Epilogue

"Maybe happy endings are real, as long as you understand that they aren't endings, but steps on the road."
― Katharine McGee, The Towering Sky

Bella

The first few weeks were hard.

Even though he had Team Edward to help him and he now knew there were others around him whose lives are touched by epilepsy every day, Edward had a hard time letting go of his fears. He couldn't help it—he could feel the stares and hear the whispers of the few assholes who seemed to think he was a sideshow act, and his anxiety was through the roof. He had another seizure the first week and two the following week, and the last one was triggered by a panic attack to boot. At least for that one, I pulled him into an empty classroom, and no one saw anything. Small favor, but not exactly the kind you want to be grateful for.

But then, something amazing happened. After about a month, the extra attention directed toward Edward just stopped. I don't know if Tyler got to them, and Jasper has never admitted to any involvement, but something definitely changed. Maybe everyone just got used to what was happening. After all, how many times can you point and stare and call someone a freak before no one gives a shit anymore?

And that's when things got better. The seizures didn't stop, but he only had one or two a week, and sometimes he was lucky enough that they happened at home. The little seizures have never come back, and he still has seizures in his sleep—his seizure pattern had changed, but it stabilized. He stabilized.

Without the constant attention, Edward was able to focus on the people who really matter to him and to just ignore the occasional jackoff acting like he might shatter. I swear I could see a change in his posture—as if the weight of all the lies and the fear just lifted off him and left him able to stand tall again.

But the most important day of all was just a random Tuesday in October during our senior year when Edward came to school sporting a new piece of jewelry. Gone was his old medical bracelet with the very subtle caduceus in the corner—it was replaced by a black and brown braided bracelet with a black nameplate, displaying a large caduceus inside the star of life and the word "epilepsy" in bold white letters. That was the day I knew he'd finally made peace with who he was, epilepsy and all.

I startle and nearly drop my knife as the Game of Thrones theme blares from my phone—it's still Edward's ringtone, and I suspect it always will be.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Sasha and I are running a little late, but we should be home in ten."

"That works. I'm running late on dinner too."

"Okay, beautiful. See you soon."

Warmth flutters through my chest and I grin. I still melt when he calls me beautiful.

I wonder what held him up? His class was over forty-five minutes ago, and it usually only takes him fifteen to get home, even with Sasha.

I smile and shake my head—Sasha probably slowed him down. She's good at that, but I can't be upset about it. She's the apple of Edward's eye, and she's made such a difference in our lives, especially Edward's. There are times I feel almost jealous of her, but that's silly, isn't it?

By the time I finish the salad that goes with our fettuccine, Edward's key is jiggling in the lock, and he and Sasha come bounding through the door. He must have roughhoused with her out front for a bit because she playfully paws at him as he hangs up her leash—she clearly knows she's off-duty, as much as she ever is anyway.

As soon as he drops his bag and keys, he gives her the attention she's been begging for, ruffling her ears as she sits in front of him, tail thumping on the floor so hard I don't know how it doesn't hurt.

"Who's a good girl? Who's a good girl? That's right, you're a good girl!"

They are absolutely adorable together, and Edward loves her as much or even more than he depends on her. Sasha is the miracle we never even knew to hope for—a dog who can alert him to an oncoming seizure.

Team Edward was fantastic for high school, but as our senior year progressed and the frequency of his seizures settled to at least one a week, Edward started freaking out about how he could possibly go to college. Even if he and I went to the same university, unless we took all the same classes and I followed him into the men's room every day, there was no way he could manage to not be alone for some portion of the day. And that just wasn't a viable option given the sudden onset of his seizures. His watch would alert us, but if one of us was more than three minutes away, he could have bashed his head open on the sidewalk by the time we got to him, or worse, depending on where he was. No one was willing to take that risk given what happened after his concussion—status epilepticus and its aftermath was something Edward never wanted to experience again.

So, the research began. Edward already knew about service dogs that can help someone after a seizure, but it was never something he'd even considered because of the predictability of his seizures, and of course the fact that he'd kept them a secret. Showing up at high school with a service dog wouldn't have drawn any attention to him—noooo.

