I stay out too late, got nothin' in my brain. That's what people say, mmhmm, that's what people say, mmhmm. I go on too many dates, but I can't make 'em stay. At least that's what people say, mmhmm, that's what people say, mmhmm. But I keep cruising, can't stop, won't stop moving. It's like I got this music in my mind saying it's gonna be alright. ~ Taylor Swift, Shake It Off

BPOV

Even though I stopped releasing music after reputation, I still wrote. I wrote for other artists, usually under a pseudonym because most people didn't want to be associated with me, and I did a song here and there for a soundtrack or two. I kept the really personal ones to myself though. It didn't feel right letting other people have those.

Talking with Edward the night after he and Aiden put together that video and the stage made me realize I never released the really personal stuff, even when I was actively putting my own music out. I always kept a wall up between the songs that meant the most to me, and the ones I put out for the world to hear. The ones that really tugged at my soul were never the ones I let the public listen to because I was scared they would tear them, me, apart.

Typically, I used the excuse of having to choose the songs that fit the storyline the best, but now I wasn't so sure if that was the only reason. I had always put up a cold exterior whenever I released a project because it was fucking scary letting the world listen to such personal songs, knowing without a doubt there were going to be people that said they were shit or didn't understand.

Even after years of doing it over and over, it was still scary. But maybe it was time to let the world see who I really was. That had been the whole point of my albums and movies. The only reason I put my private life on display like that was to set the record straight from the hundreds of articles online that said I was a bitch or selfish or insane. Still, I had a wall up between that version of myself and who I really was.

The entire thing made me feel like I was just going in circles, like there was no solution. I had the material, years of songs too sweet and pure that I never wanted the world to see. Songs that I thought showed the real me too clearly to allow anyone else to listen to. Hell, Edward hadn't even heard most of them.

The question now was, what did I do with this realization? Could I put myself out there again, more so than before with the most personal songs I had? Did I want to?

Yes. Because I wanted to prove to myself that I could. Because I wanted to show people that no matter what was said about you, no matter what shit you went through, you could always come out stronger. I wanted to finally show the world I wasn't a complete monster.

I stared at the list in front of me; songs I had written about some of the happiest, and some of the saddest moments of my life. It didn't hurt as much as I thought it would, going through the sad ones. There was only one that I decided was completely off limits. Others would be cut simply because there were too many, but not because I was scared to put them out.

I remembered it well, the one I was going to avoid at all costs. Still, being the glutton for punishment that I was, I couldn't help but pull out the old paper with lyrics scribbled on it. It was one of the first things I wrote down after getting released from jail, after having it mostly all written in my head for months. It was the only thing I wrote during my time locked up.

His voice is a familiar sound, nothing lasts forever, but this is getting good now. He's so tall, and handsome as hell. He's so bad but he does it so well. And when we've had our very last kiss, my last request is: say you'll remember me.

"That's beautiful," Edward said quietly, still making me jump. My fingers had drifted over the piano, the words coming out strained and quiet.

"No, it's not." Not when you knew the whole story behind it.

He sat next to me, his hand falling on my neck, sliding down my back. "I love your softer songs."

I rested my head on his shoulder, taking a deep breath. His natural Edward scent, the one that was like summer combined with home, was a little saturated with alcohol, but was still comforting.

I knew if I didn't get this off my chest now, I would obsess over it for the next week. "What do you think you would have done… If I had gotten a guilty verdict?"

The shoulder my head was resting on tensed. "Bella…"

"You would have had to move on, eventually. Even if you were stuck on the island forever… you would have ventured out to the main land and had no problems finding a woman, even if it was just to keep you, um, company."

As the words tumbled out of my mouth, I had to swallow back bile that rose to the back of my throat. This was why I didn't even want to think about that song.

"Isabella."

"It was this recurring nightmare I had back then, especially after you had to stop coming to visit me, and it was… conflicting. Because I would have wanted you to be happy, but I also would have wanted to kill any woman that got near you. And not in the joking 'ha ha I'm going to kill you' kind of way. In the actual, 'shoot to kill' kind of way."

Saying it out loud like that made me realize I probably did belong behind bars.

"Then I started to think you would at least remember me, maybe sometimes think about our wedding and smile, or look back on that night in New York and not regret everything."

One second, I was sitting on the piano bench, hands in my lap, and the next Edward had dragged me to my feet, pulling me out of the room and up the stairs so fast I was stumbling over my own feet.

"Edward, what are you – "

"Sit," he grunted, pulling me into his office and slamming the door behind us.

"What –"

"Sit down, Isabella," he repeated, his voice gruff and strict. The voice I heard when he was on the phone arguing with someone, or when he was dealing with things I wanted to know nothing about.

I sat across from his desk, feeling like a kid that got sent to the principal's office. I watched him open a closet to the left, on that held some of his random coats or trinkets. He walked in and I heard a couple of beeps, like he was pushing buttons or playing with his phone. When he sat across from me he tossed a giant file onto the desk between us.

"This is a list of all of the maximum-security prisons you could have been sent to," he told me, pulling out the first paper.

All of my breath left my lungs in a huff. He started pulling out blueprints and photos, papers with notes scribbled along them and lists of names. It was obvious what they were all for.

"I wouldn't have just… left you to fucking rot in prison, Bella. I would have spent every goddamn day of my life getting you back. You think my first thought would have been to go find someone else to fuck?"

Bile rose to the back of my throat, burning when I swallowed it down again. Guilt started to swirl around my stomach, making me nauseous and lightheaded.

He had told me in passing that he would have tried to get me out if I had gotten locked up, but I didn't think it would have actually happened. People didn't just… get broken out of prison on a whim. I never knew he had all of these plans.

I stood from my spot, my legs a little shaky, and walked over to where Edward sat. His eyes followed me, mossy and furious, but he didn't put up a fight when I carefully straddled his lap.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Don't apologize for telling me how you feel. I just… wish you didn't have to constantly live with the reminder of what you went through, of the things I know you thought. It still feels like yesterday for me sometimes, sitting in that courtroom behind you. I know it's worse for you."

I ran my fingers over his face; traced the bridge of his nose, the curve of his lips, and the jaw that constantly captured my attention.

"I love you," I sighed.

Yeah, I got stuck in memories sometimes, reliving moments in the past we both wanted to forget. But, Edward was always there to drag me out of them, and never once looked at me with pity or annoyance because of it.

Dark…

A week later I was sitting at the large table in our dining room, surrounded by Heidi, Claire, and Kate. I had called them the day after I went through all of my material and knew I wanted to do something. I wasn't sure exactly what yet, but that was what they were here for.

