Author's Notes:
As always, I'm indebted to both NoMoreThanUsual and to Roo for their insightful comments (To Edward: "She means SEX with you, you moron." - Roo) and their keen eyes. Please check out both of their inspired works.
A big thank you to porcelainpaleprincess for catching the error in the last chapter – Porsche is GERMAN! The line's been fixed – a hundred detail points for you!
Is this the end? NO. The Epilogue remains – will it be one or two chapters? I don't know – I haven't written it yet!
Thanks for all the reviews, recommendations, and tweets – if there was a contest for readers – you all would win!
Mood music for this almost ending chapter: Whatever It Takes, Lifehouse; Love Story, Taylor Swift
Proposal
The miles between us and the house dulled the mental murmurings of my family, but I caught the end of their discussion of the morning's events. Any optimism I might have imagined instantly evaporated.
"Thanks, Carlisle, but I really believe he'll be the one to do it," Alice said, trying to reconcile all the versions of Bella's change that she'd witnessed.
"I hope you're wrong, Alice." The last insurgent thought came from my father. It's not a burden he should have to shoulder. No matter how he feels about me, Edward deserves an eternity of happiness.
I caught a memory of my recent furious outburst, and an older one of an irate Rosalie.
"How could you do this to me?" Her remembered shriek morphed into the hoot of an owl before my mind was once again my own.
Bella was a warm feather on my back, her breathing slow and even, unaware of the tempest of emotion that boiled inside the cold shell she clung to so tightly. She must be lost in thought; her arms tightened and relaxed around my neck, even though my stride never changed. Without seeing her face, I had no clue as to where her mood, or her thoughts, lay.
Our family meeting had been a failure in so many ways. My behavior had been reprehensible – and counterproductive. I'd let my emotions control my actions, a rare happening in my long life. Though I'd like to attribute my lapse to my thirst, I knew that my outburst was more primal than that.
Bella hadn't been in mortal danger, and yet I'd not only lost my temper, but my civility. Spewing such vulgar curses at Carlisle, in front of four women I cared about, was unforgivable.
Carlisle. My father, my friend, my idol. The man who saw Bella's death as my redemption.
The rhythm of my fast strides filled the silence between the contractions of Bella's heart, each step carrying her farther away from her would-be executioner. The knee-jerk hatred lingered, though I suspected its focus was misplaced. It wasn't him I despised, it was myself.
Carlisle had never expressed regret in any form for changing any of us – even Rosalie. His remorse stemmed from the fact we, his children, hadn't been given a choice. Snatching us from death's grasp, he truly believed he was saving us, not stealing the only chance we had at a true eternity in paradise. It was that sincere desire to help, not condemn, which allowed both Rosalie and me to forgive him for his rash actions.
By disclosing everything to Bella, both the infinity and the limits of immortal life, I'd removed that barrier. Because Carlisle believed that hers was an informed request, his conscience was clear. Mine, however, remained stained, seeing murder where he saw metamorphosis. No, I didn't hate him, I hated myself.
His offer included 'help' for me, in addition to the theft of Bella's humanity. I'd written off his comment as a weak apology for his betrayal, but in his last discernable thoughts I heard what was really behind his motives. As we'd raced away from the house, he'd hoped he could save me any more guilt.
Whether or not he believed her soul would survive her heartbeat, Carlisle had accepted that I believed it would not. He didn't want to burden me with the pain of having to commit the heinous act, choosing to incur my wrath instead. When I'd unleashed my irrational fury at him, he'd taken the insults in silence...in preparation. He was truly my father, ready to live with my hatred – to risk Bella's hatred, I realized, should immortality not be to her liking – in order to give us eternity together.
And I wanted that eternity, craved it, more than anything else. Even if he were the one to effect her change, the death of her soul would always be on my hands. Could I live with that?
I'd only witnessed Carlisle's administration of supernatural resurrection once, with Emmett. My own experience was distorted by fevered delirium and transitive amnesia, and he infected both Esme and Rosalie when I'd been absent, whether purposely or coincidentally, I didn't know. Emmett was different. Of our family at the time, only Esme hadn't witnessed the taking of his life.
