Archive of Our Own ^beta

Edward, you know the rules!  Get out!   Alice mentally screamed at me from down the street.  In between yelling at me, she was translating in languages I wasn't fluent in—her favorite way to mentally shut me out.  

I groaned.

"What is it?" Bella asked, looking up from her cereal bowl.

"Alice will be here in a couple minutes."

Bella had another wedding dress fitting today, so I was barred from her house, lest I get even the slightest clue of what it might look like.  Alice was very insistent on this matter; she wouldn’t even let anyone else see Bella's dress, to prevent me from getting a peek at it from someone's thoughts.  

Bella groaned, too.  She reached across the kitchen table and took my hand, aware of my imminent departure.  "How many times do I need to try on the damn thing?" she complained.  "She already knows it fits."

"I'm sure she just wants everything to be perfect."

"You know, perfectionism can be pathological, right?"  Her voice was deadpan, but I knew it concealed a deeper dread.  Despite weeks of planning underway, Bella still felt uneasy about the whole concept of a wedding.  Which is exactly why she put Alice in charge. 

I squeezed her hand.  "Isn't that what you want in a wedding planner?" I teased. 

"I guess ."

For the most part, I enjoyed wedding planning, except for days like this that brought me away from my bride-to-be.  I was elated to marry Bella; I eagerly awaited our fast-approaching wedding day.  I was excited to go over every small detail that would contribute to making the day perfect.  But even I had to admit that Alice could be overbearing when she was enthusiastic about something.    

Bella turned to the sound of Alice's Porsche pulling into the driveway.  All traces of humor vanished from her face.

A second later, Alice let herself in.  She came into the kitchen carrying a garment bag—longer than she was tall—over her head.  "Hi, Bella!  Bye, Edward!" she chirped.

I sighed, giving in to the temptation to dig at her.  "You know you could drive something a little less conspicuous.  We're still supposed to attempt to keep a low profile."

"And miss the chance to take out my favorite car given to me by my favorite brother?"

I rolled my eyes.  "Your flattery carries much less weight when it's preceded by kicking me out of my fiancée's house."

She shrugged.  "Can't blame me for trying.  Now out!"

"Yes, ma'am."

I stood and Bella followed.  I leaned down and kissed her.  "I'll see you tonight," I promised.

"See you," she whispered, holding my hand tighter before letting me go.

As soon as I was out the door, I heard Alice bombarding Bella.

" Bella, I know dahlias are your favorite, but they don't really say bridal , so I have some other options for you to choose tomorrow.  I was thinking maybe orange blossoms and —"

" Just pick whatever you think is best, Alice."  I could hear the poorly concealed frustration in Bella's voice.   "It doesn't really matter to me which flowers I have ."

Their voices in Alice's mind faded with distance as I ran through the woods to my house.  Alice had her own plans for me, and I knew I would pay for it if I neglected them.  In a matter of minutes I arrived home.

It was relatively quiet, as only Esme and Jasper were home; Carlisle was at work and Emmett and Rosalie were out hunting.  I stepped into the living room, where Jasper greeted me. 

"Alice left your suit in her bathroom."  She wants a detailed critique when she gets back, he warned.

"Thanks," I said dryly. 

I ran upstairs to Alice's room.

Edward , Esme called mentally from her study.  Let me see once you've tried it on .

Hanging from the back of the door was my wedding ensemble: tailcoat, waistcoat, shirt, and trousers.  I hadn't worn something so formal in decades, as such occasions had fallen out of favor.  I quickly put it on, feeling an automatic sense memory when tying my tie and fastening my cufflinks.  The prescribed dress of yore was sort of comforting, rediscovering an old ritual.  When I was dressed, I looked in the gigantic three-way mirror.  

I usually didn't give much thought to what I wore, preferring to let Alice buy whatever she thought would suit me.  Even then it was almost exclusively classic neutrals that didn't draw much attention.  But this was something else entirely—grand and refined, impressive and intimidating.  Alice had outdone herself. 

