You all amaze me with your patience and your reviews.

Nic, VampyreGirl86 and Hadley have somehow found time for me in their very busy real lives. Generous, good people I'm tellin' ya.

My love to you xxx


Chapter 29

The standoff between Carlisle and Nonna escalates into an argument. She hurls angry words at him in Italian, and he'll only respond in English. They move past the reason we're all out here—to reassess the courtyard's dimensions. It's like a fight that's been brewing for a while.

The collective conclusion is that we cannot hold a sit-down wedding here. Nonna maintains she can't budge on the numbers, stating she'll pay for an alternate venue rather than insult the family. Edward scoffs at her, saying she's insulting him by offering. I keep out of it because I don't want anyone knowing how disappointed I am, adding more pressure to the situation.

Nonna wants to go home, and Joey says he'll drive her. She claims she needs a walk to clear her head. When Edward offers to walk with her, she smiles, and they leave together quietly. I watch from the deck when she takes his arm as they descend the stairs into town.

Tanya comes out and hugs me. "We'll find somewhere else."

The whole day had been too perfect really—from our dresses and Alice's acceptance, to the food and the cake. Something had to go wrong. I should have known before this how many people Nonna was inviting, so I have to take part of the blame. When everyone cools down, maybe Nonna and I can have a rational discussion about who all these people are and if Edward and I will ever see them again. Just the thought of writing out another set of invitations makes the pain in my wrist return.

Pushing the negative thoughts back, I smile and reply, "Yeah, maybe we will, and I do have some good news. We're going to ask Jasper to be Alice's partner."

Tanya's grin is so big, I know it shouldn't matter where we hold the wedding. Sharing our celebration with incredible friends like her is what's important.

Edward texts me saying he won't be back for dinner. Nonna is apparently calling half the town. He walks in at nine o'clock and announces we have an appointment in the morning to view another venue.

"That was quick," I respond, in awe of how the woman operates.

"Oh, she's on a mission." He raises his eyebrows as he looks at Carlisle.


Joey and Mary take the girls to school, and we agree to meet at an address in Baveno, two miles north of Stresa. There's no parking here on the main road, not ideal if a hundred and sixty are coming. We leave the van at the town's marina and walk back in single file. I'm trying to be positive, but the cars whizzing past scare me a little. I can't see anything as we approach except a jungle of palms and the agent, waiting with a smile. He speaks to Nonna in Italian as he welcomes us through a door.

The first thing I notice is the large expanse of lawn leading to a classic stone balustrade and breathtaking view of the lake. Isola Pescatori is not far, and a ferry has just left, gliding past as it heads north. The garden is in full bloom with banks of azaleas in pink, orange, and white, and huge trees overhang the area. I can easily imagine an afternoon here, and I start taking photos.

We walk up to the water's edge, and Edward and I look at each other when we see the stone terrace with steps going down to a private beach. I capture it all, including the boathouse and a wall out in the water that creates a small marina. Trying to keep my excitement contained, Edward must know how I'm reacting from the number of clicks of the camera. This could be a great alternative.

The agent takes us around to the front door and into a real foyer with black and white harlequin tiles. Silver and gray striped wallpaper is calming as we go through. The stairs are a wonderful puzzle of brown floor tiles and brass handrails.

A formal sitting room on the left has dark timber ceilings and an oversized fireplace. Its blue wallpaper looks very Italian, with chalices and flowers embossed in white. Mismatched upholstered chairs fit perfectly with the small grand piano standing before a view of Baveno and the mountains behind.

We only poke our heads into the bathroom before the man ushers us into the long living room, dominated by a modern fireplace, a big television, and leather couches. It leads to a dining area and informal space that stretches across the back of the house. Glass doors open onto a patio with the most incredible view.

Emmett and Tanya are already out here, and he's standing behind her, hugging her shoulders. I snap a picture of them and then one of Mary and Siobhan, waving to us from the beach below. Carlisle and Joey are out on the wall in the water.

"What do you reckon a joint like this is worth, Ed?" Emmett asks.

Edward wraps his arms around me and says softly, "I have no idea. Millions."

"You have to do this." Tanya urges. "And I want to pay for it."

"What?" He reacts, incredulous. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm serious. I've made a lot of money off you in the last year. I came to London selling my work for a thousand and now I'm getting five times that much. You've given me a gallery, promotion, and word of mouth. You know that guy who bought the Christmas painting? He's just commissioned me to do a new one."

"I'd have to put up something on the walls, Tanya, so I think you've saved me money."

She rolls her eyes. "Please. You two mean a lot to me, and I have to give you a wedding gift anyway. I want to do this."

Edward looks at the water for a while before he replies. "You can contribute." She squeals and smothers us in one of her wonderful group hugs.

When we hear Nonna talking with the agent, we follow the sound inside because they seem to be arguing.

They're in a large eat-in kitchen, built in a timeless style of granite bench tops, porcelain under sink, and old-fashioned faucets, but there's a modern freestanding oven, dishwasher, and fridge.