From her knees, Rosalie had literally begged Carlisle to inflict upon Emmett the same tortured future she'd never wanted. Reluctantly he'd agreed, swearing to himself that this would be the last time. Rather than move toward Emmett's shredded body, he disappeared.
He returned moments later with a pitcher of water in his hands. Stopping short, he stared into the clear liquid.
"Rosalie, back away from him," Carlisle said without looking up. Inside, he sheared his being in two: freeing one small piece of his natural predatory instincts while pushing the rest even further away than usual. When he'd isolated that single thread of bloodlust, he brought the pitcher to his lips and drank every drop.
Rosalie and I both stared at him in shock.
"Edward, you may have to hold her back," he murmured, throwing the container aside and dropping to the ground next to Emmett. His stomach roiled against the invasion, but he ignored it. I watched as Carlisle's mouth filled with venom in the presence of a human – a first for me. He looked upon his victim with dispassionate blankness.
Without a word as he administered the fatal bites. Rosalie's thirsty thoughts drowned out his the moment he leaned over, and her struggles kept me distracted enough that I didn't give in to my own urge to join the murderous feast. Blood coated Carlisle's lips, his tongue, his hands, but he refused to swallow. He didn't deny the ecstasy the flavor elicited, savoring it as he licked the bite marks, sealing in the poison. Temptation's scream strengthened in his mind, but he spit it out with the mouthful of blood.
Emmett's shrieks chased Carlisle to the edge of the trees where he dropped to his knees again and retched. The water came back up as pure as it had gone in, washing away the blood and venom as he expelled it. While Rosalie continued to strain against me, Carlisle calmly rose, his honeyed eyes lacking the thirsty lust any longer. The healer had returned, his inner monster safely banished.
In three months he would perform the same ritual on Bella. Suddenly I felt the need to vomit.
Was there anything Bella wanted more than Carlisle to make her a vampire?
Shame, anger, joy, lust, relief, fear, and love...the emotional roulette I rode stopped this time on dread.
Though she'd asked others, I suspected – hoped? – that what she wanted most was for me to do the atrocious honors. Whether it was Bella's romanticized view of what I was, or some misconceived notion of a venomous bond between victim and murderer, I was the one she'd beseeched countless times. Nothing could be further from the truth. My poisoning Bella would be a desecration of the love I had for her, not manifestation of its permanence.
Yet Alice had shown me I was capable of the act – I hadn't just prevented my sister from administering the fatal bite, I'd replaced her honed incisors with my own. Did she see me interrupting Carlisle mid-mauling as well? Swallowing back dry heaves, I had my answer.
If Bella was going to hate anyone, it would be me.
Bella...her steamy exhalations formed a comet's trail of sweet enticement behind us. Nothing else compared; not the flora, the gathering storm, definitely not the fresh scent of blacktail deer crossing our path. As unappetizing as the creatures were, knowing such easy prey was nearby caused my mouth to water for the first time in weeks. Somehow I'd have to tear myself away from Bella long enough to hunt.
If she were a vampire, she could hunt with me...
My imagination ran wild in those seconds. She'd race through the night by my side, rather than ride on my back. Her keen human ability to observe others would be heightened even further as an immortal, making her an adept predator, I predicted. A beautiful, intelligent, unstoppable huntress. My partner and competitor; my mate. A woman with desires that only I would satisfy...
With a deep breath, I mentally shook myself. My version of heaven was nothing compared to what she'd be giving up. I couldn't let my selfishness deny her the paradise her perfect soul deserved.
I didn't hesitate when we reached her house. Charlie was still sound asleep, the house seeming to expand and contract with each of his grinding snores as I snaked through Bella's window. Once on her bed, she quickly slipped out of her shoes and sweater and burrowed under the quilt.
Unable to stop moving, I paced, stepping on the squeaky board that secreted Bella's birthday gifts. She'd thrown a fit over receiving such innocuous items. There was one gift she'd accept from me with open arms...and neck bared.
No, not a gift, a trade. What would she give me in exchange for death?
"Whatever you're planning, it's not going to work." She sounded tired...or bored.
