A/N for 2019-08-18: I'll begin with a reading recommendation: I'm currently working through Prelude in C by AllTheOtherNamesAreUsed. It's marvelous and criminally under-reviewed (and my beta's "favorite canon Twilight fanfic of all time"). It explores the Cullens' origin story, beginning with Carlisle and Edward, and then Esme. The prose is solid to begin with, with some really nice stylistic development as it goes on. The real gem in this story is the depth to which the characters are explored. I haven't finished it yet, but I'm treating myself to a few chapters every day.
As always, I direct my heartfelt thanks to Eeyorefan12 for not only her excellent editing skills, but for her incredible insights when it comes to these characters and their development.
Just a heads up, this chapter does make reference to Romeo & Juliet, Act 1, Scene 5.
I think you'll rather enjoy this lengthy chapter, and I look forward to hearing your reactions.
~ Erin
"If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."
Romeo & Juliet, Act 1:5
They were lying in bed, enjoying the kindness of a slow Saturday morning. It had been almost ten days since they'd come back together, and Edward had barely left her side, only disappearing when she went to work.
Bella put down her well-marked copy of Romeo & Juliet, her new sticky note stuck between the pages. She kept a stack of books by the bed, pen and paper on hand for those middle-of-the-night inspirations that wanted recording. This one had struck her just as she'd woken up.
Edward picked the book up from where she'd put it down, flipping through a few pages. "I do not understand what compels the modern school system to make children suffer through this mangled notion of a love story."
Bella arched an eyebrow at him. "They don't. I just happen to like it."
He made a good imitation of a cough, looking appropriately abashed. "Right."
She smiled a little coyly at him. "It's also the play assigned to this grade at my school, and there aren't any others in the book room."
"I forgive you your literary choices then, Ms. Hamilton," Edward said, leaning in to kiss her.
"Oh really?" She smiled. She treasured the appearance of this playful Edward. She hadn't seen so much of him since they'd been together again.
"Really. Romeo was an idiot. Trust me. Takes one to know one."
Bella laughed. "How can you say that? You don't even rank on the scale that would measure Romeo's idiocy."
He made a sound that was too bitter to be a laugh. "I really wish I could say so." He weighed the book in his hand. "This tragedy has too many parallels for me to be comfortable dismissing its lessons."
Bella watched all the levity leave his face, her own expression falling with it.
"I'm terrified, Bella, that I'll be like Romeo and tempt fate, and that you or the people you love will pay the price of my arrogance."
"And what is this arrogance?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"Do you really have to ask?"
"Humour me."
He blew out a breath. "Thinking that I can cheat the Volturi of their rules, or Victoria of her vengeance. That I can offer you and your children a life worthy of what you deserve."
The latter items she had few qualms about. Certainly there were logistical difficulties, but they could surmount those. The Cullens had mastered the art of passing as a human family for decades, after all, and could assist with any subterfuge required. The Volturi and Victoria, though. Her heart stuttered. He was right. Those were concerns not easily dismissed. When she spoke, it was slowly. "There are no guarantees in life. I am willing to take the happiness we have now, knowing there is a small chance of disaster—and there is always a chance of disaster. Because if we were apart, there would be far greater chance of it." She paused for a bit, feeling herself falling into her old habit of chewing on her lip. She'd worked hard to avoid doing it, wanting to keep at least this small sign of her anxiety secret from the psychiatrists who continually prodded her with questions. "You were so worried before, so afraid, when we were younger, but now—"
"Like I said, I have more in common with Romeo than I care to. He was a fool, and I may be one myself. Only he had no idea how many people he'd drag to the grave with him."
"First of all, you are not a fool, and Romeo didn't have six incredibly wise and wily vampires on his side. I also don't think you believe in fate, Edward. You wouldn't be fighting so hard for us if you did. We are meant to be together because we love each other. We've proven that time and time again."
"That," he said, cupping her cheek with his hand, "I do not doubt."
"Well, good," she said, letting a small smile blossom. "But you do get your fair share of moodiness." She covered her eyes, giggling, when Edward sat up quickly and pretended to reach for the pillow. When no attack was forthcoming, she dared to uncover her eyes and peeked up to see him just grinning at her. She reached for his hand and he readily placed it in hers. "However, you are also incredibly romantic, and faithful, things you beat Romeo by in spades."