Heidi looked practically giddy, sitting next to Claire and grinning when I put a cup of coffee in front of her. We were all clustered at the end of the long dining room table, and I had showed them my list of songs and played a few.

"So… Any suggestions?"
After I called them I knew they would look into everything. They had been my team for two decades for a reason. Heidi had more connections in the industry than anyone I had ever met, and most of them owed her a favor or two. Claire knew just the way to spin a story to make sure the public saw it how we wanted. And Kate, she was a master at organization, whether it be events or a schedule, she could pull off anything with about an hours' notice.

"We'll go with Vogue, for sure, right?" Kate asked Claire.

"Of course."

"Vogue?"

"They've wanted an exclusive for years. The real kicker is they want Edward to write the article on you. They've been very adamant about that."

"Edward…" I waited, trying to think of a well-known journalist by the name.

"Sorry I'm late, ladies," Edward said, coming in looking like he had rushed home. I frowned, unsure why he would have rushed down here. I told him about my meeting, but he never said he was coming to it. It wasn't like I sat in on his business meetings.

"Edward," Claire clarified, looking from Edward to me. "That's why we asked him to join."

My brain still wasn't understanding what was going on. "Edward Edward? Edward, my husband Edward? That's the Edward they want to write a piece on me for Vogue?"

"Not just a piece, actually. They've been dying for a life exclusive; a look back at your career, best fashion moments, everything. They're effectively giving you and Edward full creative control over the issue. Anything you're willing to share, they want it."

"But…" That didn't happen. Vogue didn't just say 'hey, have our magazine for a month and do whatever you want with it.'

"They know Edward will get the most honest interview, most accurate information out of you. It's purely a selfish move on their part, but completely genius. It'll be the perfect first step to promote whatever you want to do with this," Heidi said, holding up the list of songs I had put together.

"You want to do this?" I asked Edward. He was sitting next to me, arm draped lazily across my chair, and looked completely at ease.

"Of course," he answered, like it was something he did all of the time, like writing an article for Vogue was normal for him.

"Um, okay, I guess." I wasn't sure why I was so hesitant to do it. It was an amazing opportunity, and Heidi was right. It would be the perfect launching pad for whatever I decided on doing. I had always worked so hard at keeping Edward out of the spotlight, though.

The only time I could remember him ever publicly talking about our relationship was the short interview he gave not long after I got arrested. It was short and sweet, and something I probably would have told him not to do if I had known about it.

Edward looked over at me, eyes tight like he was trying to read my mind. Thank God that was impossible.

"We'll give you some time to think about what you want to do, officially, with the music. How you want it to play out, but there is one more slightly time sensitive thing that we need to get through today," Heidi said, another almost giddy smile on her face.

My first reaction was to dread whatever she was going to say, but her smile made me second guess myself. "What is it?"

Heidi took a deep breath, smirked at the two women sitting beside her, and spoke softly. "The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has created the Isabella Cullen Lifetime Achievement Award for exceptional contribution to the film industry over one's lifetime."

"Goddamn," Edward muttered beside me.

I stared at Heidi.

Mind blank.

"Um, what?" I asked once I could speak again.

"The Isabella Cullen Lifetime Achievement Award will be given to you at this year's Academy Awards, in about five months."

"But, I mean, I haven't… Why?"

I was the most awarded actor at the Academy, I knew that. I'd had more than my fair share of nominations as well. Films that I had done over the last few years had gotten a handful of nominations, but I hadn't won any in a long time. I wasn't heartbroken over it, winning an Oscar was kind of a once in a lifetime thing in itself, and I had six. I was good.

"You realize you practically brought modern, popular culture to the Academy, right?" Claire asked, looking at me like I was an idiot. At the moment, I felt like one.

I frowned. "I didn't –"

"You did. Before you, Oscars were reserved for old white men who bribed their way to the top and made movies the general public had no interest in. You helped pave the way for fresh blood and quality, well known content to be recognized."

"But, I…" I looked around, not really knowing what I was looking for. I leaned my elbows on the table, dropping my head to my hands. "I didn't mean to."

"Well," Kate said with a smirk. "You did."
My mind was a mess, somehow simultaneously full of too many thoughts and not enough.

"Oh, oops, one more thing," Heidi said, looking down at her papers. I frowned over at her, amazed she could have anything left to tell me. "They invited you to do a special performance to open the show, a look back through the stuff that started the movement, you know?"

"Fuck, Heidi, I –"

"Oh, this is non-negotiable, Bella. You're doing it," Kate said, frowning over at me. "I sat across from you as a scared teenager about to walk in to her first audition, watched you stumble up those steps to win your first Academy Award, saw as you were fucking dying on a red carpet in front of me, watched you go through a hell of a lot of shit to get to this point. All while working your ass off putting out albums and films, never stopping, only taking a break when you had Aiden.

"Now, you're getting rightfully rewarded for it and the most prestigious film academy is giving you practically a night devoted to you. You're doing it."

I wasn't certain, but I could have sworn I heard Edward chuckle beside me.

The girls left a few minutes later, all smiling at me and my inability to process anything or function well enough to walk them out. Edward handled the formalities and I sat in my spot, staring at the wall.

A couple minutes later, Edward sat across from me so my focus would be forced on him. He looked at me with that crooked smile and I still couldn't think.

"I… need a drink."

Two minutes later there was a crystal glass with an amber liquid in front of me. I took a small sip, my hand shaking when I set it back down.

So much information had been dropped on me in the last half hour.

Vogue.

An Academy Award named after me.

Edward writing about me.

An Academy Award named after me.

Performing at one of the most high-profile award shows in a few months.

A goddamn motherfucking Academy Award named after me.

"A goddamn motherfucking Academy award named after you," Edward said with a large smile, holding his own drink up to me before finishing it in one gulp.

"Oh… I didn't mean to…"

"I know. You get this cute little glazed over look on your face when you accidently speak your thoughts." He was so nonchalant. Acting like the biggest bomb hadn't just been dropped at this table.

I supposed it wasn't as big to him as it was to me.

But… still.

Boom.

Dark…

The rest of the day went by without me really accomplishing anything. Eventually I ended up on the couch in Edward's office while he worked, googling everything Kate and Heidi had said about me.

There were statistics and articles, some reliable and some obviously clickbait. But, over the last twenty some odd years, there had been a change in the entertainment industry. Women were treated (slightly) better, and there were more women in typically male dominated fields like directing or producing. Popular culture was recognized more often now, though there were still plenty of pompous, elitist films that made the rounds as well.

These were all great things, something I was glad happened in my industry, but I still didn't get why I was being partially credited for helping it happen.

I thought back to the first few times I had been to shows like the Golden Globes or the Oscars. They were stuffy and formal and terrifying. I had executives telling me how to act and what to say. I had to sit in the audience with a smile and do as I was told.