"Shh. I'm thinking."
She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. I should've felt guilty for snapping at her, but saving her soul took precedence over manners.
Nothing could possibly equate with the theft of her eternal paradise, but if I had more time...
Time. If she could see what she was missing...college, her family, adulthood...maybe she'd at least comprehend how hard being a perpetual teenager was. Taking Driver's Ed eleven times was just one facet of the hell I endured.
"Ugh!" As if seeing my tormented experiences, Bella buried herself under the covers. I was by her side in an instant, lifting the shroud from her pouting face.
"If you don't mind, I'd much rather you didn't hide your face. I've lived without it for as long as I can stand. Now…" I fingered her hair, preventing the silky curtain from hiding her from me again.
Time to test my theory. "Tell me something."
"What?" she asked with a heavy sigh.
"If you could have anything in the world, anything at all, what would it be?"
"You," she said warily.
Flattering, but not specific enough. "Something you don't already have."
If my guess was right, I would be putting everything on the line. All in, they would say in Las Vegas.
Her eyes narrowed, then wandered across my face. I showed her nothing but patience.
"I would want…" she picked at her lower lip with her fingers, "...Carlisle not to have to do it. I would want you to change me." She carefully laid her hand on my chest and hunched her shoulders like she was bracing for an impact.
Bella only feared my rebuke, but seeing her cringe in my arms chilled me to the bone.
"What would you be willing to trade for that?" I asked quietly.
I might as well have locked lips with Mike Newton in the middle of the lunch room by her shocked expression.
"Anything," she barked.
I knew that wasn't true, and smiled. To borrow from Charlie's vernacular, the hook was set, now I had to reel her in. Knowing my first bid would be rejected out of hand, I went as high as I could without sounding flippant. "Five years?"
Green tinged her soft cheeks.
"You said anything," I prodded.
"Yes, but… you'll use the time to find a way out of it. I have to strike while the iron is hot. Besides, it's just too dangerous to be human – for me, at least. So, anything but that."
I pictured Carlisle leaning over her, just weeks from now. "Three years?"
"No!" she cried, then clamped her mouth shut.
A garbled "deeper water" came from the bedroom across the hall.
"Isn't it worth anything to you at all?"
At first I'd thought I'd misjudged her, that it didn't matter who infected her, but when she clenched her jaw, then put on the smooth, emotionless mask she'd practiced, I knew. She did want me to be the one to poison her – and perversely, that knowledge thrilled me. Apparently Bella wasn't the only one capable of imbuing murder with romance.
Her lips puckered as she calculated her counter offer. "Six months."
Yes, she wanted this badly. But I was the more experienced poker player. I rolled my eyes. "Not good enough."
"One year, then. That's my limit."
Really? "At least give me two."
"No way. Nineteen I'll do. But I'm not going anywhere near twenty. If you're staying in your teens forever, then so am I."
One year. It wasn't enough to show her all she was giving up. The fleeting vision Alice had seen before we left the house returned. White people...white dress...white wedding? I didn't need my sister to see that fantastic future; I'd dreamed my own version up months ago.
Bella stood at the end of the runner, bathed in the purest white, clutching Charlie's arm. Strains of music filled the air, along with gentle sighs as the crowd rose. Carefully she stepped forward, steadying herself on father's arm.
I couldn't see exactly what she wore or how her hair was styled. Her candy-apple lips caught the light, reflecting the flame of a single candle back to me. Self-consciously she moistened them, the tip of her tongue peeking out. Jealous, my lips parted, less than satisfied when all they felt was air whistling past as I sucked in a breath.
The roses in her cheeks bloomed with her coy smile, recognizing the power she had over me, both mind and body.
"Till death do us part," she whispered.
The imagined scene would repulse Bella: the pageantry, the attention, the very institution of marriage epitomized everything she loathed...and defined the metaphorical infinity I fantasized sharing with her. No other promise or vow carried the weight that of the simple phrase "I do."
As much as she yearned for me to doom her with immortality, I hungered for her hand in marriage. The question was, did she hate the idea of wedlock as much as I despised infecting her with eternal damnation? If so, I'd found the perfect requirement. If not, we'd both get what we wanted – but was her hand worth her soul?