"Finally. Something good from that rotten play."
Bella scoffed at this opinion, but Edward didn't let her continue.
"I would also say that I worship at the shrine of you far better than Romeo ever did with Juliet." He leaned over and kissed her more passionately, fingers lacing into her hair.
It was the final match to the kindling of her desire.
She cleared her throat. "So, where would you go, pilgrim?" she asked.
"I would give you a holy kiss," he murmured, pressing closer and doing just that.
"And leave me with the sin of your lips?" she quipped, accepting and returning the gesture.
"Well then, give me my sin again," he breathed, one hand still in her hair, the other sliding down to her hip.
"Gladly," she murmured, digging her fingers into his pyjama waistband. "But maybe you can lock the door, first?" It was early, but not so early that she wanted to risk being interrupted.
"They're soundly asleep," he mumbled, but got up and was back to her in a moment, door firmly shut, the click of the lock an audible reassurance.
When she began to lift off her shirt, he stopped her with a quiet, "No, let me. Please." Then he smiled. "Such a shrine deserves a reverent litany."
He lifted the hem by degrees, fingers trailing over the silvery ripples in her flesh where stretch marks had receded, teasing at the soft indentation of her navel. All this was accompanied by continuous planting of soft kisses at her lips.
She shivered when he reached the underside of her breasts, her breathing shallow and rapid. Then he slipped the whole shirt over her head.
Bella held her breath, realizing she was waiting for his judgement.
But there was none.
Instead, Edward cradled the small swelling at her abdomen, feathering his fingers out over her ribs, then brushed his thumbs by her nipples. "And such a shrine, and I the lucky pilgrim," he whispered, almost to himself.
Her laughter was soft. "Does that mean there's an offering?"
"Oh yes," he murmured, lips trailing to her breasts. "My touch, my body, my worldly goods—everything over which I may exert some speck of control. This, and all my hopes, I offer you."
"Sounds good to me," Bella gasped, as his lips closed over her sensitive nipple.
There were fewer words then.
Bella's fingers were more frantic over Edward's clothes, lifting and yanking without ceremony.
"Oh God, I want you." She was having trouble getting enough air, his kisses and touch making her body ache with need—ache in ways it never had with her husband.
Edward didn't waste time with speech, letting one hand slide downwards, finding its sensitive mark below her navel.
Multiple muscles spasmed, Bella's vocal sounds guttural and wild. She wanted to touch him, to make him feel like he was making her feel, but she was afraid he'd pull away, so she let her hands try to knead the stony flesh at his hips.
"I want you," she managed to say again. "Please. Now."
Then there was a quiet voice at the door, as the handle rattled.
Both of them froze.
"Mommy," Meredith sniffled, voice muffled. "I peed my bed."
After a moment, Bella managed a strangled, "Okay, honey, just give me a sec." Then she closed her eyes with the quietest of moans.
Edward let out a long breath.
"You okay?" she asked, turning to look at him His gaze was focused on the ceiling but she could still see the dark hunger in his eyes and the tight clench of his jaw.
"Yes." he finally replied. It sounded slightly strained. "I'm sorry. I should've heard her coming."
Bella couldn't help but smile in sympathy, pulling her shirt back on. "Welcome to parenthood."
He closed his eyes and sighed. "Want me to take care of her bedding?"
"Please. I'll clean up Mer."
When they came back together, it was downstairs in the kitchen. Edward had brought Joshua down and her son was babbling away in indecipherable syllables, approximating the intonation of multiple informative statements.
Edward was answering in complete sentences, understanding the thoughts that were behind Josh's utterances. How she envied him even in her gratitude.
"Omelette, anyone?" Edward asked.
"Yecch," Mer said, seconded by Joshua, who stuck out his tongue.
"Hmm," Edward tried again. "Let me guess. Waffles with strawberries?"
"Yes, please!" Mer said, with much more enthusiasm.
When all those interested in the consumption of human food had eaten, Edward leaned over to Bella, and whispered, "I don't think I've ever longed for their bedtime quite so much."
Bella laughed at his somewhat bewildered expression, folding over herself with her arms across her middle, unable to stop her uncontrollable giggles.
