“Do you mind if I wear your wedding dress? It’s not like you’ll be needing it anymore,” her friend smirked.
“I think it’s perfect—the best one you’ve tried on,” said Jane, eyeing her critically.
“Your friend’s right. It suits you beautifully. Just needs a slight hem and some adjustments at the waist,” remarked the bridal shop assistant. “Shall I bring the veil?”
“I wanted to go without one,” said Daisy hesitantly.
“Bring it—just not too long,” Jane insisted, watching her friend twirl before the mirror. The full skirt swayed gracefully around Daisy’s legs. She could already picture Anthony’s delighted expression when he saw her in it.
The assistant carried out a delicate tulle veil with solemn care, pinning it effortlessly into Daisy’s hair.
“Ready for the registry office right now,” the assistant smiled at Daisy’s reflection. “Well? Will you take it?”
“What do you think?” Daisy turned to Jane.
“You’re the one getting married—it’s your choice,” her friend replied, failing to hide the jealous glint in her eye.
“Yes, we’ll take it,” Daisy lifted the hem, ready to step down, but the assistant stopped her.
“Let me fetch the seamstress.”
Daisy sighed playfully, secretly glad for a few more moments in the gown.
On their way home, they cut through the park. They’d been friends since school. Jane, tall and sharp-featured with a long, straight nose, had always envied Daisy’s soft looks—her dainty upturned nose, dimpled cheeks—and even more, her stable family. Jane’s father had died two years prior from bad whiskey. She’d hoped for peace with her mother afterward, but instead, the woman became even more erratic.
Daisy had graduated from a prestigious university and worked as a translator for a major firm. Jane, after a remote biology degree, laboured in an environmental testing facility, hating every minute—another reason to resent Daisy.
And now this mouse was getting married. Anthony meant nothing to Jane, but the fact burned her. She’d dated plenty, yet none led to a wedding. She dreamed of a grand white dress—more than that, she dreamed of escape. Why did Daisy, of all people, get everything?
“You’re not listening to me at all,” Daisy tugged Jane’s arm.
“What? What did you say?” Jane had been lost in thought.
“I said I’ll toss the bouquet to you—you’ll be next to marry. Look, that woman sells jewellery. I noticed her yesterday but was in a rush. Let’s take a look,” Daisy pulled her toward the bench.
“Why bother with cheap trinkets?” Jane grimaced at the elderly woman, her tray of glittering baubles ignored by passersby.
“Look at this ring,” Daisy turned a tiny silver band with a white stone in her fingers. “Can I try it?”
“No charge to try,” the woman said, “but I won’t sell it to you.”
“Why not?” Daisy frowned, reluctant to let go.
“You’ll wear a wedding band soon. Mixing metals is poor taste,” the woman chided. “Here—” She sifted through the tray. “Try this.” She held up a polished pendant on a fine chain, its surface gleaming like a mirror.
“Dais, why waste money on tat?” Jane sneered.
“It’s unusual. How much?” Daisy ignored her.
“Whatever you can spare. Take it—it’ll bring you happiness.”
“She’s already happy,” Jane cut in.
“And you’re envious,” the woman shot back.
Daisy rummaged in her purse and handed over three twenty-pound notes.
“That’s all I’ve got,” she admitted.
“Keep it. Wear it in good health.”
Daisy fastened the chain around her neck as they walked away.
“So?” she asked.
“Different,” Jane replied flatly—though she liked it too.
A week later, Daisy collected her altered dress on her lunch break. Satisfied with the fit, she left it boxed at the shop for later. At work, she tried calling Anthony—no answer. He was a programmer who worked from home but never switched off his phone; clients needed him.
Uneasy, she left early and went to his flat. Pressing the buzzer, she expected Anthony—but Jane opened the door, wearing his shirt, the pendant glinting at her throat.
“What are you doing here?” Daisy blinked. “Where’s Anthony?”
“Exhausted. Sleeping.” Jane smirked.
Daisy shoved past her. Anthony lay on the sofa, bare-chested, a blanket over his waist.
