastened the pendant around her neck. “Well?”
“Quirky,” Jane said flatly—though she liked it too.
A week later, Emily dashed into the bridal shop on her lunch break to collect the altered dress. It fitted perfectly. The assistant packed it into a large box.
“It’s huge! I can’t take this back to work,” Emily flustered.
“Get a taxi, or leave it here till this evening.”
She left the box, thanked the assistant, and hurried back to the office. She called Anton repeatedly from work—but no answer. He was a programmer, often working from home, but he never switched his phone off. Clients called constantly.
Unease gnawed at her. She left early and went straight to Anton’s flat. The door swung open—but it wasn’t Anton. It was Jane, wearing his shirt. The pendant gleamed on her chest.
“What are you doing here?” Emily’s voice wavered. “Where’s Anton?”
“Worn out. Asleep,” Jane smirked.
Emily shoved past her. Anton lay on the sofa, bare-chested, a blanket draped over his legs.
“Anton!” she shouted. His lashes fluttered, but he didn’t wake.
“Convinced?” Jane said behind her.
Emily spun around. “How could you?” Tears spilled as she shoved Jane aside and ran.
By the time her mum got home, Emily was curled on the sofa, sobbing. She spilled everything—the wedding was off.
“Don’t rush, love. We’ll sort this out,” her mum soothed.
“Sort what? I saw them!”
“I never liked that friend of yours. But talk to Anton.”
“Never!” Emily wailed.
Yet they did meet. Anton waited outside her work the next morning.
“Em, listen. I don’t love Jane. I don’t even know how it happened. She came over, asked for help finding something online—last thing I remember is drinking tea with her.”
“That’s it? You don’t remember sleeping with her?” Emily tried to push past, but he gripped her wrist.
“I don’t remember anything. I love you. Please—”
She yanked free and ran.
She missed him but couldn’t forgive. Then Jane returned, announcing she was pregnant—she and Anton were getting married.
“Do you mind if I wear your wedding dress? It’s not like you’ll need it,” Jane sneered.
Three weeks later, Emily watched from her window as a ribbon-festooned car pulled up next door. Anton stepped out, glancing toward her house. For a second, she thought he saw her. She flinched back, heart hammering, cheeks wet.
When she looked again, the car was still there. Her mum was helping Jane into the back seat, holding up the voluminous skirt—Emily’s wedding dress. Anton must’ve already been inside.
Emily choked back a sob, fled to her room, and collapsed onto the bed, weeping. Life blurred into a fog of disbelief. She remembered taking off the pendant from the park woman, tucking it away. Jane must’ve stolen it—just like she’d stolen Emily’s happiness.
The newlyweds moved into Anton’s flat. Emily was glad she wouldn’t have to see them—until she bumped into Jane’s mum at the shops.
“Hello, love. How are you?”
“Fine, Mrs. Harper.”
“Jane’s having a boy. Nasty business, what she did. But they’re making it work. You should forgive her—”
“Don’t.” Emily hurried off. She couldn’t bear to hear about Jane and Anton’s happiness.
Before New Year’s, Emily shopped for gifts, swept up in holiday cheer. Laden with bags, she nearly collided with Jane pushing a pram by their building.
“Hi!” Jane beamed as if they were still best friends. “Been shopping? I never get round to it. Little Vic’s so clingy. You should see how he—”
“Sorry, I’ve got to go.” Emily fumbled for her keys, ignoring Jane’s cheerful “Happy New Year!” as she escaped inside, swallowing tears.
After the holidays, she spotted Anton a few times with the pram—visiting Jane’s mum, maybe. He walked hunched, unsmiling.
Then spring arrived. Sun melted icicles, birds sang. Emily was smiling too, coming home from work, when an ambulance pulled away from Jane’s building. Anton stood there. They stared at each other before Emily managed, “Was that Mrs. Harper?”
“Heart attack.”
He looked older, thinner. For a second, it was like none of it had happened—they were just Emily and Anton again.
“I’ve got to run. Vic’s alone,” he said but didn’t move.
The words snapped her back. “Where’s Jane?”
“Jane and I… didn’t work out. The baby set her off. She left us.”
Emily’s throat tightened. “She abandoned him?”
“Her mum took Vic in. I visit every day. I should go—he’ll be crying.” He turned and ran.
After that, Emily scanned the park for Anton and the pram—but never saw him.
A month later,One sunny afternoon, as Emily pushed a pram through the park, Anton turned the corner with little Vic on his shoulders, and their eyes met—this time, without any need for words.