"Go upstairs!" she calls out when she notices us peeking in.

"Upstairs?" I question, but Edward shrugs, and we do as she says.

There are four bedrooms up here—two doubles at the front with their own bathrooms and a shared patio. I take a video of the one-eighty degree view from Baveno to Isola Bella. Another two bedrooms and a bathroom are at the back. They are all nicely decorated with peaceful wallpaper and elegant timber furniture. The bathrooms are not new like Joey's, but I certainly can't fault them.

One floor up is a twin bedroom, bathroom, and living area built into the roof space.

"Seen enough?" Edward asks, taking my hand. "Let's go and have another look at that lawn."

Out here, there is plenty of room, but I'm still apprehensive about that dangerous road. "How would we get everyone up here from the church?"

"Well, Joey has drivers, but there are a lot of boats in the family. I'm thinking that's why she chose this."

"Ah," I reply and break into a smile. This villa just became perfect.

"You saw upstairs?" Nonna asks, coming out to join us.

"Yeah, it was great," Edward answers. "Why?"

With a huff, she says, "This is a vacation property, and they only take week-long bookings. The best I can do is get off season price."

"Which is?" Edward asks.

She grimaces and says, "Five thousand euros."

He doesn't seem fazed in the slightest. "I'm saving more than that doing the booze myself, and we have to stay somewhere."

Tanya and I both lose it at the same time. We grab each other and dance around the lawn like children, singing and laughing. When we look back, our men are standing with their arms folded across their chests, trying to look like grown-ups. I take a picture just as Emmett bumps Edward, almost toppling him over. When my husband reaches out for me, I run and jump into his arms to kiss him.

"We'll go halves?" Tanya asks as she cuddles up to Emmett.

"We'll see," Edward answers, a smile on his face.

We meet the photographer and agree that Isola Bella is the logical place for our formal photos. That way, we'll have variety: on the boat from Stresa, at the dramatic Teatro Massimo, the quieter side of the island we both loved, and the trip to Baveno. Neither of us is interested in posing inside the Borromeo palace.

Edward doesn't come to the florist. The tradition these days is for the groom to pay, not to pick the flowers himself. I tell her I've always wanted a highly-scented bouquet, and she goes to work, pulling together a piece of floral art with cream roses and white freesias, the unopened buds giving us the lime color we want. All the blue flowers have purple hues, adding a new color to the mix, so she uses blue-green eucalyptus foliage for that accent. It works well for the boutonnieres too. I can tell Tanya, the perfectionist, is not entirely happy, but I think it looks great, embodying the colors in a way that won't clash with the dresses.

When the florist finds out we're holding the reception at the villa at Baveno, she brings out these sweet little glass vases. We can use them on the tables to hold tea candles as well as posies of flowers. After the wedding, we can give the flowers away or bring them inside to enjoy the fragrance. She'll even refund a deposit on the vases we return.

They don't decorate the pews in the parish church of Santi Ambrogio and Theodolos. She has photos of flowers on stands inside the entry and around the circular stone floor of the altar, saying we're expected to leave three of the biggest arrangements behind. The price she quotes includes dressing the church and the reception, all deliveries and transfers. When she asks if we have any questions, I really can't think of one. Once again, Nonna has led us to someone who fills me with confidence.

Tanya and I take a walk along the water, satisfied we completed everything on our list.

"Have you done anything about the honeymoon yet?" she asks, watching a boat cruise past.

"I have. I've booked a place on an island in Greece, called Donoussa. Rosalie and I were there just after Edward made contact with me again, and I was desperate to see him. Donoussa is the kind of place you should go with someone you love… so taking him back as my husband will be… incredible. I just want us to be on our own for a while, you know? I want to cook and sleep in and swim in the ocean together. The water there is so clear, and the beach is... clothes optional."

She laughs. "Oh, my God. He'll love that."

He will love it. It will feel like coming back to where we started, and I smile as I remember him on the island. "I was going to spend more time on Santorini first, but having a whole week here is better. If Mom and Dad do come… well…" I look at the sky, and tears fill my eyes.

Tanya slides her arm through mine. "Hey. Send them the photos you took today. How can they say no? This is going to be awesome, Bella."

I nod and take a final look at the lake before we go back to leave for the airport. Things have changed in the last twenty-four hours, and they say everything is connected. All I can do is hope change is happening in Seattle, too.


My wedding gift to my husband is a trip to Northern Ireland with tickets to see Van Morrison. It's going to be an intimate evening—dinner and a concert for a maximum of 350 people, held at a resort on the east coast. Edward will die when he finds out.

For his birthday gift, the idea comes to me in the strangest way. I'm in a jeweler's shop in Piccadilly, browsing for inspiration, when I see an antique clock on the wall, and I can't stop staring at the twelve Roman numerals on its face.

They represent a significant period of time—half of Edward's life—twelve years he's lived without celebrating his birthday. Every number on the clock face is a day drained of happiness by a terrible tragedy.

One marks the year he turns thirteen. The one-year anniversary is a day surely overtaken by grief.