She had designed my outfit to be almost identical to the white tie and tails I still had from my human years in Chicago.  They hadn't gotten much use then, before the pandemic hit, and were still in decent shape.  I wouldn't have minded wearing the original, but Alice convinced me to go for something new.  The coat was traditional, black with long tails and pointed lapels, outfitted with all the appropriate accoutrements: the starched shirt under a white waistcoat, the white bowtie, the matching studs and cufflinks, the white pocket square and boutonniere.  The only thing missing was the top hat, though Alice had deemed it too much a relic of the past to be convincingly modern.  I looked like I had stepped out of a 1918 fashion plate.

 For Alice, the attention to detail was every bit as much about creating the moment she saw in her head as it was about adhering to tradition.  It was also why she'd kept Bella's dress from me.  She had seen several variations of the moment when I would watch Bella walk down the aisle, and she didn't want to jeopardize the impact of it by my lack of surprise.  I doubted anything could have taken away from the importance of that moment for me, but I knew better than to challenge Alice on this.  So I obediently stayed away whenever she was planning anything dress-related, and she diligently kept her thoughts busy whenever she was near me.

But just because Alice had shut me out of her visions, didn't stop me from conjuring up my own.  Once again I recalled that familiar image: Bella dressed in white, her arm through her father's, making the procession down the aisle, greeted by the eager faces of family and friends.  So many times, I had imagined her on her wedding day—even before I could admit to myself that I loved her—as a reminder that she deserved better, as justification for me to stay away.  It used to fill me with such an aching sadness, the embodiment of her future, which I couldn't be a part of.

Now, I looked at my reflection in the mirror, in awe over how I completed the picture.  Now, rather than some faceless stand-in, I would be the one waiting for her at the end of the aisle.  

It was still miraculous to me that I had been the one she had said yes to—over and over again, and then, finally, in the most permanent way.  I had initially pursued her with the expectation of receiving one firm and final no.  Later, when it became clear that that no wasn't coming, I thought I'd be lucky to get perhaps five years with her before she either outgrew me or I had to leave to preserve her human future.  It was an eventuality I didn't like to think about, even now on the other side of it.  But beyond even my most reckless hopes, here we were, on the precipice of eternity, nearing the culmination of a series of yeses. 

Seeing myself like this, half of that treasured image, made that long-awaited moment seem more real.

I headed for Esme's study.  She looked up at my approach and gasped before I had even stepped into the room.

"Oh, don't you look handsome!"  Maternal affection saturated her voice.  She came up to admire me.  I spun in a circle for her, feeling a little juvenile, but I knew how much she appreciated this moment. 

"What do you think?" I asked.  "Is it up to Alice's standards?"

She smoothed my messy hair.  "It's quite dapper.  I miss these old styles; things just aren't as elegant as they used to be," she mused, appraising me.  "Perhaps we'll take the coat in at the waist just a smidge."

Esme had been assisting Alice with the wedding planning, though she wasn't pushy about it.  She had a great artistic eye and a sensitivity to everyone's feelings that made the whole process quite smooth.  Esme was genuinely thrilled to be involved, and absolutely ecstatic that I had found someone I wanted to marry.  She would have loved anyone who made me so happy, but she had also quickly grown to love Bella for her own sake, as a daughter.  

"About the honeymoon," Esme said, "I'm going to ask Kaure to pick up some food for Bella on the island.  Do you know how long you'll be staying?"

"As long as she wants, I suppose.  I don't really have an exact timeline.  She'll want to be back before her birthday, though."

Esme watched my expression become somber.  She knew the significance of Bella's birthday deadline, and she knew my complicated feelings about it.  

You know, you could always change her there , Esme suggested.  It's isolated enough.  And it may be easier for her to control her thirst on an island, as opposed to somewhere closer to humans.   

"That's true."  It was an interesting thought.  Bella wouldn't have to stay out of the sun somewhere so remote, something I knew she would appreciate.  That was one reason Carlisle had given Esme her island: it was the only place she never had to stay in the shadows.

Carlisle and I would go there to help you.  I know the newborn phase can be overwhelming for everyone .

"It's a possibility.  I'll ask Bella what she thinks after we get there."

I was keeping the destination of our honeymoon a surprise.  Bella wasn't even aware that Isle Esme existed, though I was fairly certain she would enjoy it.  It was warm and sunny, exactly the kind of place Bella belonged.  

