Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. This storyline and all original characters belong to the author. No copyright infringement intended.

MauiGirl60 did her usual brilliant beta job with this chapter, for which I thank her muchly; I am endlessly grateful for her on-going and staunch support. The same holds true for Cared and Midnight Cougar – you rock, ladies. You know who else rocks? You, my fab readers.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Wednesday 13 – Thursday 21 April 2011

The days following were weird. They should have been strained and difficult, but Bella was so relentlessly cheerful and seemingly untroubled, that Edward was left with an odd combination of emotions, being both relieved and saddened by her blithe demeanour.

For her part, Bella felt exhausted by how much effort she had to put into presenting a nonchalant façade to Edward, and she wondered if the growing numbness, which seemed to be a necessary by-product of her forced joviality, would remain with her forever. Maybe, with each false smile and carefree chuckle, small pieces of her heart were dying and breaking off, bit by bit. The longer she maintained this awful pretence, the more damage she would do, until all that remained would be a petrified fossil of a heart, incapable of ever feeling anything again.

So it was with mixed feelings that she received Edward's offer on the Wednesday evening before Easter.

He had come home early, surprising her when he walked through the door just after 5pm. She was sitting on one of the sofas, leaning against one of the armrests with her legs stretched out along the cushions and her laptop perched across her thighs. She was really concentrating on whatever she was looking at on the screen, and as Edward approached she didn't even register his presence until he was leaning against the back of the sofa looking down at her. Her shriek of surprise made him laugh, which, in turn, made her scowl at him.

"Bloody hell, Edward, you nearly gave me a heart attack. I'm beginning to think it's your mission in life," she grumbled, setting her laptop on the coffee table and swinging her legs off the couch.

"Sorry, B, I didn't mean to scare you, but you were so utterly engrossed in whatever you were looking at, I probably could have run into the room buck-naked, singing 'Yankee Doodle Dandy' and you still wouldn't have noticed," he laughed.

Bella quirked an eyebrow at him over her shoulder, but decided not to be drawn.

Is he being deliberately provocative, or does he genuinely not know what he just said?

Edward regarded her evenly, wondering if she would rise to the bait, but she merely looked away, focussing once again on her laptop.

"You're early—are you here to give me another bollocking?" She didn't look at him as he walked around the sofa and sat down next to her.

"Why? Did you do something that requires me to give you a bollocking?"

Bella sat back, then swivelled around, pulling her legs up to sit cross-legged so she was facing him.

"Not that I'm aware of. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company at…" she glanced down at her wristwatch, "… ten past five?" She looked back up at him expectantly, resolutely quashing her desire to reach out and touch him.

Edward leaned forward and slipped his suit jacket off, tossing it over the back of the sofa and then turning to mirror her position, resting his forearms on his knees.

"I wondered how you felt about flying to London tomorrow?" he said, his mouth settling into an oddly sad smile.

Bella's eyes widened. "Really? You mean it?"

He nodded.

Bella squealed and, without thinking about it, reared up on her knees and launched herself at him, throwing her arms round his neck and hugging him tightly.

Edward instinctively went to hug her back, but forced himself to resist the temptation of having her in his arms, even for just a moment, as he was very much afraid he wouldn't want to let her go again. He felt like an alcoholic, for whom one taste, one lapse would send him spiralling back down into helpless and self-destructive addiction. He let his arms drop back to his sides, clenching his fists to stop himself from touching her.

Bella felt him become stiff and unresponsive and quickly pulled away, desperately trying to mask the hurt and disappointment she felt at Edward's continued rejection.

"Okay, so what time's our flight?" she asked, trying to inject some of her original excitement back into her voice.

"Um, well, tomorrow afternoon… and it's… just you. I'll be staying here."

Bella frowned, her confusion obvious.

"What do you mean, you're staying here?"

"I have work to do—"

"But can't you do it in London?" she interrupted, a note of desperation in her voice. If they parted now, putting an entire ocean between them, she feared that any chance they might have of finding a way back to one another would surely be lost forever.

Edward sighed, burying his hands in his hair and staring at the cushion between them.

"I can't, Bella. I… I need to stay here."