Two and three could be spent reflecting. Money is tight, so they're not going to Italy in July.

Four is turning sixteen and might be the birthday they try to celebrate. Alice seems to remember that one, and she would have been old enough then.

Five is the last time he has a birthday before adulthood. College isn't an option for Edward, not if they have to sell the family home. He's going to fix their financial situation.

Six is leaving home before his eighteenth birthday, right after his exams.

Seven to ten—who knows what he does on those days. He's not with his family who are thousands of miles away.

Eleven is twenty-three, and I already know it's a Friday because I looked it up. He's on the island, so it's likely he's working Island Night.

Twelve is last year when he turns twenty-four and lets the birthday pass in silence. It's his sister who tells me I've missed it.

I have to leave the store in tears.

When I come home, I'm still affected, drawing the circle and its twelve numbers in a notebook. Doodling round and round, I see that when Edward turns twenty-five in June. He's already reached the one on the dial again, almost a year into a new phase of his life where he should be able to celebrate his birthday without dishonoring his mother's memory. It just feels like he's done his time.

I look at watches on the internet. Edward has never worn one, never mentioned owning one before, but a watch on his wrist could remind him to think of his mother whenever and however he wants. When it comes time for his birthday, he could celebrate his day without guilt.

How I plan to explain this strange notion is anyone's guess, and I start to wonder if this is about a gift for Edward or about me wanting to fix something I perceive as broken. It's not like I expect him to pour his heart out about those twelve birthdays. I've accepted he doesn't talk about it. He does talk fondly about other things that happened in his life, so I'm not worried about him.

Then I find a watch that's perfect and decide there's no need for me to explain why I bought it. It's a Swiss brand I've never heard of before—Jaeger LeCoultre. The latest model, the "ultra thin" sells for thousands of pounds in the stores, but I get a great deal on last year's model in stainless steel with a black leather band. The white face is fresh, simple and elegant, with the date and the phase of the moon on the bottom.

When I give him the watch, the moon will be a full circle, sitting right in the middle of the dial.


It's a wonderful surprise when Mom's cousin calls to say they'll be coming to the wedding. They're touring Italy until the week prior, and they want the full deal, taking one of the rooms I reserved at the Hotel Astoria in Stresa. Then her brother sends me an email saying he and his wife are joining them. His son and girlfriend are coming too, starting their trip with the wedding, then backpacking over to Paris to pick up a Contiki tour.

I'm honestly astounded there's a family reunion going on in a year when so many are hesitant to travel, but I'll take it. This would be a perfect opportunity for my parents to come over with family, even if they go no further than Italy.

"Should I ask her if one of them can bring my veil?" I ask Nonna.

"Hmm, that would be a direct question." Nonna knows about the veil and has offered to supply one if Mom doesn't come through, but she says she won't have to. "Play to your mother's strengths, Bella. Let her contribute in her own way."

"I don't understand, Nonna. If she thinks she's involved from afar, where's the incentive to come to Italy?"

"Just trust me."

Mom was definitely excited when I sent her the photos of the villa in Baveno, and it's frustrating when it really feels like she is better. Dad still tells me he's working on her and to be patient, but I'm getting to the stage where I'm sick of counting to ten whenever I talk to them.

I need Mom's help at the moment. I want to buy jewelry for my bridesmaids, and she's the expert on the subject. After explaining their dresses in detail, she says she'll get back to me. A few days later, she wants to know what I'm planning to wear as jewelry.

"Because the dress is so intricate, I'm going with pearl earrings and a three rope pearl bracelet. I can get them at a store in Piccadilly, and they're not that expensive."

"Are you worried about cost?"

"No, not really."

"Then why not get something long-lasting?"

"Mom… I wouldn't know what to buy without you." The words are out of my mouth before I realize I've probably said the wrong thing.

After a long and thoughtful hum, she says, "I'll speak to you in a few days."

She leaves me hanging by ending the call. I suspect that hum means she doesn't approve of my choice of jewelry, but she won't say so.

When a whole week goes by, I can't wait any longer. I'm not one of those people who can wing it at the last minute, and we're leaving in three weeks for the wedding. I'm over it, wishing I'd never involved her in this most important thing.

It's not fair when I've obediently followed all the advice from my father and from people who don't even know my mother. It hasn't worked. I've been kidding myself, clinging to the hope she's coming. I pick up my phone, knowing that pussy-footing around her is not going to make a scrap of difference. She has to address whatever problems she has. I just wish she'd done it months ago.

"Mom, you haven't called me back. I need to know what's happening with the jewelry."

"Oh, heavens, I'm so sorry. I'll send you a photo now." I just sigh at the way she dismisses me when I know she can't be that busy.

The image she sends is labelled "Crystal Sahara," and I'm ready to take back every ungrateful thought I've had. She has found the most perfect combination in a jewel. The crystals encompass the colors of the two dresses: different blues, yellows, and greens. Two sets of drop earrings and two bracelets are… Jesus… sitting on the counter in the kitchen at home! Why has she purchased them over there! Aaaaargh!

