Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns. No copyright infringement is meant.
Joy and Hurt
"Remember when …
We vowed the vows, and walked the walk,
Gave our hearts, made the start, it was hard,
We lived and learned, life threw curves
There was joy, there was hurt
Remember when …" —Alan Jackson
. . .
Edward's POV
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Not all walks of life are happy, or leave one feeling whole for infinite moments, and perhaps that's how it's meant to be. Or so I remind myself.
Yet as she walks towards me, simple white dress flowing behind her, it hardly matters that not many are here to witness this. So much of my life seems invested in this woman, and I truly don't want it another way. Beautiful music accompanies each step she takes towards me. Even her brilliant smile cannot be dimmed.
Instead of the traditional wedding march, our song plays softly over a stereo as she comes to me. Her golden hair is only brightened by the sun as violet eyes sparkle with eloquently happy tears. I know she feels no sadness on this day. It's something we've both promised each other not to feel.
For once, we put aside the drama leading up to this blessed occasion and focus on what's important and everlasting: our love. I know my thoughts seem too sugary, but I make allowances for today. During his wedding, a man is entitled to be disgustingly sweet and flowery in both thought and speech. The fact that my bride inspires so much more in me is rightly understood and doesn't need excuse.
As she reaches me and our hands extent out for each other, everything else flees from my mind. In the face of such exquisiteness how could it not.
Brilliant tears makes her eyes look like a watery purple jewel, but the smile on her face eclipses even the eyes I love so much. If possible, I would say her smile stretches for miles and I wonder if mine looks the same.
"I love you," I can help but silently mouth to her, willing her to feel the uttermost depths of my affection for her. So much is coursing through me, but the thing which remains constant is my abiding love and a certainty in knowing we are making the correct decision.
When she looks at me with such devotion and trust it only affirms our decision all the more.
I can hear a camera clicking and wind rustling over the white-capped waves, but even the noise cannot draw my full attention away from Rosalie.
I squeeze her hand as I listen to the words I'm asked to repeat. I, Edward, will always take my Rose in heart, spirit and body, putting her before me in everything, never denying her my love, affection and all that I have. Whether in sickness or in health I will love her for eternity.
Hearing her repeat the vowels we make and the promises we whisper to each other are eloquently reiterated in her lovely violet eyes: the window to her exquisite spirit.
As the officiator gives me permission to kiss my wife – the person I want to love forever – my hands cup around her wet cheeks and pull her closer to my wanton, waiting lips. As our spoken promises are sealed with our fervent kisses, a smattering of applause can hardly be heard.
Feeling both over-elated and cheeky, I dip my new wife (her golden tresses touching the sand) and cover her excited giggles with my hungry lips. I cannot imagine myself ever getting enough of this woman before me.
"I love you, Rosalie Cullen," I mumble between kisses, my mouth still touching hers.
"I love you, Edward Hale," she jokes, trying to laugh, kiss and push her love through me all at once. "Edward Cullen . . . my husband."
After thoroughly kissing her mouth cheeks and once on her ivory neck, I pull her back up and encircle her waist. We both turn to those who have witnessed our first step in to marriage and bask in their gaiety and happiness.
I know some of our friends cannot understand our need to marry so young or our immense connection that we share, but the fact that they are even hear speaks so much louder than their doubts.
Even Rosalie's tipsy mother has come to watch our wedding. Though we both know her to be a gold-digger, I appreciate her being here nonetheless.
So much more than I can say for my parents . . .
But I push the dismal thoughts from me. I refuse to be anything but happily fulfilled on this glorious day. Rosalie's arm clasped tightly around me and the feel of her excited heart beating into my mine overcomes anything negative. Too much beauty is before me to allow darkness to overshadow. It doesn't matter about my parent's refusal to accept my wife . . . my wife; I love the sound of that.
.
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Three months before
—
"Edward, you cannot be serious. Take a moment to think about what you just said." I want to laugh mirthlessly at my parents. I want to rage and scream at them for not supporting me, but most of all, I want to take away the hurt look from my fiancée's face as she studies my parents and their terrible disapproval.
From the beginning of our relationship my parents have frowned on Rosalie and the supposed drama she's brought into my life. After learning we were a couple and hearing the rumors of my new girlfriend from 'concerned neighbors', my parents have discouraged me from dating her.
"Such awful rumors about her past, son." . . .
"That boy's family had to move."
"Wild and loved to party." . . .
"Her morals are reported to be terribly skewed, Edward darling. Surely you see how that must reflect on you and your reputation. We only want the best for you." . . .
"Her mother is an awful lush and hardly even sober enough to watch over her teenage daughter."
No matter how much I argued or try to persuade them otherwise, my parents refused to budge. And I guess, me too.
Sadly they refused to really "see" Rosalie Hale and the beautifully soft person she was. Granted Rose hadn't allow me to tell my parents of her anguish and all that really happened in her past, but that shouldn't have mattered. My love and acceptance of her should have been enough for my parents. Never had I known them to be so jaded and cynical towards a person before.
"I know what I said, mother." I tighten my grasp around Rose's hand, trying to infuse all the love I feel for her into the warm flesh. I will it to go from my heart to her.
"Then you must hear how absurd and crazy it sounds."
"There is nothing crazy about our wishes. You may not approve and you may not like it, but this is the most logical next step for us."
Disbelieving laughter makes it way from Esme Cullen. I can tell how much my mother thinks I am – quote on quote – "throwing away my life and making the biggest mistake of my life" with Rose, but she won't dissuade me.
"Esme, please," my father intones, trying to infuse some calm into the situation, but I know both my mother and I are past that point. We are too much like each other: stubborn to a fault.
"No Carlisle! Our son is throwing his life away, at the age of eighteen, Carlisle . . . eighteen, to marry this girl!"