Then, I supposed I kind of broke the mold when Welcome to the Badlands was nominated. It wasn't a film anyone thought was Oscar worthy, and everyone assumed I had killed my career by doing a film about myself. I liked getting the story straight, though, and it was a good way to get that done.

It was successful as hell, despite all the criticisms. It became a well-respected film and album, and when I sat through awards shows when it was nominated I didn't have people telling me what to do.

I did it on my own.

I started funding, producing, and directing my own films when I was nineteen. Looking back on it now, it was kind of a big fuck you to the traditional way films were made. They weren't just my own films, either, they were films that were catered to a younger audience, as opposed to the seventy-year-old men that liked to call themselves the experts on all things film and music in the Academy.

Huh.

I kept scrolling through articles, some years old, that talked about the changes that had been visible in awards season the last decade or so. There was one Vogue article that –

Vogue.

"Shit."

"What's wrong?" Edward asked, his attention still mostly on the computer in front of him.

"You have to write an article for Vogue."

He turned toward me, smiling softly. "What do you think I've been doing the last two hours?"

"You already started?" I threw my laptop to the side of the couch and went over to the side of his desk to peek at his screen. The document was closed before I could even get to him.

"I'm just doing my research for now."

"Research? What on earth do you have to research?" I dropped into the chair opposite of his desk.

"They called me a few hours before the meeting and told me about the Vogue opportunity, just to make sure I was okay with it before they brought it to you. I like the idea of being the one telling your story, showing the world the softer side of you."

"Yeah, but –"

"No buts. I'm nothing if not thorough, you know. I'll be scheduling an interview in the coming weeks."

I couldn't stop the cackle that escaped my lips. "An interview?"

"I can't write a through article on you without an interview, Isabella," he told me, his giant smile finally breaking through the serious façade he had going on.

Later that night, the article was still going through my head. What could he even say? A quarter of our relationship revolved around illegal dealings for crying out loud.

After I brushed my teeth I got into bed, frowning at the laptop perched on Edward. He was, apparently, taking the article very seriously.

"What are you going to say?"

He looked over at me, a sparkle in his mossy eyes. "Do you really not trust me to write an article on you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Of course, I trust you. I just… want to know what you're going to say."

I hadn't done a real in-depth interview or magazine spread in years. Was that where the anxiety was coming from? It should have been less, because I knew Edward wouldn't twist my words around to make a better headline or make me look like an idiot.

Then, I realized I had spent two decades shutting down every question anyone asked about my husband or life in Chicago. I didn't want people poking into the life I had here with Edward or especially Aiden. I liked keeping them to myself, my own little paradise.

"I don't like sharing you," I admitted, tugging my knees up to my chest along with the comforter, hoping it would swallow me whole.

"What makes you think you have to share me because of the article?"

"Well… no offence, but a lot of people hate you." He smiled, probably liking that most people hated him, so I kept going. "When you write an article and everyone sees how sweet you can be, people are going to be all over you. We never had to deal with the whole 'crazy teenage fans obsessed with you' thing, because you may be fucking gorgeous but you also terrify most people that google you, you know?"

Even as I was saying it, it didn't really make any sense to me. I was glad we never went through any phase where girls were changing their names to Cullen or obsessed over my husband's looks. That was just… weird. Thankfully most saw him too intimidating for that.

Edward sighed, not an upset sigh, just a soft one as he closed his computer and pulled me into his lap. I used to think it was a sweet gesture, him pulling me to straddle his lap to have a serious conversation. Now, I knew it was just so I would have to look him in the eyes, so I would have no choice to but tell him exactly what was wrong. It was still sweet, but also an underhanded trick.

"I'm always yours, you know."

I rolled my eyes. "I know that." It was blasphemy, thinking of either of us with anyone else at this point. "I just… kinda like that I'm the only one that likes you. Is that crazy?"

Yes, there were women in Chicago that still threw themselves at him when given the opportunity, but it was rare these days. I wasn't ready for articles coming out, talking about how perfect my husband was. Shit, I was crazy.

"We have opposite ways of looking at the situation," Edward said, pressing a kiss to my forehead and squeezing my hips. "See, I've spent the last few decades loving that I had the girl everyone talked about. I like coming home and knowing there are millions of people out there who would literally kill to have what I have."

"That's an exaggeration," I said quietly, my eyes drifting to the collar of his shirt, my fingers tugging at it to distract me.

"Besides, you're giving me far too much credit if you think one article is going to repair a lifetime of crime."

That was probably true. Still my curiosity was going to get the best of me. Maybe I was a little more on board with the idea now, but I still wanted to know what he was going to write.

"What are you thinking?"

I shrugged. "Just wondering what kind of sexual favors I had to offer to get to read the article as you write it."

Edward threw his head back with a laugh. Once he regained his composure he looked at me with the smirk that usually led to much more fun times. His voice was deep, slightly softer when he spoke into my ear. "Not to be crude, but there's not a thing I could ask you to do that you wouldn't."

I dropped my head to his shoulder when I felt my cheeks heat up. He was right, of course. That was what over two decades of being together got you. I would let him do anything, had let him do anything. Hell, years ago I agreed to us trying anal sex a few times before I decided it definitely wasn't my thing.

Nothing was ever boring with Edward, whether he touched me slow and sweet or rough and hard, he still made my cheeks blush and my toes curl. And yeah, he could ask me to suck his cock on a Tuesday afternoon and I would, or tell me to meet him at home on a Thursday after lunch for a quickie and I'd be there.

I sighed into his shoulder. "You really think I… we can do this?"

It was one thing when everything was just an idea. Wheels were turning now, and I had important decisions to make.

"Yes." Edward's voice was so confident, so sure that I had no choice but to believe him.

Dark…

A few days later, my mind was still a little fuzzy thanks to the chaos that suddenly surrounded every day. I had managed to get the label back to normal, a little bit, thanks in large part to everyone there knowing I would be releasing… something in the coming months. All artists remaining on the label were sent an option to leave, because I was tired of their shit. If they wanted out, they were all given an amount that would buy them out of their contracts. Only a few took it, which I was fine with. The artists remaining were some of my favorites, and that was good with me. In time, I would build the label into something better, but it wasn't my complete focus now.

The few women I kept on months ago were life savers, and I trusted them completely with the label. They were competent and kind, and I trusted them and the few people they found over the last couple of months to make sure things were going smoothly while I worked on other things.

Other things that I still had no fucking clue what to do with.

If this was years ago, I would string these songs into a film, go all out with it. These were different though, they were from times people had already heard about, but were from a different perspective. I needed to put the whole story together, without repeating myself. No one wanted the same film made over and over again.