Seeing only determination in Bella's undiluted eyes, and hearing nothing but silence from her intelligent mind, pitting my greatest desire against hers was a gamble. Trusting that Bella's stubbornness was still intact, I laid all my self-serving cards on the table. Call, I thought.
"All right. Forget time limits. If you want me to be the one – then you'll just have to meet one condition."
"Condition? What condition?" There was no curiosity in the question.
I considered dropping to one knee, but since I wasn't asking, it didn't seem appropriate. "Marry me first."
She didn't even blink, and for one heartrending moment I thought she was seriously considering my offer.
"Okay. What's the punch line?" she said, brushing off my proposal like a loose piece of lint.
Her indifference stung, but she hadn't flat out denied me. "You're wounding my ego, Bella. I just proposed to you, and you think it's a joke."
"Edward, please be serious."
She thought I was bluffing. "I am one hundred percent serious." Without blinking I lost myself in her worried eyes, forgetting for the moment that my true motives were not matrimony, but Bella's survival.
The blood drained from her cheeks. "Oh, c'mon, I'm only eighteen," she squeaked.
First she worried about getting old, now she was too young? Two could play the age game. "Well, I'm nearly a hundred and ten. It's time I settled down."
Her eyes darted around frantically, finding an escape route in the blackness peering in through the window. "Look," her voice cracked, "marriage isn't exactly that high on my list of priorities, you know? It was sort of the kiss of death for Renée and Charlie."
As it would be for her. "Interesting choice of words."
"You know what I mean."
Actually, I wasn't sure I did. Maybe I'd overestimated her desire for me to take her life, her soul. "Please don't tell me that you're afraid of the commitment."
"That's not it exactly. I'm…" she scrambled for words, "...afraid of Renée. She has some really intense opinions on getting married before you're thirty."
Thirty? Was it only minutes ago I'd stunned her citing the same milestone? Comparing Renée to the Volturi drew a droll chuckle out of me.
"Because she'd rather you became one of the eternal damned than get married."
"You think you're joking."
"Bella, if you compare the level of commitment between a marital union as opposed to bartering your soul in exchange for an eternity as a vampire…" Using matrimony as deterrent – was there no depth to which I would sink? "If you're not brave enough to marry me, then –"
"Well, what if I did?" she interjected. "What if I told you to take me to Vegas now? Would I be a vampire in three days?"
I didn't hide that I saw through her bluff, and she rolled her eyes. "Sure, I'll get my car."
"Dammit. I'll give you eighteen months."
"No deal. I like this condition." My grin widened. Thirty...would she last that long?
"Fine. I'll have Carlisle do it when I graduate." Her threat lacked some of its previous gusto, though. She wanted me, and yet she didn't.
An able Mephistopheles, I continued to taunt her with this ridiculously backwards Faustian bargain. We both would benefit from time with a good psychiatrist.
"If that's what you really want."
My Cheshire cat smile reflected in her pupils. "You're impossible. A monster." She tried to sound menacing, but her sneer came out as a purr.
"Is that why you won't marry me?" I laughed...and was rewarded with another angry rumble.
All teasing aside, I tried another tactic – one much closer to the way I'd intended to propose to Bella.
Forgetting that I really didn't want a 'yes' from her, I leaned in close and exhaled slowly, letting my scent fill the small gap between us. Drawing on every coercive trick I knew, I peered into her face, my eyes wide and trusting.
"Please, Bella?" I begged.
Her breathing stopped abruptly, though her heart crashed in her chest. She lay frozen in my arms, entranced to the point of speechlessness. I'd ruthlessly captured an angel, and had no intention of ever letting her go. A monster, indeed.
With two long blinks, she shook off my spell. There would be no 'yes' for me tonight. Would there ever?
"Would this have gone better if I'd had time to get a ring?" I asked, only half-humorously.
The air whistled through her lips with her gasp. "No! No rings!" she screeched.
Bella clamped her lips shut, but the damage had been done. The snoring in the next room ended with a sharp cough. "Bella?" Charlie mumbled.