"What?" Edward asked.
"Oh," she tried, waving her hand back and forth in front of her face. "It's just—" she collapsed into a fit of hilarity again. "This is the epitome of parenthood. Your life, interrupted by the many—and often inconvenient needs of small people. I just never expected to see you as a parental figure, and now—"
He nuzzled at her neck. "And now?" he asked gently.
Her feelings settled as her eyes met his. "It's really beautiful."
On cue, Josh reappeared, asking hopefully, "Swimming?" After Edward had taken both children to the local pool one day after daycare, his status had been elevated to the near-deific.
Bella liked swimming as much as the next person, but managing an excited, overstimulated, or God forbid, unhappy Josh in a tiled changing room bordered on the audibly traumatic.
"I think we can do that." He looked at Bella for confirmation.
"Sure," she said, eyeing him thoughtfully as she pictured him in a swimsuit. And then with nothing on. Edward turned back to the kids, then, but not before she caught a brief, somewhat secretive smile on his face. She didn't have time to wonder about it.
They walked to the pool, Edward saddled with a backpack, and Josh riding on his shoulders. Despite the day's mild spring temperature, the sky was obscured by a thick blanket of wooly grey. The lack of rain left them free to enjoy the walk through the neighbourhood's lush greenery.
Bella had suggested the stroller, but Josh had put his foot down—literally—"No!" he'd said, emphasizing this with a derogatory, "Babies!" and folding his arms.
"Right," Bella had conceded.
Now she looked at Edward. "I can carry something, you know."
"I'm fine," Edward said, smiling at her briefly, then going back to lightly tickling Josh's feet, which were dangling over his shoulders.
"Edward," she tried again, grasping his arm as they ambled along. "I like doing things that are useful."
Edward paused, helping Josh down and onto one of the several swings that hung from the boulevard trees. He glanced at Bella, but mostly kept his eyes on Josh. He'd already learned the hard way that one's full attention—vampire or human—was required to keep Bella's youngest safe. "I'm listening," he said softly.
Bella considered how best to phrase this so that it was effective. "People will notice us—and you—more, if you do everything."
She watched his shoulders tense a little. "I would feel like a complete . . . cad, if I handed you the backpack."
Bella put a hand to her mouth, attempting to stifle her laugh. He was so cute sometimes. "A cad, huh?"
"Mm," he said, taking Josh's hand as he slipped off the swing.
"Run!" Josh announced, and then bolted, Edward taking off after him.
"Though you're welcome to keep all the running to yourself," Bella mumbled after him. She really didn't miss sprinting and rubbed her lower abdomen absent-mindedly. There'd been a few familiar twinges, which she knew would eventually blossom into the regular but manageable discomfort of round ligament pain.
Edward caught Josh easily, rewarding him with several squeal-filled throws into the air.
"Yeah, not attracting attention at all," Bella called.
"I see other dads do this all the time," Edward countered, as she approached them.
Her sharp inhale matched his as his choice of words just hung there in the air between them. Her eyes lifted to his face, his expression tight with uncertainty, and she smiled to soothe him. She was going to say she liked the sound of the word, 'Dad' from his lips, when Meredith piped up.
"You're not our Dad." Her little forehead was scrunched up, and if she hadn't been so serious, Bella would've smiled to see what Matt used to call 'Mommy's fierce face' on her daughter's features.
Edward beat Bella to answering. "You're right, I'm not, Mer," he said, crouching down in front of her with Josh still in his arms. "But I love your mother very much, and you and Joshua too."
Mer didn't seem sure how to answer this, and Bella didn't want to rob Edward of an opportunity to meet the high bar of Meredith's expectations. Her eldest had fallen head over heels in love with Alice, who had earned the occasional 'Aunt' stuck in front of her name. Edward, however, had been met with acceptance that bordered on the begrudging at times. Now was obviously one of those times.
"That still doesn't make you my Dad," she huffed, and then turned and began walking towards the pool, her arms firmly crossed. The loose straps on her back-pack—an "old" one of Alice's that still had tags on it the day it had materialized—flounced up and down, keeping time with her angry steps.
"Just give her a few minutes," Bella said, touching Edward's arm.