But now, it seemed like the best addition to his care plan—a dog could go to all his classes, the bathroom, everywhere with him without raising any eyebrows, and they could assist him in that critical time between the onset of a seizure and the arrival of qualified help. A service dog could be trained to draw attention to Edward or bring someone from nearby to help. They could alert someone to his condition by showing them his epilepsy bracelet during the aura when Edward is too deeply in the grip of terror to communicate effectively. And in the worst case, they could guard him during a seizure and act as a brace to try to prevent injury if no help was nearby.

It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was enough to offer him some independence from Team Edward and, hopefully, provide him with enough peace of mind to go it alone when he needed to.

What we got was so, so much more than that.

Carlisle researched a lot of service dog organizations, and we learned that among them, the debate rages about whether dogs can actually detect a change in a person's scent prior to a seizure and alert them. Some epileptics swear by it, some say that dogs can't alert for shit, but even the possibility that he could get his early warning system back had Edward eager to try. Even if a dog couldn't alert him, he'd still get all the assistance benefits, so what did it hurt to look for a dog who could?

Enter stage left Little Angels Service Dogs and Sasha. There were interviews and consultations. Then a customized training plan for the dog had to be constructed to meet Edward's needs, including training for alert capability. Then a contract and a big ass check because although Little Angels never asks anyone to pay for a dog, Carlisle covered the cost because he had the means. And then, we had to wait for a dog to be identified and trained—an activity that took six months, and that was only because Edward got a dog that had already begun its basic training. The training time for service dogs can be up to two years.

I'll never forget the day Edward met Sasha. Once she was ready, we had to go to San Diego to get her, and Edward had to stay there for two weeks at service dog training camp to learn how to work with her and get to know her. Carlisle and I flew down with him because he was nervous as hell, but I could tell the moment he saw her that his fears just fell away. Sasha is an English Cream Golden Retriever, and everything about her is just … warm and soft. Deep, brown, soulful eyes, creamy white fur, and the sweetest disposition I've ever seen in any animal. She walked right up to Edward, sat down in front of him, and put her paw on his leg. No one missed his sob of relief. It had taken so long, and he was so worried that this wouldn't work out, but Sasha just pushed all his fear away with one swipe of her little paw.

And then the miracle happened. Edward had two seizures the first week of training, and before the second one, Sasha started whining and pacing in front of him. This wasn't a behavior she'd displayed before, so the trainers noted it, but when Edward had a seizure twenty minutes later, they knew what was going on. The following week, the same thing happened, and Edward was over the moon—Sasha could give him twenty minutes' warning of an oncoming seizure.

To say Sasha changed our lives would be a gross understatement. Since August, I've watched the two of them bond and Edward gain a confidence I haven't seen since I first met him, but even better because there are no lies weighing him down. We both started at the University of Washington in September, and Edward and Sasha attend classes on their own, but Emmett and I are within twenty minutes' walk of Edward at all times, in case he needs us.

Now that he's gotten his class schedule down, Edward and Sasha have been working to identify safe spaces where they can go if he can't get home before a seizure, and that seems to have boosted his confidence even more. Edward is honestly as happy as I've ever seen him.

Warm arms surround me from behind, and his lips at my neck send a shiver down my spine.

"And how's my other good girl?"

How in the hell does he make those fireworks explode in my chest every. Damn. Time? I melt back against him, eyes closed and chin raised, and his lips caress and explore just like I knew they would. God, I love this boy and the man that he's becoming—right before my very eager eyes.

I miss his lips the minute they're gone, and he doesn't seem to notice that I almost fall over backward when he slides away to steal a carrot from the salad.

He looks downright sexy today in his blue Huskies t-shirt and jeans—he's grown almost two inches since the end of our junior year and filled out in all the right places. I believe I have Jasper to thank for that. Once he knew everything, he and Edward became thick as thieves again, working out together and even playing some pickup games, although Edward never felt comfortable enough to don a jersey for Forks High. But that's in the past, and he's happy now, and Alice and Jazz are coming up from Tacoma to visit this weekend.

