Im pregnant with your fiancés child, declares my best friend at the bachelorette party.
Youve lost your mind! That dress costs as much as a secondhand car! I stare at the price tag, my eyes wide, unable to believe the number.
No, youre the one whos crazy, if you think Ill marry anything that wont make Stephen forget how to breathe! Mary twirls in front of the mirror, holding the opulent train. A wedding only happens once!
I want to be hopeful, I mumble, glancing at the label on the wedding gown. But seriously, Mary, why spend so much? Stephen loves you, not the dress.
Mary freezes, her expression turning solemn.
You know, when my parents died, I realised how precious every moment is. I want this day to be perfect, so that my mum and dad, looking down from above, could be proud.
I soften instantly, regretting my harsh words. My parents were killed in a crash three years ago, and Ive learned to hide the pain behind smiles and a façade of carefree cheer.
Im sorry, I step forward and hug Mary, careful not to crumple the pricey gown. If this is the dress you need, then its worth it.
You know whats funny? Mary smiles, tucking a rogue strand behind her ear. Stephen suggested we dip into our travel fund. He said Venice isnt going anywhere, and a bride only gets one perfect dress.
I picture Stephen: tall, always composed, warm eyes and a shy grin. He and Mary make the ideal pairshes bright and impulsive; hes steady and sensible.
Irene, Im so happy, Mary whispers as the sales assistant steps away to fetch the veil. Sometimes I cant believe it. Stephen is the best thing thats ever happened to me.
After me, of course, I tease, and Mary bursts into laughter.
Naturally! By the way, have you sorted the bachelorette plans? Only two weeks left.
Everythings set, I assure her, having taken charge of the party as maid of honour. A cosy cottage in the Cotswolds, a pool, a sauna, karaoke and your seven closest friends. No strippers, just as you asked.
Thats perfect, Mary winks. I feel sorry for Jane, she still cant see the light after her divorce.
Dont worry, I have a special surprise for Jane, I grin.
The assistant returns with a fan of lace veils, and we start debating length, style and fastening.
I drive home, exhausted but pleased. Mary finally picks the dress and accessories; the last wedding details still need smoothing out. I indulge in a hot bath, thinking about the upcoming weekend bachelorette.
A message buzzes as I step out of the tub. Anna, another guest, texts that she cant make ither son has spiked a fever.
Thats a shame, I type a quick getwell wish. My gut tells me this isnt the last cancellation. And sure enough, later Svetlana calls, apologising she cant get off work.
Dont stress, I reassure her. As long as were all there on the wedding day, thats what matters.
By Friday evening, my Jeep, packed with snacks and drinks, rolls out of town. Of the seven invited friends, only four remain: me, Jane, Kate and Victoria. Mary isnt bothered at all.
Fewer people, more fresh air, she declares from the front seat beside me. And more champagne for each of us!
The girls cheer. Jane, the divorced friend for whom Ive prepared a special surprise, already pops a bottle of prosecco and pours it into plastic cups.
To the bride! she proclaims. To the most beautiful, happiest, luckiest woman!
And to her wonderful groom! adds Kate, who works with Stephen at a construction firm. Any woman would be lucky to have a man like him.
Im the unlucky one, Jane sighs. My ex turned out to be a real scoundrel.
Not all men are the same, I reply gently. Stephen isnt.
Exactly, Mary nods. 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 relax tonight.
Thats a proper man, Victoria says with a hint of envy. Mine never even scrambled an egg in three years.
The conversation drifts back to the usual banter about the strengths and flaws of men, and when the Jeep pulls up to a twostorey lakeside cottage, the champagne bottle is empty and everyones spirits are high.
The rented cottage is spacious and cosy. The ground floor holds a large kitchenliving area that opens onto a terrace with a heated plunge pool; upstairs are three bedrooms and a bathroom with a sauna.
Amazing! Mary exclaims, taking in the rooms. Youve outdone yourself, love!
I smile, proud. Ive spent nearly a month hunting for the perfect spot: gorgeous countryside, water, room for a barbecue and total privacy.
Evening falls as we start dinner. We chop salads, grill steak, roast potatoes. Jane, unusually quiet, stays at the edge of the group, scrolling on her phone and rarely joining the chatter.
Everything okay? I ask gently as the others head out onto the terrace to set the table.
Jane flinches, then answers, Just tired. Works a nightmare and the babys being a handful.
If you need to talk, Im here, I say, squeezing her hand. She manages a weak smile.