"I am," he said thoughtfully, gazing after Meredith and no doubt using his gift to assess her true thoughts on the matter. Bella took advantage of his distraction and opened the backpack before he threw back a hand to meet hers.
"Hold your horses there, Mr. Chivalry." she said, laughing.
"Do you need something from the bag?" His teasing tone did not hide the warning underneath.
"Yes, something to carry," she answered, snatching two towels before he pulled away.
Edward crossed his arms and pretended to give her a dirty look.
"Oh, you save that for after bedtime," she said, winking and slinging the towels over her shoulder.
She didn't look back, his hissed-in breath confirmation of the effect she'd had on him. As she walked away, she bit her lip in anticipation, not surprised when his hands materialized at her hips and his lips at her ear.
"I'm counting the minutes," he whispered, and then took off after Josh again.
Meredith had recovered her good mood by the time they got to the community pools, and the four of them enjoyed a solid hour of playing in the shallower of the two. Bella and Edward had to constantly remind Josh to keep his voice down. Bella was feeling mildly apprehensive by the time they settled into the hot-tub, worried at the wear on their fellow pool-goers' good will.
She supposed she should have anticipated Edward's accusatory look when she slipped her whole self into the hot water. She watched his jaw twitch, as he obviously wrestled with the two sides of the line he straddled—doctor and fiancé.
It gave her a shiver of pleasure, each time she thought of that word.
Edward's next words indicated a clear medical landing. He gave the smallest shake of his head. "The heat isn't good for the baby."
Bella was opening her mouth to assure him she would keep her time in the hot water short when one of the other pool patrons spoke up.
"You're a lucky man." The elderly man's voice was coloured with a heavy Italian accent. He nodded towards Meredith and Josh. "So many children." Then he looked at Bella's midsection and smiled kindly.
"He's not my Dad," Meredith announced, pouting. And then, because her children never seemed to want to spare her any embarrassment, announced loudly, "They're not married."
It felt like everyone in the hot tub turned to stare at Bella, heat that didn't come from the water blossoming in her cheeks.
"No, we're not married yet, but we're engaged," Edward answered Meredith. "That means we're going to get married." He was studying her daughter's face intently. Bella wondered what he was hearing.
She held her breath.
"You are?" Mer asked.
Bella waited for the explosion. Of all the places, in public, with walls that would let the sound ricochet.
But none came. Instead, there was a smattering of applause around them, the word, 'Bravo' interspersed with other linguistic expressions seeming to indicate good will.
"Are you really, Mommy?" Meredith asked, sidling closer, all offense apparently forgotten.
"Yes, sweetie," she said, pausing to smile at the two elderly women who passed by up the tub stairs with soft pats on her shoulder and more words Bella didn't understand.
"Will you wear a wedding dress?" Meredith's eyes grew wide at the thought. "Like a princess?" She asked reverently.
Bella chuckled. Yes, that would draw Mer's attention. "We hadn't really gotten that far in planning," she admitted, catching Edward's eye. He looked slightly nervous.
"I'm good," she mouthed to him, and watched his face relax.
Meredith kept asking questions about what this engagement—and more importantly, what the wedding would mean, but Bella was watching the very quiet conversation unfolding between Josh and Edward. Edward was whispering to him, and while most of it was lost amid the noise of the pool, she caught the words, "Yes, this means I stay. Forever."
Forever. Not quite as she'd once imagined it, but she'd take every moment this life would let her have.
The walk home was quiet, the kids clearly exhausted from the day's activities and, in Meredith's case, the excitement of their unintentional announcement. Josh was asleep on Edward's shoulder most of the way to the house but he woke up once they got there. Bella was secretly relieved. She suspected there would be no arguing about going to bed on time tonight.
Bella didn't think she'd ever been so impatient for her children's bedtime. When it finally arrived, she was wound up with anticipation and nerves.
"Are they really asleep?" she asked, sitting on the couch, pretending to mark papers. She'd been staring at the same one for ten minutes, the awkward prose as incomprehensible as when she'd begun.
"Yes," he said, looking up from the book she was pretty sure he was also pretending to read.
