Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.

Beta'd by HollettLA.

For Cara

Bold Gestures

Chapter Twenty

Bella POV

Unfortunately, things didn't go over as smoothly with Franny as Edward hoped.

Marie seemed just fine with us being together. She blushes whenever Edward touches me, and I think that's cute. Marie adores Little Carlo, too. She keeps him busy whenever she visits, and he loves his Marie. They're adorable.

That Sunday, a few weeks ago, when Edward went to pick up Franny, my old best friend was privy to the punch already. Franny refused to get in the car with Edward.

Such is life, I guess.

Surprisingly, though, my mother wasn't as upset as I thought she'd be.

Mom knew I was pregnant before I'd said anything, and I wasn't bloated, showing yet, nothing. She noticed as soon as she'd arrived. Apparently, I looked different, but I really didn't, and "mothers just know." Of course, I denied it. Then, with Edward showing up, she put the pieces together.

After speaking to my father, she approached me at church the next day. I'd been lighting a candle for Aro when she pulled up outside to attend mass. Edward rarely goes to church, but he drove us—Anna, Marie, and I—and he picked me up afterward. He passes the hour by reading the paper—cover to cover, buy-lines to ads, and every article—in his car.

When we'd arrived, Marie ran off to sit with Franny and Rose. That's probably when it was all confirmed for Franny.

She didn't say a word to me about it, nor did she confront me, but I was waiting. I'd even lingered a bit, gave Marie a lengthy goodbye hug, wondering if Franny or Rose would say something.

They said nothing, ignored me.

I've never cared for Rose, and it had little to do with Edward. My parents were strict. Well, not that strict as I'd managed to get pregnant. But Rose is just ignorant, and she'd try to pass her narrow-minded views on to Franny while also sheltering the poor girl, treating her like a little girl. No wonder she ran off to Manhattan.

I bet Franny's having a wild time now. Knowing her, it's definitely within reason, though. Edward told me she bummed a smoke from him, and he got her a beer when they went out to dinner. I thought that was great of him, that he knows there's no harm in her letting loose a bit, growing up.

Despite our obvious dislike for one another, I didn't want the conflict? Marie is no stranger now, and with the new baby coming...I don't know. I thought it would be easier on Marie if we all got along? Also, being friendly with Rose might help me get my best friend back, Franny.

I know that's hard on Edward. He makes time to hang with Franny, but there is a small strain, which I hate too.

My mother was happy when she heard the news, actually. Sure, she despises Edward because what he did, but she's glad I'll be taken care of—that there won't be a scandal. Being Edward's wife will fix my reputation, too. No more judgmental stares, thank God.

She was glad Edward was doing "the right thing."

God forbid we get married because we love each other . . .

Renee's driving me bonkers, to be honest. It's a total contrast to how she used to be. Now, she's stopping by whenever she leaves the house, a lot more often than she used to. She wants to dive into wedding preparations, but Edward hasn't given me a ring just yet…

"Lazy!" Mom slapped my outer thigh.

"Oww." I rubbed it.

"Lift your legs." She tried to vacuum under the couch.

I hugged my legs to my chest. "You don't have to clean my apartment."

"Who else is going to do it?" she asked.

"It's not dirty!" I shouted.

Renee came over for lunch—so she says—but all she's done is straighten up. I could see her being bored since Little C no longer lives with her. My siblings wouldn't be out of school until three p.m.

"You want Edward to come home, take one look at this pigsty and leave?" She smacked my Time magazines down onto the coffee table.

I didn't say anything.

Maybe the place isn't spotless, but I keep a neat home, and Edward never bitches about that crap.

"He makes the money. It's your job to make a nice home for him—"

"It's nice!" I argued.

"You think he's still gonna spoil you?" she laughed. "You're expecting his child. I understand, you need your rest, but you still have your responsibilities. You're getting married—"

I groaned, lighting a cigarette, and then Mom tore it from my mouth. "Hey!"

My mother put it out in the tray. "You know I dislike that."

I sat back. "Can you leave? I promise to clean."

She mumbled things under her breath as she moved on to the bathroom.

"I'm pregnant. Not sick!" I shouted.

She gasped. "Watch your filthy mouth!"

I giggled. "I'm expecting, not dying…I can clean." I straighten up every day. The apartment is clean. I just hadn't planned on doing that today.