The terrace dinner lifts everyones mood. More prosecco flows, stories from university flood back. Mary, cheeks flushed from wine, beams.
Remember how we first met? she asks, scanning the faces. First year, dorm room, I walked in and there was Irene with a guitar, Kate with a massive plush bear
And I showed up with three suitcases of clothes! Jane laughs. We all thought you were some kind of posh girl.
Turns out you were just a shopaholic, I add.
Thanks to Janes wardrobe we always showed up to dates in different outfits, Kate chimes in. Remember our swap system?
The night rolls on with more memories, jokes and wishes for the bride. As it grows cooler, we move back inside, I turn on some music, Kate pulls out a deck of cards and suggests a game of Truth or Dare.
Lets do Never have I ever, Mary proposes. Like the good old days.
The game starts lighthearted. Never have I ever kissed a girl sends Kate and Victoria laughingly taking a sip. Never have I ever shoplifted makes Jane confess a childhood gumchewing stunt. Never have I ever dreamed of a wedding has everyone, even me, drinking because I always said I didnt need a passport stamp for love.
As the bottles empty, the questions get deeper. Never have I ever had sex in a public place, Never have I ever lied to my best friend, Never have I ever cheated
On the final prompt, Jane suddenly bursts into tears, mascara running.
Jane, whats wrong? Mary leans in, alarmed. Its just a game.
Im sorry, Jane sobs. I cant keep it in any longer
Maybe we should stop drinking? Victoria suggests gently, reaching for Janes glass.
No! Jane pushes the cup away. I have to say it, I cant hold it any more!
The room falls silent, the music dimming.
Mary, Jane looks up, eyes red. Im pregnant with Stephens child.
A stunned hush settles. Marys mouth hangs open, unable to process. Victoria and Kate stare at Jane, disbelief etched on their faces. My spine prickles with cold dread.
What nonsense is this? Mary finally snaps. Youre drunk. Or youve lost your mind.
Its true, Jane wipes 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 drop off the visa papers you asked for. Stephen was home alone
Shut up! Mary erupts, flipping her wine glass. The red liquid spreads across the carpet like blood. Dont you dare keep telling this filthy lie!
Im not lying, Jane pulls out her phone, scrolls, and hands the screen to Mary. Heres the test result and the message history with Stephen.
Mary recoils as if stung by a snake.
I dont believe it, she whispers, doubt creeping in. He would never
He said you two were having problems, Jane continues, eyes fixed on the floor. That you were sleeping in separate rooms, that the wedding was a mistake, that you were planning to split
Thats not true! Mary shouts. Everythings fine! We love each other!
Then why did he do it? Jane asks, bitter. Why did he tell me he wanted me, that I was special
Mary slaps Jane hard. Jane cries out, clutching her cheek.
Enough! I step between them. Calm down, both of you!
Calm down? Mary turns to me, tears glistening. My best friend just told me shes pregnant with my fiancé! How am I supposed to calm down?!
Lets sort this out, I say, trying to keep my voice steady. Jane, are you sure youre pregnant? And that its Stephens?
Yes, she says quietly. The test is positive. I havent been with anyone else since the divorce.
Did you ever think you could have spoken to Stephen about this instead of spilling it at a bachelorette? Victoria asks, having been silent until now.
I tried, Jane lowers her head. He told me it was my problem, that I was lying, that he only loves Mary
Mary, suddenly composed, snatches Janes phone and scrolls through the messages. After a moment, she sighs.
Theres nothing in here, she says. Just Hey, hows it going? and When will you be home? No mention of a pregnancy.
He called, Jane says softly. He didnt want to write it.
Convenient, Kate remarks dryly.
Mary keeps scrolling, then freezes on a photo. It shows a woman halfdressed on a bed; the wallpaper is unmistakably the one from my own flat.
When was this taken? Mary asks, voice flat.
The day you went to York, Jane replies. Fifteenth of April.
Mary closes her eyes, trying to steady her racing heart.
I didnt go to York that day, she finally says. I cancelled the trip because my aunt had a heart attack and was hospitalised. Stephen and I stayed home, watched movies all evening.
Jane looks bewildered.
But Stephen told me you left, she says. How could you have known?
Did you really believe him? Victoria asks. Or are you making this up now?
No! Jane leaps up. Im not lying! He came to my flat; heres proof! She points again at the picture.
Mary examines the image closely, then bursts into a nervous laugh.