She stared at the lined pages in front of her for a few more minutes, trying to remember how things should go from here to . . . where she wanted them to go. Everything between them had felt so natural in the morning, but tonight, it was like trying to resurrect a language she'd once spoken fluently, that now fell wooden and splintered from her lips.
Putting her papers aside, she reached out a hand, running her fingertip down the seam of Edward's shirt. He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly.
Maybe not so long forgotten.
His book dropped to the floor, and she found herself being pulled towards him, the air from her last breath locked inside by the compression of their lips.
Between kisses, she gasped in another breath out of necessity, and then one more in pleasure when he transferred his mouth to her neck.
No, not forgotten.
And because the upstairs felt so far away, and far too close to her children, she found herself mumbling, "The guest room door locks," into his hair, pulling in breaths between words as his hands pressed against her lower back, and then slid down to cup the curves below it.
The scene shifted so abruptly, Bella's vision spun before she could locate herself in the house. They were in the guest room, and she guessed that the click she'd heard was the door locking. Reaching out a hand to the wall, she tried to steady herself physically, and then emotionally.
"Sorry," he said softly. "Are you okay?"
"Dizzy with happiness," she managed.
"Good," he said with a smile. He placed a soft kiss at her ear, then one just beneath it, repeating it again and again as he worked his way down her neck to her collarbone. She wasn't quite sure but she thought she heard a soft growl that could have been a purr. It didn't matter. She had already stopped caring about anything except what he was doing.
Her fingers seemed suddenly clumsy, fumbling for the hem of his shirt. He helped her slide it off, and she moaned a little at this revelation. He'd worn a rash guard while they swam, long board shorts obscuring any hope of a glimpse of what his clothes normally hid. There was nothing hiding him from her now.
His torso was smooth save for a few stray curls at his navel and the center of his chest. She swirled her fingers there, enjoying the sultry sounds this action pulled from him.
He was much more adept in undoing the buttons of her blouse, his lips murmuring endearments as he progressed.
But nerves were making their presence known now. She wanted him, and she wanted this, but she was so keenly aware that she'd only ever had this intimacy with Matt. The apprehension grew as Edward began slipping her capris down from her waist.
She put her hands over his and he stopped his actions immediately. He appeared to be searching her face for an answer to something. "Is this okay?" he breathed.
She let the space of a few steadying breaths pass by. "Yes," she decided. "I'm just . . . nervous."
"Me too." A shy grin snuck up his face. He reached up to twirl a strand of her hair around his finger.
She wrapped her arms around him. "I love you," she whispered, meaning it and meaning so much more than she felt the words could convey.
He reciprocated in action and word. "And I want to show you how much I do." He picked her up, settling her on the bed, nuzzling his face over her midsection as he joined her.
It wasn't Bella's favourite physical feature. Her stretch marks had faded, but they'd left a trail of silvery dashes and finely-wrinkled skin. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, continuing upward, his reverence attending first one, then the other lace-cupped breast.
Her body had always been sensitive, but between the anticipation and his stimulating temperature, she was panting.
His grinning face appeared above her. "I love that I can do this to you."
She was pretty sure he let her roll him over. "Just you wait, Mister," she said playfully.
The grin remained, but her bra disappeared, unhitched by chilly fingers and accompanied by her own giggles.
She returned the favour by pulling off his jeans with some effort, and then arched an eyebrow at his underwear. She felt far more nervous than she hoped she appeared. When Edward lifted his hips to help her slip his last piece of clothing away, Bella only glanced shyly, touching him even more tentatively.
He closed his eyes and groaned.
Her nerves dissipated a little, and her touch became bolder.
Then she was on her back again in a move that left her breathless, Edward seeking permission with his eyes, a finger hooked in her waistband.
The nerves came flooding back, but she nodded, wondering if this was the fulcrum on which she balanced, over which she would topple.
Before she became a mother, she'd been no stranger to pain, or the damage life could inflict on the body or mind. What her maternal transformation had taught her was how tenuous the link between the body and life was. Meredith had come into the world a too-dusky blue, and it had taken the better part of a horrifying minute, watching the pediatrician work on her before she could breathe. Bella's entire paradigm had shifted in that moment, its jarring clarity teaching her just how short the space between life and death could be, and how little it could take to make that mono-directional journey.
