Remember when I used to update multiple times a week? I really miss that.

Chapter Nineteen: "Hormonal" Bella's POV

It was the fourth day of throwing up in the mornings.

And I was beginning to grow suspicious.

I didn't grow up with a mom, but Charlie's female friends had taught me how to read a calendar. And according to my calendar, my biological clock was a little...off.

Edward was acting funny, too. He seemed to fully suspect what I was suspecting. He didn't even show any emotion when I started vomiting as soon as I smelled my toothpaste-he just held my hair back and rubbed my shoulders.

"We need to talk," he said when I finished.

No. I wasn't ready to have this conversation yet. Besides, I wasn't even pregnant. I couldn't be. I never missed a dose of birth control, and Edward often wore condoms, anyway. He was almost as responsible as I was. It was so unlikely. Nearly impossible. Certainly improbable.

"I'm going to bed," I muttered, totally unwilling to face the day. To face this conversation he wanted to have.

He sighed and watched me as I walked back to the mattress on the floor that I was seriously sick of. When I was curled up again with my sleeping bugs, he walked to the window and looked out.

"It looks like they're clearing the roads," he remarked. "We might get our power back today."

"Really?" I asked, excited.

"Yeah. I'm going to shovel the driveway while the plow takes care of the road."

"Okay. Be careful," I cautioned him. "It's slippery."

"Yeah, I don't want a bruised butt."

"I don't want to see a bruise on that butt," I smiled to myself.

"Ha, I heard that."

I rolled my eyes and tried to go back to sleep while he was outside, but my body had other ideas. I was starving-which wasn't a good sign. I sighed and rolled out of the warm blankets to go find breakfast that didn't have to be cooked. I sure didn't find much. Finally settling on an apple, I munched on it and stared out the window thoughtfully, watching my love and contemplating this entire situation.

You can't be pregnant. It's just an awful case of PMS.

Then why are you still waiting on your period?

I sighed at the thought, tears filling my eyes.

No, Bella. Don't you dare cry. You're not pregnant. You're. Faking. Yourself. Out.

I had to believe that voice. Besides, this pseudo-pregnancy was nothing like my pregnancy with EJ and Abby. I didn't have morning sickness for months with them. I simply couldn't be. Improbable. Impossible.

That's it, Bella. Think positive.

I went back to bed to zonk out for a while. I woke up to a couple of loud kids, a cooking boyfriend, and to my surprise, heat and the television quietly playing. That was enough to give me energy. I leapt out of bed and ran to Edward. "We have electricity?" I squealed in delight.

"We do indeed. Are you feeling better?"

I nodded.

"I took the kids to the store and picked up a few items," he said cryptically as he fried chicken in a skillet-chicken that smelled really, really good.

"Alright," I said as I opened the refrigerator and found he had already returned the groceries to the fridge. The drinks were frozen from being in the shed, so I just settled for a glass of tap water.

"Bella, we need to talk," he said again.

I sighed. "That's never a good way to start a conversation. Are you already sick of me after four days of being snowed in?"

He smiled and came to wrap his arms around me. "No, love. I just want to talk about this virus of yours."

I melted into his embrace, already knowing what was coming. "Oh?"

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Bella, do you think you could be pregnant?"

I shook my head. "No. I'm not pregnant."

"I think you are."

"I'm not."

"Have you had your period?" he quizzed me.

"It's a day late!" I exclaimed. "That's it!"

"So your period is late, and you're throwing up every morning," he said softly. "Sweetie..."

"I just don't believe it yet," I said crossly, pulling out of his arms. "I don't have enough evidence."

He sighed and let me walk away. EJ walked into the kitchen, and I scooped him up, cuddling him to my chest. "Hi, sweet boy," I said, kissing his face. "I love you."

"Love you, too," he smiled at me before looking over at Edward. "Love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, baby," Edward replied tiredly.