"Hey, salad stealer! That's my carrot!" I scold him, but he sidesteps me before I can grab his arm.

His grin is pure mischief. "It's mine now, and besides, I'm an equal opportunity vegetation thief. I believe I took your cherry a while back."

Now that thought sends warmth and tingles to a few places and a smirk to my lips. "That carrot is definitely yours," I tell him, appraising it as if it's his manhood, "but I believe I got your cherry too!"

"Mmm … yes. I will never forget that. Maybe we could bone up on our thievery skills again soon."

He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and I dissolve into laughter. "Boys. Your bone is all you think about."

"Who's getting boned?" Emmett asks as he breezes into the kitchen, stealing another one of my carrots. I should have known thievery ran in the family.

"Um … I think we're the ones who are going to get it if we don't get the fuck out of the kitchen and let Bella finish dinner," Edward tells Emmett, correctly interpreting my glare.

"Sorry, B," Em says, crunching noisily, and the two of them beat a hasty retreat over to the couch.

Edward's condition got him out of having to live in the dorms, so he and Emmett got an apartment together just off campus. I store my stuff in a dorm room a short walk from here, but it's only for show when Charlie visits. I hate to have him waste the money, but he was adamant that Edward and I not live together our first year so I could "make friends". Well, I'm doing fine in the friend department, and Edward and I are counting the months until this officially becomes my home too. Besides, how would these "bone" heads eat anything but ramen and takeout without a woman around the house?

Dinner is the usual raucous affair with the boys shifting topics from sports to classes to the hot girl who lives upstairs whom Em is trying to get up the courage to talk to. Kate is nice, and she's a bit sweet on Em too, but I think I'll let him suffer for a bit longer.

Em was thrilled when Edward and I chose UDub for school, and he jumped at the chance to share a place with Edward when the opportunity arose. It was awful for Emmett the year before when he left for college. It was supposed to be an exciting time for him, but he felt like he was abandoning Edward. I can see how happy he is that he's able to help again, and the brothers have become even closer, if that's possible.

After dinner, it's homework time because we are in college after all, so I lounge on the couch, reading a novel for English Lit, while Edward sits at the table and works on something for his Music Theory class. He's exploring the idea of double majoring in Behavioral Science and music, with the goal of studying how playing music affects the brains of people with seizure disorders and maybe even developing a program that will help ease their symptoms. It's a lofty goal, but Edward's been there and done that, so who better to help others in the same boat?

As for me, I have no clue what I'm doing here. I'm working on my gen eds and waiting for inspiration to strike. Maybe I can find a way to help Edward with his idea. Who knows?

My first sign that homework time is over is the sound of Edward's book closing. Sasha is curled up at his feet, and I see her ears perk, but she doesn't even open her eyes as Edward gets up and makes his way over to the couch. He's still close enough for her to keep an eye on, and she's got to be pretty used to this by now.

Edward kneels on the floor beside me, cozying up as if he's going to read over my shoulder. I work hard to contain my smile as he nuzzles his chin into my chest and drapes an arm around me, but it's basically a losing battle. So I grin and ignore him, even though his breath is tickling my chest, and his warmth is all around me, setting certain parts on high alert and others into overdrive. Damn sexy bastard!

Then, Edward really begins in earnest. His other hand creeps under my shirt, settling on my stomach and rubbing gentle circles there, as if he's debating which direction he wants to go. I shift my glance to his face, but it's expressionless—as if he's completely focused on reading and not about to molest me—the only giveaway to his mischief is that I can feel his heart beating rapidly against my shoulder.

His path north is blocked by my book, so he heads south, slipping his hand into my sweats and giving me goosebumps as he slides over all the sensitive spots, landing with one finger poised at the top of my slit. I can't help my rapid intake of breath, but I keep reading as that finger ventures on, sliding between my lower lips and rubbing until it's drenched, and everything down there feels smooth and wet and so very warm.

I spread my legs to give him better access, but I'm still trying to maintain the charade that I'm reading, even though I've gone over the same sentence three times, and my left brain is merrily debating my right over how hard Edward is right now.