"Keep it down. You'll wake the baby."

I pursed my lips, slowly trailing back to the ashtray.

"Don't even think about it." She caught me. "He'll probably be home for lunch soon. Make yourself presentable."

I plucked my nightshirt. "He—"

"He'll like something pretty to look at while he eats." She shook her head at me. "Take that thing off your head!" She tore my rag away.

I touched my hair.

"You're not cleaning. You're sitting around. Go brush it, put on some rouge and a nice dress, and get in that kitchen!" She pointed.

"He's doesn't—"

"He cares." She nodded. "Trust me. The novelty is over. He's got you—hook, line, and sinker. You need to do other things to keep him coming home. Rose kept a nice house. Rose—"

"He didn't love her!" I stiffened.

"Love…that's cute," she giggled. "Get!" Mom pointed to my bedroom and then to the kitchen. "Or get to cooking!"

I smirked. "Edward likes to have me—" I pointed to myself "—when he's home for lunch. It doesn't matter what I'm wearing since he'll take it off of me."

She grimaced. "You're—"

"Doesn't matter." I lit my cigarette and leaned away when she reached. "He still wants me even if I'm expecting…and if he wants the place spic and span, he can pick up a broom!" I ranted. "You drive me crazy, Ma!"

"You better not talk to him like that. He might discipline you." Renee sat next to me. "Honey, you know nothing about marriage. Maybe he's all those things now—"

I blew my smoke into the air. "He's not allowed to have a goomarra."

She laughed at me. "Not allowed." Renee snatched my cigarette and put it out again. "If he wants one, he'll get one."

"Then, I'll divorce him..." I shrugged, and when she laughed again, it angered me. It got under my skin, and I felt I might explode. "Or, I'll chop his cock off!"

Mom gasped, composed herself quickly. "Watch your mouth!"

I gnashed my teeth together, my body stiffening again. "You know, if he ever did such a thing, most mothers would offer me the edged tool I'd use to castrate him! What's wrong with you?!"

She rolled her eyes at me. "Stop with the theatrics and the attitude, Isabella. Go fix lunch. Little C will be awake soon."

Just to get her off my back, I rushed into the kitchen to make something. Renee doesn't know Edward. She doesn't know that he'd rather eat me than salami.

I'm his lunchbox.

God. If I told her that, she might try to wash my mouth out with soap.

After making a couple of sandwiches, I grabbed two jars of baby food.

"You know where Rose went wrong?" She fiddled with the percolator, making coffee. "She nagged him. You don't wanna make it a habit—nagging your husband."

"Is that why you're nagging me?" I laughed. "Go nag Dad."

"Isabella—" she placed her hand on mine "—I'm serious. It's your responsibility to make him happy."

"That's huge." I didn't buy it. "How can I be responsible for his happiness? Being together should make him happy, like it makes me happy. The rest of it? Edward needs to make himself happy."

"Listen to me, Bella…A good wife treats her husband like a king. You don't nag. You don't even bother him with your troubles. You listen, you lend an ear. Your troubles will seem trivial in comparison anyway." She placed a cup and saucer on the table. "What time does he come home for lunch?"

"I dunno." I thought about what she said. "Sometimes he eats lunch at the drugstore."

She did the Sign of the Cross. "Isabella…"

I shrugged. "Sometimes he's busy…Sometimes he goes to eat with the guys." I grabbed the phone. "I'll call the club—"

She stole the telephone from me. "That counts as nagging. Go change and put your face on."

I stuck my tongue out and crossed my eyes. "This face?" I pressed my nose to her cheek.

Mom smiled, palming my face. "I'm just trying to help you."

I nodded. "Thanks."

"A happy homemaker makes a happy home." She nodded. "So smile…try to be pleasing. It's your job to please him. You never shut him out of your bedroom—"

"Wait…" I shook my head. "I'm not…what I used to be. My role has changed. I'm to be his wife, not necessarily his whore…" If I didn't feel like having sex, don't I have the choice now?

"If he wants you, he's going to have you." She poured herself a cup of coffee. "It's not a big deal. He lies on top of you, and then it's over. If he has to discipline you…face powder only covers the bruises so much."

"Dad beats you?" I grabbed her hand.