I frowned. "Now you've done it."
"Oops."
"Charlie's getting up; I'd better leave." But I didn't move.
Bella's heart became as silent as mine, sending an icy chill through me. Time...she needed time to trust me.
"Would it be childish of me to hide in your closet, then?" Again?
The color returned to her face. "No. Stay. Please," she pleaded.
Always.
I slipped back into the closet, leaving the door cracked open. Charlie dragged himself out of bed, continuing to murmur to himself, as if he couldn't hear his thoughts any better than I could.
"Will she ever stop having these nightmares?" Edward...bastard...heartless. He stumbled to the door.
Unaware of her father's justified grumbling, Bella smiled briefly as she repositioned herself on the bed. Her expression changed as she tucked the blanket under her chin. She fiddled with her hair as she waited, her mouth drawing up in a pucker. Frustration...I guessed...colored her thoughts, but suddenly she mouthed something and poked her tongue at the ceiling.
What could she possibly be thinking?
A sliver of light crept across the floor and onto Bella's bed when Charlie opened her door.
Bella immediately rolled toward him. "Morning, Dad."
Charlie jumped. "Oh, hey, Bella. I didn't know you were awake."
"Yeah. I've just been waiting for you to wake up so I could take a shower." She pushed the covers back.
"Hold on." Charlie turned on the light, forcing Bella to stop and shade her eyes. "Let's talk for a minute first."
She scowled, her eyes wandering the room, but avoiding the closet. Alice never had seen what excuse Bella would contrive – I should have pressed her when I had the chance.
Charlie squinted at his daughter. "You know you're in trouble."
"Yeah, I know."
He shuffled his feet, recalling the speech he'd been mulling over for hours. "I just about went crazy these last three days. I come home from Harry's funeral, and you're gone. Jacob could only tell me that you'd run off with Alice Cullen, and that he thought you were in trouble." In his mind, I caught a flash of the werewolf's face, his mouth clamped tightly shut. Charlie was almost as mad at the Blacks as he was at me, and directed the emotion at Bella.
"You didn't leave me a number, and you didn't call. I didn't know where you were or when—or if – you were coming back. Do you have any idea how… how…" The sight of Bella's regret-filled eyes nearly broke him. It only took the remembrance of Bella's limp body draped across my arms to rekindle his fury. "Can you give me one reason why I shouldn't ship you off to Jacksonville this second?"
Without knowing the true dangers Bella faced, Charlie inadvertently stumbled across the most appropriate course of action. Sunny Florida was probably the safest place for her.
Lip curled and eyes tight, Bella fisted the quilt around her and sat up. "Because I won't go."
"Now just one minute, young lady –" My hiding place didn't afford me a view of Charlie's face, but his ear was bright red.
"Look, Dad, I accept complete responsibility for my actions, and you have the right to ground me for as long as you want. I will also do all the chores and laundry and dishes until you think I've learned my lesson. And I guess you're within your rights if you want to kick me out, too—but that won't make me to go to Florida."
Sucking the air in and out through his teeth, Charlie's anger peaked. He would never kick Bella out – even his threat to force her to go back to her mother was empty. But he was hurt and frustrated, and just wanted to understand. Why? Where? What did I do wrong? He boiled all his questions into a single, loaded inquiry.
"Would you like to explain where you've been?"
Bella became a statue, caught completely off guard. No wonder Alice hadn't seen anything – Bella had no idea what to say.
"There was…an emergency." She sounded like a leaky balloon when she exhaled.
Quit stalling, Charlie thought.
"I don't know what to tell you, Dad. It was mostly a misunderstanding. He said, she said. It got out of hand."
Her eyes were wide, begging for belief, but reflected in her pupils was Charlie's grim face.
"See, Alice told Rosalie about me jumping off the cliff…"
Charlie's mouth dropped open, and his heart lurched loudly. Apparently he hadn't been privy to Bella's adrenaline-inducing pastimes either.
"I guess I didn't tell you about that," Bella croaked.
Charlie didn't move.
She stumbled through her explanation, trying to downplay how close she'd come to ending her life, but the damage was done. Charlie didn't pay any attention to her thinly woven tale of miscommunication, nor did he take notice of her hastily contrived lie about where she'd been.