"Esme," my father says a little more harshly, but his wife refuses to back down.
"And what for? What is the logical possible reason that they have to be married now? NOW! Even before his first semester of college. What has she done to our son, Carlisle?"
Harsh tears sting my eyes as I take in my mother's angry face. Always I have been closer to her than my father. But as I take in her angry face and disbelieving words about Rose and myself, I cannot help but fight the tears wanting to spill.
As if sensing my overwhelming emotions, my loving girlfriend, brings our clasped hands to her lips and kisses my shaking fingers. She is pure gold.
Before my father or I can answer or try to further calm my mother, all of us hear my softly spoken Rose murmur, "Mrs. Cullen, please. Edward and I love each other. I know you may not like me much or approve of our wanting to get married, but I only want what is best for Edward. My intention is never to hurt him . . . or you both," she gestures with her free hand to my parents, "but I love him with everything in me."
I know it's taken a lot for Rose to speak up. Sadly she is scared of my parents and their disapproval of her. But most of all she doesn't want me fighting with them. She doesn't want to cause a rift between us. And though I understand her concerns and love her all the more for them, I have to be free to live my life. And no retaliation from my parents or threatening will pull me from her.
"If you loved him as you claim, girl, you wouldn't want him wasting his life on you or this sham of a marriage. My son is meant for bigger and better things and to think —"
Before she can finish her angry rant, I stand up and gently pull Rose with me. My ears, heart and love have taken enough.
"Enough!" I say emphatically. Screams may not be leaving my lips, but I am sure to make my words as forceful as possible. "Simply enough."
I try and will my tears from falling, but they won't be waylaid. This is what fighting with my parents and having my sensitive Rose here to witness it has reduced me to.
Thankfully my mother stops her bitter diatribe towards my girl and looks at me as if surprised.
"Growing up, I've been a witness to my parent's amazing love story. You've loved and supported dad in both his career and life. You may not have always been happy and he may not have always been around because of his job, but you've always been there for him, mom. Your love for each other overcame every trial and obstacle . . ."
"Edward," my parents simultaneously say, but I won't be stopped. It's my turn.
"And because of that, I wanted something similar. I wanted my wife to love and cherish me through the good times and bad times. Through happiness and mistakes I may make, because I am far from perfect.
I look to Rose, my best friend and lover, telling her so expressively through my eyes how much she is that girl for me and how much I love her, regardless.
"Somewhere along the way, I seemed to have forgotten that. I became selfish and conceited. I may not have bullied or knowingly been mean to people, but I was quite the little shit.
Sweet giggles leave Rose's parted lips. It was a running joke between us, given that I was quite the shit to her in the beginning.
"But the beginning of my junior year, after not even wanting to move here to begin with, I laid eyes on the most beautiful person I've ever seen. Not just physically, but in every way that truly matters. And my world shifted. For the better . . . even if I didn't know it at first."
Tears pour from my girl violet orbs as she softly studies me. I can see so much radiating from within her. But her two whispered words, "love you" say it all.
Our beginning may not have been the most romantic, but through being assigned partners for a class assignment and seeing past my contrived hatred for her, Rosalie became this other person to me. Unknowingly beguiling. I fell head over foot in love with her before I realized it myself. And hadn't stopped falling since.
I turn back to my parents with Rose's love fluttering within me. From here the words spoken and the decision I make is quite easy. "I don't need your blessings or approval, but oh how I wanted them. You gave me life and a wonderful one at that. And I love you both. But I have to live my life. Whether that makes me sound like a brat or ungrateful for everything you've done, I'm not sure and I'm sorry. But I love Rose and I am going to marry her at the end of the summer. You're welcome to come or not come. But I've had enough of your hatred of my future wife, mom and dad. And I'm done."
I give them one more meaningful look before tightening my hold on Rosalie's hand before gently pulling her from said hatred.
As we leave through the front door and make our way to my car, I can hear my parents coming toward us.
But I don't stop. I've said my peace and the ball is in their court.
I open the passage door for my love and wait for her to get in the car before making my way to the driver side. My mother's pleas for me to stop and think about the mistake I'm about to make roll off my back like water. I'm done.
And whether it ends up a mistake or the greatest adventure of my life, I know it to be the correct and right decision. Everything within me screams that this is the right path for me.
Driving away and feeling Rose's lovingly warm fingers tangled with mine is only further affirmation that I'm doing the right thing.
I cautiously turn to her again, wanting to make sure she is okay. As I express my love for her, she reaffirms hers at the same time. We both smile silly like teenagers on a first date. And though my heart is heavy, my soul is lightened with Rosalie Hale's love for me.
.
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Present
—
"Have I told you how unbelievably magnificent you look today, love?" I happily ask.
After a thoughtful lunch-in given to us by our friends at a nice restaurant and more pictures taken of us and those who attended our wedding, we made our way to our chosen hotel.
"As much as I've told you how handsome you are and how much you make me happy, Edward?" she recants. We both smile joyful smiles at each other, silently answering each other's questions.
I become serious, as I start to pull out the pins holding Rosalie's hair back. My thirsty eyes take in everything about my wife and her splendor. For surely she is the most sublime woman to grace this earth. My love for her overflows from every part of my body. I wonder if it creates a tangible blanket around us. Insulating us from anything ever wanting to hurt or break.
"Let me make love to you tonight, honey," I whisper hoarsely. Though I usually don't use such an old term as "making love", I find the words quite fitting and magical tonight.
"If I get to love you in return, Edward . . ."
"Always, lovely Rose," I whisper as my lips brush against hers. "Always."
It is a motto to which I hope to live the rest of my life with her.
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Author's Notes: Hope you enjoyed part two of five. Thank you to those who read and reviewed. It means a lot that you even find interest in my little story! Until next week, much love.