"Don't be dramatic, Isabella…Your father isn't cruel, but Edward is. That man's a brute with a horrible temper."

"He is not, and he doesn't have a bad temper," I argued. "He—" Even I couldn't explain the changes in Edward as of late. I know he's different with me, in comparison to how he is with the outside world. He loves me, shows it by doting and pampering me all the time. He's sweet, but he can be pissy and really rude sometimes. I don't know.

"Rosalie's my oldest and closest friend, despite what you've done. I know." Her eyes widened. "He used to—"

"I don't wanna know," I whispered.

"You should." She stared at me. "So you know..."

I shook my head. "I don't wanna know."

"Just don't give him a reason to…You could have a good life, a nice house…you and Little Carlo will always be taken care of."

"I love him…that's why we're together," I said.

Mom was too busy staring at my kitchen floor. "The tiles look grimy. You should scrub it."

I lit a cigarette. "Edward has cartons…I can light them all day long." I held it away from my mother.

She surrendered. "Despite the women on television, it's not very ladylike."

"It's sexy—"

"Watch your mouth." She waved her fist. "Are you this outspoken with Edward?"

I smirked, blowing my smoke out. "Even more so."

Renee was appalled.

"You should hear the things I say..." I snickered. "Or...what this filthy mouth can do," I sang, blowing her a kiss.

"Fresh!" She slapped my bicep. "Isabella—"

I cut her off with a boisterous laugh. "Oh, God...you kill me." My eyes teared.

Mom shook her head and her finger at me.

We had a cup of coffee while she told me more about my duties—what's expected of me now.

My mother was correct in all aspects. I knew that already. We never used birth control before, and after this baby's born, I'll probably get knocked up again—and again, and again. Unless, we stop having sex.

I still belonged to Edward.

I still had no voice.

I still…

Thinking of that was daunting and depressing.

While I held some of the cards before, once we walk down the aisle, Edward would have the whole deck.

During the war, women came out of the kitchen. When the boys came home, Rosie forgot about her riveter to don an apron once more. It's been like that ever since. It's 1959 and things are still the same.

My job was to remain a virgin until marriage, and I didn't do that.

We're told to abstain so we don't disgrace ourselves—our families—and I'd done that.

I should feel lucky that Edward's marrying me.

Some things were better while others were worse. If I don't feel like cooking or entertaining, I can't tell Edward to go home to his wife. Now that I was to be his wife, I didn't want him going anywhere. I love him, and I want to be his everything. I don't want to give him a reason to leave.

I had to get used to actually living with Edward. The past few weeks have been fun, but we're still just making love all the time, hanging around. We go out on the nights Jake takes Little Carlo.

When my mother thought Edward would arrive at any minute, she left to beat my father home. As soon as she was out the door, I went to change my clothes. Just like she suggested, I put on a pretty dress and did my hair.

By the time I was through, Little Carlo was awake. I gave him his lunch, and then I waited for Edward to come home for his.

He never did.

Funny how I'd expected him to when I never had before. I didn't know that husbands come home for lunch. And he doesn't always come home for lunch. Still, I was upset. If coming home was a normal, husband thing to do, why hadn't he? More importantly, where did he eat lunch?

Irrational, I tried to suppress my anger and curiosity. I tried my hardest not to call the social club.

Even so, when I called, Emmett answered, and I hung up.

Then I called Rose's house to see if Edward would answer…like I used to.

No one picked up.

While Little Carlo played with his toys, I watched two soap operas. Then I tried to lose the aggression by dancing around the living room with my son—as we watched "American Bandstand."

When it was over, I realized I never got started on dinner.

Little Carlo loves The Mickey Mouse Club, and I left CBS on for him.

Gazing at the uneaten sandwich I'd made Edward, I decided to leave it.

He can have his lunch for dinner!

I said my prayers—said the rosary twice for Aro, and I prayed for patience. I hadn't gone to church since last Sunday, but I lit a candle when the sun started to set. Even though I'm not the typical mourner, I could still pray for him, and that's what I did.

Nevertheless, I made some macaroni with butter for Little Carlo and myself. After we ate, I gave him a bath and changed my clothes.

Bored, I'd decided to wash the kitchen floor. Besides a quick mop, I hadn't scrubbed it in a long while.

