Forever and Always
by alicedances
A Twilight fanfiction story written for LadyLawyer.
Thank you so much for supporting the very first Fandom Gives Back auction!
Peering into the mirror, Bella fingered the part in her dark hair, scrunching up her nose in disdain at the smattering of silver roots appearing beneath the dye. Time for another touch-up, obviously.
The ridiculousness of the situation struck her, and not for the first time. Bella had never been particularly girly or overly concerned with her appearance. So if you'd told her at 18 that she'd ever be vain enough to try to cover grey hair, she'd have laughed in your face.
It was amazing how things changed once the evidence of aging began to actually materialize. One would think she'd have things in better perspective after her cancer scare the previous year, and generally speaking, she did. But she still liked her hair better sans silver streaks.
Edward, however, made his sugar-and-cinnamon hair (it wasn't nearly dark enough to be considered pepper, and salt didn't go well with the sweeter spice, so she'd gotten creative) look distinguished. His crows' feet simply made his gorgeous green eyes seem more mischievous; the lines around his mouth made his grin more rakishly cooked.
Bella felt the same lines on her own face just made her look old and tired. It was completely unfair that Edward was even more handsome at almost 60 than he'd been at almost 16.
Tearing her gaze away from her offensive reflection with a shake of her head, Bella crossed the bedroom to her closet. She kicked a foot stool into place, and climbed up so she could reach the top shelf. Carefully, she pulled down a large, flat box, and stepped back off the stool, nearly losing her balance.
It was reassuring to know that some things, like her legendary lack of coordination, never changed, no matter how much time passed.
She sat cross-legged on the bed and lifted the lid from the gift box, then folded back the tissue paper to reveal the book inside. Carefully, she lifted it out and set it on top of the comforter.
As the date of their anniversary had approached, Bella had been wracking her brain to come up with the perfect gift for her husband. He'd never been into material presents, but she'd wanted to do something special to mark this eventful date. So, despite her complete and utter lack of artistic talent, she'd decided to put together a scrap book to document their years together.
And oh, dear god, it had been so much more work than she'd anticipated. It was worth it, though, because she was sure Edward would love it. She just had one more piece to add, and then it would be finished.
Opening to the first page of photos, she smiled down at their high school selves
Edward had been completely dorky and adorable at 15. Poor Bella hadn't stood a chance from the first moment he'd smiled at her.
If Bella had known dropping PE for Art would result in having to swap math classes, maybe she'd have reconsidered.
Oh, hell, who was she kidding? She'd do pretty much anything short of murder to get out of gym class.
It wasn't like she'd grown particularly attached to the kids in her original math class, but to have to be the Class New Girl three weeks into the semester, really sucked. And that fact was driven home when she opened the door to her new classroom and every head in the room turned to look at her. With an uncomfortable smile for the teacher, she handed him her transfer form.
"Welcome, Miss Swan," Mr. Sharpe murmured as he signed her paper. "You can take a seat next to Mr. Masen, over there."
Bella glanced in the general direction of the students, and spotted the only empty desk in the room. She headed for it, and slid into the seat as quickly as possible, casting only a cursory glance at the boy with the reddish-brown hair who sat next to her, assuming he was Masen.
"Hi."
The word came softly from her right, and Bella turned towards the speaker. Lovely green eyes accompanied the mess of reddish hair she'd noted seconds before. The face they belonged with was open and friendly… and very, very attractive. She had to force herself to blink.
"I'm Edward Masen."
Bella blinked again. His voice matched his face – sweet and easy on the ears. "Uh… hi. Bella. Swan. Hi."
Embarrassed by her stammering, she began rummaging through her bag in an attempt to hide her now-flaming cheeks with her curtain of hair.
"Nice to meet you, Bella Swan." She could hear the smile in his voice, and dared a sideways glance at him… and instantly wished she hadn't. If she'd thought he was cute before? Well, damn. The grin nearly killed her.
"You too," she admitted, feeling her lips twitch upward in an answering smile. His face brightened noticeably in response, and all Bella could think was that transferring math classes could very possibly be the smartest thing she'd ever done.
