Sorry, but only the pretty friends will be invited to the wedding, the bride declared, her voice echoing as if from a cathedral of clouds.
In the office kitchen, Margaret slammed the fridge door with a clatter that sounded like a distant thunderclap. Lucy, youve forgotten the milk again! We agreed yesterdaythis is the third day in a row! she shouted, eyes flashing.
Amelia stared at her, guilt spilling from her like spilled tea. Im sorry, Margaret, it completely slipped my mind. My head feels like a foggy London morning; I cant think straight today.
Did Vicky ring again? Margaret asked, pouring herself a cup of tea without milk.
Yes, Amelia sighed. Shes been calling since dawnfive times already. The dress isnt right, the shoes are wrong, I need a different photographer. My head is spinning.
Dont blame yourself, Margaret said, sipping her tea. Why do you keep rescuing her? Let the wedding planner handle it.
Its my friend, Amelia protested, clutching the cup. Weve been together since nursery. How could I turn her away?
Friend, Margaret snorted. The one who lets you gallop around like a madwoman while she lounges on the sofa?
Amelia fell silent. Margaret was right. Vicky had dumped every wedding task on her: picking flowers, collecting invitations, meeting the decorator. Twenty years of friendship felt like a stone that could not be moved.
They had met in the cradleroom of St.Marys Nursery. Vicky was the radiant child with platinum hair and sapphire eyes, the sort of girl every boy adored and every girl wanted to be. Amelia was plump, quiet, with ginger braids and a smattering of freckles. The other children teased her, never invited her into their games.
Yet Vicky chose Amelia. One day she walked over, eyes bright, and said, Shall we be friends? From then on they were inseparableschool, university, first crushesall shared. Vicky collected lovers like postcards; Amelia never found a love story of her own.
Lucy, your phones ringing, Margaret called out.
Amelia answered. Of course it was Vicky.
Ally, where are you? Im in the bridal boutique trying on dresses for the bridesmaids. Come quick, I need your opinion!
Im at work, three hours until lunch, Amelia replied.
Take a break! Its importanther wedding is next week!
Fine, Ill try, Amelia exhaled, asking her boss for a brief leave and hurrying to the boutique. Vicky greeted her with a radiant smile, dressed in a flowing white gown and veil.
Look at me, Im a vision! she twirled before the mirror. Isaac will go mad with joy!
Youre gorgeous, Amelia said truthfully. Vicky always looked like a princess in a wedding dress.
Vicky gestured toward mannequins. These are the bridesmaids gownssoft pink, floorlength. Arent they lovely?
Yes, beautiful, Amelia whispered.
There will be five of them. I think five bridesmaids make a perfect picture.
Who are they?
Tammy, Olivia, Katie, Martha and Natalie.
Amelia froze. Five friends. She wasnt on the list.
What about me? she managed to ask, voice trembling.
Vicky glanced away. Lucy, you understand
Understand what?
This is a photo shoot. Everything must be harmonious. And you
The what?
Im sorry, but the wedding will only feature the beautiful friends.
The words fell like heavy stones. Amelia stared, the world around her turning a shade of lavender. Only the beautiful friendsso she must be not beautiful.
Youre serious? she whispered, throat dry.
Its just aesthetics! The pictures will be everywhere on the internet. I want everything perfect, Vicky said, eyes darting.
So Ill ruin your perfect photos? Amelia asked, hurt swirling.
…youre a bit rounder. The dress wont sit right on you Vicky muttered.
Twenty years of friendship flashed through Amelias mind, tears gathering like dew. For twenty years I stood by you, helped you with everything. And you dont invite me because Im not pretty?
I never said I wasnt inviting you! Of course youll be at the weddingjust not as a bridesmaid.
Right, Amelia said, snatching her bag. Very clear.
Dont leave! We still have flowers to pick!
But Amelia stepped out onto the rainslick street, tears streaking her cheeks. Passersby turned, but she couldnt care. Two decades of friendship shattered by the phrase only the beautiful friends.
She collapsed onto her sofa at home, sobbing until the phone rang incessantly with Vickys calls, which she ignored. That evening her mother, Eleanor, sat beside her.
Whats happened, love? Eleanor asked, smoothing Amelias hair.
Amelia poured out the story. Eleanor listened, nodding.
Maybe its for the best, her mother suggested gently. She didnt say youre ugly; she just showed how shallow she is. She cares only about the picture, not the person.
But weve been friends forever!
Think backwhat did she ever give you? She took all the help, never returned it. When your father died, she didnt come. When you lost your job, she never lobbied for you. When you broke up, she told you to move on without a hug. Yet you were always there for her, night after night, helping with projects, sheltering her when she argued with her parents.
Amelia felt a cold wind sweep through the memory.
I was foolish, she whispered.
No, you were kind. Thats a big difference, Eleanor replied.
The next day Vicky called, voice cracking. Lucy, why are you angry? I didnt mean to hurt you.
Im not beautiful enough for your wedding, Amelia said.
I never said that! I talked about aesthetics!
Its the same thing.
Honestly, youre too sensitive! Fine, if it matters so much, youll be the sixth bridesmaidright behind the others, invisible in the photos.
Amelia felt an icy chill settle in her bones.
You hear what youre saying, Vicky?
What? Im trying to help! I wanted five, now Ill make you six! For you!
For me, to stand at the back and be unseen.
You get it, dont you?
No, Vicky. I wont go to your weddingnot as a bridesmaid, not as a guest, not at all.
What? Weve been friends for twenty years!
Friends that was then. I cant let you trample me for a picture.