"Then I'll stay… I don't really care about going home. I want to stay in New York—"

"Bella, I've spoken to Lydia Carrington-Stanley, and she says you can stay with them for the Easter vacation. I've bought your ticket and you're booked on the 15.30 BA flight to Heathrow tomorrow—she and Jessica will meet you. It's all arranged. Besides, I thought you were all planning to go skiing."

Bella stared at him, her bottom lip trapped by her teeth as she bit down on it. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed for Edward not to pull it free and then suck it into his own mouth.

"You rang Jess's mum?"

"Yes, I don't really know Lady Mallory well enough to just call her out of the blue." He smiled as an amusing thought seem to strike him. "And quite honestly, Lauren is a bit Looney Tunes, if you ask me… sort of proof of the inbreeding that goes on in the British aristocracy."

He chuckled, but Bella was clearly unamused.

"You rang Jess's mother? What the hell, Edward? You arranged all this without saying a bloody word to me?"

Edward swayed back slightly, taken aback by Bella's livid tone.

"But… you said you wanted to go home!" he said.

Bella closed her eyes and dropped her chin to her chest, shaking her head as she did.

"Bella, I'm not a mind-reader," Edward said in exasperation. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

With a sigh, Bella looked back up at him. "It's fine, Edward, forget it. I'll go. There, problem solved, I'll be out of your hair and you can get on with your life."

She got up and went to walk away, but Edward lurched forward and grabbed her hand, pulling her back.

"Jesus, Bella, I can't seem to do right for doing wrong. I'm so tired of you just walking away from me because you think I've fucked up. I thought we were cool. I thought we'd got past… everything." He looked up at her, his eyes full of a silent plea.

Bella glanced down at his hand holding on to hers and back up to his beautiful, sad green eyes.

"Me too, Edward. I just…" She took a big breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out slowly. "I'm sorry, just ignore me. I'm a teenager, I don't know what I want. It's okay, you did a nice thing, you just… I just wish you'd talked to me about it first."

She pulled her hand from his. From somewhere she dragged a smile and pinned it to her face.

"Hey, if I'm going home tomorrow, I need to start packing."

"Oh, you've got all morning to do that. The other reason I came home early was so we could go out for a bite to eat before you leave—you'll be going straight back to school on May 3rd, so we won't get another chance. What do you say to Luigi's?"

Bella reckoned she would choke on any kind of food right now, and the thought of spending the evening sitting opposite Edward in his local Italian restaurant, making small talk and pretending to enjoy herself, might well make her lose her mind.

But she said none of this, just smiled and nodded. "Okay, super idea, I'd like that," she told him, before finally managing to escape to her room.

~o0o~

A little over an hour later, Bella emerged from her room, never so grateful for the brilliance of her YSL Touche Eclat, which had done a brilliant job of concealing the fact that she had spent much of the time crying.

When she had stopped crying, she decided that if this was the last date—if she could call it that—she would ever go on with Edward, she was going to make sure he knew what he would be missing when she was gone.

On the face of it, the long-sleeved purple dress she opted for was fairly understated, not too low-cut, with a draped neck. However, the dress was in a soft jersey fabric which clung to every curve and ended mid-thigh. She wore a pair of black high heeled pumps, matched with a small black bag which dangled over her shoulder. She had partially put her hair up, just leaving long, soft tendrils to frame her face, which she had made up with smoky eyeshadow, black mascara and eyeliner to make her eyes look huge, a touch of blusher to highlight her cheekbones and deep purple lipstick which exactly matched her dress.

The moment Edward turned to see her walk across the room he groaned internally, as all he could think about was kissing those plump, succulent lips, biting down on the bottom one, like a ripe, juicy plum. Tearing his eyes from her mouth, he was incapable of stopping them wander straight to her breasts and lingering there for a moment, before slowly sliding down the rest of her body and then back up.

Oh fuck, is she wearing any underwear… at all?

Bella didn't miss the intensity of his perusal and found herself hoping the dark material of her dress concealed the immediate affect his inspection had on her traitorous nipples. In that hope, she would be disappointed.

Edward noticed.

"I hope you've got something to wear over that," he said tersely.

"Um, yeah, I suppose," she replied, cursing the blush which crept across her cheeks. She turned and went back to her room to find something to satisfy Edward's apparently Victorian idea of modesty. The weather outside was balmy and she didn't want to put a coat on, so grabbed a black cashmere pashmina and draped it around her shoulders, effectively covering her upper body.

