Wedding.
Wedding day.
Her wedding day.
A wedding day, is usually the most euphoric day of a woman's life.
For Esme, this wasn't the case.
During the early hours of dawn she had awoken from her sleep, terrified at the events that lay ahead that day.
Then promptly at 5 in the morning she was snatched from the comforts of her bed and thrusted into the awakening reality, that was her wedding.
The organized chaos began to unfold as a tidal wave of people started to enter her home. It almost felt like half of the town was in her house, filling every single corner of space that was left. All of them hustling about, each of them seemingly on a mysterious errand as their voices filled the large home with reverberating echoes of what was to be done.
The morning air was sharp and piercing. Cold and unforgiving, the groggy clouds stumbling out of the sky to make way for the fiery sun.
Esme stood in her room as a group of 7 agile people worked around her.
She was practically half asleep as they fitted on her wedding dress, which of course her mother had lovingly chosen for her.
It was quite simple in design, but was gruelling in detail. The dress consisted of delicately embroidered crystals and pearls. You had to move a certain way to make sure not to upset the fragile decors. It was ridiculous; she could even hardly breathe in the darn thing. The fabric was made of pure silk, which made the dress extremely humid and stifling.
She fought to stay awake as she felt a prick of needle brush her skin lightly as the seamstress adjusted the dress from her back side.
Another lady, who hovered over Esme on a small wooden stool, was busy fixing her hair into the proper amount of curls as she neatly twisted her hair into a neat bun.
Esme felt like she was going to explode.
She felt like her hair was being ripped from her skull and that her skin itself was being sewn into the dress.
She didn't feel happy, at all.
She hoped so desperately she would. Somehow to ease her circumstance, but how can anyone be possibly happy in her situation?
A woman is supposed to feel the most beautiful during her wedding day.
But how can she possibly feel beautiful?
She didn't feel even remotely beautiful, she felt like a freak.
Finally after what seemed like hours that seemed to elongate itself into half a century, they were finished.
The women excused themselves as Esme watched them exit the room.
It was an hour before the wedding.
She looked every bit of a blushing bride, standing there in all her loveliness. But the sadness was evident in her eyes.
She stood there feeling lost, not quite sure what to do with herself.
She slowly walked to her white dresser.
Esme slowly lifted her eyes and stared at the stranger looking right back at her.
Had she changed that much?
It seemed so.
Her eyes that once burned with such vital force were now silent and wary.
Her skin a little pale from being indoors, yet still retaining their rosy blush.
She was still the same. Yet she was not.
She let out a heavy sigh as her fingers found their way to the heart pendant which she still wore underneath her clothing.
Her heart was breaking. She felt powerless.
She walked over to her bed and took out his handkerchief, as she did several times in the past when she felt most alone. She leaned her head against the bed post as she held the cloth in her hand. The thought of him was excruciating. The pain sweet with longing as her soul called out to him in silent screams.
Her heart begging for him.
Begging for the kind stranger who had stolen her heart.
Begging for him to come back and return it to her.
God help me, I love him.
She whispered as warm tears fell onto the handkerchief.
Nothing could prepare her for the wave of pain that filled her chest as she ached so desperately for him.
Her thoughts were interrupted with a soft knock. She instantly shoved the handkerchief back to its hiding place and wiped her face dry with her sleeve. She quickly tucked her wrist behind her back to hide the wet stains on the silk cloth.
"Enter." Esme said in an even tone. Control hiding the quiver behind her voice.
Her mother entered all dressed up and ready for the wedding, as a smile lit her careworn face at the sight of her daughter.
"My dear, you truly have grown up." Her mother said with moist eyes.
Esme gave her a small smile.
She motioned for Esme to sit on the bed as she took a seat next to her daughter.
Esme avoided her mother's eyes as she narrowed them down to the floor.
An awkward silence in the air.
Her mother let out a sigh, as a tear escaped the corner of her eye.
"I...I know this hasn't been exactly easy on you." Her mother started to say as she blinked a tear away.
Esme sat there quietly, listening to her words.
"I...I'm sorry...I'm sorry that I didn't give you the choice you deserved to have." She said as her voice started to break.
"But, I had to do what I thought was best for you." She said finally. Desperately pumping strength into her voice.
"Haven't you ever stopped to consider Mama, whether or not I would be happy?" Esme replied, without looking up.
Her mother had no answer.
Mrs Platt looked at her daughter as she took Esme's hand in hers and held them firmly.
"Esme, Esme look at me." Her mother asked.
Esme slowly turned to look at her, a steady gaze into her mother's own eyes.
"I want you to know that I love you very much. And that your father and I...your father and I won't be alive for a long time, we are already old. You're young, and I just...I just don't want you to end up alone." Her mother said as her face contorted into a frown as tears streamed down her cheek.
Esme's heart felt deep sadness at the sight of her mother in tears. She knew what she had to do; she knew she wasn't going to like it. But her mother held a special place in her heart. She knew the word 'No'was out of the question. She loved her mother too deeply to refuse her.
She slowly stood up and wrapped her mother in a warm embrace.
"I love you, Mama."
Mrs Platt never knew whether or not she had made the right decision.
She only did what she thought was right for her daughter, as her mother did before her.
The storm clouds outside were starting to break. The sun's rays lashed through the heavy blankets fighting its way through the heavy depths of cotton sea.
The drive to the town Cathedral was fairly instantaneous. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the dress was just far too stifling, and the fact that she had to have very little movement was torture. She wasn't exactly the type who was able to sit still for a long while, she was the type that was restless and moving. This dress was suffocating her body to a point where she felt like a mummified corpse.
