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The sun's going down, painting everything in gold.

Edward and I both have the day off, so we opted for the beach. We've been here for hours, swimming and soaking up the sun, playing in the sand. I'm wrapped around him now, kissing the salt from his mouth as we float just off shore. Warm water laps gently at our skin, mellow and perfect, the current playfully nudging our bodies apart and then together.

Despite the late hour, there are a lot of people out. It's always like this here. Metropolitan areas aside, Puerto Rico is still a lot more laid back than the States. It's nearly twilight, but further down the beach, a group of children plays at the shore, squealing with the push and pull of the tide. Heavy bass, from cars probably parked near the main road, thumps like heartbeats, lending rhythm to the rapidly fading afternoon.

And bit by bit we've assimilated, relaxing into our still-new, easy going lifestyle.

I dip back, wetting my hair, and Edward pulls me up, brushing his lips against the valley between my breasts.

"Ask me for real."

He pauses, eyes flashing to mine for just a second. "It was for real. It's been for real."

"You know what I mean..."

"I don't."

"Yes, you do. I want you to ask me the way you would have."

"I hate to disappoint you, but I didn't have any grand plans. I was just waiting for you to catch up." He dips down, kisses me briefly. "I didn't want you to agree to it because you felt like you had no other options."

I feel like we've had this conversation in other places and other ways, but we actually haven't. I've worn his ring for four or five days and besides the conversation that preceded it, we haven't discussed it since. "I never felt like I had no choice."

"Good. Because you've always had a choice."

"Stop being so practical."

"Sorry," he says, not sorry.

"No. Just...I know you know how to be romantic, Edward. I know you know. I want -"

"You're such a girl."

"Hey." I gaze expectantly at him. "My Daddy raised me right."

"Raised you to be a princess, you mean." He grins, knowing I hate when he suggests that I'm spoiled. Before he can react, I secure my hands on his shoulders, lift off, and dunk him underwater. He pops back up and shakes his head, scattering water from his hair like a puppy at the beach. I shriek when it hits my face, but he kisses me again, swiping his tongue through my mouth so thoroughly I feel it in other places, too. I kiss him back until I can feel him hard against me. He gives me a look when I pull back a bit, like he's ready to go right now.

I kiss his ear. "Ask me."

Edward's lips trail down my neck. He pauses at my collarbone, grazing his teeth against the delicate skin. I feel him smile. When he doesn't respond, I pull back so I can look at him.

"Bella." He kisses me, once on the hollow of my throat, once on the corner of my mouth. "Will you...wear those little, blue shorts when we get home? The ones -"

Laughing, I splash him good and try to swim away. He catches me, securing me tight, and I can only imagine how silly we must look to the children on the beach. I wrap my arms and legs around him once more, shivering despite the languid heat.

"Bella?"

Smiling, my heart skips.

"Yes?"

Edward's eyes search mine. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes."

Tanya flips her sunglasses back and squints at me. "And you're sure this guy's legit?"

"Yeah. I mean, he's an associate of Edward's father. And Aro. So, you know."

"That...means very little to me. You need a priest, not a mobster."

"Thanks for clearing that up, Tan."

"Anytime." Tanya snorts, rolling her eyes. "I swear. Another dude on that never ending bank roll."

"You watch too much TV."

"Am I right or am I right, though?"

"You're probably right. Whatever." Shrugging, I sweep my hair off of my neck. "He's a real priest, so that's what matters."

After becoming officially engaged, Edward contacted Miami for help. Ed Sr. was shocked and a little put off we were actually tying the knot, but Aro seemed to think it was only right. A lapsed Catholic himself, he immediately hooked us up with Father Pasquale, an elderly priest in Old San Juan. Neither Edward nor I are Catholic, but none of that seems to matter, and around this time tomorrow we'll be married in a private ceremony.

It's been just two weeks since Edward gave me the ring, but getting to this point has been surprisingly easy. We got our paperwork sorted, applying for a marriage license as soon as Aro gave us the green light to do so. And once his priest agreed to help us out, there was nothing left to do but but pick a day.

"You'll wear a pretty dress?" Tanya asks now, looking hopeful.

"Of course." Smiling, I imagine Edward's face when he sees me all dolled up.

I think of my father, too, and how devastated he'll be when he gets my letter - if he hasn't already. When he finds out he missed his little girl's wedding. A heavy feeling settles in my gut, and for the first time since Edward made his intentions plain, I'm conflicted.

I know what I want - who I want. I just hate that being with him is going to cause someone else pain, namely, my father. We used to be so close, and now...

Always on the same wavelength as me, Tanya leans in, bumping her elbow against my arm. "You'll do it again, right?" She smiles a little. "When Dad gets out."

It's a given. "Yeah. We can definitely...renew our vows."