Two things happen at once, and I'm done for—Edward thrusts a finger inside me just as his lips begin worshipping my neck, and I throw my head back with a low moan as I bend my knees. My book falls from my suddenly nerveless fingers, and Edward snickers in between thrusts and kisses, adding a second finger as mine scrabble against the couch cushions for purchase.

He tosses the book as he rises up on his knees, pulling my lips to his as he continues to thrust those talented fingers into me. They curl and brush that oh-so-sensitive spot as I push and writhe against his palm, rubbing my clit against the fantastic frictional surface he's provided.

The heat builds between my legs and flares upward as Edward's tongue enters my mouth, and I cling to him, one hand buried in his hair and the other digging nails into his back. He brings me closer and closer to the edge, but I don't go over until he moans deeply into my mouth, unable to contain his own pleasure as he rubs himself against the front of the couch.

Oh, fuck, Edward orgasms are amazing, is the only thought I can hold on to as I pulse and quiver, panting his name into his chest as he pulls me close to ride out my high.

When I can breathe again, I open my eyes lazily, and his smiling, smug-as-hell face fills my vision.

"Hi, Bella. How's your book?"

Cheeky, cheeky boy!

"I just got to the sex scene apparently. You. Bedroom. Now."

He tries to look innocent, so I run a hand over his crotch and he hisses, rubbing up and down until I pull my hand away, making him whine in his throat.

"Oh, that sex scene. Why didn't you say so?"

I roll my eyes and give him a shove, hard enough to make him catch himself with his hand but not enough to knock him over. He's on his feet in a flash, and Sasha is too because she knows what comes next, and she's not gonna like it.

She beats us to the bedroom, and when we arrive, she's curled up on the bed, head down between her paws and giving us the saddest eyes. But if I ever decide I want a threesome, it's not gonna be with a dog, so Sasha just needs to suck it up and deal. Or at least, that's what I thought until today.

Edward hangs back by the door, giving me a sheepish look. I have a sneaking suspicion what's coming, and I'm not gonna like it.

"I talked to Robin today, and she said Sasha's pacing and barking when she's in her crate are definitely signs of separation anxiety. She suggested I don't crate her for a week or two and see if she calms down."

"Even when we're …" I give a rough approximation with a gesture, and Edward nods his head.

My face must be doing something because Edward comes toward me, arms outstretched and eyes pleading.

"She's been so good lately. I'm sure she'll just lie on the floor, and we won't even know she's there. I don't like it either, but I hate the thought that I'm hurting her by keeping her away. She does so much to help me."

I love Sasha. I really do. She's given Edward his independence back, and she's become the baby in our little pseudo-family—she's been with him every minute since San Diego, except when we're intimate. We've kept that time as just ours, and we've been putting her in her crate, but she's become increasingly agitated—so much so that Edward felt it was necessary to call Robin, her trainer, to find out what our options are.

Apparently, our option is to let her join us. No big deal, right?

Oh, bloody hell, I am about to have a threesome with a dog.

"Edward—"

"Let's just try it, all right?" he asks, taking me into his arms. "If it's too weird, we'll come up with something else."

"Like?"

"I don't know. I'm sure this won't be an issue when we have our own place and can leave the bedroom door open. Sasha's not interested in watching us have sex—she just doesn't want to be kept away from me."

"Are you sure?"

"Bella," Edward whines, and between that and the damn puppy dog eyes, I know I'm not going to win here. The irony that they're both giving me the same look isn't lost on me.

"Fine," I huff as Edward gathers me into his arms; he grunts softly when his dick comes into contact with my thigh. He's still hard as a rock—the thought of his new best friend watching us fuck isn't even a slight turn-off for him. I guess that honor only applies to elder female family members … or my dad.

Before things can heat back up, Edward backs away from me and walks to the other side of the bed. He fixes Sasha with a serious look, points to the floor, and says, "Down," in a commanding voice.

Sasha doesn't flinch, but she obeys immediately, taking up the same position on the floor at his feet.

Edward bends down in front of her, and I have to stand on my tip-toes to see him cradle her head and talk to her, nose to nose.