No, the only thing Charlie heard after "jumping off the cliff" was "kill myself." His mind filled with blurry images of a Bella I'd never seen – an angry, destructive girl throwing clothes and shoes and books at the walls, at the door, at him. Then a crying Bella, unseen, wailing behind her bedroom door, while he sobbed quietly on the other side.
Finally, an almost mechanical Bella, taking out her trash. "Are you feeling better?" he asked, seeing shards of a dozen CDs in the plastic container. The scratches on her hands and arms didn't miss his attention, either.
She didn't speak, but nodded once before disappearing out the back door. He'd feared then that Bella might have injured herself on purpose, and had watched her vigilantly for months.
She was getting better, he thought, going back over the last few days, looking for the warning signs of suicide. Why did she do such a thing?
He blamed himself for spending too much time tending his friend's widow, for not being there when Bella needed him.
In the confines of the closet, I suffered with him. His greatest fear, as was mine, was losing Bella. Her running away paled in comparison to what he truly suspected.
All the blood drained from Charlie's face, I guessed; his neck and ear whitened.
"Were you trying to kill yourself, Bella?" he whispered. He visualized his daughter standing high above the ocean, her eyes blood-shot, her expression blank as she stepped off the edge. It was an expression with which he was very familiar.
"No, of course not. Just having fun with Jake. Cliff diving. The La Push kids do it all the time. Like I said, nothing."
He didn't really believe her.
I'd seen what really happened – Bella's joyful scream and energetic leap off the precipice – and I now knew exactly why she'd done it. I'd literally driven her over the edge. Far from suicide, her near-drowning was really attempted murder on my part.
Guilt gave way to hatred as Charlie came to the same conclusion. "What's it to Edward Cullen anyway? All this time, he's just left you dangling without a word –"
Bella ignored the way he spit my name at her, keeping her voice deceptively calm. "Another misunderstanding."
Her propensity for understatement paralleled her altruism. I deserved neither, especially after our 'misunderstanding.' She should share Charlie's growing disgust.
"So is he back then?" he growled.
Bella looked genuinely uncertain. "I'm not sure what the exact plan is. I think they all are."
Her stinging distrust sliced deeper than any of Charlie's barbs ever could. While my chest emptied, his could barely contain his hyperactive heart. "I want you to stay away from him, Bella. I don't trust him. He's rotten for you." In his mind, bars appeared over her window, causing me to wonder if he might be the source of Bella's razor-sharp perception as well as her muted thoughts. "I won't let him mess you up like that again."
"Fine," she bit back, shocking Charlie. Her stern tone signaled that she wasn't complying. I'd received the same scathing tongue lashing when she'd informed me that a midnight ballot was required to solidify her future.
Charlie didn't hear the defiance, though. "Oh." The air exploded out of his lungs. "I thought you were going to be difficult."
"I am. I meant, 'Fine, I'll move out.'" Though I still considered Bella as dangerous as a frustrated kitten, I knew firsthand that she had needle-like teeth under her tissue-paper exterior.
She sank her teeth into Charlie this time. Every inch of skin...his neck, his hands, his bare ankles...pulsed with unarticulated shock. Palpitations made his heart stutter, and I'd searched both pockets of my slacks before I realized my phone was probably a Brazilian child's toy by now. Alice must have seen this...was Carlisle on his way here already?
Bella reached a hand toward her father, her determination darkened with concern. "Dad, I don't want to move out," she said in a more conciliatory tone. "I love you. I know you're worried, but you need to trust me on this."
She must have seen something in her father's face that convinced her he wasn't about to collapse, because she raised her chin almost imperceptibly, her sparkling eyes radiating conviction. "And you're going to have to ease up on Edward if you want me to stay. Do you want me to live here or not?"
He shook his head. "That's not fair, Bella. You know I want you to stay." Living without Bella had as little appeal for Charlie as it did for me.
"Then be nice to Edward, because he's going to be where I am."
