Despite my apprehension, Edward and I end up staying for dinner. Raoul prepares an extravagant meal all on his own, turning down our offer to help. The four of us indulge in a couple bottles of wine, the conversation flowing surprisingly well.

I have to say, out of the few men I've met through Renee, Raoul is the most well-rounded. I mean, the bar has been set pretty low but still. He's not passed out drunk on the couch. He's not shamelessly eyeing me in a way that's completely inappropriate. For a hot minute, I don't feel as worried for Renee as I have in the past.

As dinner comes to an end and I've hinted that we should probably get on the road, Raoul decides this is the time to ask me why I'm a skeptic about his work.

"I never said I was a skeptic," I insist, keeping my tone friendly. I mean, I thought it of course. But now he's a mind reader too?

"You didn't have to verbalize it. I can sense it."

"I'm not against it. I just don't know much about it," I shrug. "If that's your sole income though, keep doing you. Apparently it's working out."

"I do well for myself, yes." His smile is satisfied but not pompous. "Why don't you let me show you what I do?"

I swirl the wine in my glass. "How?"

"With energy healing."

I snort. "You have your work cut out for you."

"It only works if you're open to it," Renee chimes in.

Instead of telling them I'll pass, I reluctantly agree. I'm not trying to outright offend the dude, and maybe part of me is a little intrigued.

"Should I come with?" Edward offers.

"She'll be more in tune without you there," Raoul explains. "Distractions are no good—and you are most definitely a distraction to her."

Edward ignores him entirely. "Do you want me there?" he asks again, looking at me.

"It's okay," I tell him, giving him an I'm-sorry-I'm-leaving-you-alone-with-my-mom look.

We leave Renee and Edward at the dining room table and head downstairs to Raoul's office. The room is dim, calm. There are crystals everywhere, salt lamps glowing, and a flat padded table in the middle of the space.

"Please." He gestures toward the table, and I hop up. "Lie down. If you want to stop at any point, please say so." He busies himself in the corner of the room then returns with a bowl and a wooden striker. "I will honor your space with your need for healing." He holds the bowl above my stomach, running the wooden piece around the edge of the bowl to create a low, humming sound. It's actually quite nice, but I'm still slightly on edge.

"We're going to work on your heart center," he explains, setting the bowl down. "We will begin."

Raoul leaves his spot standing next to me to sit in the chair at the top of the table, behind my head. "Relax," he murmurs in a soothing voice. "Close your eyes." So I do. "Breathe." I do that, too.

The room is quiet—he's quiet. It takes a couple of minutes for me to feel comfortable, but eventually it happens. He places a palm to my forehead, telling me he'll begin working his way down. It's strange, but I try to relax and focus on my breathing. His hands hover over different parts of my body—my collarbone, my heart, my stomach. My eyes are closed for most of it, but sometimes I crack one open just to see what he's doing. Which isn't much. Eventually, I can sense his presence at the bottom of the table, and he announces he's done. I don't feel any different. Mostly just weirded out and slightly tired from having my eyes shut.

"You have built many walls."

"Tell me something I don't already know," I say dryly.

"They will only deteriorate if you put in the work. I can refer you to someone in Seattle if you'd like."

I swing my legs around and dangle them off the table. "I think I'm good."

"Would you like a reading before you go?"

"Sure, why not?"

I follow him across the room, and we sit side by side on the couch. Grabbing a deck of cards, Raoul taps them a few times with his index finger before shuffling. He cuts the cards into different piles then gathers them all together again, choosing three cards. He lies them face up on the coffee table in front of us.

"So…" I prompt.

"Yes?"

"If you see I'm gonna die soon, will you not tell me? I'd like it to be a surprise."

"It doesn't work like that," Raoul says, giving me a tiny smile. "These cards will provide guidance in your life. Not answers."

I stare down at the cards, not knowing what any of the pictures mean. Off the bat, though, none of them look particularly pleasant. Raoul picks up the first one. It has a man on a horse, six swords surrounding him.

"The Six of Wands," he murmurs, holding it in his hand for a few seconds. "This card can predict success or a promotion in your career."

I breathe a laugh through my nose. "Really? 'Cause I just quit my job," I tell him. Thoughts of Marcus offering me his position flash in my mind, but if that's the card's idea of a promotion, it can fuck right off.