Frantically, I call her, "Mom, you need to send them so they make it in time!"

"Calm down."

"Mom!"

"I'm delivering them myself, along with your veil."

"Mom?" For a second, my voice is swallowed by shock and emotion. "...you're coming?"

"It's a long story, Bella, and one too long for this phone conversation. We're leaving for New York tomorrow and meeting my cousins in Rome. Our tour finishes on June 10th, so we'll have plenty of time to reach Stresa before you arrive. I'll have the veil with me and all the jewelry."

"Mom, you're really coming!"

"It's my daughter's wedding." She's starting to cry. I can hear it in her voice.

"I love you, Mom."

"And I love you. I can't wait to see you."

"Oh, Mom." Now I'm bawling. Tears are streaming down my cheeks, but they're tears I welcome. "You said all the jewelry. Does that mean you bought something for me, too?"

"You're wearing the diamonds you wore when you were married in Seattle. They are my personal wedding gifts to you."

"Mom… I..."

"Bella... it will give your father something to buy me next birthday."

We both break into teary laughter. "Okay," I concede. "Will you please do my hair and makeup on the day?"

"Of course I will. Now I'm very sorry, but I still have a stack of ironing to finish before your father gets home."

"Hang on. Did you look at those accommodations I sent you? I'm not sure I can get a room at the Astoria at this late stage… but I still have others."

"We're fine. We have somewhere to stay. Don't worry about us."

"Oh… well… you drink plenty of water on the flight, and get up as often as you can to walk around."

"We're flying business class this time." I hear a long exhale like she's not looking forward to it.

"I've never flown business. At least you'll be able to sleep."

"I hope so," she responds.

"You call me as soon you arrive in Rome, okay?"

"Yes, yes, okay, but now I really have to go."

Bolting down the stairs, I'm calling out Edward's name without even registering we're in a place of business. As I bounce on my feet at the end of the bar, he smiles at me as he fills a glass with beer. After some chitchat and a laugh at the end, the customers leave the bar, and he turns to me.

"What is it?"

"They're coming!"

"Who is coming where?"

"Mom and Dad! They're going to New York tomorrow and then Rome, joining a tour, and they're coming to the wedding!" I feel like I'm jumping out of my skin.

He smiles and pulls me to his chest. "Are you really so surprised?"

"I don't know," I answer, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt.

"I knew it. You knew it. Everyone knew they wouldn't be able to stay away, baby." He amazes me. He really was still full of confidence, while I had honestly given up on Mom.


It's raining in London the day we leave for the wedding, and the weather is supposed to be the same in Stresa. The forecast is for storms on Sunday afternoon, so I'm glad we took the caterer's advice and hired a wedding tent. My ever-positive husband assures me there's no way the weather is going to ruin our day.

As we wait for our flight, the televisions are full of the referendum happening in exactly one week. "Brexit" has dominated the media lately, and I've found the whole thing fascinating. Last week, we watched the two men leading the respective campaigns answer questions from the public. I thought Nigel Farage, lobbying to leave the EU, was more authentic and confident. There was something about Prime Minister David Cameron's eye movements that made me distrust him. Both of them took a battering from the audience.

Ever since then, I've been researching how Britain came to join the EU countries. As well as the mass of information I found on the internet, I drew on the modern history I'd studied in college and what we learned on our bus tour of central Europe, which focused on the Second World War and its aftermath.

Everyone who's come into the pub lately has an opinion. Some say the EU is ready to crumble, that the referendum is a costly and worthless exercise. Others are fearful of the recession that's coming if we choose to leave. It sounds like the vote could go either way.

The response to the questions I post on the blog is minimal and disappointing. Either the type of travelers who contribute are out of touch with British news, or they simply don't care. It has become such an absorbing subject that I'm surprised by the apathy. I'd give anything to be reporting on Brexit and have all the facts at my disposal. Getting a job one day as a political journalist would be incredible.

For now, this current contract is perfect for Edward and me, but it isn't what I set out to do when I left Seattle. A column based on a travel blog was not one of my aspirations. I'm not denigrating it, but it already feels like a stepping stone to somewhere else when the money they pay does not cover the hours I put into it.

"Babe? Are you worried about the weather?" Edward asks, crouching down in front of me. I've been staring at the sky with my mind a million miles away. "We're boarding."

"No. Sorry. I'm just… Let's go." He pulls me up and wraps my arms around his neck. "I'm going to see my parents today. I'm getting my dress, and we're moving into the villa."

He kisses me rather passionately then smiles. "Party time, gorgeous. Two and a half weeks to look forward to."

As we join the line, we link hands. It really is an amazing feeling.


When I see Mom and Dad waiting at the airport, adrenaline kicks in, and I push past several people to get to them. Mom's arms surround me, squeezing me tight, and Dad shakes Edward's hand, leaning forward to say something in his ear. Mom hugs Edward warmly, and he thanks her for coming. Then my father takes my hands, holding my arms out so he can look me over, then he pulls me into an embrace. They both look refreshed and tanned, smiling as they meet Tanya, Emmett, Liam, and Jasper.