I held EJ on my hip as I pulled out vegetables to compliment the chicken. He stayed there for about one minute until he was ready to get down and go play with his Christmas toys. I sighed and put him down, missing my snuggly little boy. Babies were, at least, easier to love on than toddlers. Toddlers just didn't have patience for staying still and cuddling.

"Can we strike a deal?" Edward asked me gently, as if he were walking on eggshells.

"What, Edward?"

"If your period isn't here by tomorrow night, you take the test I bought. Just to give me some peace of mind."

"You bought a test?" I exclaimed, crossing my arms over my very-flat stomach. "Edward!"

"Bella, I have a gut feeling. Please don't be mad at me."

"And what evidence do you have to support this gut feeling?"

He began to list things, counting on his fingers. "Late period. Morning sickness. The fact that we have sex at least five times a week, so a baby isn't exactly
an impossibility. The fact that you've been just a little hormonal, babe. Need I go on?"

"Hormonal," I repeated. "You think I've been hormonal?"

"Em and Jazz have noticed it, too."

Well, that's news to me."Really?" I asked meekly.

He nodded and crossed back over to me. "Yeah. They brought up your mood swings. Listen, Bella, I'm not mad at you. I'm just concerned about you. I want to know if you're carrying a baby. If you're not, then I want to know what's wrong with you. Why are you sick? And if you are indeed pregnant, then I want you to have the best medical care available. You'll need vitamins and stuff to take care of yourself...and of the baby." His voice grew very soft around that last word, and he tenderly kissed my neck, right on that sweet spot that he knew made my toes curl in pleasure.

"You're cheating," I mumbled as I felt the guilt wash over me. Of course he had my best interest at heart…

"No, honey," he chuckled. "I'm just loving you."

I sighed and wrapped my arms around his neck as he continued to kiss my throat. "And what do I get out of this deal? If you're wrong..."

He smiled against my skin. "Then you own me. You can figure out how I can make it up to you."

I rubbed the back of his neck as he adored my skin with his mouth. "You'll learn to play 'Angel' by Jack Johnson on the guitar?"

"Of course. Any song you want."

"And you'll make me cheesecake and Butterfinger ice cream?"

"Consider it done, sweet girl."

I giggled as he nipped at my neck. He alwayswon. "Okay, fine. Sheesh. I'm waiting twenty-four hours."

He put a hand over my pounding heart before ducking his head so he could kiss the skin over it. I really wanted to be mad at him, but he could always "kiss it better." Seriously, he didn't play fair.

He gently pushed me against the wall, letting his hands cup my hips as he kissed my mouth.

"Edward?" I whispered against his lips.

"Yes?"

"Aren't we supposed to be mad at each other?"

He laughed and rested his forehead against mine. "No. We're not. Ever. It's a cardinal sin. Now let me kiss you."

"Someone is desperate to get out of the doghouse-ahh!"

I squealed as he bit my bottom lip-just hard enough to shut me up. He laughed. The motions of his smirking lips, coupled with my squeals, made the kiss just a little awkward. Our teeth clashed together, making him pull back instantly.

"That was an epic fail," he grinned. "Shall we try again?"

"We shall."

"Then keep your mouth shut."

"Okay, no tongue for you."

"That's not what I meant-"

He was interrupted by my lips. No matter what I said to him, it was a little hard to keep my tongue out of his mouth. Our "tonsil hockey," as Emmett would call it, was growing rougher and rougher. The bugs were thoroughly occupied in the living room, so I didn't see anything wrong with enjoying my gorgeous boyfriend...

Edward's hands cupped my hips, traveled up my stomach under my shirt, and went straight to my bra. Such a man.

"Oh!" I exclaimed, recoiling in pain.

"What?" he asked me, worried.

I slapped his hand from my breast. "Jesus, how hard did you squeeze me? I'm not a cow."

His eyebrows shot up. "Did that hurt?"

"Uh, yeah!" I exclaimed. "Slow and sweet, Edward. That's how I like it. Slow. And. Sweet."

