I still remember the day we were in the bridal boutique, the air thick with the scent of perfume and the rustle of satin. Irene stared at the price tag of the wedding gown with eyes as wide as saucers, as if she could not believe the number staring back at her.
Are you out of your mind? That dress costs as much as a secondhand car! she exclaimed, the words tumbling out in disbelief.
Margaret, her best friend, twirled before the mirror, clutching the opulent train. Youre the one whos lost it, Irene. Do you really think Id marry anything that would make Stephen forget how to breathe? she snapped, her voice firm. A wedding only happens once in a lifetime.
Id like to think otherwise, Irene muttered, glancing at the £5,000 price tag. But honestly, Margaret, why spend so much? Stephen loves you, not the dress.
Margaret paused, her expression turning solemn. When my parents died, I learned how fleeting moments can be. I want this day to be flawless, so that my mum and dad, looking down from heaven, could be proud.
Irenes tone softened instantly; she had seen the grief behind Margarets bright smile ever since her parents were killed in a car crash three years earlier. She leaned in and hugged her, careful not to crumple the pricey gown.
If this is the dress you need, then its worth every penny, she whispered.
Margaret laughed, brushing a stray curl from her face. Stephen suggested we dip into our travel fund. He said Venice would still be there, but a bride in the perfect dress only gets one chance.
Irene smiled, thinking of Stephentall, always composed, with kind eyes and a shy grin. She and Margaret made a perfect pair: Margaret, fiery and impulsive; Stephen, steady and sensible.
Margaret, Im so happy, she murmured as the shop assistant disappeared to fetch the veil. Sometimes I cant believe it. Stephen is the best thing that ever happened to me.
After me, of course, Irene teased, drawing a laugh from Margaret.
Of course! By the way, shall we talk about the hen party? Two weeks left, Margaret said.
Everythings ready, replied Irene, who had taken on the entire organisation as maid of honour. A cosy cottage in the Lake District, a pool, a sauna, karaoke, and your seven closest girlfriends. No strippers, just as you asked.
Perfect, Margaret winked. Id hate for Jenny to miss itshe still cant see the colour white after her divorce.
For Jenny I have a special surprise, Irene replied, a grin playing on her lips.
The shop assistant returned, bearing a fan of lace veils, and the conversation turned to length, style, and fastening.
Irene drove home, exhausted but satisfied. Margaret finally chose her dress and accessories, leaving only the final wedding details to be smoothed out. She indulged in a hot bath, thinking of the upcoming weekends hen party.
A message chimed on her phone. Anne, another guest, wrote that she couldnt come; her son had suddenly developed a fever. What a pity, Irene muttered, sending wishes for a swift recovery. Her intuition warned her this wouldnt be the last cancellation, and indeed, later that morning, Susan called, apologising that work would keep her from attending.
Dont worry, Irene reassured her. The important thing is that well all be at the wedding.
By Friday evening, Irenes jeep, loaded with treats and drinks, rolled out of town. Of the seven invited friends, only four remained: Irene, Jenny, Katie, and Victoria. Margaret, however, was unfazed.
Fewer people, more fresh air, she declared from the front seat beside Irene. And more champagne for each of us!
The girls cheered. Jenny, the recently divorced friend for whom Irene had prepared a special surprise, already uncorked a bottle of sparkling wine and poured it into plastic cups.
To the bride! she cried. To the most beautiful, happiest, luckiest woman!
And to her wonderful groom! added Katie, who worked with Stephen at the construction firm. Any woman would be lucky with a man like him.
I wasnt that lucky, sighed Jenny. My ex turned out to be a scoundrel.
Not all men are the same, Irene replied gently. Stephen isnt.
Thats true, Margaret agreed. Sometimes I feel I dont deserve him. Yesterday he came home, lit candles, cooked dinner, opened a bottle of wine, and said, Youve been working so hard on the wedding, I want you to rest today.
Thats a man, Victoria said enviously. My boyfriend never even made an omelette in three years.
Their chatter drifted to the ageold debate over mens flaws and virtues as the jeep pulled up to a modest twostorey cottage on the lakes edge. The champagne bottle was empty, but spirits were high.
The rented cottage was spacious and homely. The ground floor boasted a large kitchenliving area opening onto a terrace with a heated plunge pool; upstairs were three bedrooms and a bathroom with a sauna.
Blimey, this is amazing! Margaret exclaimed, taking in the rooms. Youve outdone yourself, Irene!
Irene beamed. She had spent nearly a month hunting for the perfect spotscenic countryside, water, a place for a barbecue, and total privacy.
The evening began with cooking: salads, grilled meat, roasted potatoes. Jenny, surprisingly quiet, stayed mostly to herself, glancing at her phone and rarely joining the laughter.