They'd become fast friends after that first meeting, talking and joking in class – and occasionally getting in trouble together as a result. After a few months of the buddy-buddy behavior, Bella had given up any hope she might have been (secretly) harboring that he was interested in her as anything other than just a friend. It depressed her, but she was realistic enough to realize that the odds definitely hadn't been in her favor. But then, out of the blue, he surprised the hell out of her.
Bella eyed Edward as they walked towards the parking lot together. He was acting strange today. Well, stranger than usual. He almost seemed… nervous? That couldn't be right. What could he possibly have to be nervous about?
But as he ran a hand through his unruly mop of hair, a definite tell of his for when he was nervous or uncomfortable, she realized that she was dead on.
"What's eating you?" she wondered aloud, and tried hard not to laugh when he looked at her with wide, surprised eyes.
"What - whaddya mean?"
With a sigh, Bella rolled her eyes. "You're being all… twitchy and Stressed Edward-y, and I want to know why."
He simply looked at her for a long moment, seemingly surprised that she'd picked up on it. What, did he honestly think she didn't notice stuff like that? Really, they only hung out every day. All in all, Bella felt that she knew Edward pretty well, now.
He swallowed hard, and Bella watched his Adam's apple bob in his throat in mild fascination.
"I… shit." Up came the hand again, through the hair, and down to slap again his thigh. "I want to ask you something, okay? And I don't know what you're gonna say."
"Well, duh, Edward. You're not a mind reader." She rolled her eyes again. "Just ask. That's the only way you'll find out."
Muttering something under his breath that she didn't catch, Edward once again attacked his hair. It looked like he was mustering up his courage for something.
Crap. This must be big. And bad.
"-bonfirepartynextweekend."
Bella shook her head slightly, having only caught the tail end of what he'd forced out in a rush of strung-together words. "Sorry, you need to run that by me again. And this time, maybe say it slow enough that I can actually understand you." She softened the words with a half smile.
Closing his eyes, Edward took a deep breath, held it, then let it out before opening his eyes again and locking his gaze with hers. "Will you go with me to the big bon fire party next weekend?"
About to answer with a standard, 'sure', she hesitated and thought more carefully about how he'd phrased the question. That, combined with his nerves, made her rethink the meaning of the request.
Oh. Oh! Was he…? Oh my god, he was…
"Are you asking me on a date?" Bella blurted out, disbelief coloring her tone.
"Um…," Edward ducked his head and watched as he scuffed the toe of his sneaker against the asphalt, "that depends on what your answer would be."
God, he was so cute it hurt sometimes.
"And if I was gonna say 'yes'?"
His head snapped up, bangs flopping in his eyes. The smile that was spreading over his face made her stomach clench. "Then… yeah, I'm asking you to go on a date." His smile widened as he clarified, "With me. To the bonfire party."
It was impossible to keep from grinning as she nodded, looking up at him with sudden shyness. "I'd really like that."
Now, Edward was positively beaming, and it was one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen.
That night, in the dancing shadows cast by the bonfire, they'd shared their first kiss. It was one of her most treasured memories.
Carefully, Bella turned the page, amazed as always by how young and carefree they'd been as teenagers. Their official prom portrait never failed to make her laugh – they'd looked so ridiculous, the two of them. Oh, very trendy for the times, but oh so very tragic by current accounts.
The photos tracked their transition from high school graduation to their first year at college: their dorm rooms, Edward's beer bottle collection, the bong Bella had kept hidden in her closet, the friends they'd made – Alice and Jasper, Emmett and Rosalie, Angela and Ben – and who'd became permanent and much-loved fixtures in their lives.
There was a picture from Christmas morning of freshman year, and there was no way to keep from laughing at the memory. It was probably one of the simultaneously sweet and cheesy things Edward had ever done for her.
"Bella, sweetie, will you please get the door? I can't step away from the stove, and I don't know where your father's hiding." Bella sighed grandly at her mother's request, and hefted herself out of the overstuffed chair in which she'd been curled up, reading one of the books she'd unwrapped not half an hour ago.
The doorbell sounded a second time, and Bella huffed in annoyance. "I'm coming," she hollered, hoping their early-morning visitor would pick up on her tone. "Jeez."
Flinging the door open, she was just about to give the person standing on the stoop a piece of her mind, when she realized what she was seeing.