When she rejoined him in the living room he frowned a little at the fact that she was still displaying too much of her gorgeous legs, which seemed endless in the three inch heels she was wearing, but decided to say nothing. He wondered if she was being deliberately provocative, or whether she really didn't understand the effect she had on him.

Shaking his head, he picked up his jacket and put it on.

"Okay, let's go."

When they walked into Luigi's, it was busy, as always, and just about every head turned to look at them. The owner greeted them effusively and led them to a table near the back, as Edward had requested.

Edward was used to being ogled by women, it had been happening since he was a teenager. What he wasn't used to was the outright lust which the men directed at his companion. Of course, he had always had beautiful women on his arm, and undoubtedly men had looked at them with desire, but he couldn't ever remember feeling so… furious… possessive… murderous at the attention.

He glared at the assembled diners, unthinkingly slipping his arm around Bella's waist in an unconscious display of possession.

She's mine, fuckers.

The thought came unbidden and he inwardly cringed, knowing that it could never be true.

Fortunately, they were soon seated and he could relax a little, although as soon as Bella removed her pashmina, he was presented with the sight of her luscious décolletage, which he had to spend the entire meal trying to avoid staring at.

Of course, that meant he also had to spend the entire meal trying to ignore the uncomfortable situation in his trousers.

Thus it was that conversation, at first, was stilted and awkward, both of them hyper-aware of the effect that the other was having on them. But as the meal progressed, the fruity Italian wine began to slough the edges off their self-consciousness. They became more at ease with one another, once again falling into the comfortable to and fro of the interplay they had always been able to find between them when they let go of all the negative aspects of their relationship. By unspoken agreement, they avoided the minefield of their feelings and Bella's imminent departure, and talked about music, art, books, movies and the like, finding both common ground and points of divergence upon which to tease one another.

"Are you honestly trying to tell me that 'Shawshank Redemption' is a better movie than 'Birdman of Alcatraz'?" Edward asked with exaggerated incredulity.

"Oh, come on, it's way better. But I suppose you prefer all those black and white films of your long-ago youth, so I don't know why I'm surprised. You probably went to see 'Birdman' at the cinema when it came out," she teased, knowing it would get a rise out of him.

"You cheeky minx, I was born in 1980, for Christ's sake, not 1930," he protested, cross with himself that he let her bait him so successfully.

Bella giggled at his scowl, taking another sip of her wine. "Now don't be grouchy, Edward—it's probably not good for your blood pressure at your age." She snorted at her own joke, stabbing another mussel from her seafood pasta dish and popping it in her mouth.

"Ummm, this is sooo scrummy," she cooed, closing her eyes as she chewed.

Edward's scowl turned to a look of pain as he listened to her moans of pleasure over the food she was eating and he had to mask it by taking a big pull from his drink.

"How about you… is it good?"

Edward looked up from his food in surprise. "What?"

"Your steak… is it good?" Bella clarified, giving him a puzzled look.

"Oh, uh, yeah, it's great."

Edward gave himself an internal pep talk, and they continued with their meal, although by the end of it, he was very aware that he'd probably drunk too much wine, too quickly.

When they left, and Edward had imagined stabbing every man in the heart who looked at his girl, they strolled in companionable silence the short distance back to the apartment. Bella had wrapped both her arms around one of his and he couldn't bring himself to pull away, wanting to enjoy these last few moments of having her so close.

All too soon they were home, and Bella went to her room to change, slipping into her soft, clingy pyjamas and removing her make-up.

Sighing, she then got out her suitcase and started packing, making sure to gather up everything, because she seriously doubted she would ever return. Of course, she now had a lot more stuff than when she arrived and quickly realised that, with the wine she had consumed, the task was too much to achieve before bed.

Going in search of Edward, she found him in the kitchen, dressed in black sleep pants and a t shirt, which, with his wild hair, made him look inhumanly sexy. He was sitting at the breakfast bar, sipping from a tumbler containing a couple of fingers of amber liquid, looking contemplative and a little morose.

"Hey, Edward… um, I don't suppose you have a suitcase I can nick, do you?"

Edward stared into his drink for a moment before turning his head to look at her. His eyes narrowed at the sight of her as he took in the thin pyjama pants which sat low on her hips and the tiny, matching, skin-tight tank-top with spaghetti straps and low, lacy neckline, which didn't even come close to meeting the top of the pants, thus leaving a wide expanse of her creamy midriff on display.