The second card—a skeleton dressed in black armor, riding a white horse—is upside down.

"Death," he breathes out.

"Dude. What did I tell you about that?"

"It doesn't mean you will die. It typically represents the end of a cycle, a new beginning."

"Oh. Cool."

"Not in your case, though. You see, it was reversed or upside down. For you, it represents your fear of change. Stagnation."

"Wonderful," I grumble.

Raoul grabs the last card, hesitating. "The Tower."

I lean over him a bit, looking at it. There's a lot going on—a tower being struck by lightning, fire crawling out of the top, and two people falling from the windows.

"Looks promising," I say sarcastically.

"It's not. This signifies a break-up or an argument. A sudden upheaval, broken pride."

"An argument? Over what?"

"Only you will know the meaning behind it," he tells me vaguely.

"Okay. Well you basically just told me my life is shitty… or it will be. People pay you to feel like crap?"

Raoul clicks his tongue. "This is meant to guide you with your decisions. It doesn't give you answers. Now that you know what lingers in the future, you can work toward goals to manifest the change. Whether you want the cards to play out or not... that's up to you."

What a load of shit. I don't tell him as much, but my expression must be pretty easy to read.

"It's not for everyone," he says, putting the cards back into the deck. "That'll be five hundred dollars."

"What?" I balk.

"Joking, of course. Free for family. But if you'd like a second reading, it will be half-price."

I force a laugh, standing. "That first reading was pretty bleak. I think I'll pass."

"Suit yourself. Just know that I don't choose the cards—the cards choose you." He presses his palms together. "Please beware, though. The cards are rarely ever, if at all, wrong. Be compassionate toward the Universe. It only means well."

I appreciate his consistency to the craft. I mean, the guy really believes all of this. If I were emotionally compromised, I might believe all of it, too. Instead, I ignore his last little tidbit, not needing his bizarre pep talk or his phony insight into my future.

"We're so, so proud of you," Esme gushes, leaning over to kiss her son on the cheek.

"Mom. Come on."

"What?" She chuckles, ignoring his embarrassment. "You worked so hard. Appreciate the moment, and let us celebrate you."

The day after we got back to Seattle, Edward got the call offering him the job. Of course, he accepted it. It's what he's wanted the most, and we couldn't be happier for him.

"Maybe I'll move out there with you," Emmett announces. Rose and I both roll our eyes. "Might be time to get serious about my career."

"What career?" I tease.

"My reality TV career."

Everyone at the table erupts into laughter, including Em.

"When do they want you to start?" Carlisle asks Edward, grabbing a bottle of red wine and refilling his glass.

"January," Edward says, eyes shifting to me for a moment. "After graduation."

"What are you gonna do without him?" Emmett asks, poking fun at me this time.

"The same thing you're gonna do," I quip. "Cry every day."

This creates laughter too, but I'm not sure if it was a joke. Edward shoots me a soft smile, bringing his hand up to my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"If you're not leaving until January, then you'll be home for Christmas." Esme smiles. "Bella, Emmett, will y'all be joining us again this year?"

"It's not for a few more months," Carlisle chides. "Do we have to talk about Christmas right now?"

"Oh, shush." Esme waves him off. "I like to be prepared."

"You don't mind us crashing your holiday?" I ask, laughing lightly.

"Nonsense. The more the merrier," Esme says sweetly. "I love having you two over. So does Edward." She winks at me.

After dinner, I find myself in the kitchen, helping Esme clean up, while everyone else plays a competitive game of Scrabble. We small talk about this and that. She tells me about the current novel she's reading in her book club and how she's excited to see the movie when it comes out next month. When she asks if I'm reading anything, I tell her about the book I'd started reading on the trip back from LA.

She gives me a knowing smile. It takes me a second to realize why she has a questioning, but hopeful, look in her eyes, and then I catch on—she was unaware I went to LA with Edward… until now.

I know it doesn't really matter. We're adults; we're allowed to do adult things together. But I more or less just told her I'm banging her son. So yeah, I feel weird. And because I'm awkward as fuck, I don't say anything else to try to save the moment. Luckily it doesn't need saving because Esme, equipped with grace that can't be taught, merely says she's glad Edward is happy then carries on washing the dishes.

