Chapter Info

Title: And to Hold

Number: 4/?

Warnings: None

Author's Note: I'm so sorry for the wait on this, guys! I do have a (relatively) good excuse... I've been so close for so long to finishing Second Chance at Forever, and I finally did! Chapter thirty-six was finished and so now all I have to do is edit the crap out of the last couple chapters, but that can wait because now I can finally get back to writing this little beauty! I'm very excited for this one to get moving more; I've missed Annabelle and Carlisle! Thank you so much for your patience, and I hope y'all have stuck with me! Thanks so much for reading! I would love to hear your reviews, thoughts, comments, and questions about this story!

Goldielover: Her parents, well more specifically her father, are very stubborn so I don't see them being around anytime soon. :( But I do plan to bring them back eventually! For some reason I've taken a liking to Henry, so I don't want to give up on him quite yet. As for Garrett, it might come up sometime in the future, but I don't plan on staying around this time in history for too much longer. Thanks so much for reading and commenting!

Dreamer4life16: I'm so glad you like it! I'm excited to get to the books, too, but I really wanted to start them from the beginning and show you everything rather than it be just exposition in later chapters or flashbacks. Esme won't be in this one unfortunately, not that I don't love her, but I think it'll be too much to try and stick her in here. :( But thank you so much for reading and commenting!

-Rural New York, Six Months Later, May 1775-
-Annabelle-

The day finally arrived, and Annabelle didn't ever remembering being as nervous as she was right then. Not that she was having second thoughts, of course. She knew from the moment she met him that they would have eternity and none of that would change no matter what they did or who came along. In the six months since Annabelle had been away from her parents, it had been scary and terrifying and confusing, and oh so wonderful. Carlisle was patient and loving, so careful with her, and yet had shown her so much passion that she was absolutely full of it, so consumed by it that she felt it every waking moment, felt it every single time she breathed, every single time that she looked into those beautiful topaz eyes. And today was the day she would take one step further into forever with him: she was going to become Mrs. Annabelle Cullen.

When he had asked her, she cried for hours all the while kissing him everywhere she could reach. And yet there was an ache that wouldn't quite go away, because she knew there would be two very important people missing from that day. Carlisle didn't get the chance to ask her father for her hand, and he wouldn't be walking her down the aisle. Her mother wouldn't be there to help her into her dress, pin up her hair, or arrange her bouquet. When she was growing up, all of that was very important to her, and she always pictured her most perfect wedding with a loving fiance and a huge feast with the whole village and her parents smiling at her happily from the front row.

The feast wouldn't be happening, but she knew none of that really mattered. And while she still wished her parents were there, she knew that she had the most loving and amazing fiance to ever exist and she couldn't really ask for more than him. She was blessed with him, gifted with an eternity of happiness and love, and who was she to look a gifted horse in the mouth? He was everything to her. Everything. And as much as she gave up, it was worth it all to have forever with the man of her dreams, the love of her life.

"Are you almost ready, Miss Steele?"

The voice of the pastor's wife caused her to startle out of her thoughts and spin around on her spot in front of the mirror. She held a hand to her fluttering heart as she faced Mrs. Wesley, smiling at the older woman kindly. Since Annabelle had no one—she and Carlisle had both told the couple they were orphans—Mrs. Wesley had taken it upon herself to fill in for her mother. She had helped Annabelle into her skirts and tighten up the bodice. The dress itself was all white, the skirts large and poofy around her legs. It V-ed slightly at her chest, and the sleeves were long and flared out at her elbow. Her hair was pulled back into a simple bun with some pretty purple flowers on the right side, tucked behind her ear and clipped in. She had a small bouquet of white and pink flowers, and when Mrs. Wesley wasn't looking, she hid her silver dagger in her thigh sheath just like always. She felt naked without it, and felt safer with it, even though she knew Carlisle could protect her better than any dagger could.

