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“Hey,” Carlisle starts, looking across the room to where Esme is sitting, hands fluttering over a blueprint for a house they might live in one day. “Do you want to get married again?”
Their first wedding had been a simple affair, hardly official. Edward had been their only guest, as well as officiant to some degree. Their clothes weren’t anything special, certainly nothing fancy. The ceremony had taken place in the woods somewhere between towns in Illinois. It had been perfect for them at the time.
Rosalie and Alice had planned their second, and it had been as extravagant as expected. The 1960s were a good time to get married, anyway. Esme had looked beautiful in a flowing white gown, her hair carefully pinned up and away from her face. Carlisle himself had been dressed in a classic tuxedo, though Alice had done her bit to fix it up some. They’d invited friends and neighbors that they had met through their work - Carlisle working as a physician in a local hospital, Esme as a elementary school teacher. The reception was as wild as a party could be in 60s Oregon, which isn’t saying much, but it had been wonderful all the same.
“It has been a while.” Esme concedes, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “And don’t think I don’t see how everyone stares at you.”
“Like they don’t stare at you just as much.” Carlisle laughs, crossing the room to scoop Esme into his arms.
“Is that why you’re doing this? Because you’re jealous?” But Esme is laughing too. They’re both suddenly glad for the fact that the children are at school again and the rain is beating down steadily on the windows.
“Everyone knows we’re married, though. And we look a bit young to be renewing our vows.”
“Everyone knows that we have children.” Carlisle corrects. “And besides, who cares about them? To me, you’re the only one that matters.”
“Flatterer.” Esme rolls her eyes, but the expression is fond. She’s grateful for this life, for the time that she has with the man of her dreams. She knows that some of her children struggle with what they are, Edward the most, but she has never for a second regretted her second life.
“Fine. Let’s get married again.” She draws Carlisle in for a kiss, pressing their lips together gently.
“Maybe we should put Bella in charge.”
“Alice would never allow it.”
—
Their third wedding is held on a perfectly overcast Saturday in Forks. Much of the town is there - it’s easy to make friends in a small town, especially with certain advantages.
Bella does help with the planning, reigning in some of Alice’s more extravagant ideas, like digging a pond for Carlisle and Esme to cross in small boat.
The Denalis make the trip south, Garrett taking up the space that Irinia used to fill. Her loss is no less painful than it was when it was fresh, but the sisters are smiling, perhaps glad for the distraction.
“It would have been nice if some of our other friends could attend.” Carlisle murmurs as he takes a turn on the dancefloor with Rosalie.
“We thought about it,” she admits, with a shrug. “I don’t think it would have ended well.”
“No, you’re probably right.”
Carlisle ends up with Esme back in his arms shortly after, spinning gracefully across the dancefloor.
“You are everything to me.” He tells her, low enough that she’s the only that can hear.
“As you are to me.”