Chapter Text
Imogen always knew she'd become a Nelson.
It's funny. Imogen's thought about this day since she was a bright-eyed little girl, even more so when she started to realise what a wedding actually meant. From the flowers to the music to the dress, she's imagined it to a T. She’s imagined the song they’d dance to and the flavour of their cake and what their wedding parties would wear. She’s imagined everything. She’s got the Pinterest board to prove it.
And yet… She never imagined she’d be this happy.
She’s staring at her new in-laws across the room, conversing with her father at the DJ table, with a besotted smile on her pink lips. She’s so glad that the people she loves most in the world get along like they’re family themselves. Though she always knew Mum and Daddy would adore the Nelsons. Mum and Sarah are cut from the same cloth really.
It’s like this union was written in the stars.
Daddy gives a raucous laugh at whatever Nick says to him and Imogen has to stop herself from giggling too, sipping her pinot noir. The waitresses come out with trays of champagne glasses, including nonalcoholic champagne for the guests who don’t drink alcohol, and she thanks the waitress for hers, setting her dinner wine down beside an empty salad plate.
Then there’s the telltale sound of a metal spoon tapping against delicate glass, and the chatter that’s currently filling the room gradually quietens, everyone following Daddy in tapping their own glasses. Daddy smiles at Imogen from across the room and she smiles back at him as he begins his speech.
He tells the story that Imogen hates first, the time she was five and in Year One when she chased a boy through the playground to try and kiss him. It was something her mum had told her people who love each other do, and the boy declared that he loved her after she shared her Fruit Wind-up with him. Imogen spends most of the speech with red cheeks that ache from smiling, hiding behind her champagne glass, her favourite laugh echoing in her ears beside her. Then Daddy ends the speech with an anecdote that Imogen has always been a very happy child, but she seemed exuberant after a certain sixteenth birthday party, and that he loves the newest addition to their ‘family of misfits’. He raises his champagne glass, waiting for everyone to follow him, and toasts to his forever-happy daughter and the love of her life. Everyone repeats the sentiment, sending their gazes to the sweetheart table as they sip. Daddy winks at Imogen. Her heart feels like bursting. Then he passes the microphone to Nick.
Imogen’s not ashamed to say that her heart still stops momentarily at his love-filled smile, lighting his entire face up like a million little fairy lights. Especially when it’s thrown in her direction. She’s only human, after all.
“Good evening, everyone,” he starts smoothly. “I’m Nick. Honestly, if you didn’t already know that, I’d question why you’re even here. Come on, now.”
He sets off a laughing crowd, which makes Imogen roll her eyes good-naturedly, before he brings the microphone back to his mouth, slipping his free hand into his trouser pocket. He looks so effortless here, so at-home. Like he belongs in front of a crowd, which makes sense with his recently-ended semi-pro rugby career path. Imogen can’t keep her eyes off him.
“So, I’m going to start this differently than you all might be expecting me to, and I know I’m going to offend a lot of people here when I say that Imogen is probably my best friend,” he says and grins at the playful squawks of disapproval cascading from various tables around the ballroom. Darcy actually tries to climb onto their chair to start a protest. “I’m sorry, but it’s true! Imogen is a special kind of person. I think I speak for both Mum and I, at least, that she’s sort of become a pseudo-Nelson since we were sixteen. She always seems to know the right thing to say, and the right time to back off and mind her own business. After our school days of course. Don’t think I’ve forgotten you trying to see, and I quote, ‘whose DMs I’ve slid into’ in Year Eleven, Immy!”
“Hey, you were being all gooey!” she defends through the lighthearted laughter that’s taken over the room. “I had to find out!”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Nick grins. “I took you for granted in those early years, Im. I know I did, but we’ve talked endlessly about it and, now, we’re past it. Clearly. Imogen’s everything a person could want in a girl. She’s beautiful, she’s sweet and kind, she’s ambitious and boisterous and outspoken and she’s unapologetically Imogen Heaney. And I think, in my personal opinion, that’s why she’s perfect for my wonderful twin sister, Emma.”
Imogen’s smile grows impossibly wider as she turns to face her wife, whose cheeks are turning adorably pink at her brother’s words. Imogen giggles, smacking an exaggerated kiss to Emma’s cheek, and rests her head on Emma’s shoulder, causing Emma to instinctively nuzzle into the touch. This is where Imogen knows she’s meant to be. Everything makes sense around Emma, it always has.
Despite her nature to be driven and outspoken, life has been utterly confusing to Imogen, ever since she was little. She remembers telling Emma, during the weird time they spent dancing on the line of friendship and relationship, how she felt like a goldfish in an ocean, out of place and scared because she never expected to feel the feelings that were threatening to drown her. She remembers how Emma had seamlessly, effortlessly rationalised those feelings, validating her anxiety and confusion when she could’ve easily just cast Imogen aside because she’d been hurt one too many times.
Nick might’ve taken Imogen for granted in their youth, but Imogen had taken Emma for granted, had used her to experiment and played with her heart when she knew Emma loved hard and had trauma. The time she’d called their first kiss a fluke and ‘not even real’ had destroyed Emma and it nearly broke their relationship before it’d even begun. That was the first time Imogen had truly felt heartbreak. The shock that turned into devastation on Emma’s face before she ran off and the glare from Darcy before they followed her settled in Imogen’s body, ran through her veins like blood, and she froze where she sat. She remembers the stare Nick had given her, so similar to his sister’s, and she knew she never wanted to be on the receiving end of those stares again. So she’d done everything to win Emma’s trust again and show her that she really was trying. She wouldn’t have been surprised if Emma had decided to never trust her again.