"Yes, Mrs. Wesley," she said kindly as she finished straightening out the wispy strands of hair around her face and grabbed for her bouquet that sat in a vase off to the side. "Are Carlisle and Pastor Wesley ready as well?"

The woman nodded. "Fredrick will be walking you down the aisle. Carlisle is already there with the pastor and I shall be playing the piano." Fredrick was their nineteen-year-old son that offered to help in whatever way he could, so she agreed with Mrs. Wesley to allow him to walk with her. She would miss her father, but she supposed walking with Fredrick would be better than walking alone.

"Thank you so much for everything you have done," Annabelle said, reaching out to gently hug the woman. "Carlisle and I very much appreciate all of your wonderful hospitality."

"The pleasure is mine, dear. You two are alone and I would simply loathe myself if I did not help you out. This day should be with family, and it hurts me that you both have none."

Annabelle gave her a sad smile. "I as well," she whispered, tears shimmering in her gaze.

"No tears," the woman insisted, waving a hand in front of Annabelle's face and then her own, laughing softly. "Now, let us go and get you two kids married, shall we?"

Annabelle grinned and nodded eagerly, her heart somersaulting around in her chest before jumping up into her throat. This is it, she thought excitedly. I am about to become Mrs. Cullen! It was the best sounding thing in the world, Annabelle Cullen. It was who she was meant to be, Carlisle's mate and wife. Wife! I shall be Carlisle's wife and he shall be my husband and we will be happy together for all of eternity. It wasn't for the first time in the past six months that she was happy that eternity was possible for them. One lifetime together didn't seem like enough. She could've been cursed with loneliness or a cruel man, but she had this kind and compassionate person that would give every part of his venom and body and soul to keep her safe and happy. She couldn't ask for more.

Fredrick met them right outside the room they were using to change and Annabelle's hand shook as he tucked it into his elbow. "Do not be nervous, ma'am," he murmured to her and she softly smiled at him as Mrs. Wesley quickly scurried around them to bustle in and take her place at the piano. The music began immediately and Annabelle's breath got caught in her throat as the church workers at the doors nodded to Fredrick who waved a quick hand and they parted to allow them into the chapel. It was on the small side, only seating roughly thirty to forty parishioners at the most, but that's exactly what the couple wanted. Well, not that there was anybody else there, since they didn't have or need anyone else. They wanted something small and quiet so Carlisle had drove their carriage up through the Colonies—obviously careful to avoid active war zones—and found the first small church that caught their eye. Saint Mary's Parish was lovely and so Annabelle begged him to stop there, which he whole-heartedly agreed to.

At the front stood Pastor Wesley, a man knocking on fifty. He and Mrs. Wesley had seven kids together between the ages of thirty-one and Fredrick coming in last at nineteen. Truthfully, Annabelle wanted children when she was younger, but now that she had Carlisle, it was the furthest thing from her mind as she knew vampires couldn't have children. Plus, she couldn't imagine having seven of them. All she needed was Carlisle.

And there he is, she thought dreamily as finally her cerulean gaze settled on the blond man just to the right of the pastor. It seemed that he was mesmerized by something, something so utterly breathtaking as he let his guard drop and was still as a statue, chest not moving in breath, staring down the aisle at them. And for the life of her she couldn't figure out what it was he was staring at so intently and almost looked behind her, but realized just a moment later that his eyes weren't looking just at her and Fredrick, they were looking just at her. Topaz gaze wide with wonder and adoration, and almost incredulousness that made Annabelle's body flush, her cheeks tinging red enough that it made a smile curve at the corner of his lips. It was truly a beautiful sight and Annabelle nearly floated down the rest of the aisle to her soon-to-be husband.

Fredrick quickly put her hand in Carlisle's, who eagerly took it and pulled her close to his body, though not inappropriately so. Still, it felt like it was too far away from him as she was so eager to be close to him, eager to finally be Mrs. Annabelle Cullen and be able to be with him in all of the ways she wanted. She was ready for that, ready to give herself to him in the ways a wife should, and ready to take what he had to offer. She wanted a life with him, and what a life it would be. The two of them in forever, how could she really ask for more?