She's going to love it, you know.  And I don't just mean the honeymoon.  She's going to love being a Cullen.

I had to smile at my mother.  Sometimes I envied her easy optimism.  And then my smile faded, because, even now, I couldn’t help but dread everything that could go wrong.  

"Maybe she will at first.  But I worry that she doesn't realize everything she’s giving up.  She hasn't gotten to be human long enough to fully appreciate everything that it is."

I don't think she's losing as much as you think she is.  You're very like Carlisle in that way.  It was a hard transition for me to make, coming into this life, and while there are some losses, there's also so much to be gained.  I saw that, even in the beginning.  This is still a life, and I think it's a good one, even if you don't always think so.

"You miss being human," I pointed out.

I do, sometimes.  But our family is more important to me than being human.  And I think Bella feels the same way.

I couldn't argue with Esme there.  In many ways, Bella was much more ready to join my family than she was for the wedding.  While mentions of the wedding often made her squirm, she never expressed any aversion to my family, not once since the first time she met them.  The more time she spent with them, the more she seemed to fit in.  And they all welcomed her; even Rosalie, within the last few weeks, had come around to the idea of having Bella as a sister, albeit, she didn't condone all of Bella's choices.

In many ways, Bella is wise beyond her years , Esme went on.  She knows herself and she knows what she wants.  And she knows you will make her very happy.  

Though I still wasn't entirely at ease, her assurance did comfort me.  "Thank you, Esme."

She smiled at me.  Of course, dear.

That evening, after spending the day with my mother making adjustments to my outfit and going over wedding plans, I ran back to Bella's house.  Alice had already left, turning down Charlie's invitation to stay for dinner with the excuse that she had so much to do for the big day.  As much as Charlie favored Alice, he was even less eager than Bella for any reminders about the upcoming event.  It was late enough that they would be finished with their dinner, and Charlie would be about ready for bed.

The one thing that Bella had put her foot down about was that she had to be done with wedding planning in time to have dinner with Charlie every night.  She was very aware of the limited time she had for such evenings at home and she didn't want to miss any.

As I approached her house, I heard her heartbeat coming from her bedroom, and a familiar yanking sound.  I jumped up to Bella's open window and, hanging from the eave, moved the screen up out of my way to let myself in.  Bella turned to the noise; she was expecting me.  

"Hey," she smiled.  She was in the middle of brushing out her wet hair, fresh out of the shower.  She came up and kissed me.  "I missed you."

"I missed you, too.  It seemed like a long day, didn't it?"

"You have no idea."  

"Tell me about it."

"Alice could have picked a less humid day for a dress fitting.  Sweat and satin are not a good combination.  I felt like I was wearing a slip ‘n slide.  Ugh, and that train ..."

I grinned.  "Are you sure you're not in breach of contract?  I thought Alice made you sign an NDA."

Bella shrugged, playing along.  "If she sues me she knows it's coming out of the wedding budget."

Bella hated being the center of attention, which really was impossible to avoid when planning her own wedding.  She often dealt with her nerves by playing it off with humor.  

Once she had made it clear that her discomfort wasn't about an aversion to a commitment to me, but rather the immense social pressure of being in the spotlight and defying everyone's expectations, it was much easier for me to understand her dread.  

"Alice says the weather is supposed to be mild for the wedding, so I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"I'm sure she's thought of everything," Bella muttered sardonically.

She went back to violently yanking the brush through the tangles in her hair.

"Doesn't that hurt?" I cringed. 

"Not really," she said, unbothered as she forced the brush loudly through a knot.  "It's easier when it's still wet, trust me."

I went to lie on her bed while she continued the assault on her hair.

When she finally finished, she joined me there.  She didn't hesitate to wrap her leg around mine and splay her arm across my chest.  I was grateful that now my coldness was an aid to her rather than a detriment, as it so often was.  

"So how was your day?" she asked.

"It was all right.  I had my own fitting.  Alice is probably working on the alterations as we speak."

"Is that something I might get to see?  Or has Alice forbidden it?"

"I'm not allowed to see you in your dress, but I don't think there are any rules against you seeing me.  But then again, she might say 'it would ruin the effect,' or something."