"You don't have to leave, but you've got to be a good girl and stay on the floor, okay? Don't let me down."

Sasha stares at him solemnly, and the warm, gooey feeling in my chest has nothing to do with the anticipation of sex. Someday, we'll have kids, and I can see just from the way he is with Sasha that Edward will be an incredible father. I can't wait to watch those chapters of our life unfold. But this chapter comes with lots of happy endings and no bundles of joy—just a sexy boy and his canine voyeur.

Edward stands before me again, and I forget all about dogs and babies as he takes my face in his hands and plunders my mouth with his tongue. My arms curl around the backs of his shoulders, pulling him closer until his deep hum of pleasure lets me know I'm putting enough pressure in just the right place.

He rubs against me, his arms shimmying down to reach the buttons of my flannel, exposing my chest so he can put his lips every-fucking-where. I roll my head back, panting as he lavishes my breasts with soft nips and open-mouth kisses, working his way around until he sucks a peaked nipple into his mouth. I moan shamelessly as he sucks, feeling the pull rocket down between my legs, and I hold on to him tighter as my knees seem to turn to jelly.

The sound flips a switch in Edward because, suddenly, I have no shirt on, my sweats and undies are around my knees, and he's moving me toward the bed.

"Oh, no, you're not getting on the bed like that," I pant, eye-fucking every inch of him from his fantastic sex hair all the way down to his adorable socked feet.

His t-shirt is over his head in a flash, but I go for the jeans, pressing this way and that just to hear him moan as I slowly unbutton each button until he growls and shoves them down over his hips.

I hear the jingle of a dog collar, but I can't see Sasha, so I continue on, sliding his boxers down and listening to him hiss as his erection springs free. My hand is on him instantly, rubbing and stroking as he struggles to step out of his pants, not giving him a second free of pleasure to allow him to focus on the task.

He nearly topples over, so I cut him a break and ease off to allow us both to get naked, but as soon as all the clothing is on the floor, I pounce on him, pushing him down on his back and covering his body with mine.

I writhe against him as I thrust my tongue into his mouth, and his hands find purchase on my ass cheeks, squeezing and kneading as we fuck with our tongues. It feels fantastic, but Edward is grinding my hips against his and I can tell from his groans into my mouth that he's gonna come pretty quickly if I don't slow things down.

So I pull back a little bit and shift my body to his side, but his whimper ends in a pant when I pull his earlobe into my mouth and suck, curling my tongue into that spot just behind the shell that drives him wild. He tries to turn on his side but I stop him, straddling his waist just above his dick and smothering his neck with kisses.

"Oh, fuck, Bella," he mutters, giving up his bid for dominance and going limp on the bed, arms spread and chin lifted high to give me all the access I need.

I work on his neck until he's squirming beneath me, then I slide lower, spreading his legs so I can kneel between them as I lavish his chest with equal attention.

He knows my ultimate destination—I can see the lust and desire in his eyes just before I swirl my tongue over his nipple.

"Ahh … keep going."

I don't know if he means toward his dick or with this nipple, so I switch sides and lick and suck until he's pushing downward on my shoulders, unable to keep still in anticipation.

Greedy, bossy boy.

But he knows how that shit turns me on.

His ab muscles are tight as I kiss my way down to his waist, but they spasm as I kiss lower and lower—until my chin brushes against the tip of his cock.

"Let me suck your cock, Edward," I say as I level him with my stare, and his dick twitches hard in response.

"Oh, God, please, Bella."

His eyes are desperation and heat, but mine are lust and satisfaction as I take him all the way in, his tip brushing the back of my throat.

His groan is low and deep, making all the right places tingle as I suck my way back up to his tip, swirling my tongue around the head when I get there. The sound I hear is more of a whimper this time, and it's followed by a jingle and half a bark.

I pretend I didn't hear anyone but Edward, and I repeat the maneuver that led to my recent crowning as the "goddess of head", the suck-and-swirl, until he's moaning on every suck and bucking his dick into my mouth. His hands are buried in my hair, but when I cup his balls, one hand disappears, and …

"Oh, Christ!"

I'm smug for a second until I hear, "Down, Sasha!"

