Edward's POV

Monday

Bella slept like the dead.

I frowned as I watched her, eerily still, throughout the night. My fingers traced her face with the lightest pressure, wondering what she was dreaming about tonight. Usually, she gave me some insight into the mysterious, inner workings of her mind, though it was completely involuntary on her part. Tonight, however, I didn't get a single mutter out of her.

She'd seemed completely out of it by the time she'd prepared for bed last night, which would explain her unusual silence.

At least she seemed better than the night before. I winced when I remembered her hysteria and endless weeping as she cried over the boy she had to let go of. The sight of her gasping for breath, shoulders heaving, with endless tears streaming down her cheeks… my heart hadn't beat for a century, but it felt like mine had broken last night. Not once, but over and over with each sob, each tear, each gasp.

I took a shaky breath. She'd assured me she was making the right decision, and I believed her, but my truth from the tent yesterday morning rang in my ears nonetheless. She could have me, any part or nothing at all, if she wanted. The only thing that mattered was that she was happy.

The steady, soothing thrumming of her heart was the only thing keeping me from going insane from the maddening silence and the dark turn my thoughts had taken me. To distract myself, I closed my eyes and counted each heartbeat, waiting out the hours till she woke.

Eight thousand two hundred and six… eight thousand two hundred and seven… eight thousand—

The sudden shrill ring of the phone downstairs surprised me. I raised my head and shot a puzzled glance at Bella's clock on the nightstand. It wasn't even six o'clock yet. Who on earth would be calling at this hour?

Bella didn't even stir, but Charlie had startled out of his slumber, his thoughts foggy. As the phone continued to ring, I heard no sounds of movement from Charlie's room. It seemed like he was determined to ignore it and hold onto his sleep. The ringing stopped. There was a three-second pause, before it started up again.

A low swear sounded from the other room. I heard Charlie groan and heave himself off the bed. He went stumbling towards the phone, his mind tainted with annoyance at the incessant sound. I pictured his daughter stumbling the same way and allowed myself a tiny smile.

He yanked the phone off the hook and, trying to force his eyes open, muttered groggily, "'Lo?"

"Charlie? Hey!"

My amazement echoed Charlie's.

"Renée?" He cleared the sleep out of his voice. "What's going on?"

"I told Bella I'd call her today to talk about the wedding! Oh, isn't it wonderful? Our baby's getting married!"

There was a beat of silence as Charlie's mind struggled to keep up.

Wonderful? "She told you already?" Charlie asked blankly, even though that was not the question he meant to ask. He was still trying to process Renée's exuberant tone. I must still be asleep.

Renée burst into excited squeals about the wedding and plane tickets that Charlie barely paid attention to. "Hold on, Renée," he interrupted, his voice clearer and dripping with disbelief. "You can't tell me you're actually happy about this?"

I could picture her shrugging when she responded, "Well, why not?"

Charlie was momentarily at a loss for words, still pondering over her reaction. "What's gotten into you? For one, she's too young to be married. And another, she's too young to be married."

"That's just what I scared her into believing," Renée sighed. "Seriously, Charlie, not you too. Look, I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told her. I know it's rather early than what we were expecting for her. But life doesn't always follow a plan. I mean, we thought we knew what we were doing and look how that turned out."

"I know that," he said quietly.

"Besides, Bella is responsible, more responsible than we ever were. And it seems Edward is too. You and I both know they're going to find a way to be together no matter what, and I think it's very mature of them to decide to get married before taking the step to live together. Seems a little out of place for the twenty-first century, I know." Renée chuckled. "But who cares what other people think? He clearly makes our little girl happy, which is all that matters."

Charlie didn't answer. He knew and agreed with all of this already, considering his acceptance last night. But there was still a secret part of him hoping for any excuse to push back on the wedding—he'd been counting on Renée to postpone this. It was less about Bella's choice to marry itself, and more about trying to hold on to he+r for as long as possible.

"I gave you both the wrong impression apparently," Renée exhaled. "It was never about her choices. Well, not really. We can guide and support her all we want, but in the end, she's going to make her own decisions and she'll probably do what she wants anyway, with or without us. You know how headstrong Bella is. Wouldn't you rather be there for her and accept her choices instead of getting in her way and giving her a reason to alienate us?"

