Thanks for all your feedback. You make this story so much fun to write. It's wedding day. Hope you like. XO
By the time Emma crossed the footbridge and arrived at the makeshift wedding tent in front of the rough-hewn stone tower at Blue Hills Reservation, David was pacing back and forth in his tux, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Emma was supposed to help him tie up some loose ends, help direct guests from the park entrance to the Eliot Tower, but the traffic from Storybrooke was a gnarled mess, and by the time she reached the historic site, about an hour south of Boston, Emma could see he had let the nerves get the best of him.
She cursed herself again for being late and scurried over to him, placed a gentle hand on his back, and greeted his eyes with an apologetic look. He deflected it, scowling scornfully at her.
"I know. I know. Please don't hate me. I left as soon as I could. God, so self-centered. You act like it's your freaking wedding day or something," she said. "No seriously, I'm sorry. I'm here now. What can I do? Pigs in a blanket? Pin a rose on somebody? Spell-check your vows? I'm here for you."
David looked at Emma, soft blonde curls framing her face, slightly flushed from rushing, light make up enhancing those high cheek bones and green eyes. He gestured to her blue strapless dress, which was somehow simple and stunning all at once.
"Wow. I don't think I've ever seen you dressed like a grown up. You look like an actual woman."
"Uh thanks, that's incredibly flattering. You clean up pretty well yourself," she said, nudging his shoulder. "Where's your lovely bride? And seriously, what can I do? Put me to work."
"She's finishing getting ready. I think we're in great shape. We are only expecting about 20 people, so there's not that much to do. Mary Margaret wanted it to be 'intimate.' There's one thing you can do. Will you take a walk with me?"
Emma looked down at her kitten heels with distain. Then her eyes suddenly brightened.
"Yes! Give me one sec."
She ran back to her Bug, opened the trunk, and pulled out her overnight bag. She dug out her Uggs, switched into them, and ran back to David in the mismatched attire, carrying her heels in her hands. She tossed them on a white-clothed high-top table and tucked her hand through David's arm, giving him a wink.
He laughed.
"There's the Emma I know."
"Shall we?" the blonde said, smiling.
"Lets go."
They walked for about five minutes without talking, barely noting the stunning scenery and dramatic vistas—Emma could see David was battling his nerves. She was anxious too, the likelihood of finally seeing Regina making her stomach clench with excitement and fear. She shivered, almost imperceptibly, her bare arms covered in goose bumps from the crisp cold air, and David pulled his tux jacket off and slipped it over her shoulders wordlessly. Emma smiled at the gesture, and eventually, she gave his arm a little squeeze and turned to face him.
"You ok? Are you ready for all this?"
"Yes, I'm ready. It's not that. I don't have any doubts about… her. Regina has teased me mercilessly about the Snow White thing, but Mary Margaret, she's good, and she makes me just… better. I'm insanely, pathetically, stupidly in love with her."
Emma gave him a sloppy sideways grin.
"That's… gross. But also adorable. I could not be happier for you guys. So what's with the pacing and the chewing a hole through your lip? Are you having doubts about getting married, or—"
"—it's not her I doubt. I just hope I don't do something dumb to blow it. You know?"
Emma nodded in understanding.
"Please. Believe me, I know a little bit about self-doubt. But I also know what a good man you are. You are the man who gave a shot to a complete nobody when you had absolutely nothing to gain. Whatever your flaws, you are an incredible, generous person, and I've been so lucky to have you in my life, and so is Mary Margaret. You will be the best husband, Charming."
"Man, you always know how to make me feel better," he said, taking a deep breath. "Emma, what about you? Have you talked to her? What's going on with Regina?"
Emma's face soured, exposing the boney rawness of her emotions.
"You know what? This is your day. After you get back from Wonderland or wherever you're going on your honeymoon, I can dish all the gory details."
David frowned. "Swan. Just spill. At least tell me… do you know if she's coming?"
"You're asking me? I thought you'd know," she said, shaking her head. "I haven't spoken to her. I hope she comes. I know she'd be devastated to miss this day."
David slung his arm around her shoulders, steering her back in the direction of the wedding tent.
"Come on. I gotta go get married."
"Lets do it," Emma said.
By the time they got back to the tower where the wedding was taking place, guests were taking their seats. Emma recognized a few faces—co-workers and chef friends from the restaurant, a group of Mary Margaret's longtime friends who David referred to by personality type (Grumpy, Sleepy, Dopey), and a few people Emma didn't know. But not her.
Emma walked with David down the aisle and took her place next to him at the altar, the ordained minister, a curly haired doctor friend named Archie, standing to Emma's right. Her eyes again picked through the crowd searchingly. Where is she? A small smile was registered on her face, but a thick layer of sadness was settled just under the surface. It was then, waiting for the bride, that Emma realized how much she'd hoped to see her here, how much she'd been counting on it. She had been so sure she'd come. For David.
An eternity passed, and the guests grew cold and restless. Emma began to worry if she should go see if Mary Margaret needed help with her dress or a swift kick in the backside. But then the cellist and violinist, perched discreetly behind the guests, began playing "Air in the G String," and a figure appeared at the top of the aisle.
Emma gasped, and David reached out a hand to her lower back to steady and reassure her.
