Evening, all! Hope all is well at your end xx

"Signed, sealed, and delivered, Dr. Cullen. The judge sealed the documents an hour ago." The voice was full of joy as he gave us the news.

There was no joy in the house, though. There was relief, pain, and exhaustion. I held Isabella tightly as she cried. So many tears, but they were needed. Late into the night, we both cried for her mom and her dad.

Charles would be here soon, though. Dad knew that as soon as the judge put through the paperwork, he was to get Charles here; Isabella needed him. She hadn't spoken to him since that first phone call.

We just couldn't risk either of them getting hurt. There were still people out there, involved, who were unstable. We'd gotten as many as we could, but some still scampered like sewer rats. We'd get them in the end, though. We always did.

But now, now the case was closed, they were both safe. Free. That one word caused me to shatter. Would she want to leave now, and go back to living with her dad? Would she leave here, leave me? I would follow her. I knew it in my heart.

…

Isabella noticed my fears, of course; I could never hide anything from her. She was so in tune with me.

"I'm afraid you'll want to go home now. I fear that you'll leave me, but I have to be strong. You can't let my wants and fears control your decisions," I confessed when she begged me to talk to her, the words painful.

I loved her too much to keep her cooped up here. Isabella needed to be free to live her life, and if she were happier leaving, then I would have to let her go.

"What do you want?" she asked quietly.

"I want to show you how much I love you. I want to marry you, call you my wife, and make love to you each night. I want to see you pregnant with our children, argue over what school they will go to, and fight over me being too protective with our girls…" Wistful, the words rushed from my lips.

She cupped my face gently before bringing her lips to mine. "If I remember correctly, we already are married." She giggled sweetly and wiggled her fingers at me.

The rings still sat on her finger from when we'd given her the new identity. It had become second nature for me to see them there.

"It's not the same," I replied.

"Your fear is that I want to go home, but you fail to see one thing, Edward… I am home," she said softly and kissed me again.

…

It was three in the morning when I was woken up by the chime of my phone.

He's here x

That was all it said, but that was all that was needed. Charles was here; he was here somewhere in the house, waiting for Isabella. I didn't want to wake her yet, though. We'd talked late into the night about what we both wanted. We agreed to disagree over what age our daughters could date, but on everything else, we settled.

I made sure to point out that I would still need to ask her to marry me, and she informed me that she would be ready to say yes when I did. I'll admit my heart did a happy dance along with some backflips when she said that.

…

It was now six in the morning, and she was growling at me in the shower. And not in a good way. She couldn't understand why her surprise couldn't wait a little while. Personally, I thought Isabella and Charles had waited too long for this moment.

"Kiss me," she requested sweetly as the hot spray rained down on us.

She should never have to ask. Although I knew Charles was downstairs waiting for her, I couldn't deny her this. She wanted this, and it was in me to give her anything she wanted or needed. Our kisses led to touching. It was innocent enough, to begin with, gentle and caressing, but the mood changed.

We changed.

We both needed more all of a sudden. As became obvious when she gripped me tightly and kept tempo with the rhythm of my fingers slipping through her folds. All too soon we were both coming at each other's touch. It was mind-blowing how she affected me, but I wasn't about to start complaining.

…

We bounded down the stairs a short while later, and Isabella skidded to a stop in the kitchen. There he was. Charlie. The man she'd been torn away from.

"Daddy?" She gasped.

Charles's eyes were bloodshot when he looked up from his coffee. Despite the lifetime of pain in them, he still smiled; it was like some Lifetime movie. They both rushed to meet each other and then held on for dear life. That was my cue to bow out of the room.

Isabella needed this time with him. Alone. They spent the whole day together. In the house, and out in the gardens. I watched her carefully when they walked together in the garden. She held his hand as they both cried. They held each other tightly. Isabella was a rock for him as much as he was for her.

Later in the day, she went into the kitchen to make his favorite meal, and Charles came to me. He hugged me fiercely, thanking me for protecting her, for saving her.

"I know legally you're already married, with the paperwork and all, but when the real day comes, just know you have my blessing," he whispered gruffly in my ear. When Charles pulled away, his eyes were on fire. "Now, when do I get to meet the woman who hurt my baby girl?"

…

Telling Isabella about Ms. Maksimov, and where she was, was incredibly difficult. It was made a little easier by Charles being in the room with us, supporting her. She kept looking at him, making sure he was safe. When he'd reassured her over and over that we were all safe, healthy, and fine, she calmed down a little.

Then she got angry.

I'd never seen her so wild and out of control. More like a wild, caged animal than a small, eighteen-year-old girl. I wanted to go to her, hold her, and calm her down, but also knew she needed this. Isabella needed to let go of everything she was holding in.

That night, when the house was quiet, she came to me, and we talked. It seemed hard for her to convey what was going through her mind, but I worked it out.

She couldn't understand how the woman was still alive. How could I explain I'd kept her that way so she could suffer, if only a fraction, of what Isabella had gone through? Did it make me an evil man to make another human suffer like that? In this case, I didn't think so. I wanted retribution just as much as Isabella did.

"I want to do it. I want to be the one she sees before she blinks for the last time. I need to know, with my own heart and eyes that she'll never come back, that she'll never touch me again or anyone else again."

I had known it would come to this if I were honest about it, and I was in no position to say no.

"I'll make the arrangements."

So how do you feel about Isabella wanting to be the one to kill the woman? When I wrote this originally, I wanted Isabella to do it, I needed her to do it.