"I think he'd like that." She grins, but it's wistful and brief, a star shooting momentarily across the night sky. "I always thought I'd get married first..."

"I think it's safe to say that nothing about our lives is the way we envisioned it, you know?"

The afternoon sun glares in the window, casting everything in sharp relief. Tanya squints, nodding. "For sure. I just...it's weird."

"I know." I squeeze her hand and stand. "It is. But...I don't think anyone actually expects to get married when they do. It feels like...I don't know. Like it's on its own timetable."

"Yeah." Now she's the one squeezing my hand. "I know."

Despite the fact this girl has more dresses than anyone I know, she insists on heading downtown to get new ones. I need something to get married in, naturally, and as my "witness", she apparently needs something as well. I find mine quickly: an off white maxi dress, romantic and pretty, casual enough that I can wear it again.

It reminds me of a dress I once wore on a date with Edward a long time ago - in the very beginning of our relationship.

When I think about those days, it's like we were different people then. I look at the photos on my phone and marvel at how much younger we seemed then. It wasn't even that long ago, but we've lived lifetimes since.

I smooth the fabric of my dress, looking at it from all angles. Yes...I think this is the one. Tanya's eyes meet mine in the mirror. She looks at the dress and back at me, smiling faintly. "I like this one."

"Yeah." I smooth the material down, admiring. "Me too."

On a humid, overcast Monday afternoon, right after lunch, sandwiched between my sister and her boyfriend, I marry Edward in a tiny church ceremony. We meet at the altar with little fanfare, but the gravity of the moment descends with a quickness, filling me with butterflies and excitement.

Father Pasquale is ancient, with wrinkled, deeply tanned skin, and a rather magnificent crown of silver hair. He speaks English with a heavy accent, making our traditional vows sound even more sacred and romantic than they already are.

Today, Edward looks a lot the way he did when we first met. Because we spend so much time outside, the sun has significantly lightened his hair and darkened his skin. I wonder how I look to him, if my appearance reminds him of days past or if it's surreal and new. My hair is longer than its ever been, partly because Edward loves it like that, and I've got a pretty killer tan myself. My earrings are favorites; my dress, brand new. I've got tiny blue flowers in my hair and Tanya's attempt at henna on my feet.

Edward notices everything, I can tell. His eyes are everywhere, flickering over me again and again before settling back on my face, my eyes.

Upon Father Pasquale's request, Edward takes both of my hands. He gazes at me, hardly blinking. He looks, actually, like he might cry, and that releases the tears I've been trying to hold back. I let them fall, not willing to let go of Edward's hands long enough to wipe my face.

No matter; Father Pasquale promptly pronounces us man and wife. I'm thinking about how that's definitely going to take some getting used to when Edward pulls me close, tucking me against him so we can kiss for the first time as married.

Some things fade away, others become clearer. I lose sight of my sister, but I can hear her cry-laughing while Tyler chuckles along beside her, amused at her, or maybe at us. Applause sprinkles over the little church like raindrops, courtesy of random people scattered in the pews. My heart clenches as we kiss, ultra-aware aware of the gravity of what we just did.

All the things we have seen and done, all of the danger, and the pleasure, the adventures, and this...this tops them all.

All I see is him. All I feel, and smell, and know, is him.

Our kiss ends. I pull away a little, just enough so that we can look at each other without going cross eyed. "I love you." My face warms with gladness, and maybe shyness at professing something so intimate in such a public setting.

He grins, eyes nearly crinkling shut, cheeks punctuated with dimples I hardly ever see. "I love you, too. Come on." Turning us toward the front of the church, he slides his arm around my shoulder. "Let's go."

"Thank you, Father," I murmur, glancing back at the old priest.

Nodding, he pats my shoulder before waving us away. "Felicidades!"

We hasten back down the aisle with Tanya and Tyler, giddy and high on life.

"Felicidades, Bella!" sings Tanya, pushing the heavy, wooden doors open with a flourish.

She arranges us near a hibiscus plant and takes a couple of pictures. "I got some inside the church, too. You're crying in this one," she says, thrusting the screen at me. "It's so sweet."

Cringing, I scroll through the photos she's taken, relieved to see they're actually pretty nice.

I'm married now. To Edward. I'm married to Edward. Swallowing, I look at him as he talks to Tyler. He's still smiling, gesturing widely as he tells his story. He looks...happy. Really happy, which is good because I'm so overwhelmed with good feelings I might just float away.

Marriage was never something I took lightly, nor was it something I could see myself doing so young. But I'm thinking it's different when you meet the right person. Time tables cease to exist, and suddenly it's not a matter of when or why. It's now, and why not?

"Helllooo." My sister pokes at me, giggling. "I have never seen you this way. Ever. You're like...over the moon in love. I can't believe you married him and I can't tell anybody!"