"Dearly beloved..." the pastor began, and though Annabelle heard each of his words and filed it away for later, she couldn't seem to concentrate on anything except for Carlisle. The nice, white coat that he had on complemented his skin and hair perfectly, and also matched the dress that she wore. She had managed to keep her dress a secret from him, even though they didn't take part in the tradition of the groom not seeing the bride before the wedding—there wasn't a possible way to considering they were traveling up until then—and she delighted in the way his eyes scanned over her body quickly, too fast for any of the humans to pick it up.

"—I, Annabelle Steele," the pastor said and she realized with a start she zoned out, thinking far too much about the man whose hands she was squeezing and not the pastor. She held back a giggle at the smirk on Carlisle's face, and cleared her throat to repeat after Pastor Wesley.

"I, Annabelle Steele, take you, Carlisle Cullen, for my lawful husband. To have and to hold from this day forward. For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and health. Forever and always."

They had asked him to change the "until death do we part" to "forever and always" as it seemed much more fitting. They wouldn't be dying, so why would they vow it? Forever was theirs and they vowed that to each other from the moment Annabelle decided that her place was by Carlisle's side and not under the stern hand of her father. She would always love and miss her parents, but she knew where she belonged.

Her heart squeezed as she listened to the next few words, a couple Bible verses that Carlisle picked out just for this, and then it was his turn to speak. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited for him to begin, her hands tightening ever so slightly as if he were going to just slip out from under her fingers in the few moments before he said his lines. But deep down she always wondered if there was a mistake; why would God and the universe want a girl like her to be made for a man like him? And yet she was too selfish to give any of it up. She accepted it, and she could see there in his wonder-filled, incredulous eyes that he did as well. The way he gazed at her, the excitement... It made her feel like the most precious and beautiful girl in the world.

"I, Carlisle Cullen, take you, Annabelle Steele, for my lawful wife. To have and to hold from this day forward. For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and health. Forever and always."

Annabelle let out a breath as Fredrick came closer with the rings. Her hand shook slightly as she gingerly pushed the bronze band onto his finger. They weren't wealthy by any means, nothing like what Henry Steele had been, but they had enough to pay the Wesleys for the wedding, donate a little to the church, and get their rings made. His was bronze with various designs carved into the metal. Hers was also bronze and thinner than his and the designs along it matched his nearly perfectly, as much as they could considering the thicknesses of each. But they were perfect for each of them; they made sure to get styles that would fit what they liked, but at the same time be very unique and match each other, which meant they belonged to each other. Of course they knew that without the rings, but they both liked the symbolism of them.

Carlisle was next, taking her hand softly and pressing the cool metal around her left ring finger. His hand encased her much smaller one, their rings glinting off the candle light, and she couldn't stop the happy tears that welled up within her eyes or the way love seemed to squeeze every inch of her body. Tears that would never be shed glittered in his gaze as they stared at each other, just moments away from finally becoming husband and wife.

"By the power vested in me by God and the state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife." He grinned. "You may kiss the bride."

"Finally," Carlisle murmured, just loud enough for Annabelle to hear and she giggled softly. He moved a step closer to her, his arm wrapping around her waist to bring her flush against his chest, and he leaned down to capture her lips in a soft kiss. She could tell he wanted to deepen it, but this was neither the time nor place to do so. Still, his lips didn't come apart from hers until they were good and ready, grins stretched over both of their faces as they gazed lovingly upon each other. All three of the Wesleys clapped and Annabelle giggled once again.