I still haven't heard Mom's "long story" of what happened to bring her to the wedding. We've only had a few brief calls from them in the past few weeks, full of the delights of discovering Italy.

Looking at Nonna, she winks at me and nods. When I challenge her with an eyebrow, her smirk becomes the most triumphant grin, and I know she's one of them—one of the people who've played a part in getting my mother here.

Since the day I found out my parents were staying at Joey's hotel, I've been suspicious of why Mom didn't tell me.

"I didn't know you had Carlisle's new number," I said to Mom when they called from the Cinque Terre, gloating over the view in front of them.

"Yes, we've spoken to Carlisle and Siobhan several times," she replied, as if I should have expected they'd be talking to my father-in-law, but the secrecy implied there was more than just a hotel reservation going on. "Edward gave us his number." So Edward had been talking to them too, and he never mentioned it to me.

This story is going to be fascinating.

We have a twelve-seater minivan today. We're going directly to the fashion house, and we're not leaving until we can take our dresses and suits with us. Joey and Mary's wedding gift is providing drivers whenever and wherever we need them, but we're trying to minimize the trips to Milan. They picked up my family two days ago, and Joey is sending someone to the 10:30 flight tomorrow night to collect Angela, Ben, Charlotte and her fiancé, Peter, and a single Maggie.

While Maggie is not what I'd call a guarded person, she is my boss, so I've never asked about her personal life, assuming she was married. Charlotte was the one who told me not to expect a plus one from Maggie. She said Maggie had always been single, saying no man could tolerate the hours she worked. I find it sad because I really like her. She's been very supportive of me, and while I know she cannot increase my salary, she's found ways for me to claim some of Edward's expenses when I'm working in Europe. She's even sending me to Belfast when we go to see Van Morrison.

"I'll load the bags, boss. You just get in." Jasper has always been in awe of Edward. Ever since Edward asked him to partner Alice at the wedding, Jasper has been a model employee, and Liam couldn't be happier.

"Oh, thanks. Good man." Edward pats Jasper on the back, and I have to smile at the two of them. Edward doesn't take advantage of his apprentice, but he has this way of keeping him at arm's length, like he's teaching him to know his place. He told me he recognizes his teenage self in Jasper, and he'll take a mile if you give him an inch.

The chatter is loud and enthusiastic as our group enters the fashion house. Liam is buying a suit today, and Mom is looking for something as well. She has already bought a couple of dresses in Italy, but she's still on the lookout for the perfect outfit, and Nonna has assured her she will find it here.

I'm up first because my alterations may take the longest, and having Mom here for my fitting is very emotional. In tears as they make the final adjustments, she produces the veil, apologizing for nearly letting me down. All I can say is I love her, and I'm glad she's here now.

The jewelry Mom bought looks fantastic with Tanya's dress, which is already finished after only needing the hem taken up. Tanya is happy, and I think she looks gorgeous. Nonna already has Alice's dress at her place in Stresa.

Mom leaves with Nonna, and when they return, Mom heads straight for the changing room. She comes out in a knee-length lace sheath dress, with a short, three-quarter sleeve jacket in matching colored silk. It's almost impossible to choose between the silver-gray version and the navy.

"You've still got it, Mom," I say as she makes her decision on the navy. She looks effortlessly elegant, as usual.

Edward is already paying the bill when I sneak away to do it myself. We laugh, finding we both had the idea of stopping Nonna from getting in first. Even so, I'm sure they're only charging us cost because it's nowhere near what I was expecting. My dress is just over 500 euros, a fraction of the 3,000 pounds they quoted me in London.

When we walk outside, the men all have shit-eating grins on their faces, and Emmett nudges Jasper, telling him not to say a word. It's a tight squeeze with eight garment bags in the van. Mine, by far the biggest, is on on top of all the others. We drop Nonna off, and she takes Tanya's dress and mine with her. We're going along with her suggestion that we get ready there since it's so close to the church. It also means there'll be no temptation to peek if we keep our dresses at the villa. Even though we've been married for almost a year, some traditions should stand.

The reunion between Liam and Siobhan almost brings tears to my eyes. I forgot how long it's been since he saw his mother. They're both giving us their skills and time on Saturday night, cooking for the rehearsal dinner, and Carlisle is paying. I'm so appreciative of their wonderful generosity.

Carlisle shows us the courtyard first, with its stone retaining walls finished, and I'm grateful we're having the smaller rehearsal dinner here. At least I get to experience what it would have been like.

As we enter the hotel, there's a lovely subtle smell.

"What is that fragrance? Is it pine?" I ask, taking it into my lungs.

"Juniper," Siobhan replies, nodding toward a basket of cuttings. "It keeps the place smelling fresh."

Mary hands me a business card, showing a drawing of a sprig with berries and the address of the hotel. It finally has a name, "Albergo Ginepro." In small print underneath, it reads, "Padroni di Casa - Giuseppe e Mary Coleno." That surname is familiar, like I may have written it on an invitation or two.

