AN: Not beta'd all mistakes my own. This is it, people.
Chapter 16: Hasof or Hatchala?
"You sure about this?" My dad asked.
"Honey, you can change your mind. It is perfectly natural. I know you have been through a lot this week, but it's not too late," said my mom.
"No, it's fine. The ketubah is already signed. This has been a long time coming. Come on it's time."
The onsite coordinator opened the door and gave us the nod as I took my parents arms. It was amazing we got here, because a few days ago, I had been pissed at Edward and his family. His mom was still annoying, but I was trying to let her way of overdoing everything spoil this for me… for us.
The Esme Cullenman show aka the rehearsal dinner went off just fine. Our bridal party was great and went through the rehearsal quickly and then the Cullenmans really stepped it up for the dinner. It was about half of the guest list to the wedding. I left early as I needed my beauty rest, but from what I understand the Cullenmans and their friends hosted an after-party in their hotel suites that went on to the early morning. My parents were not like that at all.
Edward looked amazing in his tuxedo. We had already seen one another during the signing of the marriage contract – the ketubah. It was a tradition and we had picked out a gorgeous Ketubah that we planned to have framed and put up in our apartment.
"Only Jews would start off marriage with a contract," Edward had joked. It wasn't like a prenuptial agreement with the financial ramifications, but it did lay out the obligations of the husband to his wife and was then signed by both parties and witnessed.
The faces on the sides of the aisles were blurs. All I saw was Edward and his parents and our bridal party and the Rabbi and the Cantor all under the chuppah. Edward met me the end and from there I circled him seven times.
I had to fight for that one. The Rabbi prefers a more modern take on the tradition of the bride circling the groom, where they share the duty – each walking around the other three times and then walking around an imaginary point once together. We stuck to the traditional.
My hands shook as I took a sip of wine after it had been blessed. Thankfully, someone had the foresight to put white wine in the glass rather than red wine. I still didn't spill on my dress, but I felt like I came close.
The Rabbi started talking again, but everything was such a blur. The rings it was time to exchange the rings. Who had them. Edward. That's right he had given them to Emmett.
"Your hand, Bella. Give Edward your hand and extended your right index finger," instructed the Rabbi.
The Rabbi broke up the words in Hebrew and Edward repeated each phrase after him, perfectly, of course.
Then he repeated in English, "Behold, you are consecrated to me with this ring according to the law of Moses and Israel."
Then it was Edward's turn to stick out his finger and my turn to recite.
"Ani l'dodi,"the Rabbi said and I repeated.
"Ve dodi li."
"Now repeat after me in English, I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine."
I took a deep breath. Years of laughter, sexual peaks and valleys, so much love and so much heartache; it all seemed like it was coming to an end, but it wasn't. Nothing was really going to change but everything, nothing and my name.
I looked up at Edward again, because frankly I was finding the floor fascinating. "I am my beloved, and my beloved is mine," I said sliding the ring on Edward's finger.
I couldn't help but tell myself a joke, because I had done so many things to that very finger – sucked it, had it fuck me, caress me. Gawd I was horny. There had better be some wedding night sexing happening tonight. What was wrong with me to be thinking about this during my wedding. I was a perv. Definitely, a total pervert.
The Rabbi continued with the seven blessings over the bride and the groom. Some of it sounded familiar and not just from the other weddings we had been to, but from summer camp.
They and again this is a they that is unknown, but they say to enjoy your wedding because it goes by so quickly. Well it did. No sooner did the Rabbi finish the blessings, reading of our ketubah, but Edward was smashing a glass, well actually, a light bulb in a satin pouch and kissing me.
I almost tripped on our way back down the aisle, not tripped slipped. I don't think anyone noticed. They were all singing Mazel Tov. I think I ate a lamb chop during our happy hour. Our guests were enjoying past hor d'oeuvres and stations of food. Not a ton just a few. It wasn't crazy like Alice's wedding where she even had a brick oven pizza and caviar station, but it was nice and tasteful. Edward and I were outside taking pictures of just the two of us with our photographer.
"Please put your hands together for Mr. and Mrs. Edward Cullenman," the band leader called out. That was our cue as we walked into the reception room.
The band broke out into Etta James' At Last. We began to dance in the center of the dance floor. I hated that all eyes were on us. Dance lessons had never fit into our schedule and I hated when the first dance looked too choreographed anyways so we were totally winging this. It may be a little off, but I would rather be off than Edward counting along to the beats.
The band then invited our parents, then the rest of the wedding party to join us. I looked around at everyone who had come from near and far to celebrate with us. I was glad we made it easy for them by having everything in a hotel. We had too many people from out of town to make the schlep all over Seattle.
Some people say hotel ballrooms are too generic for their wedding, but as Edward twirled me around and I saw all of the people who had supported us through our childhood, college, grad school and now – I couldn't help but think of how special our wedding venue truly was.
The music changed and before I knew what was happening, I was being put in one of the chairs as two guys attempted to lift me into the center of the Hora circle. I looked over and saw a bunch of guys lifting him up. Do they not realize that there are four legs on a chair? Why are they only holding two. The chair started to dip a bit.
Edward looked over at me and saw the fear on my face. You hear these stories about brides or grooms getting dropped during the Hora. Not just dropped but permanent brain damage kind of falls. I don't know if it's true, but I really didn't want to be carried off in an ambulance.
"Put me down or get more support," I cried as the two guys lifting me put down my chair. Edwards soon followed.
Feet on the ground felt good.
How many hairpins could be in one woman's head? I tried to help Bella take all of the pins out, but I must have done it wrong, because I started yanking on her hair and she screamed out in pain and not in that good way.
"Screw your hair," I pleaded. "Just come to bed."
The hotel had covered the bed in the bridal suite in rose petals and left us with some champagne. Not that we needed to drink anymore. The catering people at the hotel had been briefed on our favorite drinks and we always had one throughout the entire reception. It really did go by quickly.
She was mine. Mine. Mrs. Edward Cullenman. At least that's what it said on the tush of her boyshorts.
Oh. Fuck me. Oh, wait she was about to.
"Why, hello there Mr. Cullenman," Bella whispered, with her best come hither look as she plopped onto the bed next to me, wearing only her Mrs. Edward Cullenman undies. Face. Look at her face, but oh. I glance at her tits they looked phenomenal. Zayin was ready, willing and able to serve.
I turned to her. "So, how does it feel to be Mrs. Cullenman?"
She paused for second, pursing her lips together. "Besides, having to share the title with your mom? It feels pretty fucking awesome."
It sure did.
~Hasof or Hatchala? (the End or the Beginning in Hebrew) ~
AN: So, little Kosherward and Jewella got married. This is where I am ending the story. I could write more, but they got together. It was fine. No, a giant meteorite never fell from space and struck Esme. I am sure they will have their ups and downs – tears and joys of life. Most of the wedding stuff was taken from my wedding. Yes, even the kippot at the aufruf – happened to me. You would think seven years later it wouldn't bother me, but it still irks me to no end when my mother in law uses them for holidays.
For anyone who has ever left a review, your review is a tiny bit of sunshine in my inbox – thank you for sharing your thoughts with me. Huge thanks to all of my betas through my entire writing experience and all of the people chat with me on twitter.
I am on twitter – stupidreader. Hit me up sometime. I am done writing for a while. I have no time. So, shalom, bitches.
Oh, and if you want to look up anything I mentioned on here the Wikipedia page on Jewish weddings is actually pretty decent. I was going to include everything from my wedding program on here, but I couldn't find it.