"Santa?" she questioned dryly with a quirk of her eyebrow. The green eyes looking back at her betrayed the true identity of the red-suited man.
"Ho, ho, ho, merry Christmas!" Santaward boomed, and Bella couldn't help but laugh.
"You're ridiculous."
He narrowed his eyes at her slightly. "Better be careful, young lady. Naughty girls don't get any presents from Santa."
Leaning in closer towards him, Bella smirked and whispered, "But I happen to know that Santa likes it when I'm naughty."
Just as she'd hoped, Santaward sputtered for a moment, his cheeks turning bright red beneath the fake, white beard. He recovered far more quickly than she'd expected, though, which left her just a little disappointed. Clearly, she hadn't been trying hard enough.
"Now, let me see," Edward continued after clearing his throat. He reached into the sack she hadn't noticed he was carrying, and pulled out a sheet of paper. "I'm looking for… Isabella Swan."
Now it was her turn to narrow her eyes. "Nope, wrong house. There's nobody by the name of Isabella who lives here."
"Bella," her mother both chastised and correctly gently from somewhere behind her.
Santaward chuckled. "I'm very sorry. Bella Swan, then."
Deciding to play along, Bella smiled sweetly. "That's me."
"Oh! Well, then, you must've been a very good girl this year, Bella, because I have a special present for you."
Before she knew what was happening, Santaward was down on one knee, a small box held out to her in a gloved hand that trembled very slightly. Her own hands shaking, she took the box and opened it. Inside was a delicate gold band with a small diamond cradled in the centre. She tried to speak, but nothing but a choked squeak came out. She looked to Edward for confirmation of what she thought was going on.
"I'll love you forever, Bella. Will you marry me?"
Instead of saying anything, Bella launched herself at Edward, sending them both sprawling backwards, out the front door and onto the porch. He wrapped his arms around her waist as they landed with thud.
Yanking down the fake beard, Bella clasped her hands on either side of his face and rained kisses down on every inch of skin she could reach. He tried kissing her back, but eventually gave up and just laughed. She was so preoccupied that she didn't even notice the flashbulb going off from behind them.
"Is that a yes?"
"Yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes." She punctuated each word with another kiss.
The next page held one of her favorite photos ever of the two of them. He was gorgeous as always, and even Bella had to admit she'd been a beautiful bride. Her wedding gown had been simple and rather old-fashioned, Edward's suit to match. The moment frozen on the page showed her pretending to smack him with her bouquet of wildflowers as they both laughed happily, no doubt over some inappropriate joke cracked by the groom. They were obviously drunk on love and each other, and Bella felt her eyes burning with happy tears.
Sometimes it seemed like just yesterday they'd said their vows in front of their family and friends; in others, a lifetime ago. The reality was that the coming weekend would mark the 40th anniversary of that special day.
The next several pages displayed various photos leading up to their college graduation, and then the unexpected addition to their little family.
Unexpected, yes. Unplanned, definitely. But never, ever unwanted.
How could she have not noticed? That's what boggled Bella's mind. How could she have not noticed that she was more than two weeks late? Her period had always been regular as clockwork, so for her to suddenly be so late…
Well, there was one obvious reason for that, and hopefully the doctor would be able to confirm or deny that. Soon.
Her biggest dilemma at the moment, however, was whether or not she should tell Edward. What with his new job, he didn't need any added stress. So should she bother him with it before she knew for sure one way or the other?
It wasn't as though they'd never discussed having a family. It was something they both wanted, very much, but not for a while. Edward wanted to go back to school and get his MBA, and Bella hated her job as a secretary. She desperately wanted to go back to college and get her teaching accreditation. If she was pregnant, their plans would have to be put on hold, maybe indefinitely.
"Hey, beautiful." Edward's voice startled her as he shut the apartment door behind him. Entering their small living room, he dropped onto the couch beside her. He leaned in to give her a kiss, and she kissed him back stiffly – which he immediately noticed. "Bella? What's wrong?"
She shook her head, prepared to deny anything was wrong, but apparently her mouth had other ideas. "I think I'm pregnant," she blurted, wide-eyed and scared.
