Bridesmaid to Bride

Chapter 2: The Problematic bestie

The clamor of voices and the screech of metal against metal pulled Arabella from her sleep. She blinked groggily, then sat upright as the train slowed to a stop. The conductor’s voice rang through the carriage, announcing their arrival in the city.

Her heart leapt. She inhaled deeply, a smile tugging at her lips. “Here I am, city people!” she blurted out, her voice bubbling with excitement. A few nearby passengers turned to stare, their expressions a mix of curiosity and mild disbelief. She didn’t care. For the first time in years, she felt free.

Stepping onto the bustling platform, she hailed a taxi with a quick wave, clutching a crumpled piece of paper in her hand. It was the address Blair had sent her.

As the taxi sped through the streets, Arabella pressed her face to the window like a child. Towering buildings gleamed under the glow of countless lights. Neon signs flashed in colors she’d never seen in the quiet, muddy lanes of the farm. Her chest swelled with wonder; the city was alive in a way she had only dreamed about.

The taxi came to a stop in front of a sleek condominium building. Arabella climbed out, staring up in awe. The slip of paper in her hand directed her to the tenth floor, but she hesitated at the elevator. She had never ridden one before.

Noticing her confusion, the security guard offered a polite smile. “Ma’am, I’ll help you.”

Moments later, the elevator doors slid open, and Arabella stepped into a hallway that smelled faintly of polished wood and jasmine air freshener. Her pulse quickened with every step toward Blair’s door.

She knocked, grinning. “Blair! I’m here!”

The door swung open, and a familiar voice gasped, “Ara? Is that really you?”

Blair’s eyes widened in shock before joy overtook her face. She threw her arms around Arabella, and the two clung to each other, laughing and nearly in tears. Fifteen years had passed since they had last seen each other.

Pulling back, Blair gave her a once-over and chuckled. “What happened to you? You look like a mess!”

Arabella grinned sheepishly. “Just your average farm girl… raised by evil adoptive parents.” She glanced around the spacious apartment, her eyes widening. “Your place is huge! Is this all yours? And you—Blair—you’ve become so beautiful. I can’t believe how much time has passed.”

They settled onto a plush sofa. Blair took Arabella’s hands, her expression softening. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. You’re so thin… are you even eating?”

“I eat,” Arabella said with a shrug. “But there’s always so much work to do. My adoptive father’s a drunkard, my mother’s a gambler… life there is just… hard. But I’ve managed to breathe through it all.”

Blair’s brow furrowed, but she rose and returned with a steaming cup of coffee and a box of pizza. “You must have had such a hard life…” she murmured.

They talked and talked, their laughter echoing in the cozy apartment as the night deepened.

“Do you remember,” Arabella said through a fit of giggles, “how Sister Mary scolded you when you stole bread for me?”

Blair laughed so hard she nearly spilled her coffee. “Yes! And she spanked me for it—but it was worth it. You were on punishment because you’d put a rat in the kitchen!”

Arabella doubled over, clutching her stomach. “I’d forgotten about that!”

They laughed until tears streamed down their cheeks, two girls again in their hearts, bound together by the memories of a childhood both cruel and sweet.

Arabella lingered in the bathroom longer than she meant to. The steam wrapped around her like a soft embrace, and for the first time in her life, she stood beneath a steady stream of warm water. The heat sank deep into her skin, washing away the dust and fatigue of years spent on the farm. She closed her eyes, letting the sensation sink in.

For once, she felt alive. For once, she felt safe.

By the time she stepped out, Blair was back in the living room with several paper bags of takeout spread across the coffee table. The scent of fried chicken, warm rice, and sweet pastries made Arabella’s stomach growl.

“So,” Arabella said between bites, “when is your wedding, Blair? I never even knew you had someone to marry. Last I heard, you wanted to study abroad.”

Blair’s cheerful expression dimmed. She set down her chopsticks and looked away. “That was what I wanted, Ara. But my parents… they want this wedding more than I do.”

Arabella frowned. “You make it sound like you don’t want to marry him at all.”

“I don’t,” Blair admitted softly. “Sometimes I wonder how it would feel to just… run away. Like you did.”

Arabella shook her head. “Hey, don’t talk like that. Your parents are nice. You grew up in the city, they let you dream, they gave you everything I didn’t have. It’s not the same for me.”

“You have no idea how frustrated I am,” Blair murmured. Her voice held a weight Arabella didn’t quite understand. “I still want to do so many things for myself, Ara. I’m not ready to give them up for a marriage I didn’t choose.”

Arabella shrugged. “Well… for me, all I’ve ever wanted is a roof over my head, steady work, and maybe a chance to study here in the city. That’s it. Just a simple life where I’m free.”

Blair smiled faintly, as if that simplicity was something precious. “If only my dreams were that simple.”

Arabella chuckled. “If I only had your life, Blair, I’d be happy enough.”

Blair tilted her head. “Really? You’d be okay marrying someone you barely know just because your parents said it was for your own good?”

“Yeah, why not?” Arabella grinned. “It’s still better than staying on a farm milking cows every morning, trust me.”

They laughed together, the sound filling the apartment with a warmth that reminded them of their younger years.

That night, they shared Blair’s bed like they used to share a bunk in the orphanage. The city lights outside streamed through the curtains, painting the walls in silver and gold. They lay in quiet for a while before Blair’s voice broke the stillness.

“I have a little secret,” she whispered.

Arabella turned her head. “Hm? What is it?”

“I’m planning to run away too,” Blair said, her voice barely above a breath. “I’m going to London—with Damien.”

Arabella’s brow furrowed. “Damien? Who’s that?”

Blair’s lips curved into a mischievous smile. “That’s my boyfriend.”

“Your what?” Arabella sat up straight, blinking at Blair as if she hadn’t heard her right.

Blair pressed a finger to her lips. “Shhh… keep your voice down.” Her eyes darted toward the closed bedroom door as if someone might be listening. “I have a boyfriend, Ara. His name’s Damien. We’re planning to go to London together… study abroad, start a new life.”

Arabella frowned, leaning closer. “Are you sure about him? I mean… how do you know he’s really good for you? Maybe you don’t know him well enough to take such a big step with him.”

Blair met her gaze steadily. “If one day you meet someone who makes you feel like they’re the one, you’ll understand. You’ll just… know. And I know, Ara. I just want to be with him.”

Arabella’s chest tightened. She understood that longing—the ache for something out of reach. She pulled Blair into a tight embrace. “If only I could help you somehow… I would. But I don’t even know where to begin.”

Blair pulled back, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. “Do you really want to help?”

Arabella tilted her head. “Of course.”

Blair’s smile deepened. “Then why don’t you take my place? Not as my bridesmaid… but as the bride?”

Arabella’s eyes widened before bursting into laughter. “Oh, sure. I’ll marry your groom for you. Problem solved!” she teased.

They both collapsed into giggles, the tension melting into the soft comfort of shared silliness.

“I’ve missed you so much, Ara,” Blair said at last, her tone turning tender. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Same here, Blair.” Arabella’s smile was warm and full. “Same here.”