"Ginepro is Italian for juniper, and the stuff grows up here like a weed. We cleared it out in autumn, but it's all back again, so cutting some every day and bringing it inside serves a dual purpose."

Edward places his arm around his father. "You can tell me, Dad. You two are making gin up here, aren't you?" Carlisle shakes his head as he laughs.

"This is amazing." Tanya studies a piece from the basket. "The berries are all different colors."

Mary answers. "They take a while to mature, and they don't all change color at the same time, so some are green, and some are blue."

"You have lots of this?" Tanya asks.

"Stacks. Do you want some? Take as much as you like."

"I'll be back." She leaves with a bundle of juniper, and Edward frowns at me. I walk out to the deck and see her disappearing down the steps. Jasper joins me, taking in the view, followed by Siobhan and Liam.

"Is Alice at school?" Jasper asks.

Siobhan replies with a knowing smile. "She'll be back here about four."

Jasper sighs and turns back to the lake. He won't show it to Siobhan, but I can tell he's eager to see his friend.

When Tanya returns, half an hour later, she lets out a big breath. "That's better. I'm happy now."

"Where did you go?" I ask.

"The florist. I made a slight change that you are going to love."

"Okay," I respond. With anything artistic, I trust this girl implicitly.

"So what are we doing?" Edward asks. "Can we check into the villa yet?"

Carlisle looks at his watch and throws him a set of keys. "You can take the small mini-van."

"Do you have guests tonight?" Edward asks.

"Just Renee and Charlie. We're full tomorrow night."

"Why don't you come down to us for dinner? Pizza?"

They look at each other and nod. "We'll come by boat," Joey announces.

Liam says, "I'll stay here with Mom."

"I'll stay too," Jasper follows.

"Authentic Italian pizza." Emmett smiles and rubs his hands together.

I look at my parents. "Mom, Dad, come and see our villa."

"We'd love to," they answer in unison.

It's a bit tricky bringing the van into the driveway of the house. Even with a remote control to open the gate, someone still toots their horn when we turn in.

Edward and Emmett take their garment bags and our suitcases upstairs while I show my parents around. Now it's ours for a week, and it looks even better than I remember. Having the lake so close is incredible.

Tanya comes out and breathes in the fresh smell of the water. "Emmett and I are going to the store for supplies."

"I'll go with you," Edward adds. "We'll give you some time to catch up."

He kisses my cheek, and I thank him for his thoughtfulness.

We walk out to the lawn, and I mention the weather forecast for Sunday afternoon.

"I wouldn't worry about the weather too much," Dad says. "We've seen rain and lightning in the last two days, but the mountains apparently catch it, like they do with the snow. It hasn't rained down on the lake at all."

"It's so pretty here. I'm glad we made it." Mom seems a little emotional as she stares at the water, and I think it's time I got some answers.

"So Mom, when did you start talking to Carlisle and Siobhan?"

"Ah, would you like me to start from the beginning?"

"Yes, I would. I want to hear it all."

She motions for us to sit down at a small table and chairs on the terrace. Dad leans on the balustrade as if he's ready to oversee the conversation.

"When all those people were killed in Paris, I wanted you home because I thought London was next."

"We were worried for a while too, Mom, but life goes on."

"I was terrified to come to Europe, obviously, and your father was very understanding. Then I had a panic attack getting on the flight to Phoenix and we had to abandon our trip for the holidays." She looks up at Dad as if she's still embarrassed. "I knew I was being snappy and argumentative for no reason, and when you told me you were going to Venice, all I saw was the magazine putting you in danger. I started waking up in a lather of sweat without recalling even a nightmare to explain it.

"Your father convinced me to go to my doctor, and her diagnosis was menopause. Without really listening to me, she wrote me a script for an antidepressant to help with the night sweats and irritability and asked me to come back in a month. She lost my respect that day, and I haven't been back.

"Thinking I could get through it without medication, I tried to stay in touch with you as much as possible. Gradually I could see us coming to the wedding, but when those… people... bombed Brussels airport… it destroyed every bit of confidence I had gained back. I retreated into myself for a while, and it took a good husband to pull me out of it," she says, smiling at Dad.

"I'm very grateful you continued to involve me in the wedding, but I still felt isolated, so we got Carlisle's number from Edward and called to see how the renovations were going. He's such a nice man, isn't he? He said we must stay with them when we came to Stresa, and I had to tell him I wasn't actually sure we'd be there. Your father stormed off and left me to end the call embarrassed and demoralized. That night we had the biggest argument of our married life, and he told me he'd be going without me if I didn't seek help."

"I was always coming, either way, Bells," Dad adds.

"Anyway, a couple of days later, Siobhan called just to talk, and we found we had things in common. She had gone through something similar, reaching menopause around the time her husband died. As she described the feelings of losing confidence in herself, it was like I was talking to a kindred spirit.

