A/N: It's been a while. Rather than offering excuses and complaints about a bitchy, flighty muse, let's get to it, shall we?

Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest belong to me. All mistakes are mine.

Chapter 17 – Smoke and Mirrors

Bella – A year before her first real date with Edward Cullen:

Renee's summer visit to Forks marked the first time she and I had seen one another since I left San Francisco. I'd suspected she ran off so quickly after the trial because it was as hard for her to look at me as it was for me to look at her. Back then, I at least had the excuse of acute vertigo brought on by a traumatic brain injury for my inability to hold a person's gaze. Mom invented a scenario where one of her many interchangeable jobs had an urgent need for her return. It was a pretext, of course, a smoke-and-mirrors type gimmick to conceal her inability to deal with a daughter who would now need even more care than Mom had been willing to provide in the first place.

Therefore, when she appeared, Renee was met with some surprise. She found me living on my own, albeit in my godfather's converted garage, working at the pub and as a summer camp counselor, albeit with others around, and hiking, surfing, etc., albeit accompanied.

She found me looking people in the eye again.

She found me living a life where, once more, the world met me halfway. No, I'd probably never be able to live entirely alone in a big city – not without assistance. I'd never have it "all," whatever that "all" may have once entailed. But I was accustomed to the middle ground. The middle ground was where I'd always existed.

And now, everyone had my back in the small town of Forks. So, except for those 'bad days,' as Emmett and Rose's little girl, Esme, had started calling them, I could almost pretend I was…okay. Either way, my unexpected, if not full recovery, seemed to please Mom. And I'll admit that the part of me that always craved her approval felt validated by her pleasant surprise.

The first few days of her visit were uncharacteristically warm and sunny in Forks. What's more, my vertigo remained at bay. We had an enjoyable time – at least for those first few days.

One late afternoon, Mom and I sat at the beach gazing at the return of a typically gray end of the day. The hint of a taupe-toned sun occasionally peeked out in the distance. But for the most part, it remained behind thick, cumulous clouds, content to be cradled like a newborn in gauze. Closer to the beach, the rough surf roared, whipping our hair about our faces and spraying us with droplets that tasted of the ocean's fury. It pulled away with equally untamed fervor, like a beast, like a lion in the wild, almost too feral and fierce.

First Beach performed a balancing act. It straddled the line between frightfully intimidating and captivatingly enthralling, though, to me, it would always fall on the latter end. Maybe it was the soft, wet sand where I buried my toes. Perhaps it was the birds in flight, singing their evening songs and coaxing the tempestuous ocean into momentary calm. Or maybe it was the wind, wiping everything away like a clean slate. Like a new beginning. Either way, all of it tempered the seaside's rage…and mine.

Renee, however, saw things with a different eye.

"Why is it always so cold in this damn, dreary, sunless, one-horse corner of the world?" she grumbled.

I smiled at the horizon. "It's not always cold. It's an ocean breeze."

"You can't even catch a proper glimpse of the sun for more than a couple of days in these parts."

"Makes those glimpses all the more worth catching."

"Bella, how do you stand it?"

Sighing, I begrudgingly turned away from the swell and caught Mom scowling at the same view that made my heart soar.

"Long ago, Godpop told me that it's good that the sun rarely shows itself in this part of the Olympic Range. Because if the area possessed both outward beauty and inward warmth…" – gazing back out at the ocean, I grinned and shook my head – "…it'd be overrun with folks who'd never understand what's great about it. Forks not being perfect makes it perfect for those who'll truly appreciate it."

Mom appeared pensive for a few seconds. "Sounds like a crock."

Despite her findings, I laughed.

"Charlie and his tales," she smirked. "Had I known that man would never outgrow his child-like awe with this town, I may have never made him your godfather."

"Mom, your making Charlie Swan my godfather is probably the best thing you ever did for me."

The retort erupted instinctively. I hadn't meant to be that honest, that raw. But there it was, in words that wafted off in the breeze, unable to be recalled. Besides, we both knew them to be true. Renee met my gaze and held it silently for a few heartbeats.

"I suppose it was," she finally sighed. "And I suppose your agreeing with his way of seeing things is a blessing since you're stuck here."

"Stuck here?" I echoed.

"Bella, you can't tell me you would've chosen this had you had another option, had you been able to stay in San Francisco – or any city for that matter. As much as you'll never admit it, you're a lot like me."