Little Carlo was watching Lassie when Edward finally came home. It was after seven p.m., so Edward was late for dinner, too.

I ignored him as he greeted the baby.

I scrubbed the floor harder, wanting to push his stupid mug into the mucky water!

"Why's your face all red?" Edward crouched low.

I grabbed my brush from the bucket, and I didn't bother to shake it out before I washed the floor by his feet.

Edward hopped back. "You wet my shoes!"

"Good!" I spat. "Piss on your shoes!"

"Eh!" he shouted. "You, wit' that fuckin' mouth! Watch it!" Edward warned with a raised brow.

Fuck me. He's sexy.

Still, taken aback, I smirked. "Oh, you gonna slap nicer words outta me?" I challenged but thought better. I backed down. "I'm—"

"Stop," he said. "Knock off the attitude."

"I just cleaned it and you're walking on it," I explained, my body stiffening.

Edward jumped back onto the carpet. "I'm sorry."

I didn't say anything.

"Did'ju cook?" he asked, taking off his jacket.

"Yeah." I smiled. "I made you a salami and cheese." I pointed to the counter.

He grimaced as he lifted the plate. "For supper?"

I shrugged, getting back to my floor. "You didn't come home for lunch, and I'd made that for you—for lunch. I didn't wanna waste food."

He hummed, tossing the dish away. "Did'ju eat?"

I nodded, swirling the brush around the tiles. "Why didn't you come home for lunch?"

"Was I supposed to?" He lit a cigarette. "Did we have plans?"

"Men usually come home for lunch," I said. "Did you eat at Rose's?"

He laughed. "Why the fuck would I eat there?"

"Just tell me," I whispered. "Where were you?"

"I'm so fuckin' sick of this shit!" He groaned, cringing, before he lifted a chair to slam it back down. Then Edward took three big steps toward me. "Bella—"

Fearful, I backed away, cowering near my bucket. "I'm sorry." I did not want to be "disciplined." I'd also never seen him legitimately angry with me before. Well, he just acted like he used to, and I didn't want that. "I'm sorry." I tried not to cry. "I'll cook." I rushed out, placing the brush in the bucket.

Edward furrowed his brow, holding my chin. "What's wrong wit'chu?"

I sucked my lip into my mouth, hoping my heart slowed. "Nothin'," I whispered.

"You tired? You should put the baby down and get in bed ya'self." He took a drag from his smoke. "And don't worry about where I've been. I was working today. I also don't punch a time clock. So, if I can't sneak home for lunch, I can't…" He nodded. "Stop this, Bella…stop asking me where I've been. All right?" He kissed my lips.

I slumped my shoulders, feeling defeated by his words.

"Leave this." He pushed the bucket away. "You can finish tomorrow. Go to bed."

"It's not even eight yet," I said, realization dawning on me. "Oh, you want sex?" I reached to uncover my hair.

Edward stood up to put his cigarette out in the tray. "It'd be nice…If you're tired, I get it…I gotta step out again at ten anyway."

"Ten?" I asked. "But—"

He massaged his forehead. "Yes…I came home for dinner, but…yes, I have to go back out."

I chuckled. "You came home to eat and fuck me?"

He shook his head. "I came home to have dinner with my woman. Any more than that? Just perks of being wit'chu, baby doll." Edward walked into the living room to gather Little C into his arms. "Make him a bottle." He disappeared into the back.

Confused—I didn't know if I was angrier or sadder—I filled Carlo's bottle with milk. My son can hold it himself. Putting him down only consists of changing his diaper, handing him his bottle, and shutting the light.

"Love you, baby." I kissed his cheek.

He sucked his bottle down as he pulled the covers up.

I smiled, tucking him in. "Goodnight."

He replied, and I imagined he bid me a good night, too.

"Thank you." I shut the light and closed the door halfway.

Edward was on the couch with his sandwich, but he wasn't eating it. He was smoking a cigarette, staring at the television.

"You want macaroni?" I asked. "Some pasta with butter?"

He shook his head, kicking off his shoes. Edward was in a mood now. Because I know if I'd cooked, he'd stuff himself. "I set it up so we can look at a few houses tomorrow," he said.

"Houses?" I sat next to him. "Like, a home?"

He nodded, pursing his lips, staring at the carpet.

I'm not stupid.