I was on my way out to spend the day staring at the stage Edward had set up, hoping it would give me some kind of answer. There was a package at the door when I opened it. Looking at the return address, I saw it was from Heidi.

I thought about just setting it inside and getting on with my day, but she hadn't told me she was sending anything and my curiosity overruled everything else.

There were seven scripts in the box, and the tile on the cover page made me nauseous. The People v. Isabella Cullen.

With everything that had been going on, the television series about the trial had been completely forgotten. I pulled up a small sticky note that was attached to the first script.

If anyone asks, you didn't get these from me. ~ H

My plan for the day changed and I spent my time going through each script, line by line and getting more furious as I went on. There were things in here I was shocked people knew, things I had purposefully left out of my film. My confusion was solved when I looked at a list of 'resources' at the end of the last script and saw a few familiar names.

Embry Call.

Riley Biers.

Tanya Volturi.

Irina Volturi.

They were all inside sources the writers used to make the story accurate. Yeah, maybe it was a little hypocritical of me to be so pissed that they were making an accurate depiction of what happened when it was true, but it was decades ago. Aro was a filthy, vile man and made the choice to come after me. I shouldn't have to still feel guilty about that now, and I shouldn't have to have a whole new generation of people hate me because of it.

The scripts in my hands made me second guess, triple guess, everything I was planning. They left me feeling defeated and sad and like I wanted to run away to the island again and never come back.

My eyes drifted to my right, to the table I had beside the couch in my office. There was a picture of Edward with Aiden when he was about ten. They were in the middle of an empty baseball field, wearing matching caps. Edward had Aiden perched on his shoulders, both with matching smiled on their faces.

I grabbed the frame, smiling down at them. The best thing I had ever done was right there, those two. The awards, the music, it all paled compared to having the family I never knew I wanted.

Part of me started to panic that this special would hurt Aiden, maybe cause some of his friends to turn on him because of it. He dove head first into the trial when he started becoming aware of the family business, but it still left a pit in my stomach to think about him watching something like this. Because a lot of it was true thanks to the inside sources.

Legally, there was nothing I could do to get the show stopped. There had to be something I could do, though. Maybe there was someone I could talk to, to get the series scrapped, or something I could do to get people to ignore it completely.

A distraction. That was all I needed.

My head started spinning, possibilities flashing through my mind. Apparently, all I needed was the reminder of this crude remake to help me figure out the perfect plan.

Dark…

The whole thing seemed a bit ridiculous to me. Edward knew me better than anyone, so the idea that he needed to interview me in order to write an article about me seemed insane. He was taking the whole thing so seriously, though, and it was pretty adorable.

He even went through the trouble of scheduling the interview through Heidi and Claire and not, I don't know, asking me in the morning when we brushed our teeth side by side or any of the other countless opportunities he would have had to just ask me to dinner.

I spent twenty minutes starting at my closet because I wasn't sure what tonight was. If I was going to an interview with a journalist, I'd wear something a little professional. If I was going to dinner with my husband, I would wear either something casual or something to drive him crazy.

Tonight, I ended up with a simple, long sleeved black dress that went to my knees, and a baby blue overcoat. Something had me nervous about tonight, which was stupid. If it was anyone other than Edward asking me a million and one questions, I should have been nervous. Maybe I was just… anxious about it.

Story of my life.

The restaurant he had chosen was formal, because Edward didn't really do anything else. The lights were dim and the tables covered in elegant cream cloths. As usual, one look at me and the hostess nodded to herself and led me to a private room in the back. Somehow, Edward had nearly every restaurant in the city trained to ask no questions and give every member of the family a private table or room.

Edward stood when the door opened, walking around to pull my chair out. The hostess was gone before I could thank her, but Edward took my coat and then returned to his chair.

"Thank you for meeting me, Mrs. Cullen," Edward said, smiling at me from his spot across the table.

I snorted at the formalities. "My pleasure, Mr. Cullen."

"I ordered you the salmon you like so much," he told me.

I frowned. I assumed he was going to keep up the journalist façade the whole night. Switching back and forth would be exhausting.

"If you'd like something else I can –"

"No, salmon is fine. I just… are we doing the interview as journalist and interviewee or husband and wife?"

"We can't be both?"

"I suppose so," I shrugged. "It's just… weird."

"Why is it weird?" he asked, leaning forward like we were having the most riveting conversation imaginable.

"Because… I've hated interviews, and most interviewers, since I was seventeen. But, I don't hate you. It's weird."

Edward sat back, twirling his wedding band around his finger, staring at me. "Would you rather we pretended to be strangers during the interview? Would that make it easier?"
Bleh. "No. Let's just… get started."

I needed to get over whatever this weirdness was for me. I took a sip of the wine in front of me, smiling against the glass when Edward opened the voice recording application on his phone, and pulled out a small notebook. Always so thorough.

"Are you ready?"

"Ask away," I answered with a smile, enjoying how much he seemed to be interested in the whole process. Like I was hoarding some big, giant secret that he didn't know. I was fairly certain Edward knew every inane, unimportant detail about my life, but I would answer whatever he asked.

He started simple, things about the early stages of my career. What made you decide to agree to the audition for Tainted in the first place? What went through your mind when you realized this could be your full-time career? Are there any projects you regret doing, any people you wish you had never worked with? What was going through your mind winning an Academy Award for the first time?

Most of them were questions I had been asked before. Some got shut down before I could answer, because Claire was exceptional at her job and never allowed anyone to ask me a question I didn't want to answer. Edward, obviously, didn't run his questions by her. There was no reason to. I answered everything honestly.

But, then, he started getting into the real stuff. The kind of questions that made me stop doing promotion for my own personal projects.

"Why did you start the habit of making movies about your own life?"

I sighed, picking at the salmon left on my plate. It was something I knew a lot of people wondered, but it was also something I knew some understood. The former definitely outnumbered the latter.

"Ever since I was sixteen the public has had this… unyielding need to know everything about me. That's not even my ego talking, either. I don't really know what it was. Maybe it was because I started when social media really took over and it was that much easier for people know everything about you or tear you apart online or speculate about your every move.

"There were people that I knew were interested because they truly liked me. We've all had that celebrity crush or idol that we just want to know everything about. So, I did it as much for them as I did for the people that enjoyed calling me a bitch because I wasn't able to stop for a picture or the ones that called me a whore for dating Peter Clark because they had a crush on him."

I shrugged. "It was also just a way to express myself, I guess. I had never been very good at coping with my feelings, and putting out music about how I felt was a good way to learn how to speak my mind I think. Combining it with a movie gave me the opportunity to tell the story more accurately, and acting was kind of my crutch. I wasn't very confident with my music when I first started, but I was confident with my acting.