I quirked a brow, my stomach suddenly churning.

"You crave excitement," she clarified. "It's why you were with a guy like Paul in the first place, while Jake got relegated to best friend."

She spoke slowly, taking care with each blunt word. And I couldn't even be angry at her. After all, I'd volleyed the first truth. Nonetheless, my heart pounded out a staccato as savage as the ocean's swell. For a handful of seconds, I made no reply because…well, she'd just torn open a wound that had too recently scarred over. Now it oozed thick and scarlet, seeping away my power of speech.

And…I couldn't refute her claim, not wholly. Instead, I turned away, the cold wind stinging my eyes and deep lines marring my forehead as I glared out on a landscape whose beauty I'd worshiped a minute earlier. I shivered against the biting gust that had felt soothing a short while ago. And for that, I momentarily hated her, not for forcing me to see myself but for snatching away the peace First Beach offered me.

"I'm not trying to hurt you, baby." She rested a cold palm on my bare leg. "And I don't blame you for your choices. Rather, I'm trying to show you that I understand more than you think. It's why I ended up with your dad – for the adventures I thought life with him would bring."

I finally found my voice. "Mom, you're not completely wrong, no. But what you term 'adventure' and what I term 'adventure' vary as wildly as do adventures. See, unlike your definition, mine doesn't exclude anything and anyone that might slow me down."

"Ouch, Bella." She retracted the hand resting on my leg while the ocean's rampage ripped, roared, and rumbled in my chest.

"I'm not trying to hurt you, Mom, but I wasn't a parent. My choices weren't meant to affect anyone but myself. Now, I'll probably never be a parent. It's fitting, after all."

I nodded and made the admission stoically, attempting not to betray any emotion.

"Bella, you can't blame or punish yourself."

"Oh, I don't blame nor punish myself. I've had therapy for that," I smiled. "No, my baby-making parts are all in working order, but a lifetime of on-and-off vertigo doesn't exactly mesh with pregnancy nor with the role of an involved mom, does it? No, it's a common-sense decision."

I raked my fingers through the sand around me, knowing the decision was common-sense, yes, allowing my mind to briskly flit through images, reminders of why it was common sense: falling on my midsection while pregnant, dropping my newborn, unable to attend little-league games or piano recitals…all because of vertigo. But…

But there was also a touch of atonement in the decision. A life for a life. After all, absolving oneself of misplaced guilt doesn't erase the consequences of one's choices. I'd made a silent vow to Jake's memory – to live my life to its fullest, yes…while never risking anyone else along with me again.

When I looked back at my mom, she silently met my gaze. Perhaps, along with her thirst for adventure, I'd inherited Renee's inability to differentiate between self-risk and risking someone else along with me. And so, perhaps, Providence had stepped in.

"It's a common-sense decision," I reiterated, "but…" – again, I paused, this time to swallow back the quiver that made my voice, my resolve sound weak, - "had I ever had that particular responsibility, that opportunity, I'd like to think I would've found a way to include my child in my definition of 'adventures.' Or who knows?" I grinned and shrugged. "Maybe I, too, would've just found a wide-eyed godfather for my kid and called it a day."

Renee reached out and pushed a few strands of my hair behind my ear.

"Baby, I won't try to defend myself. I know you didn't have the best parents, and I am sorry," she murmured. "But now that you're an adult, I'd like us to be friends."

"Friends." Drawing in a deep breath, I exhaled it into the salty air. "Friends. Maybe that'll work out better for us than mother and daughter, huh?"

She ran her fingers along the length of my hair now. "And as your friend as much as your mom, I worry about how this town, with its limited options, will be even more limiting for someone with your condition."

The heat that flashed through me quickly morphed from being on my behalf to being on behalf of the town and its people. On behalf of my godfather.

"Like I said, naming Charlie my godfather was probably the best thing you ever did for me. This town loves him and his family. By extension, they've welcomed me with open arms and as is. Forks' options for "fun" might be limited, Mom, but its heart and soul aren't."

"Heart and soul until they tire of the novelty of you," she snorted. "Temporary thrills – that's what's inherent to a small town. It's why I left."

"What's your point, Mom?" I asked, impatience quickly giving way to irritation. "Even if that were true, which it's not, what's your point?"

"I've been thinking. Now that you're better, maybe you can come to visit me once in a while, at least get you out of here for a bit. Bella, I know I haven't been a great parent. I'd like to remedy that as much as I can."