He ruminated on the fact that, despite her seeming to have spent a small fortune on underwear since she'd arrived in New York, there was a singular lack of evidence that she ever wore any of the fucking stuff.

Bella tilted her head to one side, frowning in confusion at what she interpreted as the annoyed look Edward was giving her.

"Er… if you can't spare one, it's okay, I'll just have to put the rest of my stuff in a box for you to Fed-Ex."

Edward tore his eyes away from her and stared ahead of him, taking another sip of his drink before he replied.

"It's fine, I'll get you one," he said tightly, slipping off the bar seat and walking past her, his arm brushing hers and making his skin tingle.

In his room, he opened the closet and pulled out a large suitcase. Turning, he grunted in surprise when he came up against a warm, soft body—Bella had clearly followed him, and was standing right behind him.

A soft gasp, and she looked up at him in surprise. "Sorry, I…"

Edward didn't let her finish whatever she was going to say, he simply dropped the suitcase and wound one arm around her waist, burying the other in the thick hair at the back of her head, crashing his lips to hers.

Bella's momentary shock fell away as she felt his tongue invade her open mouth and all she could do was moan as she slid her hands into the hair at the back of his neck and wrapped one leg around his to pull him closer.

Edward's hand dropped from her waist and gripped her thigh, pulling it higher and grinding his rigid cock against her volcanic heat. He groaned, feeling an urgency and a desire which he'd never before experienced.

In one swift movement which left her breathless, he swivelled them around and slammed her against the wall, his mouth devouring her. When air became a necessity, he moved his lips down her jaw and to her neck, at the same time pushing her arms above her head. He pulled back slightly so he could hook his fingers under her top and push it up and off. He then transferred his attention to her breasts, sucking first one and the other pert nipple into his mouth.

Bella's loud gasp of pleasure did nothing to cool his ardour, and before she could even fully take in what was happening, he had dropped down to his knees, pulling down her pyjama bottoms as he descended and lifting her feet so he could toss them aside.

From this vantage point, he could see clearly the symbol etched in black ink, which stood out against her pale, creamy skin.

Except it wasn't a symbol.

It was a letter, inscribed in an elegant, old-fashioned script… a capital E.

He looked up at her, meeting her gaze.

"Bella…?"

"E… for Edward," she breathed.

He looked back at it, lifting a hand and tracing the tattoo lightly with his index finger.

Bella's breath caught in her throat and she sighed, bringing Edward's eyes back to hers. The next moment he was on his feet, his hands sliding up the back of her thighs and capturing her round, firm bottom, pulling her so that she automatically swung her legs up and around his waist.

Edward knew he could no more wait to be inside her than a six-year-old could wait for Christmas. He dipped his hand into his sleep pants and took hold of himself, releasing his tumescent shaft from the loose confines of the material and sliding the head against Bella's drenched opening.

Without another moment's hesitation, he thrust up and into her, at the same time gripping her hips and pulling her down on him, making them both cry out.

Immediately, he set up a relentless pace, as Bella threw her arms around his shoulders and hung on for dear life. Every moan, every gasp seemed to spur him to greater effort as he worked to wring an orgasm from her. This wasn't going to take long, and he needed to feel her cum.

"God, yes, Edward, yes, harder, please… oh, fucking hell!" she screamed as she felt herself tighten around him, the pleasure blooming in her abdomen and radiating out to her feet and hands, her toes curling and her fingernails biting into his back through his t-shirt.

"Fuck, baby… so… good… cum for me… yesss," he groaned as he felt his inevitable orgasm pulse through him and into her, her muscles flexing deliciously around him.

Bella opened her mouth in a silent gasp, unable to draw breath or articulate any sound at all. She jerked and twitched as he continued to thrust erratically inside her until, exhausted and spent, her legs fell away from him and his softening cock slipped out of her as he wrapped his arms around her to stop her from collapsing.