But Emma had eventually let her in, and the most beautiful love story Imogen had ever known began.
“If Imogen is my best friend, then Emma is my other half,” Nick continues with a soft smile on his face, one Imogen refers to as his ‘Emma smile’. “I’ve always been protective over Emma, she was always the shy one in our family, always one to be seen in the corner of the room with headphones on, instead of in the middle of the action.”
Emma rolls her eyes and calls out, “I thought you weren’t going to rinse me, Nicky!”
“Sorry, Emmy, it’s my duty,” he replies with a grin and everyone laughs as Emma sticks up her middle finger.
Imogen laughs and kisses Emma’s cheek. Nick smiles wider.
“As I was saying before I got rudely interrupted,” he says before sticking his tongue out at Emma, who returns the gesture, making Sarah laugh from her nearby table. “I’ve always been protective over my sister, especially when she was having trouble at school and started being less and less herself. I was always wary when people took an interest in her, sorry for that, Christian, and I never thought anyone would be good enough for her. And that is when Imogen came barreling in with her own sexuality crisis and started mooning over Emma. As I watched them grow, both as individuals and as a couple falling in love, I didn't feel like I always had to be the one to protect my sister anymore because, well, Imogen was already doing that. She was protecting her, and loving her, and showering her with every form of affection she could and I just knew, after a couple of giant hurdles, that these two could get through anything as long as they had each other.”
Imogen feels tears well up in her eyes as she looks at Emma. Emma makes a soft cooing sound, stroking a stray hair out of Imogen’s face and tucking it in her flower crown, before pressing their lips together. Imogen giggles a little as they pull away.
“Imogen, thank you for loving my sister like you do,” Nick says earnestly before reaching for his champagne flute. “It’s hard to beat my love for her but, alas, you’ve done it, and I’m so glad you have.”
Then he raises his glass and everyone follows, beaming at the two brides.
“To Mrs and Mrs Heaney-Nelson.”
Everyone echoes Nick’s claim, Emma and Imogen smiling at the gazes set upon them, sipping their drinks as Nick gives the microphone back to the DJ.
Once dinner had been consumed, everyone full and satisfied, Imogen and Emma split up to mingle with their guests. As Imogen approaches her table of bridesmaids, who are all of her old university friends, they gush over Nick’s speech, and Imogen can’t stop smiling.
Emma’s on the other side of the ballroom, chatting and giggling with Darcy as they try to rope her into doing a shot with them and Elle, and Imogen’s heart flutters. She never imagined that she’d end up here, standing in a princess ball gown in her dream wedding venue, married to the best person she’d ever known. Even before she knew her intense-but-totally-platonic feelings for her best friend weren’t so platonic, she’d deemed Emma the best person in her life. She’s everything Imogen isn’t. She’s reserved and quiet, but thoughtful and sweet. She’s caring and kind and good. She’s perfect.
And Imogen falls in love with her more and more every single day.
They meet in the middle of the gaggle of tables, next to Emma’s grandparents, aunt, uncle and cousins, who, like every other Nelson she knows, have taken Imogen in as their own. Diane kisses both of the girls on the cheek, telling them how beautiful everything is, and Roger hands Emma an envelope. Emma rolls her eyes affectionately.
“Grandpa, you shouldn’t,” she scolds.
“Nonsense,” he retorts. “I did it for David and his wife, and for Nick and Charlie. Only fair you girls get it, too.”
Emma hugs him tight and Imogen smiles at the interaction before taking the envelope from Emma, asking her maid-of-honour to put it on the table with the wedding presents.
“Thank you, Mr. Nelson,” she says as she hugs him.
“Oh, come now, Imogen,” he replies. “You’ve been part of our family for a long time. I think we can drop the formalities.”
She giggles and nods, her smile widening as he kisses her cheek before they break apart. He winks and sits back down beside his wife as Emma slides her arms around Imogen’s waist from behind. Imogen melts at her touch.
“Hi, my love,” Emma whispers, grinning at the way Imogen smiles coyly.
“Hi, honeybuns,” she returns, spinning around in Emma’s arms to look up at her.
Emma’s eyes have always reminded Imogen of molten amber - golden in some lights and deep, deep brown in others but no less captivating. They sparkle like diamonds when she laughs, and grow stormy when she’s sad or upset. They remind her of mood rings. Imogen can always tell how Emma’s feeling with just a glimpse, and right now… all she sees is unadulterated love. How grateful Imogen is to be on the receiving end of that.
“I think we should have our first dance now, don’t you?”
Imogen grins but doesn’t say anything, just lets her wife pull her on the dance floor as the first notes of You Are In Love by Taylor Swift start to echo through the ballroom. The chatter dies down and she can feel everyone’s eyes on them, but she’s only focused on Emma, the way she lays her hands on Emma’s shoulders, how Emma’s hands fit perfectly around her waist. She watches, transfixed, the way Emma’s diamond nose stud glitters under the fairy lights, and giggles shrilly as confetti in the colours of the lesbian flag start to rain down on them. She shares a look with her wife, who’s grinning too.
“Darcy,” they giggle in unison.
Emma pulls Imogen closer towards her so Imogen can lay her head in the crook of Emma’s neck as they sway, breathing in her scent like oxygen. Emma nuzzles at the touch, pressing her lips to Imogen’s head before starting to sing along to their song.
Imogen feels at home, in a way she’s never felt before. This is it, this is who she is and where she’s meant to be. After years of uncertainty, she’s finally found the answer.
Imogen always knew she’d become a Nelson. But she never knew it’d feel this perfect.