Edward blinked at her in silence for a moment, before lifting his hand to cradle her cheek. "Can you try that again? I thought I heard you say you think you're –"
"Pregnant. I do. Think I am, I mean. I think I'm pregnant."
Again, he said nothing for what seemed an eternity, and Bella's eyes burned with tears as she looked down at her lap. She couldn't stand to see the disappointment – or worse, anger – in his eyes. "I'm sorry," she croaked, swallowing hard as the tears began to fall. "I'm sorry, I don't know how –"
The hand not cupping her face drifted across her stomach. "We're having a baby?" His voice was soft and gentle, and Bella risked meeting his eyes once more. What she saw there made the tears fall harder. He was smiling, his own eyes glassy from unshed tears. Her hand drifted down to cover his, so that they caressed her belly together.
"I think so," she admitted in a choked whisper. And the next thing he knew, she was swept into his arms and nearly crushed against his chest as he peppered her hair with kisses.
"Love you," he murmured. "Love you so much. God, a baby. Our baby. Oh, Bella… I promise to be the best father ever…"
And for the first time since suspecting she was pregnant, Bella allowed herself to feel something other than guilt, or worry, or dread. She felt overcome with joy.
Their baby…
A picture of young Bella and Edward with a tiny bundle wrapped in a pink blanket, then another photo with them and a grinning toddler, her long, light brown pigtails brushing the ground as her father dangled her upside down. From her very first breath, Elizabeth was Edward's little princess. It was a bond that had never broken. Even now – Beth was grown and married and with children of her own, but she was still Daddy's Little Girl.
The next page held a picture of Edward and a five-year-old version of his now-grown Mini-Me, Charles. There was no mistaking them for anything but father and son – the same green eyes, the same unruly hair, even the same cheeky smile. Charlie had his father's charm and temperament, as well. They always said you had the most strained relationship with the child most like you, so she supposed that explained why Edward and Charles had always butted heads.
Where Elizabeth had always been an easy child, Charlie was her opposite in every way. Beth was calm and quiet, preferring to spend her time reading, perfectly content to be left to her own devices for hours upon hours. Charlie, on the other hand, was always getting into trouble and constantly demanded attention. For years , neither Bella nor Edward could understand his behavior. They tried everything to help him, but nothing seemed to work. He got in trouble at school, with the other kids in the neighborhood, at home… His antics became a serious strain on their marriage. When Charlie was eventually diagnosed with ADD, Edward took it particularly hard, admonishing himself for not being a better parent, for not seeing Charlie's behavioral issues for what they, in hindsight, obviously were.
Pages held precious memories of their children's pasts, following them from childhood to young adulthood. Bella paused again on a picture of her daughter's wedding.
Following in her parents' footsteps, Beth had married her high school sweetheart, a wonderful young man by the name of Ian. They couldn't have asked for a better husband for Beth, or a better father for their grandsons. He was caring, smart, kind, and loved his family with a fierce devotion. Which was why it broke Bella's heart to think that Beth and Ian likely wouldn't reach the same milestone she and Edward would be marking. Ian had been diabetic most of his life, and had begun developing increasingly severe complications over the past few years, including an infection that had resulted in the amputation of this left foot.
The long-term prognosis wasn't good.
But Beth stayed strong for her boys, only letting herself break down when alone with her parents. It nearly killed Edward that he couldn't do anything to fix things for his little girl, and Bella, in turn, had to be strong for him when he'd break down after one of Beth's more emotionally-charged visits.
The boys' pictures followed: Alexander and Christopher. Edward lived for those boys, and Bella could swear his heart melted a little bit every time one of their grandsons called him 'Pop'. They were good boys. Not perfect, no, but still good boys. Beth and Ian were incredible parents, and did a wonderful job with their children. Bella couldn't have been more proud.
Bella paused on yet another wedding photo, this one of Charles and Natalie. The adoration in his eyes as he smiled at his bride reminded her so much of the way Edward had always – and still did – looked at her that it caused a lump to form in her throat. For all his problems, all his issues, Charlie was a good man with a wonderful heart, and he loved his wife with everything he had. He'd had an excellent role model in that regard, no matter that Edward would claim otherwise.
"Sweet dreams, Bethie," Bella murmured as she brushed her little girl's bangs off her forehead and pressed a kiss to the smooth skin.