"I nearly forgot," she says, shutting off the water when the sink is empty. "I heard you reached out to Ben about the position at his startup."

I nod, smiling. "I did. I interviewed two days ago and was offered a position on the spot. I start next week. I'll be manning the front desk and taking online orders for now. He was really excited to hear about my following on Instagram and hinted that managing their social media accounts might be a possibility later on."

"That's wonderful!" She hugs me, smiling fondly when she lets go. "I'm so glad it worked out."

"I appreciate you setting all that up."

She waves me off. "I just gave you the information. They offered the job because of you. Be proud of yourself."

"Well, still." My chest feels funny, warm, and I decide to just take the compliment. "Thank you."

"I think you're gonna really like Ben," she muses, leaning against the counter with crossed arms. "He's really driven."

"Yeah, he seemed cool. Younger than I was expecting. How do you know him?"

"He's my friend Rita's son." She refills both our wine glasses, just as Edward walks into the kitchen. "I think you're gonna be in good hands with him."

"With who?" Edward asks, eyebrows raised as if he's jealous.

I roll my eyes. "Ben. My new boss."

"There's a lot to be celebrating tonight," Esme says, a twinkle in her eye. "New careers, new relationships."

I stay silent, and Edward looks over at me with a small, cheeky smile.

"Yeah, it's really great that Em finally found someone to put up with his antics," Edward offers.

Esme just smiles, pushing off the counter and grabbing her wine glass. "I'm gonna go play Scrabble. Grab dessert from the fridge, will you, Edward?"

When we're alone, he reaches out and hooks his finger around the belt loop on my jeans, pulling me against him. It's such a simple, sexy move that makes my insides flutter. I wrap my arms around his neck, and we kiss. It's deep, sexy, and accidentally turns into a full-blown make-out.

"Dessert," I whisper, pulling back.

He dips his head to kiss me again. It's quick, chaste. "You're my dessert." Another kiss.

"I'm not very sweet," I counter.

"So? That's my favorite part about you."

Even if what he just said is cheesy, I smile up at him, so charmed and intoxicated by the fact he has a soft side for me.

"Not that I don't like standing in your parents' kitchen making out, but what if someone comes looking for us?"

His hands slide over my ass before letting go. "Fine."

I hop up on the island while he gathers what he needs, taking a sip of my wine.

"So you told my mom we're together?" he casually asks.

"Not exactly. I accidentally mentioned being in LA. She's a smart woman, that one."

He smiles down at the silverware drawer, gathering six forks. "I see."

I watch him move around the kitchen, staring at his broad shoulders when he reaches up to grab plates from the cabinet. And then my gaze trails down, landing on his ass. Despite not really having much there, the one he has is still very nice, especially the way it looks in those jeans.

His smile is smug when he catches me staring. I'm not the least bit embarrassed that I look like the heart-eyes emoji right now. I keep my lustful gaze on him even as he walks to the fridge to grab the chocolate cream pie.

"Hey, Bella?"

"Yeah."

He sets the pie on the counter then nudges my knees open, standing between my legs. "When are we gonna make this thing official?"

My heart skips. "Official," I repeat, trying not to smile.

He swallows, gaze intent on my face. "Yeah. I just want to make sure you're mine."

"Of course I'm yours." I breath out a soft laugh as I stare down, pulling my eyes from his. "But you're moving."

"So?"

"Long-distance sounds appealing to you?"

When I look back up at him, his face is unreadable. "It sounds better than the alternative—not being with you." My heart does a little flip-flop again as his palms caress the sides of my thighs. "Look. I'll go to LA for one year. In the scheme of things, of life," he gives me a pointed look, repeating my words, "a year is a blip."

I stare at him affectionately. "Yeah, I guess."

"If my being gone doesn't work out, and we're both miserable after a year, I'll move back," he says adamantly.

"But this is your dream job. It's important to you."

"And you're—"

"Don't you dare say dream girl, or I'll slap you."

He smiles, eyes crinkling. "I was gonna say you're important to me, too."

I lean in to kiss him, wrapping my legs around his hips and pulling him closer. "I shouldn't be more important than your job, though."

"Why not? Besides, it's not like I'd quit. After a year, I could probably ask for a transfer."

What he's saying dawns on me, and I shake my head in disbelief.

"Edward Cullen," I say, drawing out his name. "Are you telling me your company has a freaking office in Seattle?"