He stared at me for a few seconds before he very deliberately squeezed my breast again.

"What the hell!"

"Breast tenderness," he said quietly.

"It's PMS! Get your hands off of me! Pervert!" I pushed him away, walking to the stove to flip the chicken before we burned the house down. "What happened to tact?"

"Okay, fine," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Isabella, darling, will you please allow me to grope you so I can diagnose you as pregnant or not pregnant?"

How old is he?"Don't say that word! The p-word! And no! I will not! And I don't appreciate the sarcasm!"

Totally pissed off by now, I threw the spatula down. "I'm getting a shower," I announced. "And then I'm going to wear real clothes, leave this damn house, and have some time to myself. Don't call me unless there is a legitimate emergency, okay?"

"Damn house!" a little voice from the floor parroted me. We glanced over in horror and saw EJ in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Don't say that!" we nearly shouted.

His face crumbled. "Damn house?"

"No!" Edward scolded him. "No-no."

"Why?"

I snorted at our children's new favorite word. "I'll leave you to take care of this, Edward."

I went to my house, took a long hot shower, and then found my cell phone as I selected jeans and a sweatshirt. I immediately called my own version of 911, the one woman who could solve any problems.

"Hello, sweetie," she chirped, but something in her tone sounded cautious. What has Edward said to her?

"I need help," I mumbled. "Can I come to your house and crash for a little while?"

"Of course." She paused. "Is everything okay?"

"Just peachy," I rolled my eyes as I pulled on my clothes. "I need a quiet house and some girl talk. And maybe some tea."

"Tea or margaritas?" she joked.

I laughed softly. A margarita sounded pretty tempting...

But no. Not until my period came. I wasn't pregnant—I could almost feel it in my bones-but I didn't take chances when it came to anything like this.

"Just tea," I said, hoping my voice didn't sound as strained to her as it did to me.

"Okay. I'll have a pot ready. Jasper is over here, helping me clear the snow off my driveway and gutters. Is that okay, or do I need to send him away?"

"No, actually that's perfect," I breathed out. I needed Jasper. Esme could explain Edward the son, but Jasper could explain Edward the man. Sort of like Esme could explain Bella the mother, but Jazz could explain Bella the psycho.

So after I was ready, I carefully drove through the salted roads to the big white house. I couldn't believe I was lucky enough that they had already cleared out the very roads I needed. Jasper was indeed shoveling snow. He gave my car a wary glance, making me assume that Edward had indeed been talking about me, and then carefully jogged to help me out.

"Careful, darlin', don't slip," he warned as he held my hand while I tried to regain my footing.

"Thanks," I mumbled, giving him a hug. "So why are you sucking up to Esme?"

He laughed. "Carlisle is working, Emmett is dealing with Evan's colic, Edward is with the bugs, so that leaves me to do this chore for her. Plus Alice is wedding planning again."

"Ah. Is Esme inside?"

"Yes, probably making me some soup."

We walked into the house together and shed our many layers until we were only wearing jeans and sweatshirts. Esme was in the kitchen, stirring a bubbling pot and talking on the phone. "Sweetheart," she was saying, "They want you to work that long?" A look of irritation crossed her face as whoever she was talking to replied. "But Carlisle, you bought those tickets to the ballet in Seattle...I know that the snow may prevent that show from happening anyway, but we were supposed to have a weekend in Seattle. Together. Alone. I mean, even if we were just trapped in the house again, I would be happy. As long as we were alone and without our children."

Jasper and I smirked at her annoyed tone.

"Don't even start, Carlisle Cullen-you may know what it's like to be a doctor, but I know what it's like to be a doctor's wife. And I'm getting pretty sick of it. You promised me that as soon as Alice was out of the house, you would work less...I know that a blizzard creates chaos in an ER, but what about the years before the blizzard?" She rolled her eyes and started to furiously chop an onion. "Yes, I'm holding a knife, and you're lucky it's ripping apart a vegetable and not you! Or your supervisor!...don't you dare call me irrational! You're breaking a promise! I just miss you, sweetheart, and it feels like your job is your mistress."