Little girl? That was a laugh. Elizabeth was almost 11, and was nearly as tall as Bella already. She was a true blend of both her parents – her hair was a shade darker than Edward's, now, and boasted his height and lanky build, whereas her brown eyes and pale skin were all Bella's. It was a beautiful combination, and Edward had confessed on more than one occasion to wanting Beth kept locked up until she turned 30, just to keep away the hoards of boys he knew would soon be descending.
"Is Daddy going to be able to come to my recital tomorrow night?" Beth's small, quiet voice broke Bella's heart.
"He's going to try his hardest, sweetie. He always does, you know that."
Nodding, Beth rolled over and pulled the covers up over her shoulders. "Sometimes it's not good enough to just 'try'," she murmured so softly that Bella couldn't be sure she'd really heard it.
With a soft sigh, Bella left her daughter's room, closing the door most of the way behind her before moving down the hall to the next room. She knocked softly before entering the room, not quite sure of what she'd find on the other side.
Charlie lay on his bed, tossing a baseball up towards the ceiling before catching it again in his glove. Lather, rinse, repeat. "Hey," Bella greeted with a gentle smile. "It's bedtime, you know that. Stow the ball and glove for the night."
Grudgingly, he sat up and tossed his glove and baseball into a basket of toys near the closet. He looked completely dejected, and Bella knew exactly why. And no matter how much she would have preferred to leave it alone, she couldn't pretend nothing had happened.
"What's up, buddy?" she asked, perching on the bed next to him and wrapping an arm around his skinny shoulders. "You still mad?"
The only reply was a nod of his messy little head.
"You know he wanted to be there –"
"No he didn't," Charlie snapped, startling Bella with the anger in his voice. "If he really wanted to, he'd just do it. He never comes. Ever."
It was the truth, no matter how much Bella wished she could deny it. Edward had made only one of Charlie's Little League games since he started playing the year before. At first, Charlie remained hopeful that his father would make each game, but eventually, after months of disappointment, he simply became resigned. Now, that seemed to have turned to anger.
"Is that why you pushed that other boy after the game?" she asked carefully. They'd been broken up before the scuffle could turn into anything more than a shoving match, but she had a bad feeling that it could have escalated in a hurry. "You were mad at Daddy?"
Instead of answering directly, Charlie turned his face towards his mother and buried himself into her side. "Everybody's fathers' are there except mine," he whimpered, voice muffled by Bella's shirt. She stroked her baby boy's hair and hugged him. "Max told me his dad was taking him out for ice cream after the game, and told me I couldn't go because I don't have a dad."
Bella bristled and immediately wanted to rush off to find the little monster who'd tormented her son so badly. "That's a lie and you know it," she stated firmly. "You have a dad, and he loves you very, very much. That's why he works so hard – so he can take care of us. Okay? Don't ever forget that. Your daddy loves you and Beth more than anything."
And even though that was the truth, she knew it wasn't easy for her children to see or to understand.
After finally calming Charlie down, Bella got him put to bed, and he was asleep almost instantly. Exhausted, she trudged downstairs to the living room, looking forward to losing herself in TV land until her husband came home...
Whenever that might be.
Since shortly after Charlie's birth, Edward had been working himself half to death, trying to climb the corporate ladder in an effort to provide a better life for his family. He was doing extremely well and was considered somewhat of a whiz-kid, having earned the title of VP before he'd turned 30. So, financially, they were doing well.
The personal sacrifices, though, were great.
The long hours expected of Edward took their toll on everyone: Bella was alone so often that she sometimes felt like a single parent; for years, Beth had cried every night that Edward wasn't home to tuck her into bed (that had only stopped around her 10th birthday); and Charlie knew his father as the man who was sometimes home on weekends, and never made it to his baseball games.
It was no way to raise a family. For any of them.
Bella heard the key scraping in the door lock sometime nearing midnight, and felt a surge of anger.
"This has got to stop, Edward," she said softly, in lieu of a more traditional greeting. He peered into the living from the foyer, his brow furrowed.
"I'm sorry?"
Whether he was asking her to repeat herself or apologizing, she wasn't entirely sure.