Vicky protested, Youre betraying me on my most important day!
Its not betrayal. Its respecting myself. I was just a convenient shoulder for you, never truly respected.
The truth hurts, but I see it now, Vicky sobbed. I was selfish, only caring about the image.
Amelia hung up, her hands shaking, yet a calm settled over her. For the first time in years she acted according to her own compass, not Vickys whims.
At work, Margaret listened, then pulled Amelia into a warm hug. Well done! Im proud of you. You finally set boundaries. Vickys getting a bit fullofherself, isnt she?
Im scared, Margaret. Twenty years what if Im wrong?
Youre not. A true friend never asks you to hide. You deserve better treatment.
A week later the wedding day arrived. Amelia stayed at home, watching a flickering film, trying not to imagine Vicky in her white dress, Isaac in a sharp suit, five bridesmaids in pink gowns. The phone buzzed. It was Tammy, one of the five.
Ally? Its Tammy. Can we talk?
Of course, Amelia replied.
Vicky told us youre not coming. Were all shocked. We thought she was joking about the beautiful friends comment.
It was serious, Amelia said, a bitter smile tugging at her lips.
Were scared to confront her, but we think she was wrong, Tammy admitted. Shes domineering.
Amelia felt a strange warmth. She had finally become the steady centre of a storm shed once been swept into.
That evening Vickys mother, Helen Clarke, called. They met at a quiet café on the high street. Helens face was lined with worry.
Lucy, Ive heard what happened. Vicky gave her version, but something felt off. Tell me everything.
Amelia recounted the whole tale. Helen listened, eyes softening.
Im to blame, she said slowly. I raised her to think shes a beauty, that everyone should cater to her. I was wrong. You, Lucy, have always been genuine and kind. You deserve better.
Thank you, Amelia whispered.
Maybe this is a lesson for Vicky. Beauty isnt just skin deep.
Weeks passed. Vicky didnt call, and Amelia didnt either. Life moved onwork, home, genuine friends. Margaret and Amelia joined a yoga class, started jogging in HydePark, ate salads not because they were ashamed of their bodies but because they wanted to feel alive.
One evening a knock sounded at the door. Vicky stood there, makeup stripped away, plain clothes, eyes rimmed with tears.
May I come in? she asked softly.
Amelia opened the door. They sat at the kitchen table, the air heavy with unsaid words.
I lost Isaac, Vicky confessed. Three weeks after the wedding, the honeymoon turned into a nightmare. He said I wasnt the woman I pretended to be, that I only cared about appearances. He left, and he even blamed me for losing a true friend because of the photos.
Amelia listened, the room feeling like a reverie of muted colours.
I ruined everything, Vicky wept. I lost my husband, I lost you. I finally see that you were the only one who loved me for who I am.
Your words cut deep, Amelia said.
I know. Im sorry. I was a fool, obsessed with the image. I understand if you cant forgive me.
I cant forgive you right now. I need time, Amelia replied.
But I dont want to abandon you. If youre willing to work on yourself, Ill be here, she added.
Really?
Yes. Our friendship will change. I wont be the one you always help. Ill protect my own boundaries.
Vicky nodded, tears drying on her cheeks.
Months later Vicky called, eager to apologize to everyone she had hurt. Lucy, can you help me make a list? she asked.
Of course, Amelia replied.
Together they visited former classmates, colleagues, neighbours, offering sincere apologies. After each encounter Vicky remarked, Its strange, I always thought I was better than everyone, but I was the worst version of myself.
Youve understood, Amelia said. Thats what matters.
A year passed. Vickys divorce was finalized, but she remained friends with Isaac, realizing she had rushed into a marriage for the spectacle, not the substance.
Amelia shed fifteen pounds, not to please anyone, but because she loved her body and wanted health.
One afternoon they met at a cosy café on a rainy Camden lane, sipping tea.
You look radiant, Vicky said.
Thank you, Amelia smiled. Youre glowing too.
Its not the dress or the makeup. Its the light inside you. Thats real beauty.
Youve changed, too. Youre kinder now.
I learned from you. When I was stuck in an Instagram loop, I forgot what mattered. You pulled me out.
Trying, Amelia replied. Thanks for not giving up on me.
They raised their cups.
To true friendship, Amelia said.
To true beauty, Vicky added.
The wedding saga taught both a vital lesson. Amelia learned to value herself and set limits; Vicky learned that outer allure is fleeting, while inner light endures.
Their bond, once teetering on the edge of collapse, grew stronger, built not on habit but on mutual respect.
Later, Vicky met a modest engineer named Thomas, a man with kind eyes, far from the runway models she once chased.
I used to chase handsome, highstatus men, she confessed to Amelia. Now I see the soul matters.
Im happy for you, Amelia replied.
Any prospects for you?
Not yet. Im learning to be happy on my own.
Thats true strengthfinding contentment within.
No longer the naïve girls from nursery, they had been forged by lifes fire, yet their friendship endured, mature and honest.
When Vicky finally decided to marry again, she came to Amelia.
Lucy, I want you to be my bridesmaidnot one of the five pretties, but the one who matters most, she said.
Really?
Yes. Because youre my genuine friend, and I dont care how it looks in photos. I just need you by my side.
Amelia embraced her, and the old wound finally healed. At the wedding, Amelia stood beside Vicky in a simple dress, bouquet in hand, right there, not hidden in the back. When Vicky exchanged vows, Amelias hand rested firmly on hers, a silent promise of loyalty.
The photographs captured not flawless perfection, but authentic joy, alive and breathing.
And that, perhaps, was the most beautiful wedding anyone could ever imagine.