She rolled her eyes again, chomped down on a bite of food, and threw her hair up into a ponytail. "Okay, fine, fine!" she exclaimed. "Go back to work. Work as long as you want. I don't care. I'll be just fine here by myself, even if the power goes out and I don't have heat or a man to work the generator...what? I am not laying a guilt trip on you! Don't even go there! You're being selfish, anyway."

Carlisle obviously gave her a good piece of his mind, because she started tossing the onion bits into the soup with amazing force, splashing the broth onto the stove. "Shut up," she finally told him. "Just shut up. Shut. Up. I'm ending this argument right here. Work as long as you want, but very soon, you and I are taking that vacation to Fiji we've been talking about, and I reserve the right to tie you to the bed for the whole trip. I don't care if you don't like it. I miss you. We never have time for each other anymore." Her eyes suddenly lit up and a smirk overtook her face. "Yes, Fiji may have gorgeous beaches, but I have a gorgeous husband. Pardon me if I want to tie him up and take complete advantage of his shores."

Jazz and I looked at each other and giggled.

"Oh, Dr. Cullen, I love that idea," she purred, seemingly appeased again. "A private island wouldn't restrict us to a hotel room. Can you rent those?...ooh. We wouldn't even have to hide under the boardwalk."

Jasper cleared his throat, and she looked at us with a blush on her cheeks. "Honey, I have to go," she said apologetically. "But I like this idea. Go save lives, love. You know, you may piss me off to the point of making me fantasize about poisoning you, but I love you more than my own life. You know that, right?" She smiled and giggled. "I know you love me. I'm lucky like that. Okay, I'll see you whenever you can come home. Love you!"
She hung up, shaking her head. "I'm sorry about that," she apologized, returning to the soup that Carlisle's "shores" had apparently made her forget.

"How do you do that?" I asked curiously as I sat on a barstool.

"Do what?" she asked me sweetly.

"Diffuse an argument like that."

She laughed lightly. "Years and years of practice," she explained, waving her hand dismissively.

"But so quickly...I'm envious."

Jasper looked at me, eyebrows raised. "What has Edward done?"

I shook my head. "He pissed me off, and really, I know I don't have much of a reason to be pissed off, but I am. You know how he handles everything so gracefully and politely?"

They nodded as Esme put on a kettle of tea, like she promised.

"Yeah, well, he slipped up today. Reallyslipped up. Granted, I was rude to him first, but he kind of just sent me over the edge." I saw a bowl of Lindt white chocolate truffles on the counter and immediately grabbed one, unwrapping it as fast as I could. "He had no right to do what he did, but at the same time, I know he only did it because he loves me..." I sighed. "So should I even be mad at him?"

Esme and Jasper exchanged a glance. "Uh, maybe you could give us more detail?" she requested. "I'm not sure we understand."

And this is where things got messy. I knew if I even mentioned a pregnancy, the whole family would hear about it before the day was out, and Charlie would hear about it, and Charlie's plumber would probably hear about it, too. And since I was quite positive I wasn't pregnant, they would all just be disappointed. But the seed would be planted, so Edward and I would never hear the end of it. When are you two going to have another baby? You know, it's a prime opportunity to have another baby. Bella, EJ and Abby should have a little sibling. Evan should have another cousin. Edward, you're such a good daddy, don't you want another baby? Evan needs someone to pass his clothes down to. You two would make such beautiful babies…

"It's a long story," I chuckled nervously, shuddering at the thought of that circus. "I really shouldn't be mad at him. I just had to get away from restless two-year-olds and a boyfriend who overstepped his boundaries…"

"Do I need to teach him a lesson?" Jasper asked seriously.

I smiled and shook my head. "No. Maybe I need to learn a lesson, though." I popped the candy into my mouth, sucking on it to savor the rich, creamy flavor.