“Anthony!” she shouted. His lashes fluttered, but he didn’t wake.
“Convinced now?” Jane said behind her.
Daisy whirled. “How could you?” Tears spilled as she fled. At home, she crumpled on the sofa, sobbing into her knees. She told her mother everything—the wedding was off.
“Don’t be hasty,” her mum soothed. “Talk to him.”
“I saw—!”
“I never liked that friend of yours. But hear him out.”
“Never!”
Yet they met. Anthony waited outside her work the next morning.
“Dais, listen. I don’t love Jane. She came over asking for help with something online. The last thing I remember is drinking tea with her—”
“And then what? You don’t remember sleeping with her?” She tried to push past, but he caught her wrist.
“I remember nothing. I love you—”
She wrenched free and ran.
She missed him but couldn’t forgive. Then Jane announced she was pregnant—they were marrying.
“You don’t mind if I wear your dress, do you?” Jane taunted.
Three weeks later, Daisy watched a ribbon-adorned car pull up next door. Anthony stepped out, glancing toward her window. For a heartbeat, she thought he saw her. She recoiled, heart pounding.
Peeking again, she saw her mother helping Jane into the car, fussing with the voluminous skirt—her skirt. Anthony must’ve been inside already.
Daisy stifled a cry, fled to her room, and wept. Life blurred into disbelief. She’d taken off the pendant from the park woman—left it in her jewellery box. Jane had stolen that too, like her happiness.
The newlyweds moved into Anthony’s flat. Daisy avoided them—until she bumped into Jane’s mum at the shops.
“Hello, love. How are you?”
“Fine, Aunt Louise.”
“Jane’s having a boy. She treated you badly, but they’re making it work. Forgive her—”
“No,” Daisy rushed off.
Before New Year’s, she shopped for festive trinkets. At her doorstep, she collided with Jane pushing a pram.
“Hey! Been ages. Shopping spree?” Jane nodded at her bags. “I’ve no time—little Victor’s relentless. He’s so funny when—”
“Sorry, I’ve got to go,” Daisy fumbled with her keys.
“Happy New Year!” Jane called.
Daisy didn’t look back.
Winter passed. In March, spring arrived—melting icicles, chirping birds, thawing hearts. One evening, an ambulance idled outside Jane’s mum’s. Anthony stood there, spotting Daisy.
“Hi. Aunt Louise—is she alright?”
“Heart attack,” he said.
He looked thinner, older. For a moment, Daisy forgot—no wife, no betrayal—just them.
“I should go. Victor’s alone,” he said, not moving. His words snapped her back.
“Where’s Jane?” she whispered.
“Jane—we didn’t work out. The baby irritated her. She left. Her mum took Victor. I visit daily.” He turned away. “He’ll be crying—”
Daisy searched for him in the park after that—but he never came.
A month later, a knock woke her on a Saturday. “Anthony’s here,” her mum whispered.
Daisy scrambled up, fingers fumbling with buttons. In the kitchen, Anthony stood as she entered. Her mum slipped out.
“Dais, I know it’s late—but you should know. Victor isn’t mine. Jane tricked me. Nothing happened that night. She asked for help—I was busy. She brought tea. Then—blackout. Later, she claimed it was mine. What could I do? I didn’t remember.”
Daisy listened, unblinking.
“She planned it. Already pregnant—set it up so you’d see us. We fought constantly. She snapped at Victor like he was nothing. Then she ran off with someone else.”
“And Victor? How d’you know?”
“Before she left, we argued. She screamed he wasn’t mine. I got a test.”
“What now?”
“Nothing. He’s my son.” Anthony’s eyes softened. “Bright little thing—”
They reunited. Weekends in the park, birthdays—together.
“But what if Jane comes back?” her mum fretted.
“She won’t. She signed away her rights. Moved abroad with some bloke.” Daisy touched theAnd as Daisy looked at Anthony cradling Victor in the spring sunlight, she realized some love stories are simply meant to survive betrayal, because the heart knows where it truly belongs.