"Mom, I have bad days," I reminded her, raising my brows. "I've been well for the past few days, but I still have days where the whole world spins, and I'm forced to either accept a lot of help or stay home. There are days when I can't get out of bed."

"We can figure that out. Maybe your dad's insurance might pay for a home attendant when you visit."

A 'home attendant.' Not, "I'll help you, Bella, should you need me."

For a long moment, our gazes remained locked. To her manner of thinking, Renee was holding out an olive branch, and not one just for her shitty parenting style of my childhood, but for abandoning me in San Francisco when some might say I needed her the most. It was an invitation for a respite from what she deemed a monotonous, small-town life lacking the opportunities for adventurous spirits such as ours.

It was a temporary invitation, one born of pity.

I nodded. "Well, maybe one of these days. But right now, I'm fine here."

Renee sighed and drew her hand away from my hair. "Okay. But don't forget, it's an open invitation."

It was an open invitation more of guilt than a genuine wish to spend time with me.

"Okay. Thanks."

Then we both spun away from one another, back to the horizon that we both saw…both experienced with vastly opposing feelings. In the next moment, I pivoted back to her.

"Just to make it clear, by 'I'm fine here,' I mean I'm happy. I feel neither stuck nor limited. And while I appreciate your invitation, I don't think I'll take you up on it," I smiled. "Mom, there's so much to love about Forks; more than the outside world could ever imagine, more than those who never appreciated it will ever know."

Mom offered me an unconvinced smile in return. "I'm happy you're happy here, but I think your experience is unique, and not many others will see this town the way you and your godfather's family see it."

"Maybe," I shrugged carelessly. Then I grinned. "Maybe I'll write an article letting the world know what they're missing."

She chuckled now, and in her defense, it wasn't in a condescending manner, more of an acknowledgment that she wasn't going to win this argument.

"Well, baby, you're a great writer," she said, "and if anyone can find the combination of words that'll attract some special souls to this town for longer than a week, it's you." She looked up at the dark sky then and again scowled, groaning as she unfolded her legs and got to her feet. "All right, come on. I'll help you up."

Jumping onto my own two feet, I gingerly wiped off the sand on my bare legs, completely allowing myself to embrace the smug, even if peevish, satisfaction her continued surprise afforded me.

"No, thanks. I've got it."

After she left town, vertigo hit me with a vengeance. It was Sue, my godfather, and the rest of the townsfolk of Forks who once more helped me through it, rearranging schedules, providing coverage, and showing and sending me their love. And it was Forks that once more helped me heal a heart broken by the one person who should've always been there for me.

One afternoon soon after, Sue, Leah, Emily, and I took a girl trip to Port Angeles, where I saw a dress in the window of a vintage boutique. The dress was undeniably bright and looked like a piece of the sun had landed in the middle of the Olympic Mountains. As I held up the dress, I remember grinning to myself.

'Take that, Renee Higginbotham. Here's proof that the sun does stick around here.'

OOOOO

Bella – A couple of hours before her first real date with Edward Cullen:

In the evenings, the last of the day flooded my small bedroom with gray, incandescent bands of light. They streamed in like silver waterfalls, glittery flecks seeping through the skylights, refracting and lining the perimeter of my tiny apartment like diamonds around a wedding band. The windows they poured through were custom-made to filter the harshest beams on those rare days when Forks could boast of such things. They also gave the once dark space the illusion of airiness, like their own form of smoke and mirrors, allowing my small home to boast of a size it didn't possess. The skylight windows were just one of the many ways Godpop thought of everything when he first converted the garage for me.

'Is that what made you burn so brightly…?'

'…if anyone can find the combination of words that'll attract some special souls to this town for longer than a week, it's you…'

Jake's old, unanswered refrain, along with my mom's remark, echoed in my mind more than usual this evening. I wasn't sure why. Maybe, similarly to how the gray dusk snuck up on the day, nostalgia had crept up on me after the switch from daylight to twilight.

Perhaps it had something to do with the date I was preparing for with a man who, so far, appeared to share Jake's once-held belief that I was some sort of shining star, that I burned brightly here in this little, faraway town – a town my mom assured me wasn't half as special as I believed it to be.

'Is that what made you burn so brightly…?'

