Yes, I got your letter

Yes, I'm doing better

I know that it's over, I don't need your

Closure

~ Taylor Swift, Closure

BPOV

There was no backing out as I stood behind the curtain. Being a guest on Edward's show was a cute idea in theory, but I was hardly entertaining enough and had assumed he'd lose interest in the idea eventually. But his excitement over the whole ordeal only grew. And I knew he was doing it so people would stop running with the story that I was a gold-digging adulterous whore, so I could hardly be upset over the whole thing.

It was hard to reconcile my own job of keeping his image protected with his desire to protect me. They should have been easier concepts to mesh together, but the public was fickle and they loved a good scandal. I knew, even with this show, people would still assume I was with him for his money or status. There would always be people that saw Edward as the kind of man who got tired of his own wife and traded her in for a younger model.

Even with the show, no one would ever understand. How irrevocably in love I was with the man. They would never realize that I still got butterflies in my stomach whenever he smiled at me or that, after everything we had been through, I would never take for granted falling asleep beside him every night.

This show would be it. The one tiny glimpse we would allow the public into our life before we retreated back into our own little bubble.

I dusted my fingers over my dress. It was white, the sleeves falling over my shoulders, and tight enough that I couldn't take too deep of a breath. Alice, Rosalie and I had discussed the various dress options for an hour this afternoon before I got bored of the conversation and let them choose for me. I had never been big on fashion, and never one to look at myself and think hey, you look hot but even I had to admit the dress accentuated every inch of me that it should have.

"We have quite the show planned for you tonight, ladies and gentlemen," Edward's voice boomed throughout the theater. "A show I can already confidently say will be my favorite I've ever had the privilege of filming, because it's a family affair here tonight. Please welcome our one and only guest for the evening: my lovely wife, Isabella Cullen."

I should have been nervous. Should have focused too much on the cameras and the lights and the crowd, but it was hard to worry about anything when Edward Cullen gave you that full faced, beaming smile.

An uncontrollable bubble of laughter escaped me as I sat on the plush couch beside his desk. It was the same laugh that always popped out whenever any of Masen's or Lucy's friends called him Mr. C. It was a surreal moment. One I never expected to enjoy so much, even with how odd it felt.

"What?" Edward asked as soon as the clapping stopped, eying me with those bright, happy forest eyes that I adored so much.

"Nothing," I shrugged, shaking my head. "This is just weird."

He looked like he was going to object for a moment, but then his brows furrowed as he placed his hands on his desk. "It is a little weird, isn't it?"

Before I could respond Edward stood up, walking around his desk in a few long strides before he sat down beside me. He angled himself toward me, casually leaning back against the couch.

I followed his lead, making myself more comfortable as I turned toward him. "This is better, but still weird."

"It's weird talking to me?" he questioned, even through his own laughter.

I playfully rolled my eyes. "You know what I mean."

"I do," Edward nodded. He sat back with a casual elegance that only came with years of experience in front of the camera. "It was only a couple of years ago that you accosted me in my dressing room and told me my show was awful."

My mouth dropped open and I angled myself more toward Edward. "Okay, I did not accost you. I was told to be there," I argued with a smile. It was a discussion we had gone in circles around before. "And I didn't say it in… those exact words."

"No," Edward amended, obviously having far too much fun. "I'm pretty sure you told me it was shit."

I huffed out a laugh, nearly certain that he was right. "In my defense, I had just spent weeks researching you and watching hours and hours of clips. I might have been a little… burned out."

"Oh, I know. It's how I ended up with this," he smiled, reaching behind him where he apparently stashed my notebook full of research when he came over.

"Edward," I whined. "I gave that to you after we started dating so you could destroy it. Not so you could use it against me for the rest of my life."

Edward smiled, ignoring me and turning to a tabbed page in the journal. "My favorite parts are the tallies in the corner of how often I would roll my eyes," he said, turning the book around and pointing to the little boxes in the corner of every page. "And how often arrogant asshole is written in the margins."

I shrugged, shaking my head. "I might have, you know, hated you a little bit before I met you."

"Oh, I'd say more than a little bit. Next time anyone writes a story about your master plan to seduce me from the get-go I'll send them a page out of this," he smirked, closing the notebook and setting it aside. "As I was going through the journal earlier, I did realize there's something I've never asked you before."

I pressed my lips together and hesitantly replied, "Okay."

Edward's lips twitched with a smile. "Did you ever see a single episode of the show before you were assigned to work with me?"

Refraining from biting my lips and disrupting the pale pink Alice had painted them earlier, I twisted my wedding rings around my finger and looked over at my husband. I had never seen a single episode of The Tonight Show before I was assigned to him. If I had known, if there had been some kind of sign that I could have been watching the man that would one day make me happier than I ever knew possible, I never would have missed an episode. I would have happily watched and waited for him.

"No," I sighed, feeling unrealistic guilt that there had ever been a time when I didn't. "I was… seventeen when you started the show, though. Late night television wasn't really my thing back then." I winced at the mention of my age and the stark contrast it brought between us. "I'm twenty-four now," I added quickly.