She took in one part of Regina at a time. The shoulder-length raven hair, the red dress that dipped and plunged and curved wherever it was asked, the smoky eyes cast straight ahead, plump red lips pulled into a meaningless configuration. Regina looked perfect, but she gave nothing away, and that made Emma ache. She waited a beat, and then began to take thin, ladylike steps, fluidly moving ahead, toward Emma, but she wouldn't meet her eyes. With each breath, she drew closer, and the pounding of Emma's heart made it hard to hear anything else.
And then she was before her, right there. Emma could touch her. She desperately wanted to touch her, just the tiniest meeting of skin to remind her of their connection, but she kept her hands stilled at her sides.
Regina gave David a smile and a small kiss to his cheek, whispering something in his ear that made him smile, and she came to a final stop right next to Emma at the altar. Gathering herself, Emma turned her head to the side and looked at Regina again, and that's when she saw it. The swan talisman hung proudly around her neck, blessedly unaware of its own meaning. Understanding danced across Emma's face, and a sound must have escaped her, some auditory proof of her relief, and finally Regina brought her eyes up to meet Emma's. Tears immediately sprung to Regina's brown eyes, seeing the fullness of Emma's warmth and uncertainty, and they lost themselves in the moment.
And then, somewhere in the background the bride appeared, and the crowd got to their feet. There was music, Archie's slow, melodic voice, and then tender promises of love. But it all faded into a fuzzy swirl of motion and sound. Emma only felt a hand reach out for hers, warm, familiar fingers lacing with her own. She heard a sigh, a sharp inhale, and her name crossing Regina's lips.
As the crowd clapped in congratulations, preoccupied with the nuptials before them, the kiss of a newly minted married couple, and the joyful smiles on their faces, Regina turned to Emma and leaned in. So close. Emma dizzied as she felt her breath on her neck and cool skin of her cheek brushing against her jaw.
And in the tiniest hairsbreadth of a whisper, Emma heard the words that she hoped would change everything.
"I love you, Emma."
They followed David and Mary Margaret down the aisle and into the private area that was set up for the couple. Emma and Regina congratulated them, and Emma took in David's new wife fully for the first time. Her skin looked porcelain against her short, jet-black hair, and a warm blush had settled across her chest and cheeks, resulting from the chill in the air and the excitement of the moment. Her strapless gown was belted at the waist in a thin velvet strap of fabric, making her look slender and sophisticated. Emma whispered in her ear how lovely she looked and how much David loved her, and the redness in her cheeks brightened.
Then she moved to David, hugging him fully.
"You did it. Amazing. Now don't blow it," she said, winking at him.
Regina suddenly appeared with four champagne flutes, handing one to each of them.
"To David and Mary Margaret. I wish you so much happiness in your life together," she said, a broad smile on her face. "I love you guys. Cheers!"
They clinked glasses and drank, and Mary Margaret pulled David outside, rounding up the photographer for pictures before darkness fell and the reception began.
Alone together for the first time in a month, Emma and Regina eyed each other intently, nervously, just a few feet between them, and the air thickened and warmed. Neither spoke for a moment, but Regina breeched the space between them, taking a step closer to Emma. She turned fully to face her and set her glass on the temporary vanity. It took all of Emma's willpower not to collect Regina in her arms and kiss her senseless. But she let Regina take the lead.
"Can I hold your hand?" Regina said with a gravelly voice.
Emma nodded, offering it to her. Regina looked down at the proffered hand with gratitude, gathering it in both of her own. The hand was her conch shell, giving her the permission and courage to find her words.
"Emma. I'm not sure telling you how sorry I am is enough, but it seems like the right place for me to start. If I could go back to that morning in the hotel and give myself more courage, allow myself to fully trust in what we had to face whatever was to come, that's what I would do."
Suddenly the color drained from Emma's cheeks.
"What we had?" she said in a tiny voice.
Regina scoffed at herself, but instead of finding words to reassure Emma, she pushed away the last of the space between them and wrapped herself around her, inserting herself fully in her space. She cupped Emma's cheek and met her eyes.
"Have. What we have. I can't—I don't want to be without you. I was just so afraid of losing you that I pushed you away. I'm so sorry I hurt you. If you're willing to forgive me for being so weak when you needed me to be strong…"
Tears slid down Emma's cheeks, but she nodded, tenting her head with Regina's.
"I felt empty without you," Emma breathed. "I know we hadn't been together that long, but somehow you changed everything. And without it, I just felt…"
"Lost," Regina said, sadness still thick in her voice. "I felt the same way. Empty. We have a lot to talk about, but tonight, can we just…will you be my date?"
Emma's eyes shone, finally letting the joy sink in.
"You came to a wedding without a date?" she said with a crooked smile.
Regina shook her head.
"Well, there's this blonde. She's gorgeous and talented and smoking hot in bed. She's got me totally whipped," Regina said with a smirk. But then her face melted into a gentle smile. "And I'm so in love with her."
Emma cupped Regina's face and brought their lips together for a soft kiss that lingered, neither of them wanting to pull away. Emma touched the talisman with her fingertips and nudged her nose against Regina's cheek.
"She's so in love with you too," Emma whispered.