He buried his head in her neck, breathing through his mouth against her skin, his heart beating wildly as Bella pressed her cheek against his chest and circled his waist with her arms. In this way, they stood for several minutes until their breathing had regulated. Then, wordlessly, Edward pulled away, slipping one arm round her back and the other behind her legs to pick her up, walking to the bed and lowering her gently on to it. Without hesitation, Bella pulled the covers from beneath her and slid under them. A moment later, the light went out and she felt the mattress depress and then Edward was climbing in beside her. He encouraged her to roll over and then pulled her back against him, spooning her, and she smiled tiredly to herself when she realised he was naked. He put his arms around her and she covered them with her own, holding him tightly to her.

"Sleep now, beautiful girl," he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. And although she wanted to stay awake, to experience this wonderful feeling of having Edward back when she thought she was about to lose him, sleep did, indeed, claim her more quickly than she would have wished.

~o0o~

Edward was dreaming, soft whimpers escaping him as he revelled in the amazing feeling that was building up inside him.

He looked down to where Bella knelt on the ground in front of him, her cherry-stained lips wrapped around his swollen cock, her eyes fixed on his as she took him deep and then drew slowly back. He hissed with pleasure, momentarily breaking away from her gaze to look around him.

They seemed to be in the middle of a meadow, a soft, warm breeze rippling the long grass, which was liberally interspersed with white and purple wildflowers. A large, white porcelain bowl, filled with fat, ripe cherries, sat on the ground beside Bella, and the vague thought passed through his mind that it was foolish to bring such a large, fragile piece of crockery to a field.

Edward felt Bella's small hand attempt to encircle his shaft at the base as she once again took him in, deeper this time. He looked back down and immediately wondered if it might be possible to die of pleasure, as he was, once again, captivated by her succulent lips and those luscious, dark chocolate eyes which expressed so much.

"Ahhh, f-fuck, Bella… Christ, that feels…. Oh, God… amazing…"

He reached down and let his hands glide through her impossibly silky hair, instinctually guiding her until he felt his cock hit the back of her throat.

Shit, he thought, she's inexperienced, don't be such a fucking Neanderthal.

He tried to draw back, but her hand tightened around him and, instead of gagging, he felt her swallow reflexively, her throat contracting rhythmically on the ultra-sensitive head, causing him to let out a tremulous, slightly high-pitched cry which, even to his own ears, made him sound like a girl.

Jesus, this is one fuck-hot dream.

Any additional thoughts he might have had quickly scrambled into pure gibberish as Bella picked up the pace, her other hand coming up and gently massaging his aching balls.

He kept thinking his knees were sure to buckle and send him tumbling to the floor before he could reach the apogee of his pleasure, but they held fast. However, it seemed to be getting very dark and he looked around to see black storm clouds gathering as light bled out of the sky with alarming speed—so much so, that when he looked back down he could barely see Bella, just the faint sparkle of her eyes.

"Bella?" His voice sounded croaky and a little slurred.

At that moment, as her mouth moved on the upstroke and her tongue swirled around the head of his cock and then into his slit, she moaned, a soft humming noise which resonated right through his shaft, making him cry out.

"Fuck… meee!"

His dick seemed to swell and stiffen beyond human limits, the pleasure almost exquisitely painful and robbing him of breath, of words… of his very sanity. Like an out-of-control steam train thundering into a tunnel, his orgasm exploded through him and he came so hard he thought he was going to pass out.

All he could feel was her throat, swallowing convulsively.

All he could think was, 'How am I still standing?'

All that went through his mind at that moment was a name, chanted like a litany.

Bella, Bella, Bella….

"Bella, Bella, Bella… ahhhhhhh…"

Edward's eyes flew open, just as Bella sat up from between his legs, a triumphant smile on her face, which was illuminated by a shard of moonlight slicing through the window.

Still breathing hard, Edward just stared at her, wondering if he was still dreaming… whether he had, in fact, been dreaming at all.

"Did you… did you just…?"

Bella nodded, her smile fading as she frowned slightly. And then she did what was possibly the hottest, sexiest thing he had ever seen.

Her tongue flickered out and oh-so-slowly captured what appeared to be a bead of semen from the corner of her mouth.

His eyes widened and then, without another conscious thought, he sat up and pulled her to him, welding his mouth to hers as he kissed her deeply. In the past, he had always been faintly disgusted by the idea of kissing a woman who'd just gone down on him, but he had no such reservations with Bella. The taste of himself in her mouth, bitter as it was, just turned him the fuck on, knowing what she had just done to him.