"Bells, can I be honest with you?" he asked me.

I nodded slowly, not really sure I wanted to hear this. Jasper could be blunt, to say the least.

"You're still healing, darlin'. I'm not surprised that you still feel uncomfortable in a relationship. Honestly, I think you're kind of moving pretty fast."

You have no idea how fast. We're already having The Scare.

"I'm fine," I insisted.

"I know you're fine. But you're also healing. Jacob abused you, sweetie," he said softly. "Physically, emotionally, mentally. He also took great advantage of you. You're still living with that on your heart and mind, am I correct?"

"Of course you're correct, doctor," I muttered. "But I've really let go of him. I've moved on."

"Maybe that's true, but you're still dealing with a lot of heavy stuff."

Esme put the ladle down and sat next to me. "Bella, when you wake up in the morning, what is the first thing you think about?"

"The twins," I said automatically.

"And after the twins, you think about…?"

"Edward."

She smiled and nodded. "That right there tells me that the issues with Edward will work themselves out. But the issues inside Bella won't. You have to work those out. Maybe you need to stop focusing on my son so much and just focus on yourself. Concentrate on feeling better, on totally moving on with your life. You still carry around so much baggage…we've all noticed it. And things haven't exactly been perfect with Edward lately, have they?"

I shook my head. "No. He wants more. I can't give more right now."

"Well goodness, you're practically living together. EJ and Abby Hope call him 'Daddy.' What more does he want?"

"A big, shiny engagement ring. A white wedding. A little bundle of joy. More diapers to change. Take your pick," I sighed, taking another chocolate. "Esme, do you love Carlisle?"

She raised her eyebrows at me. "Of course I do. I would jump off the Empire State Building for that man."

"Did you ever go through a really difficult time in your relationship?"

A fond smile crossed her face as her green eyes—the very eyes that Edward inherited-grew distant. "Yes. When Edward was born, actually. I had a bit of what is now called post-partum depression, but back then, they didn't really understand it. I had been depressed since I brought him home from the hospital, but things really started to decline when Edward was only a few weeks old and wouldn't eat anything. He wouldn't nurse, so I tried formula. He wouldn't take formula. The poor thing was hungry, and he cried all the time, but he just wouldn't eat. I didn't know what to do. Carlisle certainly didn't know what to do, and he took his frustrations out on me. Two days of it grew to be too much, and I flipped. I threatened to leave Carlisle and Edward. I wanted to run away and never come back."

My mouth fell open. "Are you serious?"

She nodded. "As a heart attack."

"What happened?"

"I broke down and cried. Carlisle was pretty much useless in comforting an irrational, hormonal, sleep-deprived woman—I mean, what man knows what to say to someone like that?-but he recognized the signs of depression and acted on them. He set me up an appointment with a therapist. At first I didn't want to go, but it was nice to leave my screaming baby and shouting husband and just lie on a couch and talk about my problems. To have someone listen to me, for once. And Edward grew out of his little hunger strike after a few days, and before I knew it, I had a new problem: I couldn't produce enough milk to fill him up." She laughed quietly. "That wasn't such a bad problem, though, because as soon as my little man was eating, my big man could sleep and shower and eat and breathe. And I could, too. The depression didn't ease up for months, but now that my husband was back to normal, I could slowly drift back to my normal self. Counseling helped, too. It helped tremendously. It brought my sanity back, and that brought my healthy marriage back. We were happy again."

"But how did you repair the relationship with Carlisle?" I pressed. "My relationship with Edward isn't anywhere near broken, but I don't want it to get worse."

"I apologized," she admitted. "One day before he came home from work, I cleaned the house, made sure Edward was fed and happy, put on a dress and makeup, and cooked his favorite dinner. I met Carlisle at the door, gave him the first kiss we had shared in ages, and asked for his forgiveness."

"And what did he say?" I practically begged.

