“Do you mind if I wear your wedding dress? It’s not like you’ll need it anymore,” her friend smirked.
“It’s perfect—the best one you’ve tried on so far,” said Jane, eyeing her critically.
“Your friend’s right. It suits you beautifully. We’ll just need to adjust the hem and take it in at the waist,” said the bridal shop assistant. “Shall I bring the veil?”
“I wasn’t planning on a veil,” Daisy flustered.
“Bring it—just not too long,” Jane said, watching as her friend twirled before the mirror, the full skirt swaying like a bell around her legs. Daisy could already picture Anton’s awestruck face when he saw her in it.
The assistant returned, ceremoniously holding out a delicate tulle veil. With a deft motion, she pinned it into Daisy’s hair.
“Ready for the registry office right now,” the assistant smiled at her reflection. “Well? Will you take it?”
“What do you think?” Daisy turned to Jane.
“You’re the one getting married—it’s your decision,” Jane replied, a flicker of envy in her eyes that she couldn’t quite hide.
“Yes, we’ll take it,” Daisy said, lifting the hem to step down, but the assistant stopped her.
“Let me fetch the tailor.”
Daisy sighed dramatically, secretly glad to stay in the dress a little longer.
On their way home, the two walked through the park. They’d been friends since school. Jane was tall and angular, with sharp features and a long, straight nose. She’d always envied Daisy’s delicate upturned nose, the dimples on her rosy cheeks—and, more than anything, Daisy’s normal parents. They didn’t drink, didn’t fight. Jane’s father had died two years ago from bad vodka. She’d hoped life would settle then, but her mother had only grown more bitter.
Daisy had graduated from a prestigious university and worked as a translator for a top firm. Jane, after scraping through a distance biology degree, hated her job at an environmental lab—another reason to resent her friend.
And now Daisy was getting married. Anton meant nothing to Jane, but the fact burned her. She’d dated, but none of it led to a wedding. She dreamed of a lavish white gown—and, more than that, of escaping her mother. What made Daisy so special? Why did luck always favour her?
“You’re not even listening,” Daisy tugged her arm.
“Hm? What did you say?” Jane had been lost in thought.
“I said I’m throwing the bouquet to you at the wedding—you’ll be next!” Daisy dragged her toward a bench where an elderly woman sold trinkets. “Come on, let’s look.”
“Why bother with cheap jewellery?” Jane eyed the display sceptically.
“Look at this ring!” Daisy held up a tiny band with a white stone. “Can I try it?”
“No charge to try,” the woman said. “But I won’t sell it to you.”
“Why not?” Daisy frowned, clutching it.
“You’ll wear a wedding band soon. Mixing metals is poor taste,” the woman chided. “Try this instead.” She handed Daisy a polished metal pendant on a thin chain, its surface gleaming like a mirror.
“Dash, why waste money on junk?” Jane sneered.
“It’s unique. How much?” Daisy ignored her.
“Whatever you can spare. It’ll bring you happiness.”
“She’s already happy,” Jane cut in.
“And you’re jealous,” the woman said sharply.
Daisy handed over a few pounds—all she had.
“Wear it in good health,” the woman smiled.
As they walked away, Daisy fastened the pendant around her neck. “Well?”
“Different,” Jane said flatly—though she liked it too.
A week later, Daisy collected her altered dress. The shop packed it into a bulky box.
“I can’t take this to work!” she groaned.
“Take a cab or leave it here till evening.”
She left it, thanking the assistant, then called Anton repeatedly from the office. No answer. Unusual—he always kept his phone on for clients.
Her stomach knotted. She left early and rushed to his flat. When the door opened, Jane stood there wearing his shirt—the pendant glinting on her chest.
“What are you doing here? Where’s Anton?” Daisy’s voice shook.
“Worn out. Sleeping,” Jane smirked.
Daisy shoved past her. Anton lay on the sofa, bare-chested, a blanket over his legs.
“Anton!” she shouted. His lashes fluttered, but he didn’t wake.
“Convinced?” Jane said behind her.
Daisy spun. “How could you?” She fled, tears blinding her.
At home, she crumpled onto the sofa. Her mother listened, then urged caution.
“I saw everything!” Daisy sobbed.
But she agreed to meet Anton outside her work the next morning.
“Dash, listen. I don’t love Jane. She came over, asked for help online… The last thing I remember is drinking tea with her.”
“That’s it? You don’t remember sleeping with her?” She tried to push past, but he caught her wrist.
“I remember nothing. I love you. Please—”
She wrenched free and ran.
She missed him but couldn’t forgive. Then Jane announced her pregnancy—they’d marry.
“Mind if I wear your dress? You won’t need it,” Jane taunted.
Three weeks later, Daisy watched from her window as a car decked in ribbons pulled up next door. Anton stepped out, glancing toward her house. For a second, she thought he looked straight at her. She jerked back, heart pounding.
When she looked again, her mother was helping Jane into the car, holding up the full skirt—Daisy’s wedding dress.
She collapsed onto her bed, sobbing. Life blurred into numbness. Then she remembered—the pendant. She’d taken it off and tucked it away. Jane must’ve stolen it… just like she’d stolen her happiness.
The newlyweds moved into Anton’s flat. Daisy avoided them, but she couldn’t escape Jane’s mother. They bumped into each other at the shops.
“Hello, Daisy. How are you?”
“Fine, Mrs. Lowe.”
“Jane’s having a boy. She treated you badly, but… they’re managing. Forgive her—”
“Don’t.” Daisy hurried off.
Before New Year’s, while shopping for gifts, she nearly collided with Jane pushing a pram.
“Hi! Been a while,” Jane chirped, as if nothing had happened. “Out shopping? I’ve barely had time—”
“Excuse me.” Daisy fumbled with her keys, ignoring Jane’s festive farewell.
After the holidays, she spotted Anton in the park, head down, pushing the pram. It hurt to see him.
Then, in March, spring arrived. One evening, an ambulance stood outside Jane’s mother’s building. Anton stood there, hollow-eyed.
“Hello,” Daisy managed. “Mrs. Lowe—is she alright?”
“Heart attack,” he said.
He’d aged, grown thinner. For a moment, it felt like before—just the two of them again.
“I should go. Left Vicky alone,” he said, but didn’t move.
“Where’s Jane?” Her throat tightened.
“Didn’t work out. He irritated her… She left us. Mum’s looking after him.” He turned, then paused. “She planned it all, Daisy. The tea… I blacked out. She was already pregnant—not mine. I didn’t know.”
She searched his face. “And Vicky?”
“He’s mine. I won’t abandon him.” His eyes softened speaking of the boy.
Weeks later, Anton knocked on her door.
“I had to tell you. Vicky’s not biologically mine, but—”
“She signed away her rights?”
“Sent the papers. Left with some bloke abroad.” Daisy’s fingers brushed the pendant at her neck—somehow returned to her, like happiness, like Anton’s love.
Not magic, just hearts meant to be. Jane had trapped him, stolen him—but not their bond.
Life isn’t smooth. Mistakes happen. But love, real love, finds its way back.