"Yup, that sounds about right."  She sighed.  "So what else did you do today?"

"Esme and I worked out some honeymoon details."

"And that's still a surprise, I take it?"

"Is the curiosity eating away at you?" I teased.

She shrugged.  "No.  Just trying to picture it."

She seemed to be intentionally keeping the conversation away from herself.  I wondered if she was trying to hide something from me.  "What's wrong?"

She sounded surprised.  "Nothing," she said sincerely.  

"Is something bothering you?"

Her heart rate increased slightly.  She sighed, knowing she wouldn't be able to convincingly lie. 

"What are you worried about?" I asked softly.

She hesitated and then gave in.  "It's stupid, really.  It's just that...the idea of the wedding is sort of overwhelming.  And seeing myself in my dress makes it undeniably real.  That dress that I don't even want to imagine how expensive it was, and an enormous cake that a significant portion of the guests can't even eat, and I'm sure a whole greenhouse full of flowers, and lights, and table settings, and decorations…  It's gonna be like the graduation party, only a million times worse."

I realized that the only parties we'd had for her—her birthday party and her graduation party—had been fraught with peril.  The events of her last birthday, which she still didn't like to mention and still wracked me with guilt, was the catalyst to our catastrophic separation which had threatened both our lives.  Then, her graduation was preceded by the realization that a vampire army was coming to kill her, putting everyone she cared about at risk and endangering the supernatural friends and family who were willing to fight to protect her.  And now the wedding was also a sort of secret goodbye party for her friends and family, whom she would never see again.  Of course she was anxious about it.

"Bella, I promise I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you."

"I know.  I'm being sort of silly.  I mean, I still think it's all too much, of course.  But all that wouldn't be such a big deal if it weren't for…" she trailed off, casting her eyes down.

"If it weren't for what?"

"Everyone looking at me," she admitted quietly.  "I can't help imagining myself standing at the end of the aisle and having everybody I know staring at me.  I know they're going to be wondering why I'm doing it, and some will assume I'm doing it for the wrong reasons.  I feel them do it now, every time I leave the house.  People assume I'm marrying you for your money ," there was obvious disgust in her voice, "or because you brainwashed me, or because I'm knocked up—even Charlie thought so!  I just can't stand the thought of everyone looking at me and assuming the worst of me."

She sniffed and I saw her eyelashes flutter nervously.  I took her hand and rubbed the back of it with my thumb.  

I wished I could tell her that her assumptions weren't true, that her apprehensions were unfounded.  But I knew what the humans in town were thinking, and with her usual perceptiveness, Bella had hit the nail right on the head.

"I know what people are saying.  And I hear what they're thinking—"

" Ugh , I bet it's even worse than I imagine."

I shook my head.  "It doesn't matter, love."

She sighed.  "I know I shouldn't care what they all think, but I do."

"Caring isn't a bad thing.  It’s one of the many things I love about you.  You just have to try to care about your own happiness more than other people's happiness.  Are you happy?"

"You know I am."

"Then that's all that matters."  I kissed her hair and she sighed.

She was silent for a moment, but I could tell was still turning it over in her mind.  She didn't disappoint.

"I wish that they could just understand why I'm doing this.  It feels like whenever I try to explain, I just sound defensive, and then in their minds that confirms their assumptions.  It just seems easier to avoid everyone until it's over."

She had told me, before we’d officially gotten engaged, that she was afraid of what people would think.  I had accused her of going through with the big white wedding in an effort to please everyone else.  And while Alice in particular was most pleased, this decision was causing a lot of displeasure in others.  It was contrary to Bella’s nature, to do something that caused so much disapproval and confusion in people she cared about: Charlie, Jacob, her human friends and acquaintances.  I hadn't considered that she would feel she had to put herself in the uncomfortable position of defending her decision against others' opposition.  I was glad that, in this case, her stubbornness was winning out over her agreeableness. 

"I mean," she turned to face me with renewed courage, her chin resting on my chest, "is it really so hard to believe I'm marrying you just because I love you and want to be with you forever?"  It was a relief to hear the despair in her voice turn into indignation. 

I smiled teasingly.  "Sometimes it's still hard for me to believe."

She gave me a small smile.  "That's different.  I know at least you don't think the worst of me."