She closed her eyes, a huge smile on her face. "I'll never forget his words. He said, 'Esme, love, there's nothing to forgive. I love you, Mrs. Cullen, and nothing is going to change that.' And guess what, Bella? Edward loves you just as Carlisle loves me. He would have the same answer for you if you apologized."

"Well, there we go with the guilt trip," I grumbled as she went to the stove to fetch the singing kettle.

She laughed. "Bella, I don't even know if your little spat warrants you the need to apologize. He could be entirely at fault."

"Edward is never entirely at fault," I confessed quietly. "It's always me. I'm so imperfect. I don't deserve him."

"He's imperfect, too," she reminded me. "And Bella, Edward never settles for anything but the best. Obviously you deserve him."

I sighed and took yet another chocolate. They really were delicious. "So the moral of the story is to apologize to him, wear some makeup for a change, and everything will be better?"

"Not at all," Esme replied. "Edward likes you better without makeup, and he'll just get angry if you try to iron out the wrinkles by acting like a Stepford wife. I think the moral of my story was that apologizing is the admirable thing to do, and that therapy really helps."

"I second that," Jasper murmured quietly.

"Therapy?" I asked. "You really think I need it?"

She shrugged as she made our cups of tea. "It's a thought, love. It could give you an outlet for these emotions."

"And you could talk some things out with a professional," Jasper added. "I love my soon-to-be-brother-in-law to death, but like you said earlier, he isn't always tactful, and believe it or not, he doesn't always see things clearly. You know, Bella, you say you don't deserve him because you're not perfect. He's just as imperfect as you are. But anyway, he doesn't always lend the best ear."

"True," I whispered.

"Hey," Jasper said gently. "You have my cell phone number and my office number. I'll provide the couch, if you ever want to talk."

That was certainly something to think about.

"Taco soup is ready," Esme declared, turning the stove off. "I'm going to run to the restroom. Make yourselves at home…well, I guess you are home. You know where the bowls are."

She walked out of the kitchen. Jazz and I stood up and went to the cabinet to retrieve our bowls. He poured us up two bowls of Esme's taco soup, which was normally something I loved. But as soon as the rich aroma wafted into my nostrils, my stomach turned.

I shoved the soup into his hands and ran to the sink, where I vomited yet again.

"Bella?" Jasper asked, confused, as he walked behind me and held my hair back. "Are you okay?"

I sighed when I finished and immediately started washing the yucky stuff down the drain. "Get me a bottle of water?" I asked him weakly.

He retrieved a cold bottle from the fridge and handed it to me. I rinsed my mouth out and then immediately started to scrub Esme's shiny sink.

"Uh, Bella," Jazz said slowly. "Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," I replied. "This has been going on for a few days now. You can put my soup back in the pot. That's not gonna stay down."

He obeyed, pouring my soup out while I sipped my water. "I don't think you're going to like my guess," he said in a very quiet, calm tone. The doctor tone.

"I don't think I will, either," I admitted. "Don't say a word to anyone, okay?"

"Does Edward know?"

"Well, he knows I've been puking up every color of the rainbow, because he's seen it," I mumbled. "But we don't know for sure why I'm throwing up. I'm scared to find out. Still, I don't think I'm pregnant. I just don't feel like I did last time."

"Every pregnancy is different. Or so I've heard."

"I'm still not ready to admit that it's a possibility. But seriously…I don't feel pregnant."

He sighed and sipped at his soup. "Let me know, okay?"

"I will. Just don't say a word to anyone."

"We'll call it doctor-patient confidentiality," he winked.

On the drive home, I thought long and hard about my conversation with Jazz and Esme, and I decided that being rational was just the most…well, rational thing to do. Edward was genuinely concerned for my wellbeing. So I was about to do something extremely unpleasant.

The twins were down for a nap when I walked through the door. Edward was typing on his computer—as usual—probably working on a case.