Logically and realistically, Edward is a gangster—a criminal. He's gotta get while the getting's good. So, he does not have a set schedule, nor does he solely work weekdays.

I had to trust him, which is something I remind myself daily.

As long as he comes home every day, he's behaving himself—probably.

As long as I spread my legs, he won't look to get between another woman's.

"Let's go to bed." I crawled onto his lap. "Take me to bed." My nose touched his. His aftershave, the tobacco, and Edoardo scent invaded my senses. My hands roamed his shoulders, and I pushed his suspenders down. "Edward…?"

He started to pull the bobby pins out of my hair, let it loose.

I shook my hair out for him.

He lifted my shirt and then got rid of my brassiere. Then he surprised me—by gathering me into his arms, and laying me down on the couch—and rested his head to my breasts.

"Are you all right?" I wove my fingers into his hair, wondering why he wasn't ravaging me.

Edward hummed, hugging me tightly. "I just love you." He lifted his head to grin, and then he pulled my pants and panties off. "Gorgeous." His hands roamed up my thighs.

And I always find it so erotic to be displayed, exposed for him.

I sat up, leaning on my elbows and spreading my legs, before I fisted his shirt to pull him closer.

Edward moaned into my mouth, kissing me passionately as he quickly undid his pants. "Baby…" He yanked my ankles, pulling me closer, and he entered me a second later, hissing, air escaping through his teeth. "I missed you," he whispered, thrusting his hips slowly, leaning his elbows to either side of me. "You missed me?" He palmed my breasts, keeping me down with his forearms.

I squirmed below him, bucking my hips. "Yes," I whined.

Edward nipped my nipple—biting it hard to let go, watch my breast jiggle. "Hmmm. Look at you," he crooned.

I gasped when he moved faster with more force.

This overwhelming satisfaction filled me—finding pleasure in pleasing him. I wanted him to take all of me. I wanted to be whatever he needed, and right now he wanted my body.

"Take…" I whimpered, my chest heaving. "I'm yours."

He leaned back, holding my waist as he went faster.

Fast and faster, deeper and deeper, digging deeper with each thrust—he had me.

And I exploded, stiffening and shouting his name, I came.

Out of breath, I kissed up his neck. "I love you."

He rested his forehead to mine. "I love you." He sucked my lower lip into his mouth, a groan escaping. "You gotta trust me, baby doll."

I couldn't meet his gaze, guilt washing over me.

"I didn't—I didn't wanna ask until—" He let out a hiss, rocking against me. "—until you trusted me, until I truly owned your heart."

"You do!" I swore it. "I'm all yours." I crashed my lips to his. "Edward—"

Edward leaned away. His hips continued to move, grunts falling from his mouth. He was still dressed, and he dug something out of his pocket. "Here." He placed a box on my stomach.

Seeing the ring box, I stiffened.

"Open it." Edward grabbed my hips to continue fucking me.

Everything he was doing felt amazing. I didn't know if I wanted to focus on my next orgasm, or . . .

My lip quivered when I opened the box. The ring was beautiful—the most beautiful ring I'd ever seen. The center diamond sat in a flower, two smaller diamonds on each side, and then teeny diamonds ran down the golden shank. "You're nutty," I cried. "It's too expensive—"

Edward was out of breath when he stopped moving. "It's yours. It's perfect, just like you, and I wanted you to have something big." He placed it on my finger. "Did you get around to reading my notes today?"

I sniffled, admiring my ring. "What?"

He chuckled, sitting back on his legs, and then he gathered me into his arms. "I promise to love you forever…to be faithful, to cherish you, to…make you happy." He kissed my cheek. "Baby doll, I'm yours...just as you're mine." He placed my hand on his chest. "So, you gonna marry me? Start trusting me?"

I nodded, smacking my lips to his.

Overcome, my tongue explored his mouth, and I pulled him back on top of me. His dick found me fast, and we continued to make love.

All while I admired my ring from behind his head.

My second climax was a wild one, and it sent Edward over the edge.

I was a lot more tired than I wanted to admit, and I fell asleep right there on the couch.

I woke up in bed, and Edward was sleeping next to me.

Knocked out, I had no idea if Edward left after we'd finished making love.

But he was here this morning.

Wearing a smile, I cleaned myself up and made eggs, pancakes, and bacon before Little Carlo woke up.