"I think… growing up I didn't have much of a back bone. I let people walk all over me and its always something I've regretted. I guess I've just always had a thing about having the last word since then."

"There's nothing wrong with not wanting people to make assumptions about you, or wanting to set the record straight," Edward said softly. I wasn't sure if I had ever really explained why I did what I did to him. He understood it was my job, but he might not have understood why it meant so much to me.

"Yeah, well, when you're a woman who expresses a feeling the world likes to give you shit for it."

That led to a whole conversation on sexism which led to more about my time behind the scenes, in positions typically dominated by men. We were sharing a slice of delicious chocolate cake when he brought up a new subject.

"What are your thoughts on the Isabella Cullen Lifetime Achievement award at this year's Academy Awards?"

"My thoughts are… all over the place, really. I keep thinking it's all in my head, or that it's a prank or something."

The whole thing seemed surreal, too good to be true. I was just waiting for it to all fall apart.

"You don't think you earned it?"

"God, no," I blurted out. "I'm proud of what I've done, I love most projects I've been lucky enough to be part of, but this lifetime achievement award… having it named after me… it's a big fucking deal. And I don't know if I…"

I trailed off, knowing what I was about to say would upset Edward. Because, as much as I had tried to think of this as just me talking to someone about my career, it wasn't. Edward was never just another person. He was the person. My person.

"If you…"

"If I deserve it."

I saw the flash of anger in his eyes when I said it, knew he wanted to tell me I was wrong and didn't see myself or my career clearly. Instead, he sat back, twirling his fork between his fingers. He had done a great job at keeping his opinions to himself, mostly.

"What is your favorite song or lyric you've written?"

The new topic was sudden, but I was grateful for it. "I don't know if I have a favorite."

"You do. At least a handful of favorites. One of my personal favorites is I'm not a bad girl, but I do bad things with you. I love all of the… different meanings it can have." His lips lifted in that crooked smile that typically preceded the aforementioned bad things he was talking about. "I can't give away any more, though. You'll have to wait for the article for that."

"You have a list of your favorite songs for the issue?" That was news to me.

Edward nodded, writing something in the notebook he had in front of him. My heart clenched and I reached over, turning off the recorder in front of him.

"Is everything – "

"Thanks for doing this," I blurted out.

"Shouldn't I be thanking you?"

"No, I just… the whole article and everything, it means a lot to me that you're putting yourself out there like that."

"When Heidi first mentioned it, you didn't seem so excited about it."

"I know, but I… really appreciate you doing all of this." He'd asked so many questions, and looked so genuinely interested in every word I had said tonight. It made my nerves and weirdness at the beginning of dinner seem stupid.

"Anyway…" I sighed, reaching back over to turn the recorder back on. "Back to your favorite songs."

It was late by the time Edward had everything he needed, though he still reserved the right to schedule a follow up interview if necessary. I felt all bubbly on the car ride home. Edward kept one hand on the wheel and the other covered mine on the gear shift. Maybe it was because I had to practically relive my entire life the last four hours, but whenever I looked over at Edward I got butterflies in my stomach, or tingles up my spine. More so than usual.

It was a little weird, realizing how much shit we had been through and knowing we survived it all. We had hit rock bottom more than once and he was still by my side, holding my hand and doing whatever he could to support me.

I was still lost in my musings when we got home, watching Edward out of the corner of my eye and realizing how utterly boring my life would have been without him.

"You've been staring at me since we left the restaurant," Edward said, back to me while he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it in the closet.

I let myself fall to the edge of the bed with a plop, my eyes dropping from the back I was dying to touch. "Sorry."

Edward walked over to me, standing so close to me I had to crane my neck up to see his face and try my hardest not to give in to the urge to lean in and lick the abdomen in front of me.

"What are you thinking?"

"You'll think it's stupid," I mumbled.

He shrugged. "Try me."

"I was thinking that… it's cool that you're my husband."

"It's… cool?"

"Yeah," I said with a smile. It took a little maneuvering with the dress I was in, but eventually I ended up kneeling on the bed, face to face with Edward. "You're tall and handsome and do sweet things for me all of the time. You put up with my weird job and don't get mad when you have to deal with my quirks. It's just… cool that you're still my husband and haven't gotten sick of me yet."

Edward shook his head with a small smile, finally dropping his hands to my hips and giving them a small squeeze. "I think it's cool that you're my wife."

"Yeah?" I asked, feeling a smile twitch at the edges of my mouth. I rested my hands on his bare shoulders, barely repressing a groan at the skin to skin contact.

"Yeah," he said, gently pushing me so I ended up with my head on a fluffy pillow and his entire upper body pressing me into the bed. "You fit perfectly right here and you always smell like fresh strawberries. You put up with me coming home covered in blood and never give me shit for working odd hours."

His hands roamed as he spoke. Straying from my hips and drifting up my sides, just barely skimming the sides of my breast with enough pressure to drive me insane. "Do you know what one of my favorite things about having you as my wife is, Bella?"

I closed my eyes, sighing peacefully when his lips descended on my neck. It took me a few seconds to remember he had asked a question. "N-no."

"It's knowing exactly how to play your body, knowing every spot that makes you squirm or moan. It's knowing the perfect combination of touches and strokes that will have you coming with your head thrown back in silent ecstasy or shaking with a scream."

My eyes blacked out a little at his description, but the sharp sting of teeth through my dress, over my nipple brought me back. "Yeah, that… that's a good part of it, too."

Edward smirked down at me a moment before his lips attacked mine in a heated kiss. His tongue tangled with mine the same second a hand snuck under my rumpled dress. I squealed against the kiss, hips bucking up into his hand when it found just where I needed him most.

That was the thing with Edward. It didn't matter how long we'd been together or when the last time he touched me was. Every goddamn time it was like heaven and hell all wrapped up in one. Absolute pleasure combined with the torture of it never being enough.

It didn't matter that we had all night, had all the time in the world to touch and taste and savor. Sometimes we had just barely enough self-control to get all of the right clothes pushed out of the way.

My dress was bunched around my waist and Edward had somehow unzipped his pants just enough to free himself. By all appearances, this would be a quick, hard fuck. Instead, once Edward slide inside me, he moved tortuously slow.

His eyes stared down at me like I was the most precious thing in the world and his body rocked with mine despite the random articles of clothing hanging off of us.

Every time he was flush against me my fingers tensed against his back, and every time Edward lost a little bit of his control and thrust a little harder than usual he grunted into my neck.