"I present to you: Dr. and Mrs. Carlisle Cullen!" the paster exclaimed and Annabelle's entire body tingled with warmth. Mrs. Cullen, she thought dreamily as Carlisle stole one more kiss from her, profusely thanked the family for helping them and handed over a payment much larger than the one agreed upon—that was Carlisle, for you—and lead Annabelle out of the church. As they stepped outside into the setting sun and crossed to the other side of their carriage away from the prying eyes of the Wesleys, he took her in his arms once again, and kissed her as she knew he had wanted to a few moments before. Deeply, passionately, lovingly. Annabelle hummed, keeping her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and she couldn't keep the grin away from her face.

They were Mr. and Mrs. Cullen, a truly married couple under the eyes of the law and the eyes of God, and she had never been happier.

.x.x.x.x.

-Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Five Years Later, June 1780-

Annabelle groaned for what seemed like the thousandth time as she curled up on the bed with an extremely worried Carlisle hovering next to her. She had been ill on and off for the past month, usually with bouts of sickness in the early hours of the morning and the late hours of the night. It started with intense nausea before finally she expelled everything she had eaten—or attempted to, anyway—leaving her exhausted and covered in a fine layer of sweat. While she was glad that it wasn't constant, the fact that it was happening so often seriously worried her. It cannot be anything serious like cancer, she thought as another wave of nausea hit her and she buried her face in her sweat-dampened pillow. Immortals simply didn't get ill like that. In fact, they shouldn't even be able to get something as simple as a, that's why her parents had been so worried five years previously, and why this new sickness shouldn't be happening then.

It had been five years since they had vowed their forever together, and hardly one moment of it was spent apart. He showed her around the colonies and kept her close by during the war, which was still raging in parts of the slowly developing country. Carlisle had offered his skills during some of the battles as a field doctor. And while they both knew none of those bullets could hurt her, he refused to let her near the action and so she had been confined to their home whenever he was away. It was a bit tedious, but she was able to busy herself with work like cleaning and cooking (though only small meals for herself, unless they had company, which was incredibly rare) and making sure that his private practice was still running as smooth as possible. He worked there during the day when the sun was out, and worked the battlefields at night. Since he didn't need to sleep, he could go straight through until morning. In between his shifts, he spent the moments with her up in their private quarters, either reading together or watching her sew or finding some other things that they both discovered they found quite pleasurable.

But when this new illness hit Annabelle, he had sent his patients both in private and on the battlefield to other doctors and tended to his wife with loving care and worry. He knew as well as she did that this shouldn't be possible, so she was sure he was even more worried than she was as she curled more in on herself, laying her hand over her stomach in hopes the slight pressure would ease it. It had been going on for about an hour and she could tell something would be coming up soon as she felt a small fluttering under her palm. Her whole body was sore, even her breasts, and she was tired of living of soup and crackers.

"It will go away soon," she murmured after another groan, patting his hand. "Do not fret, my darling."

But of course, he just looked even more worried. "I cannot help it," he whispered as he pressed a cool, damp cloth to her forehead. It felt good when he did that. "Please, I know you have done it many times, but tell me your symptoms once again. Then you should sleep and I will consult my books."

She sighed softly, but nodded and listed them off, including the way she could feel her stomach fluttering and churning, and the fact that every inch of her body ached. When she mentioned her sore breasts, he seemed to stiffen and she saw the wheels in his head churning. She frowned as she watched him lose all resemblance of humanness that he put on for her, though she told him countless times over the past half-decade that he didn't need to do that. Still, to watch as his body went still as a statue and his ochre eyes slowly fade to granite, it made her frown and shift a bit.

"What is it, dear?" she wondered, hand reaching for his. It seemed her touch snapped him out of it and he blinked, smiling softly.

"Nothing, Anna. I believe it is nothing, but I shall go read up on it. You sleep and we shall talk again once you wake, alright?"

She didn't look convinced, but nodded nonetheless and leaned in so he could press a kiss to her lips. At least I do not have to worry about getting him sick, she thought wryly. Yawning slightly, she brought the blankets up over her head and brought her knees up closer to her chest, letting the pressure against her stomach take away the nausea as she drifted off into sleep. It didn't feel like it was all that long, floating ever so slightly passed that point of consciousness, before cool hands woke her up again. She groaned and her eyelids fluttered open, brows furrowing as she took in the intense gaze that her husband was giving her.

