Since Sarah is hopeless and hasn't got round to writing the wedding (no, I'm kidding, I love her really) I decided I'd have to do it myself. I keep deciding to end Bleeding Love and then continuing it for a few more chapters; I'm sort of fond of writing it despite it being repetitive and out of character and the like. So anyway, this may or may not be the final chapter. Another massive thank you to everyone who has supported me in writing this story! x

Chapter Thirty Seven | Bleeding Love

Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light ~ Dumbledore (or J. , I suppose, who will always be an inspiration)

"Oh shit, Nicki, I'm so nervous," Tom whispered down the phone.

He could hear raised, slightly-drunken voices echoing through into the bathroom from the main body of the pub. He sat hunched up on the toilet seat with the phone clutched to his ear, feeling a deep-seated queasiness that wasn't entirely associated with how much alcohol his friends had forced down his throat. Compared to the rest of them, he was sober.

"There's no need to be."

Her voice was a little more sing-song than usual, but she didn't sound out of her mind. He was glad of that; he didn't want to be marrying an alcoholic. Although he would have married Nicki if she was addicted to drink, drugs, gambling and sex with other men in posh hotel rooms.

Tom was sure it was supposed to be the woman who was more nervous the night before the wedding. He'd always been nervous about it, about all of the things that could go wrong, and yet Nicki hadn't seem apprehensive at all. She'd revelled in choosing her wedding dress (she'd refused to show him it, though) and her flowers and all of the snacks they were going to have afterwards. Smoked salmon on sticks; very classy.

"Best day of our lives, Tom. We can't waste it because we're a bit scared."

"You're not scared at all, are you? You're in your element."

"I'm–" she stopped. The sound went suddenly muffled, like she'd clasped a hand over the phone. "Yeah, I'll be out in a minute." Long pause. "Of course I'm not talking to him."

"Liar," Tom muttered.

"Lorraine will skin me alive if she finds out; she's very traditional about these things."

"Have you got all that sorted out? You know that rhyme everyone does for weddings, about the borrowed stuff or whatever?"

"Good to know you've done your research," she said dryly, "Yes, I've got it sorted. New thing is the shoes, borrowed thing is a necklace from Audrey, blue thing is the clip in my hair."

"You're going to look beautiful."

"Charmer. I was about to say the old thing is you, but I take it back."

They both laughed. Tom could hear the edge to her soft chuckle, and it relieved him to know that she wasn't entirely confident about tomorrow. Still, they'd have each other.

"Look, I'd really better go. Christine has got us all doing a quiz to keep her occupied so that she doesn't drink. Apparently it's the celebrity round, and Lorraine needs my input because she can't tell the difference between Ant and Dec. What planet has she been on?"

"Venus. Or is it Mars?" He wished he wasn't apart from her tonight. "I love you."

"I love you too. Try to get some sleep."

"Will do, Miss."

"Love you," she said again.

He sat with the phone against his ear for another few seconds after she'd hung up, and then he went to the sink to splash his face with cold water. He looked at himself in the mirror and saw what Josh had been talking about when he said his dad looked 'better' nowadays; there were less wrinkles on his forehead, less puffiness in his skin. It had been a long time since he'd been this happy. It was funny how these things came to you when you were no longer searching for them.

He went back into the bar, and was confronted with Grantly pulling down his pants in order to prove to Chalky that his buttocks were indeed nicer than Michael's. He could only hope that he was sufficiently drunk to remember none of this by morning.

XxXxX

Tom forced himself not to turn around when he heard everyone stand up. Michael was giving her away, which was kind of suitable, given that he'd turned her life around by offering her the job. If she hadn't joined Waterloo Road– well, Tom tried not to dwell on what could have happened. He was deliriously happy that Nicki had realised she didn't need to end her life.

She reached his side, and he turned to face her. She threw back the veil, and she was beautiful. Her hair was wavy and held up from her face with the blue clip she'd promised him, her dress long and white and yet not ridiculously flowery like women sometimes chose, just simple, and with a bow around her waist that accentuated her figure more than he'd imagined possible.

The vows were a blur; he was focusing on remaining upright. He could feel the collective gaze of the congregation on him, silently urging him on. Given the part that the children had played in their relationship, it had only seemed fair that they let them attend the wedding; he could see Scout and Rhiannon out of the corner of his eye, and of course Josh and Finn in the front row, wearing matching tartan bow ties and grinning proudly.

Finally they got to the kiss, and he just leant in and kissed her. Nothing bad happened, nobody bursting in through the front door to demand the wedding was stopped, nobody fainting in the pews. It was perfect, more heavenly than the night of the proposal. The congregation made 'aw' and 'ooh' noises as Tom pulled her closer and kissed her again.

"I love you," he whispered, when they finally pulled apart.

"Can we just stay like this forever?"

"No. They're all hungry for the salmon thingies."

Nicki's laughter tickled his ear. "Bugger the salmon things."

Tom took Nicki's arm and led her down the aisle, his nerves gone now, and when they reached the door they stepped out into the sunlight and Tom felt the confetti on his cheeks and knew that this would be a moment imprinted on his mind forever.

XxXxX

Alright, I might just be tempted to write a wedding reception chapter at some point, I suppose.