"I love you," I whimpered after minutes, hours of the slow torture. At some point, my dress got discarded completely and Edward had kicked his pants out of the way. My black panties were haphazardly pushed to the side still, and the cups of my bra twisted and pushed aside.

"Bella," he sighed, never stopping when my entire body started to convulse under him.

There was something to be said for the realization that, even after sharing wedding vows decades ago, this man would always be by my side. I smiled into the mess of hair that was tickling my nose, pressing a kiss to his head. Yeah, it was pretty fucking cool that Edward Cullen was my husband.

Dark…

Rehearsals were exhilarating. There was something so magical about working every day with people just as passionate about their craft. Band members who lived for the thrill of playing music live and dancers that just wanted to push themselves as far as they could go.

We started rehearsing at the beginning of the year, when some of the more boring tasks to pull everything together were done. Delilah had spent the time from when the family found out about my plan to now convincing Alice and Jasper to let her take a year off of school to work with me. I stayed out of it completely, telling her it was all up to them.

We all knew as soon as she got the idea in her head, there was no denying it. She was Alice's daughter, after all. She was a damn good dancer, too, so I had no qualms about giving her a spot without so much as an audition.

Things were early still, and everyone was still getting to know each other, but we were on the track to getting into a grove. That meant a lot of tripping over each other and falling and bruises, but it was all going to be worth it.

I sighed, walking into the warm house, and shrugging off my giant, puffy coat. I wanted out of my sweaty t-shirt and leggings, and into a warm shower. The water was heavenly, and I wanted to spend the rest of the night in the warmth. No matter how long I lived here, Chicago winters were always fucking brutal.

I pulled on a pair of Northwestern sweatpants and one of Edward's black t-shirts. The sound of voices pulled me down the hall, where I saw Aiden sitting opposite of Edward at his desk.

"I didn't know you were coming home tonight."

"Oh, shit. Hey, Ma," Aiden's face immediately showed guilt all over it.

"What'd you do?"

"What?"

"If you're going to work for your father, you're going to have to get better at lying and concealing your feelings. You have guilt written all over you."

"You're just too good at reading people," Aiden grumbled, standing and wiping his hands on his jeans. Sweaty palms, another check in the guilty column. "I've got to go, but I'll see you on Saturday for dinner, okay?"

I nodded and he gave me a quick hug before walking out. The odd behavior left me falling down a rabbit hole of possibilities, all of them ending with Aiden back on drugs. "You don't think he's –"

"He's clean," Edward said quickly. "He's just asked me to do his dirty work."

I cocked my head to the side. "What?"
Edward stood and led me over to the couch in the corner of his office. He pulled my feet into his lap, firmly massaging a day's worth of rehearsing away. The warm hands and calloused fingers helped me forget about everything for a while.

"He has a girlfriend."

My eyes, which had fallen closed against the arm of the couch, popped open at Edward's nonchalant announcement. "Aiden? Has a girlfriend?"
"Yes. They've been together for almost six months apparently."

Six months. Probably right when he got to school. That was a long time in college, wasn't it? I wasn't great with relationship timelines. I met Edward and slept in his bed the next night, something I was sure broke every timeline most people thought was appropriate for a relationship.

"He's going to bring her to dinner Saturday."

Shit. Aiden had never brought a girl home, never told either of us about a girl before. I wasn't naive enough to think there had never been any, either.

"Why didn't he tell me himself?" I tried to think if there had ever been anything I could have said or done that made him think he couldn't tell me that sort of thing. Yeah, I had Edward give him the sex talk years ago, but what teenage boy wanted to talk to their mom about sex? Did that make him think I wasn't comfortable talking about his relationships at all?

"Because this girl, Adeline, she's graduating from the law school at Northwestern and is on track to work at the prosecutor's office in the fall."

Well, that would be enough to scare him off from telling me himself, I supposed. The state prosecutor's office was full of people that worked countless hours to put me behind bars, and ones that would do it all over again if they had the chance. Me, Edward, anyone with the name Cullen would be a win for them.

"Do you think…" I didn't want to say it, because I didn't want it to be true. Aiden had been through a lot of shit, and it would be nice if he didn't have to deal with backstabbing, selfish women so soon after everything went to hell.

"She's using him? He doesn't think so. I've already got people working on an extensive background check. She'll be… monitored from here on out."

"What's her name again?"

"Adeline Carter."

Adeline Carter. It was a pretty name, Adeline. She was probably a gorgeous girl, too. I, of all people, shouldn't be one to judge based on hearsay, but the girl had me feeling uneasy.

I didn't want Aiden to get hurt, and I didn't want her to hurt anyone else in my family either. In the back of my mind, there was a little bit of betrayal clouding my thoughts, even though I knew Aiden wasn't doing this to hurt me.

The thought of sitting across from this girl who had spent years studying to be the kind of person that emotionally tortured me for a year left me sick to my stomach.

"It's okay to feel a little… hurt by it," Edward whispered.

"It's not about me," I sighed.

"No, but there does seem to be a sense of… betrayal in it, doesn't there?"

I frowned. "Do you think he's…"

"No, he seems very divided about it himself. He was too scared to tell you."

"Why was he scared?"

"Because you've been an excellent mother to him, gone above and beyond to make sure he's happy, healthy, and safe, and he knows how it looks. He doesn't want to disappoint you or hurt you, but this girl seems… important."

"Important, important?" I asked. He was only eighteen, nineteen in a few months. That was too young to be talking about that kind of important, right?

"If I had met you when I was nineteen and you were… not six years younger than me, I would have been hooked."

Damn. I met Edward when I was nineteen. That was one hell of a counter point if I ever brought that up to Aiden.

"You know, if I had known we'd end up with a kid I would have done a lot less shady shit that could get held over my head in the future."

Met Edward at nineteen. Married less than two years later… If Aiden followed that timeline he'd be married when he was twenty. Damn.

"Shady shit, huh?" Edward asked, pulling me along the couch and settling me over his lap. "Shady shit is the best kind."

I rested my head against Edward's shoulder, not realizing that I was about three seconds from falling asleep. My head did that awkward jerk when I realized it.

"Let's get you to bed," Edward said, standing with me in his arms and walking us slowly down the hall.

Dark…

This was stupid. Stupid, an invasion of privacy, hopefully not illegal, it was so many things but I couldn't talk myself out of it. Edward had showed me the file on Adeline Carter the day after he had told me about her. She seemed like a normal, respectable girl, but I couldn't help myself. Aiden was one of the two most important people in my life, and the thought of some girl using him or hurting him killed me.

I sat in the car, staring at the apartment building. It wasn't the nicest place in town, but there were definitely worse places to live, especially if you were a college student. It was one of the rare moments when I had driven myself somewhere. Alistar was parked right beside me, of course, but I used the drive to talk myself out of this.

