“Momma?” My beautiful Renesmee asked me as I helped Alice twist my daughter’s bronze curls into an intricate bun atop her head. Her voice shook slightly as I met her eyes in the mirror, and she had reverted back to calling me ‘Momma,’ something she hadn’t done in…well, 6 and a half years in fact.

“Yes Renesmee?” I took a glance over at Alice and she looked away from my eyes quickly. So I was on my own here; she wasn’t about to let me know anything.

“Actually Bella, I think I’m going to go and see if the ushers are organized,” she winked and I sighed. So it was going to be a private mother/daughter discussion then.

“Did you have any…doubts before you married Dad?” I finished weaving the veil through her bun, and she turned around on the stool to face me. I sat down on the adjacent stool and took in her expression before answering.

Her dark brown eyes, so like mine once were, swam with emotion as she looked back at me. Her heart was even beating more erratically than usual. Could it be possible she was having some doubts of her own?

“Oh honey,” I took her warm hand in my cold one and stroked it gently, “Of course I had doubts, fears and worries: would I ever be able to see my father or mother again? Was I ready to become a vampire? Could I possibly not live through the change? And what would it do…to Jake; oh poor Jake…” My shoulders slumped and I lowered my head in remembrance, my loose mahogany hair falling over my face.

“What?” she yelped, and through our contact she sent me an image of Jake crying, one she’d imagined after hearing me speak. “Why ‘poor Jake?’ Mom, was Jake this other man you’ve told me about before? I want to know…” Her eyes turned desperate as she gripped my hand fervently.

I’d let it out; she knew the truth now. Would it upset her in any way, though? Could I put off telling her until after the wedding? Surely she’d understand.

“Ness, today is your day to be happy and shine. The past is past, but this, the here and now-,” I smoothed the skirt of her exquisite strapless dress with my free hand and patted her knee through the fabric – “you, is what matters today. Stories of lost love can be saved for another time.”