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CHAPTER THREE ʙʀɪᴅᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ
The sound of Wagner's traditional march flooded through the halls as Rosalie sat at the piano, her fingers gracing the keys with several embellishments. At the bottom of the stairs, Bella's face was as white as paper, her lips pulled between her teeth, lipstick miraculously unsmudged. Between her manicured hands, was a bouquet of snow coloured flowers, neatly tied by a satin bow.
"Easy, Bells," Charlie said as her grip tightened around his arm. His eyes slid nervously our way. "She looks a little sick. Do you think she's going to make it?"
"She'd better," Alice said as she stood forward on the tips of her toes, taking herself to eye level before she held her wrists to speak. "Focus, Bella. Edward is waiting for you down there."
Fighting the urge to wipe her palms against her dress, Bella clutched the flower bouquet close to her chest and forced a nod.
"Yes. Edward. Okay," she whispered.
The piano music seemed to grow louder and I took Alice's arm lightly. "It's our turn."
She nodded, turning to Bella for the last time before she'd walk down the aisle. "Count to five and follow us."
Alice led, her dress wrapped around her feet in a swathing ripple of silver silk, like sparkling spiderwebs in damp treetops. Her hands were wrapped around a smaller bouquet of baby's breath and eucalyptus, the same that tickled the tops of my knuckles. She walked purposefully and yet effortlessly, her movements so perfect that she almost seemed to be floating. I could hear the hitch in Bella's breath from behind; the raising of her heartbeat.
Up ahead, we spread out, standing beside the altar, beneath the canopy of white blossoms, opposite to Carlisle who stood closest to Edward. His golden eyes were already trained on the carpet where she would emerge, his hands enlaced together neatly against his suit. As a thrill in the music erupted, his chin lifted, face breaking into an expression of overwhelming desperation. I could name that look- I called it pure love.
A single second later, Bella stepped out onto the aisle, dark eyes momentarily taking in the masses of floral decoration as she clung to her father, struggling to keep in time with the steps of the rhythm. Then she found Edward waiting for her at the end of her pathway. The subtle movements of her flawless face stilled and it was clear from a single gesture- the slow blinking of her lashes and gentle smile- that all worries had melted away, burning into excitement. Everyone else had disappeared, blurring into the colours of the walls, of the flowers, of the ornaments.
As she took her last step toward her new life, Charlie took Bella's hand and slowly placed it into Edward's. He stepped away and the ceremony began, as old and traditional as Edward himself. The vows were classic- so much so that I faintly had memories of my mother saying the same words, for that had been the last wedding I'd attended. Rings were exchanged and Mr Webber announced them husband and wife.