I wasn't very convincing.

I grabbed my bag and got out of the car. It was a Friday afternoon, so there were some students milling around. The complex had a small courtyard with a picnic table and some chairs. A couple of girls were sitting together, talking but staring at their phones at the same time.

Her apartment wasn't hard to find. It was listed on the information Edward had gotten. I took a deep breath, standing in front of the grey door with a gold 3D hanging on it, and gave myself one more chance to talk myself out of it.

Before I could stop myself, I knocked quietly three times.

If I was here for anything other than what I was, her face when she opened the door would have been comical. She was beautiful. Dark blonde hair that was natural, not that platinum color that was so obviously from a bottle. Her face was round and her eyes, the most beautiful blue I had ever seen, like a prettiest ocean imaginable, were staring at me wide and shocked behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses.

Adeline obviously wasn't expecting company. She was in a pair of shorts that made me cold just seeing them, and a sweatshirt I was fairly certain I had bought for my son a year ago.

"M-Mrs. Cullen," she stuttered, her voice a smidge deeper than Alice's, but not much.

"May I come in?" I felt my phone vibrate in my purse, but ignored it. It was probably Edward asking where I was, and I didn't have time to explain.

"Oh, um, yes, of course." She stood aside, sweeping her arm along and welcoming me in.

Her apartment was adorable, very colorful despite the somewhat dreary exterior of the building. She had four different colored chairs at the small table, and the most colorful kitchenware scattered along her small counter. The small couch had a bright purple blanket slung along the back. Other than those few things, there was a door on the far side of the wall that I assumed led to her bedroom.

It was nice. Quiet, calm, peaceful.

"Can I get you anything to drink? I have… water?"

"No, thank you." I pointed at the table, my hand resting on the bright blue chair. "May I?"

She nodded, taking a seat in the hot pink chair across from me.

"I don't want to take up a lot of your time, I'm sure you're busy." The other half of the table was covered in books and papers, a few pens scattered around. "You're dating my son."

"I… yes."

"He's bringing you to dinner tomorrow."

"You don't want me to go," she said, her eyes falling to the table.

"No, that's not it. I don't want you to use my son for your own personal gain."

She gasped, looking a little offended. "Mrs. Cullen, I'm not –"

"You don't need to explain yourself to me. If you're in this relationship for the right reasons, come to dinner. If you're in it because he's a Cullen, because you're trying to get a head start at your new job, or because you think it'll be fun to mess with my family, you need to stay the fuck away.

"I know dinner tomorrow doesn't give you a lot of time, but you need to make a choice. Be there for him through hell and back, leave him before you get in too deep, or use him until you fuck up eventually and I take care of you myself."

There was a flash of something across her face, fear and shock mixed in with something else I couldn't figure out. Adeline was quiet, so I continued. "I'm sure you of all people know I would do anything to protect my family, my son especially."

I sighed, watching her sit there silently. Yes, I sounded like a bitch, but I needed to know Aiden wasn't getting screwed over. "I'm sorry for interrupting your studies. I'll let you get back to it."

Grabbing my bag off the floor I stood and headed to the door. Adeline's voice was quiet as I twisted the handle. "I'm not using him."

Turning back to look at her, she seemed so sad. Was she sad because she truly cared about Aiden, or because I already called her bluff? "I sincerely hope you aren't."

As soon as the door was closed behind me I took a deep breath, praying that what I had done was the right thing. The conversation played in my head over and over again while I drove down to Edward's office.

I gave his secretary a smile before walking in. I never usually knocked, because it was cute to see him get all angry and flustered thinking someone came in without knocking first. Then, he would look up and see me and it all transformed into the crooked smile I loved so much. This time I couldn't enjoy it as much as I usually did.

I plopped myself in a chair across from him and sighed. "I did something bad."

Edward leaned forward on his desk, hands crossed in front of him. "How bad?"

"I mean, no one's dead, so it's not the worst thing I've ever done."

Edward huffed out a laugh. "So, what did you do, then?"

I stared at my hands, because I knew in about three seconds his eyes would lose the entertained spark they had. "I went and talked to Adeline Carter."

"Bella," he sighed. When I looked up at him he had a hand running through his hair, tugging at the ends.

"I just needed to –"

"Do you know how furious I would have been if Esme had 'talked' to you when we first got together?"
It stung, hearing him compare me to Esme. The woman who had no problem abandoning her children and never looking back. "Don't compare me to her, Edward. You don't even know what I said."

"You threatened her, told her that if she was with Aiden for the wrong reasons you would make sure she regretted it."
Damnit. "Okay, so, you know what I said. But –"

"But, nothing, Bella. He's only eighteen, but he's an adult. Has been for a long time, whether we like it or not."

"I just wanted to…" Take away anything that would hurt him, as unrealistic as that was.

Edward came around the desk, kneeling in front of me and cupping my cheek so I looked down at him. "I know what you wanted to do. Your need to protect everyone… put yourself in the line of fire so no one else is hurt… it's something I simultaneously love and hate about you."

"I just don't want him to get hurt," I sighed. I went too far, I knew that, but I was also having a hard time regretting it completely.

"I know," Edward said quietly, leaning up to press a soft kiss to the corner of my lips.

Dark…

I sat at the counter, tugging at the sleeves of the little black dress I had on. It was layered in lace, flowy at the bottom with a soft scoop neck. The dress details were easier to focus on than what was coming.

Dinner. Family. Aiden. Adeline.

Neither Edward or I had heard from Aiden since my talk with Adeline yesterday. I wasn't sure if that was a good or bad sign.

Everyone else was in the living room, talking away, but I used the excuse of needing to finish the food to sneak away. The food was done, warming in the oven, so I used the time to sit here and sulk.

I still didn't completely regret what I had done, but there were probably a million other better ways I could have handled the situation. Especially if it was something that caused Edward to compare me to his own mother.

Esme had been polite enough to me in the beginning, but there was always something off about it. Fake. Eventually she got comfortable enough to let everyone know she didn't approve of me; whether it be the tattoos, my job, or anything else.

Her disapproval didn't come from a place of love, though. It was a selfish kind of disapproval, because she wanted Edward with a girl of her choosing.

It wasn't even that I didn't approve of this girl, though her job was certainly something to take in to account. If she walked in here with Aiden and he was happy and in love, I would stand behind them completely.

It was just terrifying, letting go of him. Not being the one to take care of him all the time. Letting him out in the world to make his own mistakes. It sucked.

A bottle slid in front of me and I took a sip without a care, grimacing at the taste of the bitter beer. "Beer is gross."

Edward chuckled, taking the bottle from me. "You like my cock in your mouth, but think beer is gross."

