Title: 91 minutes
Pairing: Bella, Edward, Alice, Charlie, Jacob (Edward/Bella)
Summary: "91 minutes before schedule, Bella's hair and make up were done, and she had to stand awkwardly in front of the mirror to avoid wrinkling her gown. With plenty of time to think." The morning before Bella and Edward's wedding, from different perspectives.
Spoilers: Nothing specific
A/N: Thanks to recycledfaery for the prompts and becoolbec for the beta.
Frankly, Bella felt a little cheated. Everyone had told her that on the D-Day, there wouldn't be a minute spare to think. Obviously, those people didn't know Alice Cullen very well. 91 minutes before schedule, Bella's hair and make up were done, and she had to stand awkwardly in front of the mirror to avoid wrinkling her gown. With plenty of time to think.
"How are you feeling?" Esme asked as she stepped behind her and put a reassuring cold hand on her shoulder.
"I'm... not sure," Bella muttered, her eyes glued to her reflection.
"You look so beautiful."
And she did. All those agonizing hours running after Alice on her quest for the perfect dress were paying off, at long last. Their eyes met in the mirror and Esme's gaze was so sweet, so benevolent and empathic Bella had to look away for fear of ruining Alice's hard work.
"It's okay to be scared."
"Is Edward scared?" Bella asked hopefully, and Esme chuckled.
"Oh, dear, you have no idea."
"Will you stop messing with those damn cufflinks? They're fine. You're fine. Settle down already."
"Thank you, Emmett, that's very helpful," Edward said acidly and glared at his brother
"Will you at least stop pacing?" Emmett asked and pushed Edward down on the couch. The look Edward shot him clearly conferred that if he wasn't worried about ruining his pristine suit, they'd be brawling and he would win. But there was only an hour and a half left before he got married to Bella so it would have to wait.
Getting married. To Bella. In 91 minutes. His mind could barely wrap itself around that.
"It's going to be alright, little brother."
"That's easy for you to say, you've been through this twenty times already."
"Eighteen. Eighteen times. And I remember every single one of them."
"Were you terrified the first time?"
"No," Emmett shrugged. "I was too busy ogling Rose in her wedding dress. She looked spectacular. You know, I think I always had a thing for brides."
"If I catch you ogling Bella, I'll have to pummel you."
"Not it that suit, you won't," Emmett replied and wiggled his eyebrows.
Stop overthinking it. You'll be fine. She's perfect for you.
"I know," Edward smirked. "I'll still pummel you tomorrow, you know?"
Not only were they on schedule, but they were early. As she surveyed the tastefully decorated dining room, Alice decided she was the best wedding planner ever, and she'd seen all the movies. If she ever was to pursue any lucrative activity, this would have to be the one. The flowers were perfect. Bella was gorgeous and all ready to go. And the food looked so pretty Alice was almost jealous of the human guests.
If she tried hard enough, she could visualize Bella standing in the church, hear the admiring murmurs of the crowd, the ruffle of her layered dress as she waked down the aisle. Edward's dumbstruck expression was the cherry on the cake, so to speak.
Oh, she was good. So good.
The morning before his baby daughter got married, Charlie Swan woke up at 4 am and drove to Calawah to catch a few trouts.
To say he wasn't happy about the event was a gross understatement, but there wasn't anything he could do about it now. It was too late. She was too resolute. And it was all his fault. Maybe if he'd been more present, more available or more authoritarian, she wouldn't have clung to the Cullen boy like a lifeboat. Something had gone horribly wrong in her short time here in Forks, and there was no one to blame but himself.
There wasn't any trout in that damn river. And his baby daughter was getting married in 91 minutes.
The wrinkled invitation was nagging him from inside the drawer, but he would not give in. There was no way in hell he'd go and stand idly as he watched her throw away her life to him. No way.
His dress pants and the matching jacket were mocking him from the corner of the room where he'd thrown them the last time he'd changed his mind.
"Damn," Jacob hissed and grabbed the suit as carelessly as he could. At least it was going to look thoroughly rumpled. And he wasn't going to wear a tie. He would not give them the satisfaction of being dressed up on the day the girl of his dreams married his worst enemy. Surely the suit was going to end in shreds, anyway.
91 minutes. He could easily run to the church and back, if he ever changed his mind.