"Well, when you're standing at the end of the aisle, I'll be looking at you."  I smiled, thinking of that moment.  "So you know that no matter what anyone else thinks, at least one person will be looking at you and thinking the best of you.  Don't look at them; look at me."

She smiled wider.  "I think I can do that."  Her chocolate eyes melted and she leaned in to kiss me. 

I kissed her back for a long moment, her lips yielding over mine, her fingers tangling in my hair.  Her heart hammered away wildly against my ribs.  Then she broke away to catch her breath, and, in the same motion, moved on top of me, her hands on either side of my head, her knees straddled around my waist.  She started kissing me with more intensity, feverishly.  I sighed before breaking away, gently moving her face inches away from mine.  Our deal was, after all, still intact. 

She sighed back, the sweet scent of her breath washing over my face, weakening my resolve.  "You're no fun," she muttered playfully.  

I raised an eyebrow.  I held her waist and, swiftly but carefully, flipped her on her back so I was hovering over her.  I leaned into her neck and started kissing under her jaw.  "Oh, I'm not, am I?" I whispered in her ear.  Her heart was really sprinting now, her breath coming out fast.  I smiled against her skin, feeling her warm pulse beating under my lips.  My throat still burned as it always did, but I had long since ceased any desire for her blood.  Other desires, however, were another matter. 

I pulled away, looking into her face.  Her eyes were wide and inviting, slightly dazed.  Dazzled , I assumed, as she called it.  It still tickled me that I could do that to her.   

I so wished I could read her mind in this moment, as I had in so many moments before.  I ventured that my guess wasn't far off the mark.  While her mind was indecipherable to me, I had gotten pretty good at reading her body.  

Her heartbeat had slowed, her breathing deepened.  I kissed the tip of her nose and turned onto my back next to her.  

She let out an irritated huff and propped herself up on her elbow, facing me.  "You know, delayed gratification isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"I disagree.  I think it's worth the wait.  Besides, I thought we put this matter to bed."

"I wish we'd settle this matter in bed."

I shook my head, smiling.  I really set her up for that one hadn't I?  "Go to sleep, Bella."

"Wouldn't want to sleep through Alice's plans tomorrow."  She let out a resigned sigh and relaxed.  I started humming her lullaby.  She settled into my side and was out in minutes.  I pulled the sheet over her, anticipating she'd get cold in the night, sleeping next to me.  

Bella slept mostly soundly: a couple of times she said Alice's name with a groan and I had to suppress my laugh so I wouldn't wake her.  

In the morning, I briefly hid in Bella's closet while Charlie ducked his head in to check on her before he left for work.  These days, Charlie was grumpier than usual, especially around me.  His thoughts were always indistinct to me, but it was easy enough to figure out what was bothering him, and I couldn't blame him for it.  On mornings like this when he was unguarded, his emotional state was clear, if not his exact thoughts.  He wondered how much longer his only daughter would be at home.  He worried about Bella's future, whether she would be happy with the choices she made.  They were the ordinary, human worries of a concerned father on the brink of his daughter leaving, marrying someone who, to him, could never be good enough for her.  

Charlie was completely unaware of the final goodbye looming, when Bella would be out of his life forever.  He couldn't know, of course, the real reason Bella was leaving; it would endanger him as well as my whole family if he knew the truth.  But I wondered if some sort of warning would be prudent.  Was it better for him, not knowing what was coming?  Or would he handle the separation better if he had time to prepare for it, if he knew when would be the last goodbye?  

As eager as Bella was to join me in this life, those final goodbyes, especially to her father, were the most devastating price she would pay.  She was hopeful to keep in contact through emails and phone calls for a few years while she claimed to be away at college.  She would come up with excuses for not visiting—the expense, or a heavy course load, or work, or illness.  But that couldn't go on indefinitely.  Someday, one of us would have to devastate him with the lie that Bella was dead.  Even as a necessary untruth, I didn't like to think about it.  I didn't like to think about everything Bella was willingly giving up so that she could stay with me forever.  

As if sensing my unease, Bella stirred and reached for me.  I took her hand as she stretched and opened her eyes.   

"Good morning," I told her. 