Edward shook his head with a laugh. "Excellent save, my love."

I shook my head. "Just, you know, to clarify," I mumbled, before a sly smile took over. "I did see all of your films, though. You're an excellent actor."

That earned me a hearty laugh from the crowd and Edward combined before he quickly segued to a commercial break. It wasn't a live show so there was no need to actually wait for a break, but the crew did take a couple minutes to situate themselves before we started back up again.

I looked over at Edward, suddenly nervous now that the conversation had stopped. "Am I doing okay?"

He leaned over with a smile. "You're amazing."

Taking a deep breath, I sat back and pressed my palms into my lap. I had no idea what I was doing. Half of the words that came out of my mouth had no permission from my brain to do so.

"Sorry I never watched your show before," I blurted out.

Edward shook his head. "That's okay. It sucked before you." He sobered up quickly. "Are you sure you want to talk about it?"

It was the one thing he had asked me in regards to the episode; whether I wanted to talk about Tyler. It hadn't been in his plan, hadn't even crossed his mind, until I told him that Alistair had gotten a couple dozen requests for interviews and magazine covers and full-page spreads since it happened. For me.

As uncomfortable as the whole thing made me, I understood the public interest. I had studied the industry for four years, been working in it for two, and I knew a juicy story when I saw one. This business was built on the public's desire to know every tiny detail about those in it, and with these shiny rings on my finger, I was in it.

I had three choices. I could let it slide; ignore it like I had been doing my entire life. I could talk to a random journalist and hope they didn't twist my words. Or, I could sit here on the couch next to my husband while he asked only the most minimally invasive questions and know that if I scratched my nose—our predetermined signal—he would immediately change the subject.

I nodded. "I'm sure."

The cameras were rolling again after another quick reintroduction. Edward turned toward me, seeming like he was the one that wanted to back out of the topic.

"It's okay," I told him, giving him a smile I hoped erased any guilt he might be feeling. "You can ask."

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"It's not as scandalous as the world seems to think," I shrugged. "My step-brother started abusing me when I was eight, when my mother married his father. I moved across the country for college to get away from him. After a while he started popping back up again, so I got a restraining order. He got pissed when that restraining order kept him from playing professional baseball and I ended up in surgery for six hours."

That was all I had intended to say. But my filter was nowhere to be found and I kept going. "I mean, I get it. I understand why there are so many stories floating around about it. I know that being with you makes me somewhat of a… public figure and people were curious after I ended up in the hospital. But it's a part of my life that I'd like to move on from. My step-brother, he's in prison. For what he did, for…"

My throat constricted. It was still hard. Saying the words out loud.

"For attempted murder. He was charged with attempted murder."

I nodded. "I guess it is as scandalous as people make it out to be." I twisted my wedding rings around my finger, reminding myself of what I had now and not letting myself get pulled too far back into my memories. As I spoke, I scratched the side of my nose. "I don't think anyone can make fun of our age difference anymore though, not when I'm the one with the new hip. We've got that going for us, at least."

Edward huffed out a shocked laugh. "I do still have both of my original hips."

"Now we have a good comeback whenever anyone tries to say you're only with me because I'm twenty-four and 'low maintenance,'" I chuckled, using air-quotes. "Hip replacements are not low maintenance."

Edward sat back, arm stretched out over the back of the couch. "There are many, many reasons I am with you Isabella Cullen, and your hips are only two of them."

My cheeks burned as Edward segued to another commercial. He stood, grabbing my hand and pulling me to my feet. He kept his back to the audience and cameras, effectively shielding me from any prying eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, cupping my cheek.

I nodded. "Yes. As long as we're not about to play that gross food game."

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around my waist and guiding me away from his desk and over to another section of the stage. "No, no gross foods. You never said anything about alcohol, though."

We approached a table, three shots on coasters on either side of it. I shrugged as Edward placed me on one side. "I could use a shot. Or eight."

Edward laughed, head flung back with all of his own anxiousness from earlier gone. "I love you," he sighed quietly as he was given a countdown before the cameras started up again. "You know as well as I do how… interested the public has been in our relationship since that picture leaked."

I frowned down at the shots, not knowing where he was going but nodding anyway. "Yes."

"So, I thought we could give them the answers to some of their burning questions." I opened my mouth to object because I knew what kind of questions they had and they were not things I was going to answer, but Edward smirked over at me and kept going. "Just the answers. Underneath each coaster is a question. You answer it, but if you don't want to reveal the question, you do a shot. If you want to tell us the question, you don't have to do the shot. Ready?"

I held up a finger, frowning down at the coasters on the table in front of me. "Hold on. Who wrote the questions?"

Edward smiled. "Your best friend, Rosalie."

"Oh, God," I grumbled, shaking my head. I turned, quickly finding her in the section reserved for Edward's family and friends. "So she's the only one that knows what the questions are? Who put them under the coasters?"

Edward chuckled, leaning over the table toward me. "Your publicist is showing, Mrs. Cullen."

I sighed, smiling despite myself and shaking my head. "Just… trying to find the trail."