'…if anyone can find the combination of words that'll attract some special souls to this town for longer than a week, it's you…'

Those old conversations circled my mind like seaside herons battling ravenous vultures. Sighing, I scrutinized the bright yellow reflection in the full-length mirror affixed to the opposite wall, where I primped for my date with Edward in a way I hadn't primped for a date in years – if ever.

Smoke and mirrors, indeed.

"What are you talking about 'smoke and mirrors?'"

"I didn't realize I said that aloud."

Emily, who sat at the edge of my bed keeping me company, shot me a curious frown. "Well, you did. Now, what does it-"

"Hey, tell me the truth," I said. "Does this dress scream unsophisticated, lumbering Lumberella?"

"Unsophisticated…lumbering…what?"

"I bought the dress last year, remember – right after my mom's visit?"

"Oh. Your mom's visit. Yeah, I remember," Emily smirked. "But what does your mother's last visit have to do with anything?"

"I'm just not sure the dress is date-night material." I sighed and then took her in over my shoulder. "I mean, back in New York City, Edward's probably used to women who wear little black dresses and strings of pricey pearls to dates, right?"

Emily shrugged. "I have no clue what he's used to in New York City."

"What if I show up in this," I said, turning back to the mirror, "and he's in a three-piece suit or something, with a hand-tied bow-tie and a gold pocket, with the chain hanging out of his pocket?"

"If he does show up for a date in something like that, he's the damn weirdo. And you've been watching way too much BBC," Emily snickered through the glass. "Bella, do you think Edward gives two shits what color dress you show up in tonight or what you accessorize with…as long as you show up?"

I smoothed down my dress and readjusted the neckline.

"And as long as you show up on time," she continued, "which you won't if you start ripping apart your closet now in search of pearls and little black dresses to match imaginary bow-ties and pocket watches."

"You're right," I conceded after a handful of seconds, "especially since I don't own any pearls."

Emily chuckled. "Seriously, Bell, what's going on here?"

"What if Edward wants to have sex?" I threw out.

Her eyes widened. "You don't have to have sex if you don't want to. You know that, right?"

"Oh, I want to," I grinned. "It's just that I haven't had sex since…since-"

"I know." She spoke gently, and unlike Renee last year spared me the mention of a monster. "I know, but if it's a lack of practice you're worried about, I can guarantee you it hasn't changed much."

"Maybe in New York City, it has changed." I raised both brows at her through the mirror. "Maybe they've invented new positions in New York City, ones we here in Forks aren't privy to yet."

"Now, that sounds delicious," Emily said. "If I were you, I'd be hoping for that one – even if it means you've got to deal with bow-ties and pocket watches."

"Em, you're insane." I laughed hard but then quickly sobered. "What if my condition prevents me from-"

"Bella, riding a man is like riding a bike. Muscle memory kicks in. Or so I've heard."

The familiarly shameless voice shared its contribution to a two-person conversation and then strolled past me while Emily erupted into fits of laughter. I, much less amused, peeked over my shoulder and quirked a brow at my god-sister.

"Lee, are you ever going to learn how to knock?"

Shrugging noncommittally, Leah plopped in next to Emily and then held up a black makeup bag.

"I'm here to do your makeup."

"I don't recall asking for help with my makeup."

"Then be grateful that I showed up at all," she grinned.

"You're missing my point. And no, thanks." I turned back to the mirror.

"Bella, though I'll be the first to admit that despite your issues, you're surprisingly great at many things, applying makeup isn't one of them."

"Focusing that closely into a mirror tends to make me dizzy," I mumbled, thinking of those smoke-and-mirrors.

"Which is why I'm here! Besides, proper makeup application isn't like the aforementioned act of riding a bike or riding a co-"

"Leah!"

Emily threw back her head and cackled.

"Em, don't reward her with laughter."

Leah rolled her eyes and resumed, unabashed. "The point is I'm doing your makeup."

"No, you're not," I said decisively.

"But you just said you don't want to look like a small-town Lumberella!"

"Jesus, Lee." I glared at her balefully. "Exactly how long have you been listening in?"

"Long enough. And by the time I'm done with you, what dress you're wearing or not wearing will make zero difference to Edward Cullen, Esquire, Attorney At Law. I'm giving you the works: primer, foundation, highlighter, bronzer, concealer, contouring-"

"As tempting as that mountain of products sounds, the answer is still no."

Leah's shoulders deflated. "Bella, you suck."

"That's what Ed's hoping to say! Bada-bing!"

The death glare I now turned on Emily stifled her amusement.