I open my eyes and look up to see Edward's arm stretched out and his fingers flailing … in front of Sasha's nose and paws that are perched on the edge of the bed, an inch from his reach.

Oh, hell no! There isn't a creature alive that can distract a man from my blowjobs!

So I redouble my efforts until Edward's writhing, Sasha's whining, and I'm desperate for something to fucking give … or, give way to fucking because that's exactly what happens.

One minute, I've got his dick in my mouth, and the next, I'm on my back with Edward hovering over me, his gaze desperate and hungry. I give half a nod, and that's all he needs to plunge in to the hilt, making us both cry out in pleasure. He wastes no time, angling his thrusts to hit my clit with his pelvis because he's got to be oh-so-close after the fantastic fellatio I gave him—that or he thinks Sasha is going to jump on us before we get to finish.

Speaking of Sasha, she's now on her feet with her paws stretched across the bed, staring at us as if she's trying to determine if Edward is in danger. For his part, Edward's doing his best to ignore her, eyes closed as he works to bring us to orgasm.

He loses his rhythm, thrusting harder as he begins to grunt every time he hits my pelvis, and Sasha starts to whimper after every sound he makes. I can't pay attention to that now, though, because I can feel my own build starting, the sensation winding tighter and tighter every time Edward makes contact.

"Edward, Edward!"

As I pulse around him, Edward's whimpers turn to moans, and Sasha is half-barking again, but I'm still too lost in my own pleasure to see or care what she's doing. Seeing Edward come is one of life's true pleasures, so I open my eyes as soon as I can to watch my favorite show.

Edward is thrusting in earnest, eyes closed with a sheen of sweat on his brow, and his moans are crescendoing just like a fucking porn star—he's seconds from the big finish. I can pinpoint the exact instant he starts to come and, apparently, so can Sasha because the air is punctuated by a soulful howl.

Oh, my God, she fucking howled. We've never heard her howl before—even when Edward has a seizure, she doesn't fucking howl.

My attention snaps back to Edward as he falls forward, laying his head on the side of my chest like he usually does, but his breathing's not right. He's not panting, he's … laughing?

He turns to face me, and yes, he's definitely laughing. Quite hysterically, in fact.

I shove him, and he rolls in Sasha's direction, and as soon as he's flat on his back, her paws are on his chest, and she's licking his neck and face.

Goddammit, that's my fucking post-coital bliss! Take a walk, Sasha!

Edward pets her head roughly. "I'm fine. I'm fine! I promise! Now will you let me go back to Bella before she kills us both? Down, girl."

Sasha resumes her position on the floor with a thump, and I want to be angry so badly but I just fucking can't. She howled when Edward had his orgasm, and I swear she was ready to jump between us if she thought for a second that I was truly hurting him. Now that's dedication.

Edward rolls so his back is to Sasha—naked, sweaty, and flushed from exertion and embarrassment.

"Um … was it good for you?" he asks, face puckered and already bracing for my wrath.

When I pull him in for a kiss, he obliges but pulls back after a moment in confusion.

"You're not mad?"

"Well, I'm not happy, but at least, I know one thing."

"What's that?"

"You'll never be able to cheat on me because I'll be able to hear that howl no matter where you are."

"Oh, fuck," Edward mutters, but I just kiss him some more. Secrets are a thing of our past, but howlingly good sex is our future.


I hope you enjoyed this peek into the future. I think there are lots of good things ahead for these two.

Thank you all for your continued support of me and this story! Skin Deep was voted the top fic completed in November 2019 over at TwiFanFictionRecs and placed 8th in the Top Ten for the whole year of 2019! I can't tell you how happy both of these honors made me!

Now, it's time for the TwiFic Fandom Awards. Skin Deep made it to round 2 in 5 categories and Come Back Tomorrow is a contender in 2 categories. Google it and go vote this week—for me, for any of the other fantastic stories that are nominated—supporting our wonderful writers is what keeps this fandom alive and well!

Thank you again for your reviews, for your friendship, and for making me feel like I'm doing something worthwhile here. There will be more stories in the future—you can count on it!