Recent circumstances had not altered that perspective.
Now she felt the thrill of being with Edward, as he pressed against her in a way that demonstrated his very clear enthusiasm for bodily intimacy. It both excited and frightened her. She was certain he wouldn't try this if he didn't think it was safe, but a more sinister worry lurked in her mind: what if it hurt the baby? She tried to dismiss the groundless fear. She knew that sex was safe during pregnancy.
She amended the thought: Human sex was safe during pregnancy.
But was it with a vampire?
Don't be ridiculous, she tried telling herself.
But the ball of fear had lodged itself too deeply for her to move it so easily.
"Edward," she whispered, feeling gutless with shame, "Is this safe for the baby?"
She watched him blink twice as if he was doing it in slow motion.
"Yes, it is." His voice sounded strained.
Bella swallowed, counting several breaths.
"You're not ready for this," Edward said softly. There was no question in his tone. It was a gentle observation.
Her answer was a desperate grab at his shoulders. "Yes, I am."
He hesitated, watching her. "Okay, but you show me how and what you're ready for." He kissed her once more, teasing at her upper lip with his. Then he rolled them towards the wall, so that he was on his back, and she was straddling him.
As she continued the kisses he'd begun, she gasped as one of his hands found the particularly sensitive nub between her legs. The sensation was transportive, bits of twitching pleasure rippling over her body. Even her extremities ached sympathetically, the pregnancy heightening all sensation to a near-painful point.
She pushed back against his touch, moaning her own pleasure as she found and positioned herself over what she wanted inside her. Edward froze as she slid over him, his hands disappearing, the headboard creaking with strain.
He was definitely not Matt.
And definitely not human.
It was an abrupt and physical understanding, knowing why he'd been so afraid before, why he had always denied her—and himself. Beyond his strength was simply his nature—all the give was in her flesh, which was feeling very, very full.
She was on the precipice of doubt, when she opened her eyes and caught a glimpse of his face. His features were completely unguarded—cracked with joy, and a worried apprehension she knew too well.
Her heart hurt, seeing it. No. She wouldn't weight him with more worry. Her own fears disappeared. He needed her now, to help him walk over the threshold he faced.
"It's okay," she whispered, bending down and kissing him, starting to move gently over him. "I love you."
"It's so much more than okay," he whispered back, rolling them onto their sides, and then hovering over her again. "It's a miracle."
Very gently, he moved inside her, teasing where they were joined with his fingers. She opened her mouth, but could barely make a sound, her mind was so lost in the sensations rippling over her.
He kept moving, slowly and gently pushing past each new mark until she grimaced slightly at the pressure.
She expected him to stop, or panic, but he backed off a little, still moving, studying her face with his eyes and teasing her with his lips. Then he placed a cold kiss to her nipple and her body rocked with a release that made her feet arch reflexively, her entire body making the same shape against her lover.
As Bella floated down from her own crest of feeling, she was met with Edward's orgasm. His body became a rigid spasm, hard and bruising against her softer one. The gasp that escaped her was small, but his reaction great.
To his credit, he didn't jerk away or leap off the bed, but the disentanglement was much more rapid than she wanted it to be. He sat up carefully, eyes wide with apprehension. "Bella?" he choked out. "Did I hurt you?"
"No, I don't think so," she said. His disappearance had startled her, and she sat up slowly.
"No, or you don't think so?" The edge in his voice bordered on the angry.
The light in the room was low, supplied by the streetlights outside and filtering in through cracks in the curtains. Suddenly uncertain, Bella's cheeks flamed, and she pulled the sheet up over herself, embarrassed by her very imperfect human shape.
"I'm sorry," Edward said, coming close again and wrapping his arms around her. "I didn't mean to snap at you. Are you alright?"
She kissed his chin, letting her brain have a moment to take an honest inventory of her body. "I don't have the right metaphor for what I am."
His chuckle was small and tentative. He brushed a finger down her cheek. "Have I profaned this holiest of shrines?"
Bella's laughter bubbled up from her belly. "No, good pilgrim, you have not, but you may smooth any offense away with a tender kiss."
He did, capturing one lip, and then the other, repeating this small gesture of repentance over and over again, until his grace was assured.
DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.