Trying to rein in my face splitter of a smile, I nod. "I know. Me too. We can't even update my Facebook."

She laughs, and then her eyes full with tears as she hugs me. "Crazy."

Edward's eyes meet mine over her shoulder as he and Ty join us again. "Late lunch? Early dinner?"

"Let's go to that place on the waterfront. With the killer mojitos," Tyler says. "Oh, and congrats, Bella." He drops a kiss on my cheek. "Or should I say, Mrs. Edward Cullen."

"Or maybe he'll be Mr. Bella Swan," Tanya snorts, pulling her keys from her bag. "And I think mojitos sound good."

After lunch and a load of drinks, Tanya and Tyler drop Edward and I home. I wander into the bedroom, kicking my shoes off and letting my dress fall to the floor.

"You're my wife."

I turn to see Edward in the doorway, unbuttoning his shirt.

"Yes. And you're my husband." I step out of my underwear, watching as Edward's eyes follow my movements. "In real life."

"Your dad's gonna kill me."

"Maybe...maybe not." Seriously, it's a toss up.

"More than maybe." He slips his shirt off. "It's bad enough I took you without asking..."

"Took me without asking? What am I, a toy?" I tease, rolling my eyes. "And anyway, I wanted you to take me."

"I'd be pissed off if some guy eloped with my daughter," he says, smirking. "And your dad knows exactly who I am. He knows...everything."

Considering this, I swallow the sudden lump in my throat. "Well, what's done is done. He made his decisions, and I've made mine."

"I just don't want you to be upset about it later on."

"I'll be fine," I assure him. "And as for my father...he'll have plenty of time to think it out."

"When are you gonna call him and tell him?"

"What, about getting married?"

"Yeah."

"Edward." I reach up to release the barrette from my hair. "I wrote to him the day you gave me the ring. Send the letter the next day. Priority. To your dad. He said he'd get it to mine."

Edward blinks, frowning slightly. "So he knows?"

"Of course he knows. We'll probably be hearing from him soon, in fact."

A smile spreads slowly over his face. "Well, that was anti-climactic."

"For you, maybe," I say, shrugging. "He's my dad, Edward. I had to tell him. More importantly, I wanted to tell him. I mean, your dad knows everything. Even Aro knows everything. Charlie can't be in my life right now, but I don't want him to feel forgotten, or like he doesn't matter."

"No, I definitely..." He shakes his head. "I agree. I'm glad."

"Good."

His pants come off, leaving him in just boxers and socks. "So I think we should consummate this marriage."

"Oh, do you?"

"I do. Do you?"

"I do." I touch my ring, relishing its weight on my finger. "But only if you leave those socks on."

Maybe marriage is an aphrodisiac.

We make love three times: twice in bed - the consummation and its follow up forty minutes later - and once in the kitchen, around midnight, where he folds me over the counter top and takes me standing up.

I haven't been this sore since my first time. I leave our bed to take a bath, sitting and soaking in it until the water goes cold. Wide awake now, I make myself a cup of tea and slip out on to the balcony to relax a bit. We've got a sliver of a moon tonight, so things feel darker than they do when it's full. Still, there's plenty to see...city lights and twinkling stars, the hushed red of cars faraway.

One of the features I loved best about this condo was the balcony. When Edward and I came to look at it, it was one of many potential living spaces - but one of the very few with a balcony so generous it felt more like a porch. I spend a good deal of time out here when I can, reading and dozing in the breeze, people watching by day and star gazing by night.

Our bedroom has sliding glass doors that lead to the balcony. I peer through them now, able to make Edward's shape out through the diaphanous haze of curtain I put up just last week: white window sheers that serve more for aesthetics than privacy.

He sleeps soundly, body rising and falling in the slow, measured breaths of deep sleep. Turning back to the world around me, I sit, sipping on peppermint tea that's now cool enough to drink. Despite everything, there is a sense of rightness and belonging. I know because I know that marrying Edward wasn't just the best choice, but the only choice for me.

I can't explain it - not even to myself. Well, perhaps only to myself. I understand in ways that words can scarcely describe.

It's the way he laughs and then looks at me. It happens all the time: we realize we have history. Inside jokes that would be funny to no one...but us.

The way he's almost always touching me, especially when we're out together. And it's not jealousy or possessiveness but more of a togetherness. Like he's reassuring himself of me just as much as I yearn to reassure myself of him. We do this together. All of it. Every day.

It's the decisions he's made, when he could have so easily abandoned me. How he forsook his family to be a better man, and then took it a step further to watch over me, knowing there was a very real chance I'd forsake him right back.

Because the way we began was beautiful, but it was also tainted, and Edward knew I might hate him, but he did the right thing regardless.

