The Wrong Bride

Synopsis

It was ten at night. The office building was dark, except for the design department, where pale white lights still flickered. I rubbed my stiff neck and glanced at the dense words on the blueprint. Just as I reached out for my now-cold coffee, my phone vibrated. The screen lit up with the name, Vi. It was Violette Blanche, my best friend, the one I had poured my heart and soul into protecting for five years. I picked up immediately, my voice softening as I asked, "Why aren't you asleep yet? Is your stomach hurting again, hm?" My parents divorced when I was young, and I was raised by my grandmother. I was starved for love and a sense of security. Naturally, I gave my whole life to anyone who showed me even a little bit of kindness. Violette was the person I was closest to in this world, closer than family. On the other end of the line, Violette paused, then she said, "Jeanne, I have something to tell you." Her voice carried a strange sense of excitement mixed with a tinge of hesitance, as if she was avoiding something. "Go ahead, I'm listening." I minimized the blueprint and leaned back in the chair. "Are you thinking of buying another bag? Or a cake? I'll buy it for you when I get paid." I'd always been generous with her. I wore cheap shirts, but I would pull all-nighters for two months just to get her a designer bag. I ate cheap cafeteria food every day, but I never forgot her go-to coffee order. I always thought that this was how friends should be. Then, she gently floated a sentence. "I'm getting married." I froze completely. Then, in the next second, joy rushed over me, and tears burned hot in my eyes. "Really? Goodness, that's wonderful, Violette, I'm so happy for you!" I exclaimed. But that happiness only lasted for a brief second. I suddenly froze. Marriage was such a big thing. Why was I the last one to know?