He kissed her long and hard, then twisted her around and pushed her down on her back. And then his kisses became slow and wet as he worked his way down her body. When he reached the juncture of her thighs, he stilled for a moment, then pushed himself up on his knees and leaned over to turn on the bedside lamp.

"Edward!" Bella whined, throwing an arm over her eyes.

He chuckled darkly. "Sorry, B, I just wanted to talk about… this," he said, his fingers dancing lightly over her tattoo.

Bella slowly removed her arm from her face, and looked up at him. "What's there to talk about?" she asked quietly.

"Why, Bella? And when did you get it done?"

Bella sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Her voice, when she spoke, was barely audible.

"I had it done after I came back home at New Year. After that fun Christmas with you and Twat-Lips Tanya. I don't really know why. I was drunk and there was this tattoo place just along the road from the bar I'd been in."

She paused, finally lowering her gaze to meet Edward's eyes.

"You and I both know a girl can look older than eighteen if she puts her mind to it, and I definitely looked old enough. I didn't even really know what I wanted when I went in, but then I saw all the letters of the alphabet and knew I wanted an 'E.' Kind of like, if I couldn't have you, then I would mark myself permanently with something that was part of you…"

Edward quirked an eyebrow at her.

"I know, I know, it makes no sense now, but I was sad and drunk and it made some kind of sense to me at the time. So—there you have it."

Edward shook his head slightly, before reaching out to turn off the lamp. He then lowered his head and placed a soft kiss on the tattoo, eliciting a breathy gasp from Bella.

And then he set to work on her, using his tongue and his lips and his fingers to bring her to a loud, panting climax.

As she came down, he crawled back up her body, covering her with his own and pushed slowly into her.

For what seemed the longest time, he rocked gently in and out, peppering her face, neck and breasts with hot, wet kisses. Then, as dawn began to break, light slicing through the dark and chasing the moon away, Edward picked up the pace, driving into Bella's body, desperately seeking release, wanting to feel her come undone around him.

Almost as if he needed to get them both there before the new day truly started.

Before he had to say goodbye.

~o0o~

Bright spring sunshine danced across the room, splashing the walls in a mosaic of gold and peach, as Bella stretched languidly in the big bed, her body aching deliciously. She rolled over to snuggle up to Edward, only to find his side of the bed empty and cold.

Frowning, she rubbed her eyes and sat up slowly, looking around, but Edward was clearly not in the room, nor, by the silence and open door, was he in the bathroom.

Although she couldn't deny she was disappointed not to find her gorgeous husband asleep—or, better still, awake—beside her, she refused to let his absence from their bed bring her down after the unbelievable and incredible and fucking fantastic events of the previous night. She couldn't wait to see him, feel his arms around her, kiss him and hold him. She would gladly forfeit Easter with her friends if it meant more of what Edward served up to her last night.

She slid out of bed and walked across the room, retrieving her pyjamas and slipping them on, before heading out to the kitchen.

The apartment was quiet and there was no sign of Edward, which she found a little puzzling. It was still early—not yet 8.00AM—and she was sure he wouldn't mind being late for work today, otherwise he would surely have woken her up before he had to leave. Perhaps he'd gone out for a paper or something.

She went over to the worktop to fill the kettle, then paused when she saw a folded piece of paper propped up against it.

Frowning, she picked it up and opened it out to reveal Edward's neat, beautifully cursive handwriting.

Bella (no darling, or dearest, or beautiful)

Sorry I missed you, but I need to go into the office this morning and, unfortunately, I won't be home before you have to leave, but I've left the spare suitcase in your room so you'll be able to pack all your stuff, and I'll ask Rose to arrange a car to pick you up at 12.30PM to go to the airport.

I'm not sure when I will get back to London, but hopefully I will be able to make it for your graduation, work permitting—drop me a line with the details when you know them.

Please be safe and take care of yourself—I have always meant what I said when I told you I care and worry about you. Equally, I am and always will be your friend, if you'll let me. That may be hard for you to accept or understand right now, but with the perspective that distance can provide, I hope you soon will.

Yours
Edward

PS: Your flight details are attached and as I mentioned, Jessica and her mom will meet you at Heathrow.

Bella stared at the note, reading it over and over, trying to understand what had changed since last night.

And then, as the full import of his words hit home, her knees buckled and she crumpled to the floor, a loud, keening howl shattering the quiet of the morning.