I sighed. "I'm not in the mood for sexual banter, Edward."

"Hey." The stool I was sitting on spun, so it was easy for him to get me to turn and face him. A warm hand cupped my chin, tilting my face up. "Everything will work out."

"Not if I'm turning in to your mother."

Edward frowned. "You're not –"

"You compared me to her. Yesterday, in your office."

The hand under my chin tightened the slightest bit. "You're not Esme, Bella."

"But, you –"

"It was a poor choice of words, and I'm sorry. You did what you did because you wanted to keep Aiden from getting hurt, not because you want to control him. There's a big difference."

I sighed, grabbing his bottle and taking another swig. Even though I knew it was coming, I still grimaced at the bitterness. "A blowjob might not taste the best but it's more rewarding than a beer."

Edward smirked down at me. "There's my girl."

He pulled me off of my stool and led me to the living room. I sat on the couch between Alice and Delilah, smiling as she told her mother about rehearsals. Edward brought me a glass of wine before wandering over to Emmett and Jasper. Just when I started to get worried that neither Aiden or Adeline would show, the front door opened and they both walked in.

Aiden was in a nice button down and a pair of jeans. He'd started dressing more like an adult and less like a teenager lately, something I knew was probably thanks to his motivation to work more closely with Edward. Adeline looked beautiful, in a pretty baby blue dress that flowed to her knees. Her hair was in an intricate braid that framed her face, the glasses I saw her in last gone.

I stood, excusing myself from Alice and Delilah. It broke my heart a little to see Aiden's hand tighten on Adeline's waist, like he was saying he would protect her from me. Aiden glared at me when I stopped in front of them both.

"I need to talk to you," he grunted, eyes locked on me.

"I know, but I need to talk to her first," I said, my eyes drifting to Adeline.

"No fucking way."

"Watch yourself, Aiden," Edward said, appearing by my side.

"Just a couple minutes," I reasoned.

Before Aiden could refuse again, Adeline spoke up. "Okay."

I smiled at her in thanks, leading her toward the kitchen. I pointed to the stool I was sitting at just a few minutes ago and she sat down, hands folded on the counter in front of her.

"Can I get you something to drink? Water, soda, wine?" Her brows furrowed at the mention of wine. "I know you're older than Aiden."

She had just turned twenty-three. They were a little over five years apart, but I could hardly make a fuss about that considering Edward was a little over six years older than me. Age differences were the least of our problems.

"Just a water is fine, thank you."

I made the ice water quickly, setting it down in the middle of the island. I stayed on the other side, giving her some space. Running my fingers over the marble, I started my apology.

"I shouldn't have shown up at your apartment yesterday, and I'm sorry. You have every right to hate me. I just… I spent a long time doing everything I could to protect Aiden. It's a hard habit to break, I guess.

"I'm sorry for the things I said to you. If I made you uncomfortable or scared…"

"It's okay," Adeline interrupted. I looked up at her, and she was smiling at me. A soft, sweet smile that I didn't deserve.

"It's not. I –"

"You were looking out for your son, Mrs. Cullen. That's hardly a crime."

She was being far too kind to me. "I still shouldn't have butted in."

"Maybe not, but it's nice that Aiden has a mother who cares so much about him. My parents got divorced when I was a baby. My mother found a new guy pretty quickly and moved across the country without a second thought. I haven't seen her in about… seven years."

I sighed, knowing there was nothing I could say to make up for the betrayal. "Well, you've come to the right place. We're great with dealing with shitty parents, here."

Adeline barked out a laugh, quickly slapping a hand over her lips. I was glad she got the joke. "I'm sorry."

I smiled at her. "I really am sorry for the things I said… the assumptions I made… you didn't deserve that."

"It's okay, Mrs. Cullen."

"You can call me Bella. Let's go, I have more apologies to make."

"I told him not to be upset with you," Adeline said as we walked to the living room. "He's a little stubborn, though."

I sighed. "Yes, he never really had a chance not to be stubborn with Edward and I."

Edward and Aiden were entering the living room just as we were. Aiden looked sufficiently less angry with me, and I made a mental note to ask Edward what he said to calm him down.

Aiden stopped in front of me, looking down at me with a slight frown. "You know, I think you take this whole protect the family thing a bit too seriously, sometimes."
I couldn't really argue with him. "I'm sorry." It felt like all I was doing was apologizing tonight.

"I know," he sighed, giving me a tight hug. "She's great, isn't she?" he whispered.

My eyes met Edward's behind Aiden's back, and he nodded at me with a small smile. This was it for Aiden. The girl that would either stand by his side through everything, or the one that would break him if it got to be too much for her.

No one would be able to blame her if it was. I've had to sew up more injuries than I ever would have thought imaginable in the last few decades. Then there was the whole incarceration thing.

This wasn't a life for the average person, but Adeline was in a unique position. She, most likely, knew a lot of our secrets already. She knew what she was getting in to. Hopefully.

It took me years to come to terms with the fact that marrying Edward had changed me; my morals, my view on the world, a lot of things about me changed once I met him. When I was seventeen I never would have gone home with a man I had met twice, let him touch me or agree to some kind of trial period of a relationship. The second he told me what he did any sane person would have run and never turned back.

I could have turned, so easily I could have saved countless lives if I told Call what I knew of the Cullen family after the Aro incident. They were lives like Aro's, though, mostly people who were in to fucked up dealings and shady businesses. Maybe it made me a horrible person, but I didn't think twice about it when Edward came home covered in their blood anymore. Just like he didn't look at me like I was petty or vindictive because of what I was doing now.

Maybe it was fate, or maybe we were just both fucked up enough to see the good in each other, and understand the bad. Whatever it was, it worked for us. I supported him through every charity event or shady deal and he had my back through every single movie or tour. Hell, the man even wrote multiple pieces for Vogue the last few months. He could pretend all he wanted, but he had too much fun creating his 'list of favorite songs and lyrics' for the issue. And I loved him for it.

All throughout dinner, watching Adeline get to know everyone, I hoped she was the one. The one who would stand by Aiden when he started working with Edward, who wouldn't put up a fight when he came home covered in blood because he was the kind of man she liked to put in prison.

I saw the way Aiden looked at her, and it was a look I could easily recognize because when I looked over at Edward, I got the same one.

A/N: I was reading a story once, years ago, and in the author's note they wrote how they somehow ended up with a chapter that was 24 pages in a word document, that the words just kept coming. As a reader, I thought it was a completely crazy idea, that you could just… write so many pages without coming to a stopping point.

Well. Here I am. A 22-page chapter.

Details on Bella's plan are vague on purpose. All will be revealed soon. Hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you as soon as I can for the next one!