"What? Leah said worse!"

"She's a child. We're adults."

"I'm not a child!"

Emily snickered in an extremely non-adult manner.

"Em, do you think they'll do that tonight? Eww," Leah shuddered. "I guess I will have to knock unless I want to catch the counselor with his ass up in the air, gyrating all..." She rolled over on her stomach and pretended to hump my mattress – grunting in time with her hip thrusts.

Once again, Emily broke out into raucous laughter. "Not gonna lie. If I walked in here and caught Edward's fine ass out and moving like that…it'd probably take me a second or five to remind myself to look away."

"Yeah, but don't forget it'd be Bella under that gyrating ass," Leah contributed, "so you'd have to be ready to witness her all…" Now she rolled onto her back and spread her legs in the air, arching her back off the mattress, pretending to wrap her arms around some invisible entity above her, and moaning.

"Leah, you're seriously disturbed," I said, choking back a chuckle of my own while Emily dissolved into another round. She only stopped laughing when her phone buzzed, and she glanced at it. Whatever she saw on her screen made her do a double-take. Her chuckles gave way to a furrowed brow, followed by a tender smile.

"Diego?" I assumed.

She shook her head. "No. No, but…" Thumbs working over the cell's keyboard, Emily stood and headed for the door. "Gotta go."

"Where are you off to in such a rush?"

"To play fairy godmother."

"What?" I snorted, pivoting.

She stopped and blew me a kiss. "Never mind me. You have a freaking blast tonight, you hear me? Forget your mixed-up mama and New York City girls in pearls. Do all the things. Leah, come on. I'm gonna need your help with…err…something. And let me text Diego. And what's Sue up to tonight? We'll probably need her too."

"I don't know why everyone always assumes I don't have my own plans."

With yet another roll of her eyes and a concurrent suck of teeth, Leah made her way to the door after Emily. Before stepping out, she paused and turned, and I expected another quip, one of her famous parting shots. Instead, my big-mouthed god-sister offered me one of her rare yet heartrendingly soft smiles, which made her look like a younger version of her mom. The ones that reminded me why I loved her like a sister.

"Hey. Don't be nervous tonight, Bella, okay? With or without my amazing makeup job, in a Lumberella dress or not, you easily outshine any New York City witch. Besides, Edward Cullen, Esquire, Attorney at Law, already can't keep his eyes off you."

I drew in a series of successive breaths. "Thank you, Lee. That means a lot."

"I mean it. Now, he won't be able to keep his paws off you." She hugged herself tightly, her hands wandering over her body, squeezing her hips, caressing her backside. All the while, she moaned and made all manner of embarrassing noises.

"Get out, Leah," I laughed.

OOOOO

Bella – On her first real date with Edward Cullen:

It turned out that Emily and Leah were correct about a few things.

For one, Edward loved the dress.

And it wasn't even how often he verbally commented on it, in a voice full of reverent awe, that brought a flush of heat. It wasn't how, amid all our conversations, at his house, and on the ride over to Rose's to drop off my sweet pea, Tristan, Edward's eyes strayed continuously to me as if he couldn't keep them away.

It was how he'd sigh and murmur, more to himself than to me, something about "Sunshine," – an interesting word when the dress's resemblance to sunshine was why I bought it in the first place. Had I been the type who believed in fairy tales, I may have taken it as a sign, convinced myself that I was living my own Cinderella story, where the smoke-and-mirrors I had in place – the ones that Forks helped me put in place – would one day magically transform me, sunshine dress and all.

Instead, I smiled and took pleasure in what it was: confirmation that Edward loved the dress.

As for Edward's date-night wear, something that had caused me slight concern related to misplaced expectations, Edward put that to rest the second he opened the door to me. He greeted me looking as handsome as ever if, like me, a bit more polished than I'd seen to date. In a crisp, white button-down, navy blue slacks, and with his thick, usually ungoverned waves combed, slicked back, and parted neatly at the side, he still looked like the Edward I'd been getting to know for the past few weeks.

For another, Leah had been right about our inability to keep our hands to ourselves…

After we dropped off Tristan and Edward and I got back in the truck, he took my hand and weaved our fingers over the center console, squeezing it to get my attention. When I looked up at him, his emerald eyes were alight with excitement, and he offered me a mischievous grin that made me chuckle.

"Ready to play Bonnie to my Clyde?" he asked.