She smiled up at me lazily.  She sighed and then groaned.  "What time is Alice expecting us?" she muttered.

"Well…" I hesitated, considering something.

The morning was overcast, as usual.  Alice had seen some sporadic sunlight in the afternoon, but the morning and evening would be safe for us to be outside.  

"What do you say to taking the day off from wedding planning?"

"Don't say that too loud.  I think I can hear Alice running over here now."

"I'm serious.  We could go somewhere, just you and me."

Her eyes grew wide as she perked up.  "That sounds amazing."

"Is there anywhere you'd like to go?"

"You can take me anywhere, let's just go quickly."  She clumsily scrambled out of bed and headed for the bathroom.  I chuckled, glad to see her enthusiasm.

Bella hastily dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, and then ran downstairs for a hurried breakfast.  Within minutes, I was following her out the door.

Bella hesitated on the steps, sparing a glance at her beloved broken down Chevy, and then glared at her new Mercedes.  She looked up at me sheepishly.  "Can we take your car?"

"Sure."

I waited until we were obscured in the treeline before lifting Bella onto my back and sprinting through the woods to my house.  

Bella still had not gotten over her resistance to gifts.  I wondered if she would change her mind after she became a Cullen and realized just how inconsequential such toys were to us.  The Mercedes was, after all, only a loaner; her real present waited in the garage for after her transformation.  She seemed to enjoy riding on my back like this for runs, so I thought she might appreciate something built for such speed once she had no reason to fear it.  Perhaps she would accept that car better than she had the Mercedes.  Or perhaps her aversion to extravagant gifts would remain.  After all she had given me, it was a paltry attempt to repay such a debt.  But how could I not give her any little thing that could possibly make her life better?  

So maybe a missile-proof car was overkill.  But given our luck, I wasn't willing to take any unnecessary chances—no matter how slight—with Bella's future, especially when we were so close to getting what we both wanted.  In a few short weeks she wouldn't need that kind of protection anymore.  She would be inhumanly strong and indestructible—immortal, unchanging for the rest of time.  

A small part of me was relieved that she wouldn't be so delicate, that I wouldn't have to constantly worry about the countless ways a fragile human could come to harm.  But I also knew I would miss that worry.  It was such an automatic thought process, being concerned with Bella's humanity.  

I wanted to cherish every bit of her humanity before it was gone forever.  The constant sound of her heartbeat, racing whenever I touched her.  The deep red of her blush that marked her easy embarrassment.  The warm, chocolate color of her eyes, flashing with intuition, melting with tenderness.

Now, I relished in her warmth surrounding me, seeping into my cold body, the breeze of her breath on my neck, slow and even.  

I slowed down when we neared my house.  I ran straight to the garage, but of course Alice was waiting there for me.

Alice tilted her head and gave me a deadly glare.  Really?  "Edward, you are ruining my plans!"

"Don't be mad at me," I defended, setting Bella down.  "I'm part of the reason you have plans to make in the first place."

"Do you know how hard it is to plan the wedding of the century in two months?  Very !"

"Don't act like you aren't enjoying yourself."

"I am enjoying myself!" she said fiercely, and I had to laugh.  "Really, I enjoy the challenge, but that doesn't mean I can't complain about it.  We have four weeks left and I still have the flowers and the cake and—"

"All right then, we'll be productive.  We'll…go look at flower arrangements."  I gave Bella a wry smile.

Alice was not amused.  Har har .

"Oh, come on, Alice," Bella pleaded.  "You can pick out flowers without me.  You'll probably be more efficient by yourself anyway.  That's why I let you plan the wedding to begin with."

"What the bride says goes," I offered.  I opened the car door for Bella and she quickly climbed in.  I ran to the driver's side and got in.

"Ugh, fine !" Alice relented.  Though she acted put off, part of her was secretly pleased that her planning would be unhindered by Bella's ambivalence.  "But make sure you bring her back in time for cake tasting!  That's one thing I can’t do for her."

I shut the door behind me and hit the gas.  

When we were out of sight of the house, Bella asked, "Have you decided to go to Vegas after all?"

I chuckled.  "As tempting as that might be, you and I both know Alice would have tackled me to the ground if that were my intention."