Little Carlo loves bacon, and so does Edward. He woke up smelling the food.

During breakfast, he told me he did go back out, but he was home by three a.m.

After we ate, we got ready to leave the apartment.

The first house we looked at was across the street from my parents'.

It was no surprise that I found way too many things wrong with it.

The second house was around the corner from Rose.

The third was up the block from the Social Club, and it was honestly the nicest of the three.

Constructed in the 1920s, the real estate agent called it a brick charmer—made of brick, it's a semi-detached, cottage-style, two-story home. There was a carriage house that'd been renovated to be a garage. A one family house, it had two floors. A half of a bathroom downstairs, and another upstairs. The kitchen was large, and so was the living room. Upstairs, there were five bedrooms, which made me raise a brow at Edward.

How many kids did he think we'd have?

I knew we'd have a room for Marie and Franny to share, and then Little Carlo. We'd take the large master suite, which also had its own bathroom. There was also a yard in the back and a basement—ample closets.

It was a dream come true.

Edward sighed, leaving the house.

I held Little Carlo close and then placed him in his carriage. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He smiled. "What'd you think?"

I beamed. "I think…yowza, Edward. It's amazing."

He winked. "Then it's yours."

"How much is it?" I whispered. No one was on the sidewalk, but it was no one's business.

"Nine grand and change."

My eyes widened. "That's too much." I knew the smaller, modest home Aro was looking to buy us was only five. "We can look at more tomorrow—"

He placed his lips to mine. "No…you want this one, you're—"

"It's too much money," I said. "That's nuts."

"Shut up. You're gettin' it!" Edward was stern. "I don't wanna hear no more." He lit a cigarette.

"Geesh." I continued back to the car, pushing the stroller.

"I won't be home for dinner tonight." He threw his cigarette into the street, opening the car door for me. "Start packin' and call your mother—get to plannin' our wedding." He placed Little C in his chair and then pulled me into his arms. "Something big…'cause it's a reason to celebrate." He nipped my lips. "I love you, baby doll."

I sighed, resting my head to his chest, and I wondered where all the money would come from.

Edward makes great money, doing whatever he does. But nine grand? He's been out of prison less than a year, and I doubted that he had a lot of money saved.

Hours later, I had dinner with my mother and Anna.

Renee was confident she could pull off our wedding, setting Valentine's Day as the date, which was less than a month away.

But, it'd be before I showed any more.

Maybe no one can tell, but my stomach was solid—hard under the surface, and it protruded slightly.

We could be married at the neighborhood church—a Catholic mass. Mom said Father John wouldn't deny Edward, even though he's divorced. It'd be okay. I'd wear her dress, and we'd alter it. All the women in my family would cook. We'd have a buffet-style dinner and hire a band for the social club.

Having the reception at the club seemed like the most logical—easiest. Otherwise, we'd have to rent a party hall, and that was unnecessary. Especially since the club has tables, chairs, space for a band, and a bar . . . and it's free.

It all sounded simple enough, to be honest.

I didn't get any packing done that night. My mother and sister left pretty late, and I crawled into bed exhausted.

Startled awake at two in the morning, I put my slippers on and donned my bathrobe. Half-asleep, I checked on Little Carlo, and then I walked out to the kitchen.

Emmett and Edward were sitting there counting money surrounded by a cloud of smoke.

"Baby, did'we wake you?" Edward had a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

I gazed at the money, and the paper sacks on the table—that were filled with more money. "Did you rob a bank?"

Emmett and Edward threw their heads back to laugh.

"Somethin' like that." Edward nodded. "Why didn't you pack anything?" He looked around. "I already put a down payment on the house...did it this afternoon."

"Oh, you didn't say. Did'ju get a mortgage?" Emmett asked.

Edward nodded.

Fully awake now, I stared at the different guns that seemed forgotten. There were two big ones. "Put these away." I pointed.

Edward left his chair to hug me. "I'll clean up before I come to bed." He kissed me with force. "You don't worry about nothin'."

I sighed. "How much money is that?"

Edward shrugged. "We don't know yet."

But the newspapers knew right away.