He hesitates. "Yeah. They're all over the US."

I know there's nothing he can do about it now, but I still have to give him shit. "Why didn't you apply to the location here, dummy?"

"Because they didn't have my position available. And back when I applied for the job, I thought I might like a change. Before we were doing this." He leans his forehead against mine. "Before the thought of leaving you bummed me out."

"The thought of you leaving bums me out, too," I mumble, frowning. "Like… a lot."

"Then what's the problem?" He pulls back, forehead creasing a bit. "Don't you want to be my girlfriend?"

"I've just never really done the whole boyfriend thing before," I tell him honestly. I think back on my dating history, and yep, that's true. Renee's past with men kind of turned me off to intimacy, and my relationship with her kind of left me with a plethora of trust issues.

"You want to be with me, right?"

"Yes." I grab the back of his neck, playing with his hair. "This would be so different if you were staying in Seattle."

"Would it be different, or would you find an excuse? Because before you didn't want anything to happen because we're roommates. Now I'm moving away, and you're still hesitant." He smiles sadly. "I'm not really following, Bell."

I sigh, knowing I sound completely insane and inconsistent. "I'm just scared, okay?"

"Of what?"

I list off: "Being hurt. The distance being be too difficult. Getting my hopes up only to have them crushed. You finding someone else in LA who's better suited for you. Or just—"

"That's not gonna happen," he interrupts. "None of that will happen."

"How do you know?"

"Because it's us," he says seriously.

"Listen. It's great that you've had a healthy relationship to witness all these years, but trust me. If the roles were reversed, you'd be jaded too."

"I understand, but—"

"Do you?" I ask, because how could he? His parents have been consistent. They've been stable and he was able to grow up feeling safe and have all of his decisions backed up by love, turning him into this wonderful, well-rounded person. And here I am, second-guessing everything because I didn't have that support system. I had to wing it. And that didn't always work for me.

"I care about you so fucking much. Is that not enough?"

My lips part before pressing into a small smile. "I care about you, too."

His eyes narrow, but it's more playful than angry. "Are you really gonna do this to me?"

"What?"

"Make me beg," he says, lightly kissing me.

I release a soft laugh against his lips. "That's not what I'm trying to do."

With a sigh, he searches my face. "Bella."

"Yes?"

"Stop overthinking this and be with me. I'm all in, and I want you to be, too."

Dropping my head against his shoulder, I press a kiss to his neck. I can only fight him for so long, and really, I don't want to fight him on this. I want to be with him, of course I fucking do. I want him to be with him despite my fears and insecurities. But ultimately I know they'll always be there, lurking—waiting for the worst time to present themselves.

"You really wanna be with this Hot Mess Express?" I ask, face hidden within the nook of his shoulder.

"Well, when you put it that way…" he teases, voice low. "You're not gonna scare me away."

"If this goes sideways, I'm totally blaming you."

"It won't."

Sitting straight so we're face-to-face, my lips curl into a smile, giving him the okay.

"So?" he prompts, searching my face.

"Okay."

His face breaks out into the sweetest of smiles. "Yeah?"

My face mirrors his. "Yeah. Let's do it."

"Fucking finally!" Emmett roars, jumping out from around the corner. "It's about time, yah idiots."

I roll my eyes, laughing. But for once in his life, Em isn't entirely wrong.

"How long have you been standing there?" Edward asks.

"For like, the whole fucking thing," he blurts, grabbing the pie. "It was painful to watch, man."

"You're painful to watch," I counter, and Edward laughs.

Emmett sticks his middle finger in the pie then flips us off before walking out.

"He's disgusting," I mutter, fighting a smile.

"I know," Edward agrees.

"Think we can convince him to move in with Rose, so we can have the place to ourselves for the next few months?" I ask, hopeful.

"Doubtful. It's worth a shot, though. What about Alice?"

"Sometimes I'm convinced she's a ghost."

"So you believe in ghosts, but relationships scare you?"

"What can I say? I'm an enigma."

Edward leans in, pressing a sweet kiss to my mouth. "You're something else, that's for sure."

Hi, hello, thank you for reading. I'll update again next Friday—hope everyone has a wonderful holiday!

Thank you to Hadley for chatting with me laaaate night about this story. Her support is truly the best gift.