"She asked if I'd ever considered traditional Chinese medicine, saying it changed her life, and initially, I went out of curiosity. The doctor was very thorough, writing down all the details of my history and recent health. After he had a good look at my tongue and felt my pulse at different points on my wrist, I left with a bag of strange things to make tea and two appointments for acupuncture and massage. After three sessions, I saw improvement."

"So did I," Dad says, smirking at her.

"Of course, no one in the family ever asked if we were going to the wedding, so my cousins accepting your invitation really put the pressure on me to make a decision. I called Siobhan, admitting I may have to send your father without me. She asked me to imagine that outcome carefully—what it would feel like at the time and to consider its long-lasting ramifications.

"Then Goia called about the veil, saying how wonderful it was that I'd kept it for my daughter and what great luck it was for a bride to wear her mother's precious keepsake. If I sent it to you, someone else was going to pin it in place and help you get ready for your wedding." Mom shakes away that thought, and I touch her hand. Then she smiles and goes on. "We had a few calls with Edward around that time too."

"About what?" I ask, ready for another piece of the puzzle.

"This and that." Dad responds, and I narrow my eyes at him.

"Edward sent me a link to a video, showing Delta's business class, with details of their direct flights from New York to Milan. He said they were getting great reviews for their new flat bed seats, saying we should seriously consider it if we didn't already have our flights booked. I watched that video with my heart pounding, hyperventilating. Five or six hours into New York and another eight to Milan seemed like my worst nightmare, but I couldn't say no to him, so I just sent back a thank you and said it was a very long flight.

"Twenty-four hours later, he sent a text, asking if I'd ever tried hypnosis. He'd seen it work for a couple of divers who had claustrophobia during his training course. It taught them to use their breathing to calm themselves down. Then he added this little sentence at the end, 'Please try it, Renee, because the wedding won't be the same with both mothers missing.'"

I suck in a breath, not knowing what she's going to say next. When I nervously glance at Dad, he's playing with his moustache. Shit.

"It was a low blow, wasn't it?" she asks casually, and I nod, just once. "And exactly what I needed."

"Mom?" I hold my hand out to her, but she waves it away.

"I had a choice... and Edward's mother… didn't." She pauses to wipe a tear from her cheek and looks at the water.

"Did you try hypnosis?"

"Yes, I went four times and had to do self-hypnosis sessions every night. Somehow I fit it in while having acupuncture and finding the jewelry for your bridesmaids."

"This was only five weeks ago?"

"I'm sorry. I should have told you then, but there were so many decisions to make, and I was running out of time. My cousins were asking why we couldn't join their tour, but they were going around the entire country, spending a single night in each city. I didn't want to come to your wedding exhausted. Do you have any idea how many English-speaking tours there are in Italy?"

We both laugh because I've seen the endless list of them.

"I chose two tours that crossed over in Rome—one up to Tuscany and the other to Pompei and the Amalfi coast, mainly because of your wonderful descriptions I read when you were there. It was a lot of juggling to work out the dates, but I'm glad we did it that way. We had two nights in places like the Isle of Capri while they had two hours." She looks at Dad, and he smiles fondly.

"How was the flight?" I ask, glancing between them.

"The deep breathing helped, but it's no cure. I have claustrophobia, Bella. Turbulence doesn't worry me in the slightest. It's knowing I can't get out once they close the doors that makes me panic. It's the same in elevators now, too, but I'll keep working on it. The doctor says I can manage it."

"When Edward talks about saturation diving, I can't get my breath. It's pretty overwhelming."

"God, I hope it's not hereditary," Mom says, her hand on her chest.

"I fly a lot, so I don't think so." I need to steer her away from this topic. "So, Dad, were you in cahoots with Edward? What was the 'this and that' you mentioned before?"

He scratches his moustache and then answers, "I might have said she was ready for a nudge."

"Charles Swan!" Mom stands to threaten him. He backs away and then runs when she chases him. I watch him dodge and weave as they both start to laugh, then he grabs her for a kiss. I'm grinning, gazing at them showing their love, when I hear the van pull in the driveway.

Emmett's already on his way into the house with a box of booze and several plastic bags. Tanya chuckles as she loads herself up with supplies when my husband plants a big noisy kiss on my cheek. "I missed you, gorgeous."

"My mother's just been telling me all about you."

His teeth graze his bottom lip. "Well..." He shrugs, looking uncomfortable.

"What made you guess she had a phobia?"

"Your father said she was avoiding booking the flights. He'd already told me what happened when she couldn't get on the plane to Phoenix, so her answer about the length of the flight made me think it could be an actual fear of flying."

"You went for the jugular, Edward."

"Charlie said it was time to shock her into action. I did it for you, babe."

I shake my head. "Dad doesn't realize that's like waving a red flag to a bull."

"Do you hate me?"

"No, I don't hate you. She's here, and that's what matters."

When I fold my arms around his neck and smile, he responds with a sigh of relief and a kiss.

"Jesus, you two." We stop kissing to find Emmett waiting for us. "Can I get past?"

We laugh and break apart enough for Emmett to reach in and pick up another box. I grab the rest of the bags, and Edward takes the last box himself, sliding the door of the van closed.