The next day in the evening press, they spoke about two armed men who robbed an armored car at gunpoint out in Queens. Robbers obviously had firearms. The two guards transporting the money were shot, dead. Police have no leads, as the bills were unmarked or something, the guys wore disguises, and there was only one witness. No one saw anything. The lady who did, from her window, said she couldn't see their faces.

The robbers made off with two hundred thousand dollars.

It might as well have been a million. I couldn't believe it.

That much money . . .

"Edward." I shook him awake.

He groaned, rolling over.

"Dinner's ready," I said.

That woke him up. "You let me sleep…" His eyes were nearly closed. "Look at you…you're gorgeous." He pulled me to lie at his side, hugging me tight, and I wasn't wearing anything special.

I turned in his arms, the paper still in my hands. "Look at this."

He hummed, sitting up, his eyes widening as he tried to wake up. "What?"

"Read!"

"Relax." He landed a smooch on my forehead.

I waited impatiently; his lips and eyes moved as he read the article.

"Good. They don't know who did it." He kissed my cheek.

"That's a lot of money," I whispered. "Whatta you gonna do with it all?"

He grabbed a cigarette, fast to light it. "What'd you make for dinner?"

I slumped my shoulders. "Pot roast."

He gave my ass a slap. "Nice."

"Tell me," I said.

"Um...live off it? Pay Franny's tuition? Put some money on the street?" He took a drag of his smoke. "Invest in some shit? Save some? Why you bustin' my chops, baby doll?"

"That's a lot of money." I shrugged. "Can we go someplace nice...like a honeymoon?"

"Yeah," he agreed, putting his cigarette out. "That shit in Cuba is wild, though. Someplace else."

"Okay." I landed a loud one on his lips, smiling.

He hummed. "I thought you'd gimme shit about the two stiffs."

I felt horrible, thinking about a vacation when two guys were dead...now that he made think about it. "We should use the money...so we can all go back to Naples?"

Edward grimaced. "We were just there...we'll bring all the kids after the baby's born."

"Sounds good." I told myself I'd say a prayer for the guards' families. "Florida?"

He nodded. "Nice."

And that was it.

He gave an inch.

Edward never elaborated on anything else.

After all, it was none of my business, but I did scour every news article and watched the news—local programming—in the days and weeks that followed. Except for that first day, when it was reported, it seemed to be forgotten about.

Edward had us packing that same night after dinner. He couldn't wait to get out of the apartment.

Things moved fast. Especially since we had unlimited funds to make it happen. But, besides our clothing, we truly didn't have that many things to transport. Edward borrowed the bakery's truck to move our furniture.

The day we left the apartment, I was both happy and sad.

And I suddenly felt like an adult.

Sure, I got pregnant at sixteen, swore I was a woman, and then handled myself as such. Having a baby matured me, as did being Edward's woman—his femme fatale—but moving into our new house made me feel old.

I pushed all those odd thoughts away when I ran through my new home.

It was gorgeous.

We made love on the parlor floor before we set up our furniture—unpacked a thing. God, I love nothing more than undressing Edward, who's easily the sexiest man alive.

My mother came over with my siblings, determined to help me set things up. Her help was appreciated, but she annoyed me—like she always does. Dad came over with pizza pies, which were delicious, and I was surprised to see Dad and Edward getting along—smiling, laughing, and talking about old times.

It finally felt like things were coming together.

But when Mom inquired about bridesmaids, I was reminded of my friendless status.

Franny and I used to talk about our would-be weddings all the time.

Anna was stoked to be my maid of honor . . .

With February came happiness and sadness. Everything was set and ready. We were to be married on Valentine's Day. I was excited, and I couldn't wait for our wedding. I couldn't wait to be Edward's wife. Things with us were going smooth, we were happy. However, on February third, Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and The Big Bopper died in a plane crash. It actually broke my heart. Buddy Holly's poor wife was pregnant, and she miscarried due to emotional trauma. It was sad for other reasons, too. Everyone took it hard, as it was devastating.

Well, Edward didn't care.

I've just been down is all. I remembered Franny and I watched Buddy Holly on The Ed Sullivan Show a year ago...We were excited to watch and dance along to his music.

And now he's dead.

I wondered how she fared.

Also, an American Airlines Flight from Chicago crashed into the East River while trying to land at LaGuardia Airport, killing sixty five of the seventy three passengers on board.

