"Bells?" Charlie called from the sofa, hearing the door open as Edward and I entered the house. "How was your first day of finals?"

I sighed as I shrugged off my jacket and hung it up on the coat rack. "It was fine I guess. I had Calculus and gym today."

"Gym?" Charlie smiled a little and it looked like he was fighting back a laugh. My lack of athletic ability wasn't exactly a secret. "Do you think you passed?"

I saw that Edward and Charlie caught one another's eye, both amused. I scowled at them both. "I honestly have no idea."

I started to walk towards the kitchen when I noticed Edward wasn't following me. He was still looking at my dad. "Charlie," he began, "I'd like to ask your permission for something."

Charlie's eyebrows rose a little and I felt my mouth open, unsure where this conversation was going but instantly feeling suspicious.

"I'd like to take Bella to Seattle on Friday evening, after school. Do I have permission to take her out to dinner to celebrate us being done with finals?" Edward stared at him with a smoldering intensity.

Charlie swallowed. "And what time will you bring her home?"

"I have a reservation at the Fairmont Hotel, so in the morning," Edward said conversationally.

I watched my dad shift uncomfortably at the idea his daughter would be staying overnight in a hotel, alone with her boyfriend. But he surprised me when he nodded. "Just make sure she's safe. Seattle is a big city."

"I will protect her." Edward's voice had a seriousness in it that couldn't be denied. He followed me into the kitchen.

I shot him a look as we took our seats at the breakfast bar. "Where did that come from?"

He shrugged and flashed me a small smile. "You'd mentioned you had more freedom, and I wanted to test it."

I gave him a side eye, letting him know I didn't fully believe this, and we continued on with our evening.

I rested in my bed that evening, in the gap between when Edward left and when he returned through my window. I was slowly processing the anger that flared through me at Edward submitting acceptances to Dartmouth, realizing that he did have good intentions but it called attention to differences between us that I wasn't comfortable with. I also replayed the conversation in the car, about Alice's vision of Victoria, who was no doubt lurking in the shadows closer to my bedroom window than I cared to imagine. I also didn't understand where Edward's decision to go to Seattle suddenly had come from, especially since we hadn't mentioned it at all.

But I'd be lying to myself if I didn't feel excited about the opportunity to have this time alone with Edward.

The week at school dragged on. Every one of the seniors was visibly checked out as our impending freedom was just right around the corner. We knew that the next week and a half didn't matter for our grades at all, and that as long as none of us made massive mistakes on our final exams, graduation would come and high school would be nothing but a memory.

I wasn't concerned about my remaining finals. I was more preoccupied thinking about traveling to Seattle with Edward on Friday. He'd mentioned to me that the plan really was dinner at Aqua, a nice waterside restaurant, and that we had a room at a historic hotel. It felt odd, having Edward plan something like this. I wrote it off as experiencing too much cabin fever after being grounded for several weeks and going nowhere but school, home, and the occasional shift at Newton's Olympic Outfitters.

I did spend more time than usual grooming and preparing my outfit for Friday. I felt a fresh wave of butterflies thinking about some of the progress we had made recently in our physical relationship and that this seemed like an ideal opportunity to, as Edward put it, travel further down that road. I didn't exactly know what this meant for us, and I assumed it would be baby steps: Edward is overly cautious.

But I wanted to be prepared, come what may.

"I'll meet you at the house in an hour," Edward said, as we walked to the parking lot on Friday afternoon. Finals were officially over. The parking lot was split between groups of seniors giving each other high-fives, and more empty parking spots than normal as my classmates bailed out as soon as exams were done. "I'm just stopping by the house for a moment to grab my things."

"Alright," I said, jumping over a small puddle as I walked to my truck. I was riding on the high of being done, essentially, with high school. "I'm mostly know what I'm bringing, so I'll be ready to go."

"Are you excited?" His topaz eyes were bright.

I felt the butterflies return. "Yes." I didn't want to elaborate about what.

"Good," he said. He found my cheek and pressed his lips there softly for a moment. I leaned into him, savoring the icy contact and the closeness of him. His lovely scent battered my senses. "Drive safe, please."

"No one can hurt me in my truck," I mumbled. He smirked once again and for a moment I thought he might say something, but he held his tongue. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he said as he walked to his Volvo. "One hour." He held up one finger.