"Hi," I said softly, my typical sheepish greeting whenever something was wrong. I walked behind him, kissed his temple, and rubbed his shoulders.

He removed his cute little glasses I secretly loved and looked back at me. "Hi, my love."

"Let's talk," I suggested, hitting "Save" on his file and closing the laptop so I could have his full attention.

He pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around my waist—my small waist, I might add. Because I wasn't pregnant.

Or because you're not far along, idiot.

I silenced my inner voice as he began to speak.

"Bella, I'm sorry for being a jackass earlier," he mumbled.

No. No, no, no. I was supposed to apologize first.

I interrupted him with a quick peck. "No, let me speak. I'm sorry for being a bitch. I'm just…well, I'm scared, to be honest with you, and I took it out on you. Which isn't right. In fact, it's wrong on so many levels. But I've thought about the whole situation, and I don't want you to have to worry about me. I don't want you to have to stress out. So can I ask a question?"

He nodded.

"Where is the pregnancy test you bought?"

He tried to keep a carefully composed facial expression, but he couldn't stop his eyes from lighting up. "Um, in the bathroom drawer."

I nodded and kissed his nose. "Shall we?"

He gave me a smile and suddenly swept me up so I was cradled against his chest. He carried me to the bathroom, sat me on the bathroom counter, and kissed me reassuringly as he blindly searched in the drawer for the dreaded item. I sighed as he pulled away and held it out to me.

"I don't suppose it would be accurate if you peed on the stick," I deadpanned, wishing that I could produce 100% pregnancy-free urine like he could. Jeez, situations like these can give a girl some weird thoughts.

"Probably not," he agreed lightly, rubbing my thighs comfortingly. "Bella, just in case you—we—are pregnant, do you want this baby?"

"Do you?"

He bit his lip and nodded, once again unable to fight the sparkle in his emerald eyes.

Of course. He wanted a half-Bella, half-Edward baby more than anything.

Could I really fault him for that, like I had been for the past months?

"It will be a big adjustment," I said vaguely, knowing this didn't answer his question, but still not wanting to offend him. "A big-time adjustment. I mean, we already have our hands full with two toddlers."

"We can do it," he said confidently. "I have faith in us."

"Yeah," I whispered. "Well…here goes nothing."

He suddenly looked a little awkward. "Do you want me to go out into the hallway?"

I chuckled. "Well, honey, I kind of do have to use the bathroom in order to get our results. You would probably prefer to go out into the hallway, right?"

He smiled and leaned down to kiss my lips. "Bella, I just want you to know that no matter what happens, I love you, Abby, and EJ more than life. I love anything your body has to offer me, whether it's a baby or just a scare. And I know that no matter what happens, the love I have for all of those things will pull us through whatever obstacles we face. Baby or no baby, I won't love you—or EJ and Abby—any less. Okay?"

"I know," I said sincerely, hiding my face in the crook of his neck. "I love you too, sweetie."

He kissed me once more and left the bathroom.

I hadn't peed since having a few cups of tea with Esme and Jazz, so it didn't take me long at all to complete the test. As I made sure the stick was thoroughly doused, my mind wandered. Would I want this baby?

Well, if the pregnancy really was real, I couldn't just terminate it. That would be so wrong. This baby was half-Edward. How could I ever kill or give up anything that was made of his DNA? Really, as a mother, how could I ever kill or give up anything that was made of my DNA?

I would love this baby. And yes, just as much as I loved the bugs I already had. I mean, I already loved our future children that we had only talked about. But it would take some time for me to warm up to the idea.

"Is that so wrong?" I whispered to myself.

Yes, it probably was, but I couldn't help it. So I flushed the toilet, left the test in the sink, washed my hands, set a timer on my phone, and stepped out into the hallway, where Edward was pacing back and forth.

He looked up at me expectantly.

"We have to wait a few minutes," I explained.