I felt the familiar sting whenever I thought of this. Bella would be alienating her parents soon enough anyway. Because of me. I tried to refocus on the conversation downstairs.

Charlie ran a hand exhaustedly down his face and puffed out a heavy breath, completely resigned. "Yeah, I know. I know that. But I'm not gonna lie, I was expecting you to be a bit more… It's just…" He trailed off, I'm going to miss her so much. His restless gaze caught on the clock and he did a double take. "Renée, it's five thirty in the morning!"

"Oh! I didn't realize! No wonder nobody answered the first ring." She laughed apologetically. "Sorry about that, Charlie. I was just too excited and couldn't wait to talk to her again. Ah, I still can't believe it! I'm going to a mother-in-law. Gosh, I'm old. Well, anyway, tell her to call me! I'll let you go back to sleep."

As if I could sleep now, Charlie grimaced, thinking he had about an hour before he'd have to get up for work anyway. "She's still sleeping, but I'll let her know."

They exchanged regards, disgruntled ones on Charlie's part, and hung up.

As Charlie shuffled around the house, too keyed up to go to bed again, I reflected on the conversation. I'd heard pretty much the same from what Bella had told me yesterday, but it was a different thing outright hearing Renée support us, and with such conviction too. It mattered more to me than I ever admitted to Bella of her parents' approval. She'd never been outright disapproving of me the way Charlie had been - most of her scrutiny had to do with the suspicious intensity of my relationship with her daughter and the natural worry that all mothers had about their children's heartbreak.

Renée's blatant acceptance of me filled me with so much warmth that I couldn't resist turning to Bella and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "I love you," I told her her slumbering form quietly and settled in again to wait, trying to keep the familiar guilt that I was ruining her life at bay..

The hours passed slowly. I only had to leave her side once to hide in her closet once when Charlie decided to peek into her room. He seemed pleased and I caught a hint of relief mixed in his thoughts when he saw her. I had to muffle a laugh when I realized his imagination had gotten the best of him and he'd been picturing us running off together to Vegas now that our intention of marriage was out in the open.

Charlie's thoughts were an incoherent babble, but I had enough insight to know what he was feeling. If I had Jasper here, I knew he'd be tasting the reassurance, the hopelessness, the dread, and the utter betrayal from Charlie's scattered emotions. He was still grumbling and muttering to himself as he wrote a message for Bella that her mother had called and stomped out of the house to go to work.

Once Charlie was gone, I relaxed again beside her and watched as the rising sun sent rays of light into her room and on her. I contented myself with watching the light bring out the familiar reddish tint in her hair that I loved so much. It wasn't until after eleven when she began to show signs of life and groaned.

Eyes blinking blearily at me, her lips started to curve into the shy smile that somehow made my still heart feel too big for my chest.

"Good morning," I smiled. "Did you get good sleep? You slept a long time."

"Yeah," she croaked, then immediately frowned.

"Everything alright?" I asked.

She nodded, rubbing her eyes. She swallowed once, then said, "Guess I was more tired than I thought."

"Do you want to sleep in?" I offered, thinking back to her apparent fatigue last night. "Charlie's gone to work, and you have the whole day and summer ahead of you."

"No, it's fine." She shook her head and squinted at the window. Her voice was still a little rough when she added, "Besides, it seems late. Renée said she was going to call me in the morning. What time is it?"

"Shortly after eleven. But you don't have to worry about Renée. She already called while you were sleeping. You slept through it all. It was too early." I couldn't hold back my laugh. "Your father had quite the wake-up call."

"Let me guess. She forgot she was three hours ahead of us and woke him up at the crack of dawn."

"Yes. He was quite grumpy, but it was nothing compared to his reaction to her reaction." I chuckled as I remembered his disgruntlement. "I don't envy Charlie right now. He was expecting Renée to play the bad cop."

"So was I," Bella muttered, swallowing again and looking uncomfortable.

My eyebrows furrowed as I studied her carefully. The circles under her eyes had darkened since yesterday. "Are you sure you're alright? You sound a little off."