I threw back my head and laughed, trailing off when I met Edward's eyes again. I'd noticed something lately. Whenever he said something that made me laugh heartily, I'd inevitably catch him watching me as if my laughter enthralled him.

"You make it seem like we've just busted out of jail," I grinned.

"Not exactly jail, no," he said, "but I can't deny I feel a bit…" – his brow furrowed – "do you think wrong to say…free?" he asked, sounding so abruptly conflicted that I regretted my joke.

"Edward, I know very little about being a parent. But I am sort of an expert at having a set of parents who never stopped to question their right to many moments of freedom from their kid."

"Bella…" he breathed, cradling my face in his warm palm. He shook his head, a thousand questions sparkling in curious eyes, questions I could tell he wasn't sure he should ask.

"It's fine," I chuckled lightly, waving away his concern. "My point is, trust me when I say you're nothing like them. Over the past few weeks, I've seen first-hand how your son is always at the forefront of your thoughts and actions. I admire that…so much about you."

He sighed, almost as if relieved. "Bella, you seem to get me…and my son in a way very few people do."

On the surface, Edward came across as a city attorney with a healthy ego and an almost rigid adherence to his responsibilities…until one saw him with his son – a son who'd stolen my heart with one look, with green eyes as bright as his father's, yet somehow, even more captivating.

I swallowed thickly against a sudden lump in my throat.

"And that means…the world to me, but…" he continued, slipping his hand around my nape now, "I can't deny that I'm greatly looking forward to our time this evening."

"Me too," I whispered as he drew me closer and guided my mouth toward his.

For a few quiet moments, we alternated tugging on top lips…bottom lips. When his tongue slipped in, I lifted myself to my knees and gripped his shoulders. Edward wrapped his arms around my waist and fell against his driver's side backrest, pulling me with him. He groaned and cradled my backside.

"Bella…" he breathed, stopping and pulling back just enough to meet my eyes for a moment, where I hovered above him. A soft smile played across his swollen lips. "So beautiful, Bella. So…"

He crushed his mouth against mine, and what followed was a wonderful dance where he led, and I followed, then I led, and he melted against me, splaying his hands and pulling me closer still. Mutually heavy breaths and quiet grunts punctuated the silence. That realization – the silence surrounding us – made me choke on laughter in the next moment, breaking our kiss.

"What?" Edward smiled in confusion, pulling back.

"No one's here to scream, "Kisses! Kisses!"

He stared at me, then shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"I miss him," I chuckled.

Edward released me and threw back his head, groaning up at the truck's top, while I laughed and laughed. Once my laughter finally died down, he quirked a brow at me.

"All right, we're making a rule right here and now," he said, tapping his pointer finger hard against the mid console, his brow furrowed around an exaggerated scowl, "before this date continues."

I snorted, remnants of amusement eliciting a rogue chuckle. "What is it?"

"For the next few hours," he growled, "let's focus on Edward and Bella and keep mention of Tristan to a minimum. Okay?" He grinned now.

"Okay," I chuckled.

With one final grunt and a stifled smile, he turned on the truck and revved the engine.

"So, where are we going?" I asked.

He cut his eyes to me. "That, Miss Dwyer, is a surprise," he said, and checking his mirrors, he peeled away from the curb, making me shriek then laugh again, feeling almost as if we were two outlaws riding into a sunset for two – at least for a few hours.

OOOOO

When, a few minutes later, we pulled into the driveway of Edward's summer home, I was…confused – and somewhat disappointed, if I must be honest. Shooting me an amused expression, he cut the engine and made his way to the passenger side of the truck, where I sat somewhat stunned.

"Did you forget something at home?" I asked hopefully until he took my hand and helped me out.

"No," he said briefly yet with a grin, then led me up the gravelly driveway.

I'd meant it when I told Emily I was far from opposed to sleeping with Edward tonight. Neither had I been under the illusion that some fancy dinner was in the cards. It just wasn't possible for a hastily planned date in this part of the world. Our dining choices were limited, at least compared to what they would've been in big cities that never slept. It was too late in the evening for a trek into Port Angeles – Tristan had to be picked up before he grew too tired and thereby understandably frightened or cranky. And what we had closer, in town, weren't Michelin-starred establishments. There were no silky linen cloth draped tables, no finely-aged cuts of steak, nor sommeliers serving top-shelf wines.