"It is the only explanation," he was murmuring and she realized she had missed part of what he had said to her. She blinked and, if possible, his face was even paler than usual as he waited for her to react.

"...what?" she murmured, slowly untangling herself from the blankets and her limbs, carefully moving in case the nausea hit, and Carlisle surprised her by shooting his hands forward and arranging her body himself. "What is wrong?" Carlisle took a deep breath, letting it go in one shaky burst and it made Annabelle even more nervous. "Carlisle, please."

"It is the only explanation," he repeated, hand settling over hers at the same time he gently pulled her close to his chest. "But it does not make any sense."

His words seemed almost like he was talking more to himself than to her, and she sighed. "Carlisle," she said one more, a bit more insistent than she had been, her voice shaking.

He looked down at her, fingers running through her raven hair softly as he ran them down her jaw to her chin, lifting her face up to look at him. His gaze was sober and, to her surprise, terrified as those topaz hues searched over her, finally landing on her cerulean ones. Lips parted a couple times to say something, but nothing came out, and she was becoming even more and more increasingly worried. Her heart started beating louder and the cole sweat broke out along her brow once again. But he was already using his other hand to comfort her, his inner beast already sensing its mate in trouble, so his other hand lifted to her stomach where he gently caressed her over the soft fabric of her gown.

"I believe—" He paused, opened his mouth and closed it once more, before sighing. "—Annabelle, I believe you are pregnant." Eyes going wide, heart pounding quicker, she felt herself stop breathing, her entire body stop moving as she stared at him. If it weren't for the fact that he was a doctor and her husband, and not the type of man to joke at times like this, she would've laughed right in his face. Wasn't that very impossible? But he was dead serious, his face ashen and full of resolve.

Quickly she looked down to where his hand lay over her and she realized that it was for more than just her comfort. Suddenly the little flutter she felt in there was more than just the roll of her stomach in nausea. The nausea was morning sickness resulted from the heightened hormones her body was getting. And her breasts being tender were because they were growing as they produced milk.

Oh my gosh, she thought in confused, terrified wonder. I am pregnant.

"I thought that was not possible," she whispered, her voice betraying those very emotions.

It was he who frowned next, his head shaking for a moment as his grip on her chin changed so he was gently stroking the tops of a couple fingers along her jawline.

"It should not be," he whispered. "I have never heard of it happening." He paused. "But I suppose that makes sense because Immortals have been thought to exist for over a millennia. If it has happened, all the records are non-existent for one reason or another."

"And humans would be too weak, I would think," Annabelle sad. "After all, if they cannot handle the emotions from a mating call, how are they to handle something physical like a vampire fetus?"

Carlisle stayed silent then even as he nodded, and she just turned her face to press against his shoulder. While they had no real way of knowing if it were true, and no way of knowing how it would effect her body, she couldn't deny the fact that she was secretly thrilled. She had given up those wishes when she married him, but never thought she was missing out on anything. She had him forever, and that was all she needed. But now? Now there was a hope that she could have this child, that she could have something that she so desperately wanted since she was little, back when she was naive enough to believe she was just human. She was ever so glad that she wasn't because if she was, to be with him she would've had to have changed, and then this couldn't have happened. Because she was pregnant. She was having a baby.

She pressed her face against Carlisle's shoulder harder, unable to stop the smile there, and she could tell he noticed it because she heard him chuckle softly.

"I cannot believe we are going to be parents," he murmured to her. She giggled softly.

"Me either," she whispered. He moved his fingers back to her chin and gently lifted it up to him, giving her a tender kiss.

Author's Note: If you're interested, don't forget to head over to Polyvore and search alysalvatore to view the outfit for this chapter! Thanks again for reading and comments are love!