What if Royce had been unsuccessful on the dark street that night? What if Rosalie had actually married him?

This is my version of how it could have gone for Rosalie, a character created by Stephanie Meyer.

Chapter 2: PreparationsThe Dress

I was prepared to be dissatisfied with the finished dress. I mean they couldn't seem to understand simple instructions. The timid women pulled the dress over my head and carefully buttoned the modest but tight fitting bodice. The front was antique lace, painstakingly beaded with jewels and pearls. The lacey sleeves were long, coming down daintily in a point over my wrists. The straight skirt of the dress was exquisite white linen with beads and diamonds dangling from the bodice on shiny thin ribbons. The train was adorned with the matching antique lace and jewels.

The veil, made of white silk tulle, was studded with diamonds. It was made especially for me to complement my blonde hair that would be swept up off my neck, encircling my face with curls.

Try as I might, I couldn't find anything wrong with the dress. I looked radiant. I loved standing on the pedestal in the small sewing room. Multiple mirrors allowed me to see myself from all angles. I was satisfied that no other bride could be as beautiful.

I had specifically banned Royce from coming to the fitting. A groom shouldn't see his beloved in her dress before the big day. Even so, my feelings were hurt because he didn't even offer to take me to the home of the seamstress. Secretly I wanted him to be waiting patiently outside to return me home. My mother took me instead. Oh well, Felix his best man had arrived from Atlanta. I'm sure he was playing the impeccable host.

I was exhausted after the fitting, and feeling out of sorts. I went home and fussed about the refreshments that were to be served in just five short days. I kept remembering the way Royce had looked at me as I outlined my desires to the caterer. Royce kept saying 'whatever she wants', but then he would wave me off.

I didn't care for his attitude so I insisted that we serve fresh fruit, shrimp on toast points, mushrooms stuffed with imported caviar, prime rib, roasted vegetables and individual cheesecakes. It was impetuous of me to insist on the most expensive things, but we were royalty in this community. Our wedding should embody that.

I wanted him to be involved in all the planning, but he would just tighten his jaw and look away. He considered this 'woman's work'. Vera told me Raymond had been the same way. She told me "men don't care about this kind of thing". I supposed she was right, but still I would pout when he looked at me.

The Cake

The next morning my mother and I went to visit the bakery where the wedding cake was being made. Royce had accused me of being lavish as I had meticulously drawn out what my dream cake would look like. His mother, Jane, had shushed him whenever he'd say anything. She liked me, I was sure of it. She had only Royce, I would be the daughter she never had. I envisioned shopping trips and celebrity dinner parties when I considered my new family. I was glad she liked me, but then everyone did. Why not her too?

The cake was going to have five layers in graduated sizes. A fitting monument to the King name. The first, third and fifth layers would be chocolate cake rounds and the second and fourth would be squares of vanilla cake. Each would have white frosting covering them, ready for the intricate decorations. Every layer would sport a different color of fondant roses culminating in the final, smallest tier covered with pink roses surrounding a miniature bride and groom.

Why shouldn't I have the cake I had dreamed about? The King's owned the bakery; we could request anything. That's why I knew that the individual cheesecakes I insisited on for the wedding were not nearly as extravagant as Royce had led me to believe. Essentially these people were his employees. He could make them do whatever I wanted. And I wanted a five-tier cake. I would get it. I was sure Jane agreed.

I love reviews! Let me know what you are thinking!