"Beth was asking if you were going to be at her recital tomorrow night," Bella began, and she felt a sense of vindication at Edward's flinch. "And Charlie almost got into a fight after his game. Do you know why?" She didn't give him a chance to answer. "Because another little boy on the team accused Charlie of not having a father."
It was almost amusing watching the guilt and fury war on Edward's face. Almost.
"The kids are starting to expect you to disappoint them," Bella continued, needing to say these things before she lost her nerve. "Is that what you want, Edward? For our kids to not even know you?"
He swallowed forcefully, and shook his head. "Bella, I'm doing the best that I can, you know that -"
"No," she cut in. "You're doing the best you can for your career. Oh, you're a fantastic provider. We have a nice house, new cars... but you're not a father anymore." They stared at each other for a long moment before Bella added, very softly, "And barely a husband."
Before her very eyes, Edward quite literally crumbled. His long legs gave out and he sank to the floor, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes has his body shook with what Bella could only assume were silent sobs. It killed her not to run to him, to comfort him, but she stood her ground.
It was one of the most difficult things she'd ever done.
"I'm sorry," he gasped. "I'm so sorry. I'm trying so hard, Bella. So hard. I love you and the kids so much, and I just want to give you the best life I can -" He trailed off into a sob, and Bella broke.
Crossing the room, she knelt beside him and stroked his hair, much like she had their son a few hours earlier. "I know," she admitted. "But none of this stuff is worth anything without you." Her own tears started falling, and she wrapped her arms around him and nestled her face into his neck; Edward turned and clung to her. "We need you. I don't care if we have to drive a beat-up car, or if we can't go on an expensive family vacation. Neither do the kids. All we want is you."
They continued to hold each other, both still crying.
"I'm so afraid of failing you," he whispered. "All of you. I try so hard -"
"Stop," Bella pleaded, squeezing him tightly. "Stop trying so hard. It's too much. Too much for you, too much for us. We can't keep doing this."
"I know," Edward confessed."I just don't know what to do."
"Quit," she stated simply, before she could even think about it.
Edward scoffed. "I wish it were that easy."
"Why can't it be?" Pulling back slightly, Bella caught his eyes. "Quit. I'm serious. We have savings, I'll keep working, we'll be okay. Just... go back to school so you can do something you really love."
Much to her surprise, he seemed to be considering it.
"Think about it," Bella encouraged. "That's all I ask. Just think about it. If going back to school isn't what you want, then figure out what is, and we'll make it happen. Okay?"
His kiss was sweet and adoring. God, how she'd missed him. "Okay."
To this day, Edward blamed himself for all the problems they'd had with Charlie. He's convinced that if he'd been home more during Charlie's formative years, if he'd been a better father, they'd have been able to see the signs sooner, and get him the help he'd obviously needed. It didn't matter how many times Bella pointed out that they'd both missed it, he shouldered the blame alone.
The rest of the book was filled with more pictures: family and friends, some of them now little more than fond memories, some of them still very much present in their lives; birthdays and holidays; vacations, trips to the zoo and the beach, and anything else Bella had been able to find.
Mostly, she was pleased with her gift for Edward. But there was one piece missing, and it would be too personal to include in the book.
Setting the scrap book aside, Bella reached into the box again and withdrew several sheets of writing paper and a pen, and set to work.
Edward,
I've been trying, for weeks, now, to plan what I would write in this letter, but I've given up. There's too much to say, and if I try to sort it out beforehand, I'll get overwhelmed and put it off until I eventually panic because I've run out of time.
And this is too important for that.
That said, I apologize in advance for the likely stream-of-consciousness style. If you get confused… just consider the source.
So I think the best place to start is at the beginning…
If someone had told me, back on that first day of math class, that I'd end up married to you, I would've laughed in their face. Not because the idea of it was offensive, but how many people can claim they met the love of their life when they were barely 16? (Besides Bethie, I mean.)
I don't know if you realize just how much I was drawn to you from the very beginning. You told me once that I'd said something – god only knows what – to make you think I didn't like you 'like that'. I have no clue what that could've been, because I did like you 'like that'. A lot. And the day you asked me out, I went home and screamed into my pillow because I was so happy and so excited, and you made me act like a stupid teenage girl for possibly the first time ever.