We're supposed to spend a week in Miami, Florida for our honeymoon.

Now, I didn't wanna go.

Maybe we could drive...?

Since I couldn't sleep and Edward was out, I left our bed to walk around our new home. My brain just wouldn't shut up. I also felt the loneliest I'd ever been—even with all the thoughts in my head—finding the house too big.

After I checked on Little Carlo, I went down to the kitchen and grabbed my grocery purse.

I dumped everything out onto the kitchen table.

Notes and small cards spilled out everywhere.

They were dated, and I lined them up, so I could do what I always do when I'm lonely.

The first through seventh cards had three special words scrawled in perfect script, "I love you!" The ones that followed also stated such while they'd also have little anecdotes.

One said: "I asked Roe for a divorce. I never loved her. I love you."

The next said: "I've never loved anyone before, not like I love you. It's like getting kicked in the head." I always giggle at that one, but the one that followed is humorous, too. "I'm living below your boyfriend now. I hope I don't hear youse fucking. That'd be like a kick to the sac."

Some were sweet, too. "When I look at the stars, I think of you. You shine so bright, baby doll, you're like an eclipse."

"Heard this song today, 'Only You' by The Platters. It made me think of you—every word, baby doll. Please listen to it soon. Love you…Only you can make this world seem right. Only you can make the darkness bright." Knowing the song, the lyrics, I sniffled and started to cry.

I always do, but they're happy tears.

"My body craves you. I need you like air to breathe. It hurts not to be with you."

"I love you. I realize that I love you, and I can't have you, and that's maddening. Baby doll, put me outta my misery already. I know you don't love him. Gimme a chance to prove myself, right my wrongs. Please. I love you."

"I've loved you a long time, longer than I knew."

"I treated you like dirt because I didn't want you falling for me. I tried to save you from me—God forbid I ever caused you pain. I'd never want to see you hurt, or disappointed, and I'm no good. But I love you."

"I'm sorry for treating you the way I did. I'm the dumbest mamaluke on the planet. Give me a chance to make it up to you, a chance to gain your heart, right my wrongs. If after, you realize you can do a lot better, lemme know. Just gimme a chance, baby doll. I'm desperate here. I love you."

"I could never hurt you, which is why your pops is alive. I'd never kill Aro because I'd never want to be the reason you shed a tear. I'm sorry for the tears you have shed. I'm gutted to be away from you, but happy since my divorce is final. I love you."

"Don't marry him. Please."

"It's too soon."

"I need more time."

"Are you even reading these?"

"I love you more than he ever will, but I keep hurting you. I hardly remember what I said at the Christmas party. I'm a drunk now, but that's not your fault. Life is tolerable after a few drinks."

"I'll never let you go. I'll always keep you in my heart, and I'll never stop trying. I'll also never stop loving you. I'm here when you want me." And that one was from the day before Aro died.

When I was finished, I gathered them all into a pile with my arms, and then I rested my head on them. Being close to his words filled an emptiness—the hole that appears when he's not here.

"Baby doll," Edward whispered. "Whatta ya doin'?"

I lifted my head. I'd fallen asleep on all his letters. "Take me to bed."

He grinned, gathering me into his arms. "You read them...again?"

I hugged his neck, embarrassed. "Yeah…I—"

He cut me off with his lips. "I love you."

"I love you." I smiled, resting my head on his chest.

Edward walked up the stairs with me in his arms.

I felt safe, secure, the void had been filled.

When Edward placed me on the bed, he put his fedora on my head. "Here's lookin' at'chu, kid."

I giggled, placing his hat on the nightstand, and then I watched him get undressed. "How was your night?"

"Eh…boring." He draped his slacks over the chair.

His earlier words reminded me of Casablanca. "When you let me go, you knew how much I loved you…You just realized it first. In your letters, you told me…you told me things I wished I heard while we were together…things I needed to hear."

Edward didn't say anything as he got under the covers on his side.

I nestled into his arms. "I loved you then, and I love you now, and I hope I get to love you forever."

Edward kissed me deeply, passionately, a lip-lock that made the butterflies go nuts. We both had the same idea, and my nightgown flew across the room. Our movements were frantic and fast—we had the same ideas, like we often do.

"Louie, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship." He winked, entering me with ease.

Thank you for reading.

Epilogue is next