“Do you mind if I wear your wedding dress? You won’t need it anymore,” her friend smirked.
“I think it’s perfect. The best one you’ve tried on,” said Jane, scrutinising her with a critical eye.
“Your friend’s right. It suits you beautifully. Just needs the hem taken up 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,” Daisy hesitated.
“Bring it—just not too long,” Jane interjected, watching her friend twirl before the mirror. The full skirt swayed around her legs like a bell. Daisy could already picture Anton’s awestruck eyes when he saw her in it.
The assistant solemnly carried out a delicate tulle veil, pinning it deftly into Daisy’s hair.
“Ready for the registry office right now,” the assistant beamed at Daisy’s reflection. “So, will you take it?”
“What do you think?” Daisy turned to Jane.
“You’re the one getting married—it’s your decision,” Jane replied, unable to hide the flicker of envy in her gaze.
“Yes, we’ll take it,” Daisy lifted the skirt, stepping off the pedestal, but the assistant stopped her.
“I’ll fetch the tailor.”
Daisy sighed theatrically, secretly pleased to linger in the dress a little longer.
On their way home, the friends cut through the square. They’d been close since school. Jane was tall, angular, with sharp features and a long, straight nose. She’d always envied Daisy’s looks—her petite, slightly upturned nose, the dimples in her plump cheeks—and, even more, her stable family. Daisy’s parents didn’t drink or argue. Jane’s father had died two years earlier from counterfeit vodka. She’d hoped life with her mum would settle, but instead, her mother had grown irritable and erratic.
Daisy had graduated from a prestigious university and worked as a translator for a major firm. Jane, after a distance-learning biology degree, laboured in an environmental testing lab—a job she loathed, another reason for resentment.
And now this mouse was getting married. Anton meant nothing to Jane, but the fact gnawed at her. She’d dated, but never close to marriage. Jane dreamed of a grand white dress—and, more than that, escaping her mother. Why did Daisy, of all people, have all the luck?
“You’re not listening at all,” Daisy tugged her arm.
“Hmm? What did you say?” Jane had been lost in thought.
“I said I’ll toss the bouquet to you, and soon you’ll be next to marry. Look—that woman sells jewellery. I noticed her yesterday but was in a rush. Let’s see.” Daisy pulled Jane toward the bench.
“Why do you need cheap trinkets?” Jane resisted, eyeing the elderly woman with scepticism. A tray of glittering baubles lay before her, ignored by passersby.
“Look at this ring!” Daisy turned a delicate band with a white stone in her fingers. “Can I try it?”
“No charge for trying. But I won’t sell it to you,” the woman said suddenly.
“Why?” Daisy frowned, reluctant to let go.
“Soon you’ll wear a wedding band. Mixing metals is bad taste,” the woman chided. “Try this instead.” She handed Daisy a polished pendant on a fine chain—sleek, mirror-like, catching the light beautifully.
“Dais, why bother with tat?” Jane sneered.
“It’s unusual. How much?” Daisy ignored her.
“Whatever you can spare. Take it—it’ll bring you happiness.”
“She’s happy enough already,” Jane muttered.
“And you resent it,” the woman shot back with a sharp look.
Daisy rummaged in her purse and held out twenty pounds.
“It’s all I’ve got,” she said apologetically.
“Keep it. Wear it well.” The woman smiled.
No sooner had they left than Daisy fastened the chain around her neck.
“Well?” she asked.
“Different,” Jane answered 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 to retrieve later. At work, she called Anton repeatedly—no answer. Odd, for a freelance programmer who always kept his phone on.
Uneasy, she left early and went to his flat. The door swung open—but it was Jane standing there, wearing Anton’s shirt, the pendant glinting at her throat.
“What are you doing here?” Daisy gaped. “Where’s Anton?”
“Exhausted. Sleeping.” Jane smirked.
Daisy shoved past. Anton lay on the sofa, bare-chested, a blanket draped over his legs.
“Anton!” she shouted. He stirred but didn’t wake.
“Convinced?” Jane sneered behind her.
Daisy whirled around. “How could you? Why?” Hot tears spilled as she fled.
At home, she crumpled on the sofa. When her mum returned, Daisy spilled everything—the wedding was off.
“Don’t rush. Talk to Anton,” her mum urged.
“I saw it with my own eyes!”
“I never trusted that girl. But hear him out.”
Daisy refused—until Anton intercepted her outside work days later.
“Dais, listen. I don’t love Jane. She came over, asked for help online. Last thing I remember is drinking tea with her. That’s it.”
“And then? You don’t remember sleeping with her?” She tried to push past, but he gripped her wrist.
“I remember nothing. I love you. Please—”
She wrenched free and ran.
She missed him but couldn’t forgive—until Jane announced she was pregnant. They’d marry.
“Don’t mind if I wear your dress, do you?” Jane taunted.
Three weeks later, Daisy watched from her window as a ribbon-festooned car pulled up next door. Anton stepped out, glancing toward her house. For a moment, she swore he looked right at her. She lurched back, heart hammering.
Peering out again, she saw her mum helping Jane into the car, holding up the voluminous skirt—Daisy’s skirt. Anton must’ve already been inside. A sob burst from her as she collapsed onto her bed.
Life blurred into numb disbelief. She’d taken off the pendant, tucked it away—yet Jane had stolen it, just like her happiness.
The newlyweds moved into Anton’s flat. Daisy avoided them, but Jane’s mum was unavoidable.
“Daisy, love. How are you?” the woman asked in the local shop.
“Fine, Auntie Lou.”
“Jane’s having a boy. Dirty trick she played, but they’re managing. Forgive her—”
“Don’t.” Daisy hurried away. She couldn’t bear to hear about their happiness.
Winter passed. By March, spring emerged—icicles melting, birds singing. Daisy walked home smiling, until an ambulance outside Jane’s mum’s building froze her in place. Anton stood there, hollow-eyed.
“Hi,” she managed. “Auntie Lou…?”
“Heart attack,” he said.
He’d aged, thinned. For a second, it felt like before—just the two of them.
“I should go. Left the baby alone,” he murmured, unmoving. The words shattered the moment.
“Jane?” she rasped.
“Jane… didn’t work out. The baby annoyed her. She left. Her mum took him. I visit daily.” He turned, jogging toward the house. Daisy watched him go.
After that, she searched for him in the park—but they never crossed paths.
Then, one Saturday morning, her doorbell rang. Anton stood there, tense.
“I know it’s late,” he blurted once they were alone. “But I had to explain. Victor—he’s not mine. Jane lied. Nothing happened that night. She asked for help, I made tea—next thing I knew, I was out cold. Later, she claimed it was mine. I didn’t remember, so I believed her.” He swallowed. “She admitted it before leaving. Said she trapped me. I did a test.”
“And now?”
“He’s still my son. Clever little thing…” His face softened.
They began meeting again—walks in the park, birthdays together.
“What if Jane comes back?” her mum fretted.
“She won’t. She signed over custody and divorce papers. Moved abroad with some bloke.” Daisy’s fingers brushed the pendant—now hers again.
But it wasn’t the pendant. Love had found its way back. Anton had been ensnared, yet their bond endured.
Life’s road is bumpy, especially when young. Mistakes happen. But love, when true, finds its way through betrayal and time.