Whats wrong? Irene asked softly when they gathered on the terrace.
Jenny shivered, as if pulled from deep thoughts. Nothing, just tired. Works hectic, and the baby is fussy.
If you need to talk, Im here, Irene said, squeezing Jennys hand, earning a faint smile in return.
As dinner progressed, the mood lifted. More champagne was uncorked, stories from university days resurfaced. Margaret, flushed with wine and attention, radiated joy.
Do you remember how we first met? she asked, scanning the faces. First year, dorm roomIrina with a guitar, Katie with a huge teddy bear
And me with three suitcases of clothes! Jenny laughed. We thought you were some posh snob.
Turns out you were just a shopaholic, Irene chimed.
Thanks to Jennys wardrobe we always went on dates in different outfits, Katie added. Remember our swap system?
The night continued with reminiscences, jokes, and wellwishes for the bride. When it grew chilly, they moved inside. Irene turned on some music, Katie fetched a deck of cards, and suggested a game of Truth or Dare.
Lets play Never Have I Ever, Margaret proposed, just like the good old days.
The game began innocently. Never have I kissed a girl, Katerr, Katie said, and she and Victoria took a sip, giggling. Never have I shoplifted, Jenny confessed, recalling a childhood gumchewing escapade. Never have I dreamed of a wedding, Irene admitted, despite her earlier vows that a passport stamp was unnecessary.
As the bottles emptied, the questions grew deeper: Never have I had sex in public, Never have I lied to my best friend, Never have I cheated
At the final question, Jenny burst into tears, mascara running.
Jenny, whats wrong? Margaret demanded, leaning in. Its just a game, love!
Im sorry, Jenny sobbed. I cant go on
Maybe we should stop drinking? Victoria suggested gently, reaching for the glass.
No! Jenny snapped, pushing the drink away. I have to say it. I cant keep it inside any longer!
A heavy silence fell. Even the music seemed to dim.
Margaret, Jennys voice trembled, Im pregnant with Stephens child. With your fiancés child.
The room froze. Margarets mouth hung open, as if the words were too sharp to swallow. Victoria and Katie stared in stunned horror. Irene felt a cold shiver run down her spine.
This cant be true, Margaret finally managed. Youre drunk. Or youve lost your mind.
Its true, Jenny wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. It happened a month and a half ago when you were away in York. I came over to hand you the visa papers you asked for. Stephen was alone
Shut up! Margaret erupted, flinging her wine glass. Scarlet liquid splashed across the light carpet like blood. Dont you dare keep telling this filthy lie!
Im not lying, Jenny said, pulling her phone from her bag, scrolling to a screenshot, and handing it to Margaret. Heresee the test and the messages with Stephen.
Margaret recoiled, as if the phone were a venomous snake. I dont believe it, she whispered, though doubt already crept into her voice. He would never
He said you two were sleeping in separate rooms, that the wedding was a mistake, that you were planning to break up, Jenny continued, eyes fixed on Margaret. He told me all that.
No! Our marriage is perfect! We love each other! Margaret shouted, her voice breaking.
Then why did he do this? Jenny asked, bitterly. Why say he wanted me, that I was special?
She stopped, the words choking her. Margaret slapped her hard; Jenny yelped, clutching her cheek.
Enough! Irene stepped between them. Calm down, both of you!
Calm down? Margaret turned to Irene, tears shining. My best friend just told me shes pregnant with my fiancé! How am I supposed to calm down?
Lets sort this out, Irene said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the tremor inside. Jenny, are you sure youre pregnant? And that its Stephens?
Yes, Jenny whispered. The test is positive. I havent been with anyone else since the divorce.
Did you ever consider talking to Stephen about it instead of causing a scene here? asked Victoria, who had been silent until now.
I tried, Jenny replied, lowering her head. He said it was my problem, that I was lying, that he only loved Margaret
Margaret, suddenly very calm, seized Jennys phone and began scrolling through the messages. With each swipe her face grew paler.
Theres nothing here, she finally said. Just ordinary texts: Hey, how are you?, When will you be home? No mention of a pregnancy.
He called me, Jenny said quietly. He didnt want to write it down.
Convenient, Katie muttered sharply.
Margaret kept scrolling, then froze, her hand hovering over a photo. She turned the phone toward the others. The picture showed a woman, halfclothed, on a bed that Margaret recognised instantlyStephens bedroom.
When was this taken? Margaret asked, voice flat.
The 15th of April, Jenny answered. The day you left for York.
Margaret closed her eyes, trying to steady her racing heart. I didnt go to York then. My aunt had a stroke; we stayed home and watched movies all night.
Jennys face contorted with frustration. But Stephen told me youd gone
Did you believe him? Victoria asked, shaking her head. Or are you making this up now?
