So, so much love to all of you.

Chapter 3: Christmas Spirit

Bella

Sunday, December 3, 2023

Seattle, Washington

I'm already awake when Edward's alarm goes off.

I hear him get up, and can imagine him yawning and stretching as he makes his way to the bathroom.

A couple minutes later, he's coming out of our room, looking beautifully sleep rumpled.

"Hey," he rasps, stopping in his tracks when he spots me on the sofa. "What are you doing up?"

He comes over, leaning down to press a kiss to my lips and I can't help smiling up at him.

"Couldn't sleep," I answer as he pulls back. "Figured I'd get some of this stuff done." I motion toward the coffee table that is currently covered in craft supplies. Why I thought I could make our wedding favors when I don't have a crafty bone in my body is absolutely beyond me.

Edward hums, eyeing the pile. "Making any progress?" he asks, scratching at his chin.

"Well, I've only glued my fingers together twice," I quip, making him chuckle. He leans over, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"I'm going to get some coffee. Can I top you up?" He motions toward my empty mug on the table and I hand it to him gratefully. He slips into the kitchen and I turn back to the ornaments.

If everything had gone to plan, Edward and I would be married by now. We'd planned originally for a June wedding, right near his birthday. The venue had been set, every detail planned and on schedule.

Then the venue had a small fire on the property. No one had been injured, thankfully, but the damage had been too significant. We'd rescheduled for September at another venue, but then my dad had had a fishing accident that resulted in a broken leg. With his house being a steep two stories, he'd had a hard time getting around, and I'd gone out to Forks off and on for weeks trying to help him out. Once again, our wedding had been pushed off.

Even though both instances were truly unique accidents, I can't help taking them both as signs the universe is trying to tell me something.

Edward, of course, has been his usual supportive and loving self through all this, and though he's disappointed too, he came up with a great idea to get married on the anniversary of our first date.

So here we are, planning a third wedding for December 23. I'm so nervous something will go wrong, I've hardly slept since we entered the month of December.

"Did you sleep at all?" Edward asks, coming back into the living room and offering me my coffee mug. I take it, sipping the hot liquid gratefully.

"Sort of," I say around the cup, shrugging one shoulder. Edward's eyebrows quirk up. He knows I'm lying, but won't call me on it.

"Bella," he sighs and I internally wince. Maybe he will call me out on it. "Babe, you have to get sleep. If something is going to happen, running yourself into the ground won't help."

My eyes widen. "You think something is going to happen this time too?" My voice is about an octive higher than normal, horrified at the thought that our wedding could be ruined, again.

"No, Babe, listen to me," he says, setting his coffee cup on the table before leaning toward me. "Nothing is going to stop me from marrying you, do you hear me? We've had a string of bad luck, but I think it was because we were always meant to get married in Forks on our anniversary. It's where we started, and where we will start again as husband and wife." His hands are large and warm as they cup my cheeks. "We're going to be married, even if I have to get one of our friends ordained."

I sniff. "Emmett said he'd do it but he couldn't promise the whole ceremony wouldn't be sex jokes," I admit.

Edward lets out a laugh, then leans forward, kissing me sweetly. "Everything is going to work out," he murmurs gently against my lips. "You'll see."

I pull back enough to look at him. I've loved this man for two years now, and though in the grand scheme of things it's hardly any time, every moment with him has been like a lifetime of joy and love I never thought I'd be able to know. I didn't think it was in the cards for me, and in two years, Edward's completely changed my mind.

I can't wait to marry him.

"I trust you," I say on a sigh. "Thank you for talking me down."

He smiles before reaching for his coffee cup. I take another sip of my own as we settle on the sofa.

"How busy is your day today?" Edward has been having to work weekends for almost a month now. It's been hard on both of us, but I we both know there is a very near light at the end of this tunnel.

Edward winces. "Pretty slammed," he sighs. "We're not going to have much down time until the Lindman account is finalized. I hate to think this, but I might have the team work late this week, just to stay on schedule." At the mention of work, I can hear stress creep into his voice. I shift my coffee mug into one hand, bringing the other up to rub his neck. He leans into my touch, his eyes fluttering shut, head tilting back.

"Just a few more days," I remind him gently. "Then we're off to Forks."

Edward looks at me and smiles. "I can't wait."

…

I stay awake long enough to see Edward off to work, then once he's gone, I promptly pass out on our bed. I've been up for more than twenty-four hours and my body is not happy about it.

I wake up a few hours later, groggy but decidedly calmer. My next shift isn't until tomorrow night, so while I have the time, I pull myself together to clean our apartment.

When we'd first moved in together, there had been an awkward transition period as we'd learned each other's weird quirks and habits. I couldn't finish off a jug of milk and frequently left a splash in the carton, and Edward—having never lived with a woman before—left the bathroom seat up constantly. It had been a rough adjustment for both of us, but despite that, nothing had felt better than to merge our lives together.

Our lives have only gotten more hectic since then, but now we both take turns cleaning and keeping up the apartment. When it's my night off, I cook dinner, when Edward has a night off, he cooks. If we both worked, we order out.

Our system has led to a mostly peaceful cohabitation so far.

When I'm done cleaning and have a pot roast started, I head to our spare bedroom we use as storage. I know we won't be around for Christmas, but I can't help but decorate at least somewhat.

I haul out our holiday boxes into the living room, smiling. I get some Christmas music blasting through our speakers, and to the crooning voice of Bing Crosby, I start popping box tops up, pulling out garlands and tiny figurines.

By the time Edward comes home, I'm filled with the reviving Christmas Spirit.

"Hey!" I shout as he comes in. "Merry Christmas!"

Edward's eyes widen as he looks around the apartment, taking in the garlands strung everywhere, the figurines on every flat surface we own, and the lights I've managed to put along the ceiling. Finally his eyes land on me. "Are you drunk?" he asks with a chuckle.

I giggle. "Drunk on Christmas spirit," I sing to him, gliding across the apartment to wrap my arms around him. "How was your day, Honey?"

Edward laughs, dropping his bag to wrap his arms around my waist. "Much better now," he says before leaning down to press his lips to mine. His kiss is warming and stirs up an unexpected hunger in me.

I pull back, shaking my head. "Okay, no. If we go down that path I won't get any more decorations up," I say giggling.

Edward grins and his arms squeeze around my waist. "We have plenty up," he counters.

"But I just made our bed," I tease, my heart feeling so light and easy that I want to play with him.

Edward's hoists me up into his arms, surprising a squeak out of me. "Then let's go mess it up," he answers, navigating us toward our room.

I can't help the giggles that come out of me the entire way.

Christmas has this magical way of healing heavy hearts. Combined with the potent magic of Edward's love, I know that no matter what, this Christmas will be our best ever.

Even if we have to have a sex-joke full ceremony conducted by one of our best friends.