Esme was blessedly thankful as a breeze passed by her when they took a turn to the right, down the familiar street en route to their destination.
The sun was shining brightly now, the weather, just perfect for a wedding.
As they drove on, the large white Cathedral was in sight. A small group of people gathered outside its open doors.
Esme felt nauseous with anxiety.
There was no one there to hold her hand.
No one to tell her it's going to be alright.
No one to tell her whether or not this was right.
No one to ease the turmoil in her heart.
Esme stood there behind the closed doors of the church. The sun shining down at her. She could feel the heat beating down on the nape of her neck, as she clutched the bouqet of flowers in her hand.
Inside the wedding fanfare was beginning.
She felt like she was on tenterhooks.
Everything was set, everyone was ready. There was no turning back.
The large wooden doors opened.
A sea of expectant faces turning to look at her, every one of them and their faces, plastered with a smile.
Her father took her hand as he placed it neatly on the crook of his arm as she began to step on the edges of the aisle.
"You look beautiful sweetie." Her father whispered.
"Thank you Daddy, I love you." She whispered right back.
"Love you too, sweet pea." He replied as he gently covered her hand with his.
The flower petals were scattered across the white carpet, as they made their way slowly down the aisle. All eyes on her.
The walk towards the altar felt like a lifetime to Esme.
She fought with all her might, but the thoughts were coming to life with their own strange rhythm. Beating it's emotions into her veins and into her heart.
Carlisle.
With each step she took, she could feel a piece of herself break.
Her pain masked by the long transparent veil and her smiling veneer.
Each step, bringing back his memory with such a vital force that touched the very core of her.
That face to which her heart beats ever so softly for.
Each step, with his voice ringing clear in her mind, the voice to which she could spend a lifetime listening to. Not bearing a second to even part with.
Each step, his words replaying in her mind. With the familiarity of an old song she had never listened to, but knew by heart. His smile to which she longed to touch.
Each step, his eyes flashing like the golden sun. In the eyes of the man her soul weeps bitterly for. Her heart forever in exquisite agony of longing.
She knew she loved him, she knew she will never stop loving him.
It was only a matter of waiting when time would smile down on her.
But now the pain inside of her threatened to burst.
Carlisle.
Carlisle, please.
In her mind she was pleading, begging him to save her from the destiny that awaited her.
They had reached the altar.
The priest started the ceremony.
The room was hushed, as gazes fell on the couple that was standing in front of the large altar.
But she couldn't hear the words properly. Her mind was constantly wandering to Carlisle.
She could vaguely see through her veil, Charles smiling at her as he stood there in his best suit.
Esme closed her eyes.
Carlisle,
I don't want to love anyone else.
But you.
Only you.
She confessed in her mind silently as a tear escaped the corner of her eyes.
His face.
His memory.
The only thing keeping her from sinking.
The church had gone completely quiet. The priest was looking at her expectantly.
The old priest's thin lips parted as he spoke once again.
"Do you, Esme Ann Platt, Take this man Charles Evenson. To be your lawful wedded husband, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse. As long as you both shall live?"
This was it, this was the moment.
"No." She said, firmly. She looked at Charles with fierce tenacity. "I'm sorry Charles, I don't love you."
She could see in a vague distance as she turned to look at the sea of people, her mother had fainted.
Charles Evenson's mouth hung open, he was utterly flabbergasted.
At that very moment the church doors bursted open, the doors slamming to both sides with a crash. Her heart stopped, only for a sweet moment.
One look at the man who was standing there and her heart twisted in sweet ecstasy.
She ran with all speed from the aisle as all eyes followed her.
She crashed into his arms as he enveloped her in a desperate embrace.
She held his face in her hands, her eyes streaming with tears of happiness as she looked into his eyes, smiling at her.
He gently lifted her veil as he placed a soft hand on her cheek, wiping her tears away with the bare skin on his thumb.
"I was dying...I just wanted you to burst through that door and, and..." Her voice was breaking as she stammered for words.
"Esme. . ." He said breathlessly as he leaned his forehead against hers. Her name all the more sweeter as he said it.
"I love, you." He whispered.
She leaned in closer to him. Their lips only inches apart. Their breaths, softly intertwining.
She could feel the strength in his arms tighten around her waist as he gently pulled her closer to him.
Their hearts thirsting.
And only their sweet lips could quench the barren wasteland their hearts have been trapped in.
A crack of thunder had woken her up from her dream. She shifted slightly in her bed, her heart filled with deep sadness. A sob threatened to escape as she swallowed the feeling back down. Desperately trying to get a hold of herself.
If only it wasn't a dream. . .
She glanced at Charles who was sleeping next to her.
She knew she was married.
A/N: Hey guys! here's chapter 9, I know, I know, please don't hate me. Sorry about the whole dream thing but hey a girl needs to dream right? Hope you enjoy! Thanks so much for reading, keep em' reviews coming! Love you all and God bless, stay tuned for chapter 10 :)
Oh and to a question a reviewer of mine asked, actually I came up with the title in chapter 8. That's how much of a hopeless romantic I am. Haha! I was playing with the word 'Love' in my mind and wondered what else to add into it. So I thought of the sappy and soppy old poetic english side of me and that's how I got the title! Haha. :)
Again, thank you all very much for your kind words. They mean a lot to me and I just love you all :') Your reviews make me all giddy and excessively high on happiness :D So thank you all from the bottom of my heart :)
Hang on tight for chapter 10! :)