No! Jenny leapt up. Im not lying! He came to my flat; thats proof! She pointed again at the photo.
Margaret examined it closely, then laugheda nervous, hysterical sound. Good heavens, thats not our bedroom. Thats my own flat back when I lived with my parents. Look at the swans on the wallthats my mothers wallpaper.
Jenny blinked, confused. But
Notice the date on the picture15.02, not 15.04, Margaret continued, tapping the corner. It was taken in February.
Silence settled over the room like a heavy blanket. Jenny slumped onto the sofa, shoulders drooping.
So what now? Irene asked, her voice low. Are you lying to us?
I Im not lying about the pregnancy, Jenny murmured, covering her face with her hands. The test is real.
But the father Margaret whispered. It isnt Stephen, is it?
Jenny stayed quiet for a moment, then whispered, I dont know who the father is. After the divorce I saw a few men. When I learned I was pregnant, I panicked. No one wanted anything serious. Then Stephenhes so caring, he seems perfect for a family
You assumed hed be a good father and used him as a scapegoat, Victoria finished for her. You told a lie to wreck their happiness.
Youre a terrible person, Margaret said, her voice trembling with hurt and anger. I thought you were my best friend.
I was desperate, Jenny sobbed, dropping her head onto her hands. Im alone, with a child, after the divorce. I didnt know what to do.
Irene let out a deep sigh. You could have asked for help. We would have been there for you. But now
Margaret stood, gathering her coat. Where are you going? Irene asked, anxious. Its late; you should stay until morning.
I cant stay, Margaret said, tears streaming down her cheeks. Ill call a taxi and go home.
Ill go with you, Irene declared, determined. I wont let you drive alone.
Jenny remained on the sofa, eyes fixed on the floor.
Margaret, Im sorry, she whispered. I was jealous of your happiness please forgive me.
Margaret paused at the doorway, turning back. Youve shattered more than our friendship. Youve broken my trust in people. I dont know if I can ever forgive you.
The taxi that whisked Margaret away down the dark country road was silent, the headlights cutting through the night. Irene sat in the back, listening to the hum of the engine, understanding that her friend needed time to mend.
What scares me most? Margaret finally said, her voice barely audible. For a moment I believed the worst. I doubted Stephen. I doubted us.
Its natural, Irene replied softly. Anyone would be shaken by such a revelation.
But I shouldnt have been, Margaret said, clenching her fist on the seat. Ive known Stephen for four years. Hes never given me a reason to doubt him. Yet one accusation made me think he was a traitor.
You were confused, Irene said, placing a hand on Margarets shoulder. Now the truth is out.
Yes, Margaret managed, a bitter smile forming. My best friend turned out to be a betrayer, ready to ruin my joy for her own motives.
Jenny made a terrible mistake, Irene sighed. But she was in despairpregnant, alone, uncertain.
Do you excuse her? Margaret asked, eyes flashing.
No, Irene answered firmly. But I try to understand. Theres a difference.
Silence fell again as the radio played a soft melody.
Ill call Stephen, Margaret said, pulling out her phone.
Its almost two in the morning, Irene noted, checking her watch.
It doesnt matter, Margaret replied. He needs to hear this.
Stephen answered almost instantly, as if he hadnt slept.
Margaret? Whats happened? Are you alright?
Hearing his worried voice, Margaret broke down, telling him everythingJennys claim, her own fleeting doubt, the chaos that had erupted.
Ill wait for you, Stephen said simply. Come home.
When they finally arrived at Margarets cottage, it was well past midnight. Irene asked the driver to wait, intending to return to her own flat.
Will you stay? Margaret offered. We have a spare bedroom.
No, Irene shook her head. You both need a moment alone. Ill call you in the morning.
Margaret embraced her friend. Thank you for being here.
Always, Irene smiled. Dont let this ruin your wedding. It will be perfect, I promise.
Margaret nodded and went upstairs, where Stephen waited in his casual nightwear, hair tousled, eyes worried. He pulled her into a tight hug, whispering, Its all right. Youre here, thats what matters.
Irene watched them from the taxi window, a faint smile touching her lips. Despite everything, she believed their wedding would indeed be flawless, built on a love that could survive any trial.
And as for Jenny Irene took a deep breath. The next day she would call her, offer genuine helpbecause even those who stumble gravely deserve a chance at redemption.
The taxi pulled away, carrying her away from the cottage where two loving souls found solace in each other. Irene reflected that true friendship isnt about unwavering support at any cost, but about speaking hard truths, even when they sting, and offering forgiveness when it can be given.
It was still too early for forgiveness. The wound was fresh, the pain sharp. Time would heal, though it would leave scarsmere reminders of what had been endured, proof that even the fiercest storms can be weathered when you have people who truly love you.