She laughed.  "I guess you're right.  So where are we really going?"

"As I said," giving her a sideways smile, "we're going to look at flower arrangements."

She eyed me skeptically but didn't inquire any further.  She wasn't likely to question too deeply anything that got her out of Alice's manic wedding planning.

I drove north on the 101.  Bella put on my CD of Debussy from the glove compartment.  

When I turned on the 110, I saw the flash in Bella's eyes when she figured out where we were going, but she didn't say anything.  She squeezed my hand tighter and leaned closer to me, resting her head on the back of the seat.  I reached up with my hand that still held hers and stroked her cheek with my thumb. 

At the end of the road, I parked on the shoulder near the trail that we never took.  We got out of the car and Bella wordlessly climbed on my back.  I took off through the familiar woods.  

Our meadow was blooming, still fresh with residual morning dew, humid and sunless.  The air was thick and fragrant, hazy as a dream.  The meadow always felt like this limbo between our worlds—human and inhuman—where Bella and I could be together without any outside interference.  It was the sort of place that could make one believe that magic existed.

I set Bella on the ground and she walked ahead of me, observing the bright wildflowers.  I watched as she slowly circled the perimeter of the meadow.  When she was directly across from me on the other side of it, I darted across the open field, picking flowers on my way, and stood next to her.  She smiled at me as I presented her with the bouquet.  

"Your flower arrangement, as promised."

She put on a serious face and inspected the bunch.  "Yes, these will do just fine."  She took it from me and smelled the flowers.  "Why can't all the decisions be this easy?"

"Is making all these decisions difficult?"  I hadn't anticipated that would be a challenge.  She was very decisive when she knew what she wanted. 

 "It's not so much making the decisions as being presented with the decisions, I suppose."

"What do you mean?"

"I guess it just seems a bit unfair.  Why all this for me?"

I frowned.  "Is part of the reason you're so apprehensive about the wedding because you think you don't deserve it?"  She looked down, so I tilted her chin up with my finger until she would look at me.  "Because you do, you know."

"I'm really trying to believe that," she whispered.  

"What do I need to do to convince you?"

"You don't need to do any more for me."  I raised my eyebrows at her, and she realized the self-deprecation in her words with a sigh.  "I don't know.  I think I just need to get over myself.  I mean, I guess I don't not deserve it."

I smiled at her convoluted wording.  It wasn't an admission that she did deserve it, but it was progress.  "Baby steps," I told her. 

She sighed and then something changed in her expression.  "Okay, now it's your turn."

"My turn for what?"

"I told you what worries me, now you tell me what worries you.  I know something does, because something always worries you.  So come on, out with it."

Of course, a part of me was always worried about her.  Though I no longer worried the baser part of me would give in to the instinct to drink her blood, I still could harm her in other ways, trying to be close to her.  "I'm worried about hurting you."

She knew what I meant, and answered automatically.  "I trust you."

"I know you do.  That's why I have to worry for both of us."

She shook her head.  "But I already knew that.  So what else?"

I sighed.  "I'm worried that you'll grow to resent me."  That little concerned V appeared between her eyebrows.  "Not right away," I clarified.  "But someday, years from now, you'll want something that I can't give you.  Something that you can't have because of what we are.  A career.  Children.  To grow old."

Her warm brown eyes melted into mine.  I drank in the sight, dreading the day very soon when I'd never see them do that again.  "There's nothing I'm ever going to want more than you.  None of those other things matter to me.  Even if they did, I wouldn't resent you over it because you're not forcing me to give them up.  It's my choice and I know what I want."

There was something that I knew did matter to her.  "You'll want to see your family."

She hesitated.  "I will.  But protecting them is more important.  And I'll have my new family."  She gave me a small smile.  "I want to be with you and I want to be like you.  I know what the tradeoff is, and I'm willing to make it because an eternity with you will be worth it."

"I'm not so sure."

"I am.  Let me prove it to you."

She reflected in silence for a moment, and then, unexpectedly, she let out a laugh. 

"What's funny?"

"Not funny, per se.  Just sort of amusing.  I'm worried that you're giving me too much and you're worried that you're not giving me enough."