We sank into the floor, against the wall, together, and he took my hand and kissed it, all the while rubbing my shoulders intimately. I couldn't help but compare this to the only other pregnancy test I had ever taken in my life. That day—the day of my husband's funeral—had been one of the worst days of my life. And, to be honest, one of the best days of my life. One of the best days in the history of the universe. It was the day I had first been introduced to Abigail Hope and Edward Jacob. But I had been utterly alone—only Alice and Rosalie, my two best friends, had been there to play the waiting game with me.

But now I had a man who loved me deeply, and who would never leave me or turn on me. Who would never abuse me. Who would never intentionally hurt me. And he was currently worshipping me, massaging my shoulders and dropping kisses on my neck. I lazily slumped against him, letting him pull me between his legs so he could relish the feeling of my body next to his. His arms were comforting, his lips were soothing, and the words he whispered in my ear made me nearly melt.

"I love you, sweetheart…no matter what happens…I love you so much…nothing less than perfection could ever be created by us. Created by you. Just remember that. God, I love you…I thank God, whoever he is every day for you…I love you and our children so much."

The contrast between the two incidents was incredible. I definitely preferred this one. My boyfriend could make me go crazy, but he was so worth having in my life. No, not even that.

He completed my life.

My phone buzzed entirely too quickly. I wasn't ready to move yet. Surprisingly, Edward didn't rush me—he just kept loving me, coddling me, adoring me.

But finally, my panic got the best of me, and I stood up, took his hand, and led him to the bathroom.

"You look at it," I suggested as I went and sat on the ledge of the bathtub.

And finally, he looked like he was panicking, too.

"Are you sure?" he asked nervously.

I nodded.

"What am I looking for?"

"It's quite simple. You bought the type that either says 'Pregnant' or 'Not Pregnant,'" I said patiently. "Tell me what it says."

He let out a long breath and cracked his knuckles before he dared to peer into the sink. I held my breath as he picked up the test and stared at it.

He didn't have to say anything. The dazzling smile that spread over his face told me everything.

"We're going to have a baby?" I squeaked.

And God help me, the man started to cry. Not sad, worried crocodile tears.

No, Edward was laughing and crying and speaking gibberish. "Oh my god…oh my god…Bella…can you believe it? I mean…whoa…holy…oh my god…"

But the sad, worried crocodile tears sprang to my eyes.

How in the world was I going to handle three kids under the age of three?

Still, I couldn't think about that at the moment. Because Edward had suddenly swept me up into a huge hug and was spinning me around the bathroom, laughing and kissing me. I was dizzy by the time he sat me back on the bathtub ledge—and I was grateful that I wasn't vomiting everywhere from the motion.

Edward knelt in front of me and placed a kiss on my belly. "Hi, baby," he whispered, his voice thick and cracking with emotion. "I'm your daddy. I hope you like my voice, because I'm going to be talking to you and singing to you a lot."

And just like that, my world shifted.

I was carrying Edward Cullen's baby.

"It's not going to be easy," I choked out, and I suddenly realized that yes, I had been hormonal for a while now, and yes, I was being hormonal at this very moment.

"Nothing good ever is," he whispered, still staring at my tummy.

"But it's going to be worth it."

He looked up at me, his eyes reverent and crinkled up into a smile. "Yes, love," he replied with conviction. "Yes. I'm already in love with this baby…and I'm ten times more in love with you than I was when I woke up this morning."

I started to cry.

He pulled me into his lap again, and we sat there on the bathroom floor, kissing and touching and crying together. Maybe we were both worried, and scared, and unsure of how Abby and EJ would react, and unsure of how the entire Forks-La Push area would react, and nervous about how we could do this financially.

But we were also happy.

Scared…but happy.

Well, there you have it, folks. She's preggers, and of course our Daddyward is thrilled. His POV is next and I think I might as well go ahead and order him some pom-poms and fireworks...

I'll give you your own explosive cheerleader Edward if you give me a review. Male cheerleader in the tight pants. Not female cheerleader in the tight skirt. That would be just a little awkward.