I smiled to myself. In a wink, Bella had taken control of the conversation. The reversal of roles had been quick and seamless. She was now the parent scolding Charlie, carefully wording her argument to prevent a likely life-threatening a tantrum.
His retort was appropriately juvenile. "Not under my roof!" Cringing internally, he visualized Bella in my arms, but when I leaned down to kiss her, suddenly the image switched to a swirl of worms, hooks, and reels. His defense mechanism, I realized. If he didn't imagine it, maybe it wouldn't happen. According to his logic, he didn't hear the tree fall, therefore it didn't.
Bella adjusted the quilt around her with a lamenting sigh. "Look, I'm not going to give you any more ultimatums tonight—or I guess it's this morning. Just think about it for a few days, okay? But keep in mind that Edward and I are sort of a package deal."
"Bella –"
"Think it over." Stubborn as ever, she fingered her hair again, catching and covertly hiding a pine needle that had nested above her ear. "And while you're doing that, could you give me some privacy? I really need a shower."
And with that, Bella effectively slammed the door in her father's face.
Fuming, unable to say anything civil, Charlie pounded out of the room. The anticlimactic crash of the door spoke for him.
Rather than going to Bella, I sat in the chair across the room, selfishly wishing she'd pounce on me like she had once upon a time.
She didn't spare a glance at the still-rattling door, concentrating instead on freeing herself from the bed sheets. Rising, she frowned in my direction.
"Sorry about that."
She apologized for what continued to be my fault, ignoring the latest wall I'd constructed between her and her father. "It's not as if I don't deserve far worse. Don't start anything with Charlie over me, please."
Dishes clattered on the counter as Charlie fixed himself breakfast in the dark, grumbling about who was in charge in this house.
"Don't worry about it. I will start exactly as much as is necessary, and no more than that." She kept her voice to a whisper while she collected her outfit for the day. "Or are you trying to tell me I have nowhere to go?" She stared at me with patently false anxiety.
I didn't have it in me to laugh. "You'd move in with a house full of vampires?"
"That's probably the safest place for someone like me. Besides," an impudent smile filled her face, "if Charlie kicks me out, then there's no need for a graduation deadline, is there?"
Immortality or me? Clearly, that question had been answered. "So eager for eternal damnation," I said, defeated.
"You know you don't really believe that."
"Oh, don't I?" I snapped. Everything came back to the death of her soul – and how fast she could achieve it.
"No. You don't." She didn't allow me to argue, holding up a single finger when my mouth opened.
"If you really believed that you'd lost your soul, then when I found you in Volterra, you would have realized immediately what was happening, instead of thinking we were both dead together. But you didn't." The sly grin returned. "You said 'Amazing. Carlisle was right.' There's hope in you, after all."
As always, her citation was word perfect. As for her conclusion...
I wanted to argue, of course I had no soul – but my own words betrayed me.
Carlisle was right.
At the end, in the moment that I truly believed I'd...died...I had embraced Carlisle's unrealistic belief. I had believed I'd found heaven, that a piece of me – my soul? – had survived death and rejoined her.
No...it'd just been an hallucination! But the heat radiating off Bella's body contradicted me. She was just as real now as she was then – why didn't I realize she was alive the second she touched me? I'd even joked about my thirst being unsatisfied in heaven!
All I could do was stare at her, my mouth halfway open. Bella had seen in me things I'd refused to recognize in myself. And if I didn't lose her soul...if hers wasn't at risk...if I were to do the unthinkable...
I didn't let myself recognize the emotion that the tiny word instilled in me...but she did.
Bella didn't laugh, didn't chide, but said softly, "So let's both just be hopeful, all right?" She snagged her hairbrush off the dresser and added it to the pile in her arms. "Not that it matters. If you stay, I don't need heaven."
I couldn't agree more. Soul or not, Bella was, and would always be, my heaven. The hope she'd found in me drew me to my feet and cradled her face in my hands.
One way or another, we'd always be together. "Forever," I whispered, stunned by the ease at which the word fell from my lips.
With sparkling eyes and a loving smile, she rose toward me, her gaze never leaving mine. "That's all I'm asking for," she breathed, accepting my promise with the sweetest of kisses.
Forever.