Rosalie wouldn't have held anything back. She was always pestering me for details, and now was her chance. Along with the rest of the country.

"Rosalie is the only one who knows what the questions are," Edward clarified before motioning toward the first shot and coaster. "Ladies first."

I carefully placed the shot on the table, before lifting the coaster to read what was written on the tiny paper underneath.

Who did you lose your virginity to?

I snorted, remembering playing a practice game with Edward and getting the same question. It was an easy one, Rosalie was starting out slow because she already knew the answer. Even though no one else knew the question, my cheeks still burned as I read it again. I set the coaster down, eyes meeting Edward's across the table.

"Well?" he asked with a chuckle.

"You," I answered, before quickly downing the shot. Part of me had assumed it was going to be water, but it was most definitely not as it burned down my throat. I cleared my throat with a grimace. "Wow. It's actually alcohol."

Edward chuckled. "It's actually alcohol," he smiled before nodding toward the coaster. "Can I see it?"

I shrugged, sliding the coaster across the table toward him. The sinister smirk on his face as he read the question did nothing to hide the nature of the question. As soon as I had the coaster back I tore off the little piece of paper and, with nowhere else to put it, stuffed it in my own cleavage.

Edward's booming laughter was infections, bringing a smile to my own face.

"I don't want anyone to see it!" I argued through my own laughter.

Edward shook his head, reading his own question. He took a minute to think of his answer before reluctantly saying, "About a week."

I could have sworn there was the slightest blush on his cheeks. "Can I see it?"

He shook his head, downing his shot quickly. "God, no."

My mouth dropped open. "I showed you mine."

"You didn't have to," he argued, quickly tearing his own question off of the coaster and stuffing it into his pocket.

I shook my head, grabbing for my next question.

What are the terms of your prenup?

I scoffed and with a shrug decided that it was a question I could say without too many repercussions. "What are the terms of our prenup," I read. "We don't have one." Even though I read the question I still downed the shot. Edward looked at me with a smirk. "Been a weird day," I shrugged.

Edward laughed, reading his second question with a grin. He eyed me up and down, a mischievous glint in his eyes I knew meant trouble. He leaned over the table, seriousness clouding his expression. "You… have the most phenomenal ass I've ever seen."

I huffed out a laugh that quickly turned into a full fit of hysterics. That was… the last thing I ever expected to come out of his mouth. I was too shocked to even be embarrassed by it. "Thank you, I think," I gasped, not sure how else to respond.

Edward downed his shot, sliding the coaster over to me so I could read the question. "Oh, thank you."

Tits or ass?

Shaking my head at his question, I stuffed it alongside my other question in my dress and reached for my last coaster.

What is the worst part about being Edward's publicist?

Pressing my lips together, I answered, "Reading, on a nearly daily basis, how desperately some women are to sleep with you."

Edward's head cocked to the side, eyes widening. "What?"

I flipped the coaster over with a chuckle. "What is the worst part about being Edward's publicist," I read. "I maintain your public image, and in doing so I check up on what people say about you online. And there are… a lot of women, of just about every legal age group, that want to have sex with you. And I don't really enjoy reading about it." Because I was two shots in, my lips decided to keep moving. "I understand it. Obviously. Because I also want—"

My scrap of a filter caught me before I finished my sentence. My husband, however, finished for me with a cocky smirk. "Because you also want to have sex with me?"

"Well," I shrugged. "Yeah. It's what got us into this whole mess in the first place isn't it?" I shrugged, taking the shot quickly so I could blame the burning blush on my cheeks on the alcohol.

"Oh, my God," I sighed, shaking my head. I wasn't quite sure how I ended up talking about wanting to have sex with him, but the alcohol was doing a good job at dulling the mortification I should have been feeling. It was also doing an excellent job at letting the crowd and cameras disappear.

I smiled over at Edward as he read his last question. My muddled brain didn't comprehend his answer even as he held my full attention. I watched the way he smiled over at me; noted the way his eyes were bright with laughter, his own face slightly flushed from the alcohol, too.

For just a moment we were back in Santorini. I was leaning over the edge of our small private pool with Edward right behind me, arms wrapped around me tight as we watched the sunset.

It was a moment I would remember for the rest of my life, because it was the moment I let everything go. Really and truly let go of all of the anger and frustration and sadness and fear that had held me back for so long. The moment I realized I had more good things in my life than bad, more things to look forward to than to dread.

It was the moment that made me decide to drop the charges against Renee. While it might have been nice to see her get what she deserved, it would have been months more of her dragging me down with her. I had lost enough of my life to her, and I wasn't going to let her waste my time anymore. Not when I had everything I had ever wanted waiting for me.

…Closure…

A/N: Well… this is the last chapter. I honestly didn't intend it to be, but once I wrote it I just knew that it was it, you know? There will be an epilogue and because I get so overly attached to my characters I do have what I think will be a shortish part four bouncing around in my head. I'm going to start working on that the moment the epilogue is done!

Thank you guys so much for your continued love on this story. These two are so important to me and I can't thank you enough for loving them.

The game they play is inspired by Pour it Out from… The Tonight Show.