And he was brave.

He could have lost his heart, or worse, his life. So many scenarios; thinking of the many possible outcomes drives me nuts so I leave them alone, not wanting to devote too much time to the scarier what-ifs.

But when it comes down to it, Edward is so much more than the pretty face and the sexy smooth talker. The sea-glass-green eyes and the beach-sunset hair. He seduced me, but I surprised us both by seducing him right back, slaying that dragon right where it stood and releasing the true prince he was always meant to be.

And then there's me.

I've never been a Tanya; I didn't have to be everyone's favorite - just someone's number one. And Edward made sure I knew I was his, even when I fought it. Even when he was the worst possible choice. Even when my mind railed against the quiet desperation of my heart, the wanting, the sadness, the lust and the love.

In the end, the crazy shit we survived with my father's nefarious double life - Jacob Black and all of his cronies - paled against what we had to overcome in the wake of Edward's initial deception.

But made it, we did.

I sit outside for a long time, way after my tea is finished, letting my thoughts settle. Eventually the breezes cools enough that I'm chilly, and I go back inside, making sure to lock every door and secure every window. It's something we do every night, despite the fact we no longer live on a ground floor.

Leaving my empty cup in the sink, I turn the kitchen light off and pad softly back to bed. Edward barely moves when I climb back in, mumbling something unintelligible into his pillow. I probably wore him out just as much as he wore me out.

That thought makes me smile.

Sunlight streams into the room, touching the furthest corners first. I yawn, wondering what time it is, and turn over to see Edward already awake. He runs his fingers absently through his hair, staring at the ceiling.

"Hey." I reach for him, touching his arm.

He rolls to his side, mirroring me. "Hey."

We look at one another for a minute, sleep ravaged and messy, quiet and contented. I relish this, loving that the man I love looking at is forever mine. Sleepy eyes, blessed with the longest, darkest eyelashes. Nearly two days worth of stubble on his chin and rather perfect jaw. There was a time when his beauty threw me, when it was difficult to see anything but that. I didn't think he'd ever be mine, not really. I didn't think I had what it took to tame a boy with a face like that, especially with the brief amount of time we had.

And yet it had hurt so badly the first time he left me.

"Morning without you is a dwindled dawn," I whisper, remembering his note.

Something like sadness passes over his face, and he swallows hard. He remembers, too. "That's exactly what it felt like."

"I felt the same, you know. Back then." The memory of waking up alone in a bed rumpled by a night of loving still makes my heart heavy.

His eyes are far away now and I almost regret having brought it up at all. It's quiet again, no sounds but the soft hum of air conditioning. After awhile his gaze meets mine, and then he stares at me for so long I begin to fidget. I clear my throat to speak, to tell him about the revelations I had last night when I was alone with just my tea and thoughts, but he rolls on to me and kisses me so deeply it shuts me right up. So instead I communicate with my body, running my fingers through his soft, messy hair, wrapping my legs around his narrow hips: i love you i love you i love you.

We kiss until I'm wet and he's hard, and he's pushing my t-shirt up so that he can have his way. I'm still somewhat sore, but then his mouth is on my neck, my ears, and it feels so good that pleasure overrides the pain.

He loves me hard...really hard...like he's trying to fuck away the parts of our past that hurt. The parts of us that no longer belong. It's a joy and it's a battle, and I meet him touch for touch and thrust for thrust, biting his mouth and scratching lightly his back. Flattening his body over mine, he opens me wide and makes me come from sex alone, something that doesn't always happen. Normally it takes much more, fingers or his mouth, but this morning our bodies just get it in ways my mind struggles to keep up with.

Maybe I need this just as much as he does.

When he comes, it's with the force of a freight train. I'm pretty sure I'm bruised from the inside out and yet...it's the warmest and best sort of spent. I melt back into the mattress, letting go with a satisfied exhale as he climbs off of me. Scattering kisses over my closed eyes and flushed cheeks, he leaves me in bed. I hear the shower go on a minute later, and, yawning, I let myself doze.

The smell of coffee pulls me back to the land of the living.

I don't know how long I was out; can't have been long, judging by the light. I stretch, rolling over, pausing when I hear the crinkle of paper.

Reaching blindly, I find a note.

mornings with you

My heart stutters. I pause, looking around, but it sounds like Edward's still in the kitchen. Taking a deep, shaky breath, I look down at the paper again.

mornings with you

i slowly wake

as day is dawning;

to fingertips

and lips imploring

the sheets against my skin

he says,

like wrapping paper

on Christmas morning.

I read it twice, and then once more, before folding it and placing it under my pillow.

*poem by Lang Leav

*songs

Toro y Moi - Blessa

Richard Ashcroft - I Get My Beat

just one more chapter to go. thanks so much for reading.

xoxo