The Summer Wedding | A Belly and Jeremiah fanfic

Chapter Ten

Sorry that it's been a while, but ignore that and enjoy another chapter of Belly and Jere. You're welcome ;)

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I can't remember the first time I met the Fishers. I've known them my whole life. My mom and Susannah have been friends for so long that I doubt even they can remember how they met. Regardless, Susannah and the boys are as much a part of my family as my own parents and brother. I love them all as if we were all blood related.

It's strange to think that I spent my whole childhood dreaming about the perfect wedding to one of the Fisher boys, and yet I couldn't imagine marrying anybody else from the moment I met George.

That's how in love I thought myself to be. I was willing to give up on my dreams. My dream of loving the Fisher boys until I die. It was around the time I met George, that I lost touch with the boys. I am in no way blaming that on George, but I think he had something to do with it.

I thought my life was so perfect that I wouldn't need my family anymore. George would be my family. We would start our own family. We would be happy.

It was Conrad and Jeremiah's return into my life that made me question everything. They were like a whirlwind that blew up my life. They showed me what love was because they were my true family and they always would be.

Without them, I had somehow convinced myself that I was in love with someone else.

Despite all of this, I have nobody to blame but myself.

These are the thoughts that haunted me last night. I barely got any sleep due to the constant reminders from my own traitorous brain, that I was miserable, and George was heartbroken, because of me. It was all my fault. I let myself fall for someone. I forgot what love actually felt like. I should know what love feels like because I never stopped loving the Fisher brothers.

"Good morning, Bells." The voice makes me jump, but it's welcome all the same. Anything that rids me of these toxic thoughts are welcome to interrupt.

"I wish it were," I mumble and bury my face in my duvet, just enough so that I can still look at Jeremiah.

His hair is all disheveled and his eyes are dark from lack of sleep. Is it wrong for me to be glad I weren't the only one to get no sleep? God knows George won't have slept either. Should I be happy about that too? Fuck– I need to think about something else.

Jeremiah immediately stands, stretches out each long limb, that I swear he never grew out of, and begins picking up the cushions and folding the blankets that made up the poor, makeshift bed we created for him on the floor, last night.

"I don't think I can ever leave this room." I look around the place I grew up in. The place I used to be so comfortable in. I was more myself back then. I don't know if I'll ever be that girl again. Happy. She was happy.

"That's fine. I spent the whole night thinking about breakfast in bed. What do you think?" Jeremiah asks with a pleased grin. I can't help but smile. It's hidden under the covers, but I still erase it immediately out of guilt. What right do I have to smile?

"Sounds heavenly," I respond.

He nods before putting away the last of the blankets, "coming right up!"

"Jere," I call out as his hand begins to reach for the door handle.

He turns back to me. I take him in. It's been a while since I've seen Jeremiah in the mornings. He's so much more handsome when he hasn't looked in the mirror, or left the house, or when his eyes are barely open.

His smile is small, comforting and it takes a lot of willpower not to let myself return the gesture. Instead I try to form the words that have been haunting me all night. What we did the night before– what I did. I need him to know that–