Oh my God, she wipes tears of both grief and nervous chuckle. Thats not our bedroom. Thats your own flat. I recognise the swans on the wall you brought those from your parents house.
Jane blinks at the photo.
But
Look at the date on the photo, Mary continues, pointing. It says 15/02, not 15/04.
A heavy silence hangs. Jane slumps onto the sofa, shoulders drooping.
So what does that mean? I ask, my voice soft. Are you lying to us?
I Jane covers her face with her hands. Im not lying about the pregnancy. The test is positive.
Then the father isnt Stephen, is it? Mary asks quietly.
Jane stays quiet, then whispers:
I dont know who the father is. Ive been with a few men since the divorce. When I found out I was pregnant, I panicked. Nobody wanted anything serious. Then I saw how caring Stephen is, how he loves you, how he wants a family
You assumed hed be a good dad and used him as a cover, Victoria says, finishing the thought. And you lied to wreck our relationship.
Youre a terrible person, Mary mutters, hurt more than angry. I thought you were my best friend.
I was desperate, Jane sobs, dropping her head onto her arms. After the divorce I was alone, with a baby on the way I didnt know what to do.
I exhale heavily.
You could have asked for help. We wouldve all been there for you. But you chose this I say, my voice cracking.
Mary quietly gathers her things.
Where are you going? I ask, uneasy. Its late; you should stay until morning.
I cant stay here, Mary replies, tears streaming down her cheeks. Ill call a taxi and go home.
Then Im coming with you, I say firmly. You wont go alone.
Jane stays seated, eyes downcast.
Mary, Im sorry. I dont know what possessed me. I was jealous of your happiness Forgive me.
Mary stops at the doorway, turns back.
Youve just shattered not only our friendship but also my trust in people. I dont know if I can ever forgive you.
In the taxi racing down the dark motorway, Mary sits in silence, watching the lights flash past. I keep my hand on the door, giving her space to breathe.
You know what scares me most? Mary finally says. For a moment I believed you. I doubted Stephen. I doubted us.
Its natural, I reply gently. Anyone would question things after hearing something like that.
But I shouldnt have! Mary slams her fist on the seat. Ive known Stephen for four years. Hes never given me a reason to doubt him. One accusation, one word, and I was ready to think hed betrayed me.
You just got confused, I say, placing a hand on her shoulder. Well get through this. Youll know the truth.
Yes, Mary says bitterly. My best friend turned out to be a traitor, willing to tear my happiness apart for her own interests.
Jane made a terrible mistake, I sigh. But shes desperate, pregnant, alone
Are you excusing her? Mary asks, eyes flashing.
No, I answer firmly. Im trying to understand. Theres a difference.
We fall quiet again as the radio plays a soft tune.
Im calling Stephen, Mary says, pulling out her phone.
Right now? I glance at my watch. Its almost two in the morning.
It doesnt matter. He needs to know.
Stephen answers almost immediately, as if he hadnt slept.
Mary? Everything alright?
Hearing his concerned voice, Mary breaks down, telling him everything thats happened, the lies, the sudden doubt.
Ill wait for you, Stephen says simply. Come home.
When we pull up to Mary and Stephens house, its well past midnight. I ask the driver to wait; I plan to head to my flat.
Stay? Mary offers. We have a spare guest room.
No, I shake my head. You need to talk alone. Ill call you in the morning.
Mary hugs me tightly.
Thank you for being here.
Ill always be, I smile. Dont let this ruin your wedding. It will be perfect, I promise.
Mary nods and goes inside. Stephen is waiting on the doorstep in joggers and a crumpled shirt, hair dishevelled, worry etched on his face. He embraces Mary, pulling her close.
Im sorry, she whispers into his shoulder. I never should have doubted you.
Its okay, he kisses the top of her head. The important thing is youre here. Were together.
From the taxi window I watch them, feeling a quiet certainty that their wedding will indeed be flawless, built on a love that can survive any test.
As for Jane I take a deep breath. Tomorrow Ill call her, talk, offer real help. Even those who make terrible choices deserve a chance at redemption.
The taxi pulls away, taking me farther from the cottage where two loving souls have found comfort in each other. I think maybe thats what true friendship is: not blind support, but honest truth, even when it hurts, and forgiveness when its possible.
Its still too early for forgiveness. The wound is fresh, the pain sharp. Time will heal, though it will leave scarsreminders of what weve endured and proof that even the fiercest storms can be weathered when you have people who truly love you.