I laughed with her.  "I see your point.  Can we at least agree how lucky we are right now?  To be here together.  Hopefully with the worst behind us."

She nodded.  "That sounds right to me."  And she closed the small space between us to kiss me. 

As if on cue, the sunshine peeked through the clouds, and I saw the light reflect off my skin onto hers.  It seemed that for the time being, our worries were forgotten, and we melted into the Elysium of our meadow.

Bella lay in the grass with her head in my lap.  I smoothed her hair, decorating it with flowers from the meadow, while she made daisy chains. 

She looked like springtime personified, Persephone herself.  The likeness didn't fill me with dread as it once did, because I knew now she was joining me freely, of her own accord, and that no matter how much she was about to change, she would bring a bit of springtime with her. 

I was reminded of our first summer together, so many of those early days spent here in our meadow.  It was one place I didn't have to remain in the shadows, where I could give her as many sunny days as the skies of Washington would allow.  

I used to hate going out in the sun, dreaded being seen like that, even by my family who shared the same secret.  But now, after long days of seeing myself shine in her eyes, watching the way her whole face lit up when she saw me, it made the dazzling sight not so scary.  I could face any fear when she looked at me like that. 

I don't know how long we stayed in the meadow; time seemed to stand still there.  But eventually, more clouds rolled in and drops of rain started to fall.  Bella got up and the flowers fell from her hair, but she still held the daisy chain in her hand.  

In no time, we were back in the car, driving home.  Bella fiddled with the radio until she found an oldies station dedicated to 60s and 70s music.  I'd once told her of my general distaste for the popular music of those decades.  While I still had not warmed to disco, I had listened to Bella's preferences with new ears; her favorites had grown on me.  Now I found it easier to relate to the more mellow, optimistic tunes of the era.  

The song that came on was Wouldn't It Be Nice by The Beach Boys.  How appropriate: the eagerness of young love, the unwillingness to wait.

I saw Bella tap her fingers on the car door to the rhythm of the upbeat song, an indication of her sunny mood.

"You know, it's still not too late to go to Vegas."  My tone was teasing, but my offer was completely sincere.  "We could be there in a few days."

"Alice would stop us."

"She can try ."

"She will ."  We both laughed and then her expression became serious again.  "And she would be right to.  Because, as scary as it is, I want this.  I want everyone I love to be together one last time.  I want everyone to see how happy I am with my decision and how much I love you.  And I want the chance to say goodbye...without it being so sad."

I took her hand and kissed the back of it.  "Sounds like a good plan to me."

We were nearly home when a song came on the radio that I instantly recognized: The Air That I Breathe by The Hollies—a newly acquired favorite.  I smiled and started singing to Bella.  She smiled and blushed her irresistible blush.  

Bella insisted that she wasn't a singer.  She usually hated to have people hear her.  I knew that she occasionally would sing in the car with her mother, but it seemed that was more in an effort to please her than for enjoyment of singing.  The first time I had requested to hear her sing, she flat out refused, flushed with profound embarrassment.  I had offered to sing with her, but she claimed her voice would only mar mine.  Still, there were a few times when we were alone like this when I could coax a few softly sung lines from her.  This was one of those lucky occasions.  

Staring out the windshield where the sun shone behind the clouds, she took up the chorus. 

Sometimes, all I need is the air that I breathe and to love you.

I soon pulled into the garage and Bella and I headed into the house.  Alice was waiting for us, of course. 

Before she could pounce, I made my apologies.  "Sorry we threw a wrench into your plans, Alice.  I promise, tomorrow I am completely at your mercy."

She was surprisingly nonchalant about it.  "It's okay.  I got some shopping done."  And then she was mentally translating, which immediately made me suspicious of whatever it was she bought. 

"Of course you did."

Alice turned to Bella.  "There are cake samples in the kitchen waiting to be tasted."

"Yum," Bella said with put-on enthusiasm.  

I made a decision, and then stared at Alice, waiting for her to object.  

There was a vague annoyance in her thoughts as she saw what I had planned, but she didn't reject the idea outright. 

Fine, if you must, she conceded, looking upstairs and then back to me.

I smiled.  "Bella, I believe you wanted to see my suit?"

She raised her eyebrows and smiled back.  "Yes, please."