And you know what? You never stopped making me feel like a giddy 16-year-old. I still get weak in the knees when you give me my favorite smile, and the rest of the world still fades away when you kiss me.
I probably shouldn't admit to that, though. Can't have that ego of yours getting any bigger.
Oh well, too late now. I'll just have to deal with the consequences later.
It just seemed so natural, the way we were together, all along. We were so lucky to have found each other, and so blessed.
I wish I could say that it had been all sunshine and rainbows, but we both know that it wasn't. Hindsight makes it easy to gloss over the details, to only remember the good or the bad, but not much of the in-between. While we had a lot of the latter, I think it's safe to say we've probably had more good times than most couples who've been through everything we have, and I treasure every one of them.
But we had our share of problems, as I'm sure you remember. But despite that, we came through it all united. We have each other, we have our children, and we have our children's families.
Edward, I know you've held on to a lot of guilt over the years, blamed yourself for so much, especially where Charlie's concerned. I've said it a million times, and you never seemed to hear it, so I'll try it again, here, and hope that maybe this time I'll get through to you: It's not your fault. I promise you, Edward, it's not. I honestly believe that Charlie's become the man he is today, in spite of his problems, because of you, not in spite of. You were the best role model for him. Just look at how he is with Natalie. He learned that level of respect, how to be so demonstrative with his love, from you. No-one else. So you should be proud of yourself... and proud of him, for doing the best he can.
I know I am - proud. Of the both of you.
We allowed ourselves to drift apart, more than once, over the years. Our lives just got so busy that we forgot to leave time for us to be... well, us. But we always found our way back to each other, and while our focus may have shifted, our love never wavered. Not once.
I need you to know that I wouldn't change a single thing about our life together. Everything, the good and the bad, has made us who we are today. No, things haven't been perfect, but they've been perfect for us.
You're my life, my love, my best friend and soul-mate. I love you, Edward, with all my heart. I always have, and always will.
Yours, forever and always,
Bella
Setting down the pen, Bella re-read the letter. It was so hard to put all her thoughts and feelings down on paper, but she knew it was something Edward would treasure far more than anything she could have bought at a store.
Finally satisfied that she hadn't omitted anything important, she folded the papers and slipped them into an envelope, which she then placed on the cover of the scrapbook. Bella wrapped it all in the protective tissue paper, and slid the lid back in place. She spent several minutes carefully wrapping the box – no chance of peeking now, if he went snooping and found it – before returning it to its safe place in the closet.
A part of her could barely wait for Saturday, so she could present Edward with this gift. But another part wanted to be able to hold onto it for a little while longer, to keep it personal and private, before unveiling it to everyone. It was inevitable, she knew, but still.
"Bella?"
The sound of his voice from downstairs brought a smile to her face, as always. "I'll be down in a sec," she called back as she shut the closet door. Before she could get very far, she heard his heavy tread on the stairs as he climbed them quickly. He appeared in front of her so quickly she almost though he was an optical illusion. But that familiar, beloved Edward smell enveloped her, and she knew he was really there.
"Hey, beautiful," he murmured, brushing a sweet kiss across her lips. On his second pass, he tickled her lips with the tip of his tongue before deepening it some more. After a few breathless moments, he finally pulled back, a pleased smirk gracing his face.
"Hey yourself," Bella replied breathily. "What's with the greeting? Miss me, or something?"
"Always," he assured her with another kiss. He pulled back and waggled his eyebrows slightly. "Was it mutual?"
"Hmmm," she pretended to think about it, "I don't know. Maybe a little..."
"A little?" Edward feigned offense. "A little? Woman, there's nothing little about me."
With a burst of laughter, Bella shoved him backward and took a step away from him. "Clearly your ego isn't."
"You love my ego," he countered with a grin.
"I love everything about you," she replied with an adoring smile. "And you're damn lucky I do."
"I know," he replied seriously. "Luckiest man alive. And I remind myself of that every day."
Reaching up, Bella dragged her nails through the still-thick hair at Edward's temples, and nodded. "We're both lucky." She placed a gentle kiss on his lips, her words barely more than a puff of air as she told him, "I love you."
"I'll love you forever," Edward told her for what had to be the thousandth time. And she knew she'd never, ever grow tired of hearing it.