So, it wasn't that I was opposed to sex nor that I wanted exactly to be wined and dined. An excursion into one of the area's small diners, a trip to Emily's Pub for burgers, hell, even a pizza shared at a high-stool table would've proven we had more in mind beyond sex tonight.

I plodded up the walkway on sandaled feet that abruptly felt heavy and sluggish.

"You okay?" Edward asked, guiding me with a hand on the small of my back.

"Uh-huh. Sure," I said, my eyes trained ahead of me.

Where the stamped concrete pathway forked and split – leading to the house or the backyard – we bypassed the house.

I stopped. "Where…?"

Edward smiled, but there was an underlying hint of nerves, insecurity that would've been out of place on the face of a man who expected a quick fuck, who was okay to 'Netflix and chill' tonight…out of place on the face of the man I was getting to know so well this summer.

Sluggish footsteps gave way to eager ones. The late evening breeze whipped up my hair as I almost sprinted forward, Edward chuckling nervously behind me. He caught up, and successive breaths erupted from him as he unlatched and pushed open the white wooden fence.

"I hope this is okay," he murmured.

Cradling his cheek, I walked into the backyard and gasped.

There was an evening – a horrible evening – a few years back when I'd been blinded by so much light that I'd thought all the stars in the sky had crashed through a window. That evening flickered for a millisecond through my mind only because of the similarly glaring moment of unexpected incandescence.

When my eyes focused, I realized it wasn't the stars from the Forks skies in Edward's backyard. It was hundreds of fluorescent lights. Like buzzing fireflies, they hugged the tree trunks, hung from the branches, and strung like garland along the fence.

"Ohh," I breathed.

Tearing my gaze away from the lights, my eyes landed on Edward's deck. It was also lit up. But in addition to lights, terra cotta planters full of purple-hued wildflowers were arranged at all four corners of the deck. A vase full of the same flowers rested atop a small patio table set for two, with silverware so gleaming, dressed in linen so white, the table glowed along with the lights. One of those restaurant-style space heaters, the type Emily's Pub had just acquired for the tiny outdoor dining patio Em was planning to set up, stood next to the table. My godfather's stargazing telescope awaited by the steps leading into the woods.

"Edward."

He wrapped his arms around my waist, his breath warming my nape, his tenderly whispered words tickling my ear even as their somewhat shaky quality betrayed that lingering hint of insecurity.

"Do you like it? Because if you don't, we can go into town. I just…" he cleared his throat. "Bella, that night at your godfather's barbecue, the night after I first arrived at Forks…and you were under the stars…"

I turned and met his emerald gaze, Adam's apple bobbing in my periphery.

"When I arrived in town…I never expected…'

'Is that what made you burn so brightly…?'

'…if anyone can find the combination of words that'll attract some special souls to this town for longer than a week, it's you…'

If I believed in fairy tales, this would be the part where Edward and I made those age-old declarations of forever. This was the part where I'd realize there was a reason my words brought Edward and Tristan into town – a man who could, perhaps, look past my limitations, and a boy with no mom who was ready to love me…as much as I'd already grown to love him. We could live out our forever in this tiny town that kept me whole with its love and smoke-and-mirrors.

Except, I didn't live in a fairy tale. I lived in the middle ground, and the world had already met me halfway – more than halfway – by gifting me this town and its people. And I'd made a silent vow to live my life to its fullest while never again risking anyone along with me.

Edward and Tristan had a home outside of here. Edward had a career. Tristan had grandmothers and aunts… friends to make, and an entire, unlimited future. They were in Forks for an enjoyable summer…and nothing more. If I allowed my mind to travel down that fairy-tale road of possibilities, there was nothing but massive heartache waiting at the end.

And honestly, deep down, I already knew there would be heartache at the end of the summer.

But we weren't at the end. Not yet. That thought brought a wave of relief and a smile because the season was turning into a beautiful one, as magical as this backyard. I wouldn't waste it with thoughts of an eventual end. Like Cinderella's evening out, I'd enjoy it while it lasted.

So, I cradled Edward's freshly-shaven cheek in my hand, and I guided his mouth to mine, savoring the warmth of his lips, inhaling the breaths he took against me with our kiss…committing it all to memory.

"I know you wanted to talk…" he said, "in private."

I nodded. "Edward, this is the most thoughtful…the most beautiful thing anyone has ever planned for me. Thank you."

With a pleased smile infused with undisguised relief, he rested his forehead against mine. "I…let's go eat."

A/N: Thoughts?

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