She was tired.

She opened her eyes that morning thinking only that: she was very, very tired. She rose from the bed, feeling awake for the first time in a long while, with a bone-deep exhaustion that could only be cured by moving, breathing, living.

So many things had happened, so many events that changed her life. Graduation. College. Marriage. Back when he was still alive, her father had said that change was good, and at the time she never really thought much of it. To her, change was just change. It wasn't good or bad, just... different.

But now she finally understood what he meant. She'd been frozen for far too long, paralyzed by the past, and that was bad. She needed change. Change was good.

She walked to the bedroom window and stood next to her reading chair, the one she'd had since her teenage years. Sunlight filtered through the glass window, warm and sweet. She'd been strangely afraid of sunlight before — the way a person feared happiness because it can never be hers — but now she basked in it, enjoyed its glow. It can be hers, she thought with a small smile. She just had to let go.

Let go, Bella. Let me go.

His voice echoed in her mind, the way it always did for years in her dreams and waking hours. But unlike before — when his voice only pierced her heart and filled her with dread — it now filled her with hope. She had to move on. She had to let go of the old pain to hold on to love. She understood that now. His voice wasn't there in her mind to haunt her — it was there to guide her, to help her step into a happy life without him.

Let go, Bella. Please, just let me go.

I will, she thought, her heart strangely at peace. I will.

It was a beautiful time — the streets shone under the bright sunlight, the snow shimmered like a sheet of white-blue glitter, and the sky was painted with the yellow of dandelions. Bella didn't know what made her decide what she had decided that morning. Perhaps it was the sheer beauty of the moment, or maybe it was the frosty wind that rushed through the slight opening of the window and brushed her cheeks, reminding her of a cold touch she had so wanted to both forget and remember. Or maybe it was the way her bedroom window whispered the way it sometimes did at night because she never really completely closed it — because every night she'd left it an inch open, hoping for... well, she didn't really know what she'd been hoping for, she just knew that she'd been clinging to that hope for so long, and now she had to move on.

She opened the window wide open, looked at the sky and the snow and the streets, felt a cold winter morning breeze caress her cheeks, and the decision was made.

She breathed in, smiled, and breathed out.

Goodbye, Edward.

"Bella?" a man's voice asked, his voice heavy with sleep. "What are you doing?"

She gazed at her bed and at her husband, her eyes bright. "I'm just breathing in the fresh air. It's nice outside."

He laughed. "Nice? It's a winter wonderland out there. Are you planning on freezing to death?"

She laughed back. "Well, since I have a heater for a husband..."

"Come here, you," he flipped the sheets and made room for her on the bed. "And I'll show you just how much heating this heater can do."

She smiled. Shook her head. "I'm sick of staying in bed. Besides, I could use some fresh air."

His face became serious. He sat up. "Are you still waiting for...?" He trailed off.

Her heart skipped a beat. She hated the pain in his expression, hated the ache that diminished the sparkle of his eyes. No more of that, she thought to herself. She won't have him feeling that way because of her.

"No," she said with a small smile, realizing that it's true. "Not anymore. Haven't been waiting in a while, actually. I'm sorry it took me a eons to realize that."

"Eons, huh? I don't think it took nearly that long," he rose from the bed and embraced her, planted a kiss on her forehead. "Not that it would matter. You're worth waiting a billion years for. You're my forever."

She blushed. "I'm nobody's forever."

He pulled away, looked into her eyes and grinned. "Then I guess my name's Nobody now."

She rested her head on his chest, heard his heartbeat. Each strong, sturdy beat relaxed her. "I think it's too good to be true, you know? Like I'm having this perfect life and it's only a matter of time before things fall apart. I hate feeling this way."

He sighed. "I know," his tone was only resigned. "You hold on to him for that, right? Because if you hold on to him, then you won't really feel like you're part of this."

She nodded, speechless. He knew. Was that why he never asked questions? Never doubted her love for him when she was leaving the window an inch open every night? Never hated her for holding on to the past?

"You're scared," he continued, "That if you're fully in this, in us, you'll risk losing more of yourself. Risk losing more than what you lost when he left you."

She couldn't help but ask, "How did you...?"

He held her at an arm's length and made her meet his eyes. "I love you, Bella. I love the hell out of you. That means I look at you, watch you, see your insecurities and hopes and fears, and love you all the more for them." He wiped the tear that rolled down her cheek. "I love you when you're strong," he kissed her lips chastely. "I love you when you're weak," he planted butterfly kisses down her chin. "I know you, Bella. I know you, and I love you. I'm not asking you to understand, but there it is."

She couldn't stop the tears from falling down like a waterfall. "I'm sorry I took so long. I'm sorry you had to wait."

He kissed her nose in a gentle, intimate gesture. "I'm not. I can never be sorry for waiting for the love of my life."

She shook her head. "But all those years... All that time you wasted on waiting... It must've killed you inside. What if I never... What if it took me much longer?"

He rolled his eyes and wiped more of her tears, kissed her cheeks. "Give me some credit. I knew what I was signing up for. I didn't exactly get into this blindfolded. You warned me a million times, remember? About him. About how you still weren't really over him. Besides, I don't regret any second of the wait."

She cried while he spoke, while his simpleminded words of love broke away the last remaining barriers of her heart. And when the tears stopped, she knew there was only one thing to say. It was the truth, and it had been the truth for so long she didn't know why she never said it before. "I love you."

He stilled, surprise evident on his face. They've dated, gotten engaged and married, and through it all she never once said she loved him. Cared for him, yes, but never loved him.

Then he gave her a slow smile. He'd known that she loved him, she always said it with her actions if not her words. She hadn't been ready to say it before, and he knew that. He understood her the way even she didn't understand herself. Leaving the window open was her defense mechanism, an illusion of an escape, similar to when she rode a dirt bike before to escape the fact that she was heartbroken. So he waited for her to be ready. He waited for her, and she was pretty damn worth the wait.

His smile became a full grin. "Of course you love me, Bells. Everybody does."

And when they closed that window, they did it together, knowing it would remain closed forever.