Waving a dismissive hand, she said, "It's just 'cause I woke up so tired. I'll be fine once I drink some water."

I stared after her, not entirely reassured, as she left to freshen up in the bathroom.

Too uneasy to sit still, I flew downstairs and filled a glass of water to have ready for her. While she got ready upstairs, I started on her breakfast preparation, hoping to be done before she could argue. Much.

I heard her call my name a few minutes later.

"In the kitchen, love."

She padded downstairs, surprised to find me scraping scrambled eggs onto a plate. "You're cooking?"

"Something simple but filling," I said lightly, gesturing pointedly to the water.

To my relief, she took an obedient sip and as we were waiting for the toast to finish, she edged hopefully towards the cupboards where I knew she stored the Pop-Tarts. I gave her a stern look and slipped between her and the counter before she could blink.

"This—" I held up the offensive item and said firmly, "—is junk. You can have it for dessert, if you'd like, but breakfast is the most important meal of the day and I won't have you eating this. You'll get a sugar rush."

"Sugar rush," she protested, her lips pushing into a pout. "Edward, need I remind you that I've eaten these for breakfast before and I've never been on a sugar rush."

"That's besides the point," I shrugged, walking over to the toaster. "You need some protein. Pop-Tarts can wait."

She scowled at me but grudgingly took a seat as I spread butter on one toast and strawberry jam on the other, just the way she liked it, and added them to her plate.

"Eat up," I encouraged. "How's the food?"

"Why? Did you poison it?" she snickered.

"Well, it's not like I could taste it. I hope it turned out fine."

"It did, but even if you weren't amazing at everything and hadn't seen me make it before, it's kind of impossible to mess up scrambled eggs and toast. It's like boiling water. Even the most inexperienced can't go wrong."

She'd obviously meant it to be comforting, but I frowned. "That's not much of a challenge." I started planning for something grander next time. I needed some inspiration.

"I'd say cooking with human food is enough of a challenge, regardless of whether it turns out okay or not. You said so yourself, everything smells extremely unappetizing and gross to you."

I shook my head wryly. How little she still understood about me. There was no greater need I had than taking care of her, in any way I could. Cooking for her was just a small aspect of our dynamic admittedly, considering her self-sufficiency and my overall lack of experience in that regard, but a part of it nonetheless. My revulsion to the smells of human food was inconsequential, a sacrifice hardly worth thinking about, when the real challenge — and gift — was that she was healthy and happy.

"It's worth it," I promised, then changed the subject. "So what do you want to do today?"

She chewed thoughtfully. "I should probably call Renée as soon as I'm done. I don't doubt she's twitching beside the phone right now."

"Weren't you saying you wanted to hand her off to Alice? But Alice is probably occupied with the wedding plans. Perhaps it's time for the mothers-in-law to get acquainted."

"Esme?" she asked, startled.

"If anyone can rein your mother in, it's her," I said confidently.

"Yeah, I guess so. Are you sure Esme wouldn't mind?"

"Of course, Esme's almost as thrilled about this as I am. This is the first wedding she's been a part of where she can actually meet the in-laws. Where she officially is an in-law."

She grinned. "That's true."

After she finished her meal, she ended up spending the next hour on the phone with Renée. I watched on silently with a fond smile as she hmm'd, yeah'd, and uh-huh'd as her mother prattled on about flower arrangements, guests, cake, music, dancing, decorations and other wedding details that Bella knew little and cared even less about. Every time Bella tried to suggest that Renée call Esme who would've had a better idea and been an equally enthusiastic participant of the conversation, Renée would burst into another round of enthusiastic chatter. Bella shook her head affectionately each time and just waited patiently until her mother took in her next breath.

"Finally!" Bella exclaimed, once she'd claimed hunger as an excuse to get off the phone.

"You'd think she'd be all talked out by now," I remarked, continuing to run my fingers through her hair as I had been for the last hour. Tangling her hair was one of my favorite pastimes. And the combined look of exasperation, horror, and humor on her face whenever she caught sight of the mess in the mirror afterwards was priceless.

"Not Renée," she groaned. "The next two months are gonna be torture. All I hope is that Esme can keep her entertained enough and off my back."

AN: Thanks for reading my ramblings :)