Edward and Emmett are all over Joey's boat when they pull in, and Joey takes them for a spin around Isola Pescatori. Edward is driving when they return, and Emmett calls out they'll be back with the pizzas. Carlisle explains that Edward was once the apprentice on Joey's last boat. It makes me smile to imagine him as a boy behind the wheel.

The evening is relaxed without music playing for a change. Once we've eaten, the men open up the boathouse then kick a soccer ball around on the lawn. I speak to Siobhan privately and thank her for her help with Mom. She says we each have our time when we're not firing on all cylinders.

The women and Liam settle in the living room, drinking wine, and talking about the hotel opening and the rehearsal dinner. Alice and Jasper spend the evening outside, going through photos on their phones. They've taken to each other as if they were never apart while Valentina now occupies her mother's lap.

"Well, that did not disappoint," Emmett announces with a belch. He's still eating cold pizza as we say goodbye to our guests departing on the boat. Liam is going back to stay at the hotel tonight. Alice's face is forlorn, and her hand is raised, just like Jasper's, as he stands next to us. There's something about their connection, like he brings out emotion she doesn't show readily. He's never seen her as different either because she isn't different when he's around. I hope the family can encourage the friendship rather than try to keep them apart because they're so young.

Edward wraps his arms around me. "You happy, baby?"

"Yes, I'm very content." I lean back against his chest and sigh. Carlisle unties the rope, and they all call out and wave. Edward hugs me as we watch the wake of the boat spread out. At this time of the day, the lake is a golden color. "It's so beautiful."

"It is with you here, Ees-a-bella." I turn in his arms to find his eyes, more stunning than ever, full of emotion and tiny flecks of gold only visible in an Italian sunset. He runs his thumb over my cheekbone and asks, "What do you say we start our honeymoon early? We have a big bed to check out."

I nod, and we walk back to the house hand in hand. Emmett and Tanya are getting comfortable on a couch, scrolling through movies, while Jasper is on his phone.

"Do you want to…?" Emmett starts to ask.

"Probably not." Edward cuts him off as we head for the stairs.

He's kissing me so passionately as he kicks our bedroom door shut, I melt into his warm chest and moan from the combination of his soft lips and tongue. Then he wraps me in a tight embrace as if I'm precious. When he loosens his arms, his eyes are smoldering but full of apology, and I have no idea why. He tilts my head up, kissing me sweetly. "There's no rush, is there?"

"No, we're on vacation."

He tries to smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. I close the curtains and wonder what's wrong with him all of a sudden. He takes my hand and sits on the bed, guiding me to stand between his legs. Then he strips me slowly, his eyes worshiping me as he takes each layer off. When he lays me down, I watch him remove his clothes and tingle with anticipation for the feel of his skin.

Then he joins me and studies his hand as it tenderly follows the contours of my body. When he's gentle like this, I find him wildly sexy. He kisses like it's the first time he ever let go, and my stomach flip-flops when he moans. I'm panting by the time he moves to my neck. "Oh, God, you are the most erotic kisser there ever was."

"When I'm consumed with lust for you, it's tied up in a powerful love. This is more than just sex, Bella." He continues as his teeth graze my ear. "I want you even more than I did a year ago—your smile, your touch, your body—all the time. Tell me. Do I ask too much of you? Do I want too much sex?"

"No." I can barely answer above a whisper. "I want this just as much as you do."

After a long drawn out exhale, he growls softly, palming my breast, watching his fingers splay out and squeezing my nipple gently between them. With my hands in his hair, I bring his mouth back to mine and lose myself in the exquisite sensations, heightened by the words that just poured out of him. I'm feeling a familiar ache inside, but this is so good, I selfishly enjoy it.

He slides his hand slowly over my tummy, and my head sinks deep into the pillow when his fingers enter me then circle my clit. I moan, lifting a leg over his hip. The offer is too much for him. He pushes inside and attacks my nipple with his tongue.

As my heart thunders away in my chest, there is nothing but Edward controlling every part of me. When he looks up, I see animal in his eyes, and he opens his mouth wide to bite the flesh of my breast. I watch his teeth drag across my skin as the bite narrows, and he takes my nipple into his mouth. He sucks just hard enough to hurt, and I come undone, fighting not to cry out. Soon he's struggling himself. I know how much he loves me coming while he's inside, and it often sets off his own release, but he tries to fight the inevitable by slowing down. When he finally stills, his arms crush me, and he buries his face in my hair as he rides out the waves of his orgasm.

As we come down together, I hold him and say, "I could never get enough of that. I love you, and I'm madly in love with you."

"Sometimes I can't believe this is real, and you still love me."

I pull his face up to look at me. "Next week, when we're alone, I'll prove you're my everything." The overpowering hug shows me I've said what he needed to hear. I'm not sure if it's because of the wedding, but I think my man might be having an emotional or confidence crisis.

Hopefully, before we come back to London, I can get him to open up a little more. We've become so close, but I want him to know it's not weak to lean on me.

Thanks for reading xo