I nodded, and set off to Charlie's house. I was grateful for the little bit of time we had before our drive. I was suddenly nervous, and decided to get cleaned up a little more than usual. Charlie was home—no doubt wanting to check on Edward's plan—and greeted me as I kicked off my shoes and dashed up the stairs.

"Hey, do you want to talk about your week? You are basically done with high school now, right?" Charlie said, just as I was halfway up the stairs.

"Yeah, dad. It was great. I'm glad it's done."

He placed a hand on the stair rail. "You look a little excited."

I couldn't hide my wide smile. "I am. Edward has a fun evening planned. Thanks again for letting me go out."

Charlie inhaled and he also looked nervous. "Have fun, and be safe." He said it in a way that made it obvious what he was talking about. "And, you aren't grounded any more. It's too complicated trying to keep track of what you're doing."

I laughed. "Thanks, dad. I'm going to go finish getting ready."

He nodded and I shot up the stairs, feeling more butterflies throughout almost my entire body. I was free, more than I had been in weeks. Since it was just one night, I decided to use my book bag to hold my clothes since I didn't have a small suitcase. I dumped its contents on the floor and didn't bother to put anything away, just shoved the pile of notebooks I hopefully didn't need anymore under the rocking chair in the corner. I popped off my sweater and decided to replace it with the blue blouse I knew Edward liked. I sprinted to the bathroom and grabbed my toothbrush and did something I almost never did: I put on a swipe of mascara.

I caught my eyes in the mirror and agreed with my dad that my eyes looked brighter than normal. I couldn't tell if it was the rare occasion of putting on even a little makeup, the overwhelming sense of newly found freedom, or just true eagerness about what might lie ahead this evening.

My phone flashed—Edward: 5 min away

I grabbed my freshly packed bag and hurried downstairs. I had a small glass of water and slipped on a pair of flats and my jacket.

"Is that his car?" Charlie asked, looking out the window.

I joined him and peered through the curtain under his arm. At first I noticed it was just another silver car in the driveway, but it looked different, sleeker somehow. Edward was stepping out into the light drizzle that clung to the air.

"Maybe?" I said. "I haven't seen it before but I know he likes cars."

Charlie huffed. "That is not a car for a teenager."

I ran to the door and saw Edward leaning against the frame. He'd also changed, and had on a blue dress shirt and a gray blazer, dressed down a little with jeans and dress shoes. He looked incredible and I immediately felt underdressed.

"Edward, where did you get that car?" Charlie asked suspiciously.

"Oh? The Vanquish? Graduation gift from Carlisle." He paused. I sensed he was lying. "I know, it's over the top but I thought it would be fun for tonight."

"Fun?" Charlie looked stressed. "I'm a cop. Do not drive that thing the way it's built or I will absolutely give you a ticket."

Edward looked seriously at Charlie. "I would never do anything risky with Bella, sir." He turned to me, running a hand through his bronze hair. "Ready? I'd like to get on the road so we arrive on time."

"Aqua, right?" Charlie said, an eyebrow raised. The nervous expression from earlier was intensifying.

"Yes, sir. And afterwards I'm planning on going to Elliott Bay Book Company with her, and that's all for the evening. We'll be back by noon tomorrow." The bookstore was news to me.

"I'm ready," I chimed in, and picked up my bag, eager to get out of the house and avoid more of Charlie's questions. He took my hand and we started out towards the door.

"I love ya, Bells. Be safe and call me if you need me," Charlie said, an expression on his face I couldn't quite place.

"Love you too, dad," I said, awkwardly. "Okay! Let's hit the road, Jack." Edward was beaming at me as he led me to the car, the cool air wrapping around me. I wondered when summer would eventually come. He opened the passenger door for me and I got inside, noting that the interior of the car was smaller than I expected. I placed my backpack on the smallest backseats I'd ever seen. But aside from that, it looked mostly like any other car I'd been in. "So, is this a special car or something?"

Edward laughed as he got inside. "Yes, something like that. Put on your seatbelt. You are going to need it."

"Oh?" Worry immediately washed through me. "I thought you just told Charlie you wouldn't do anything risky?"

Edward put the key in the engine, turned it, and pressed a large red button on the dash. The engine flared to life, significantly louder than the Volvo. He backed out of the driveway and it was smooth, almost like the outside world didn't exist. "I'm not going to do anything risky. You are forgetting I'm an excellent driver."

I swallowed. "My nerves can't handle this." We started to exit Forks, with his driving being mostly normal, if not a little faster than the speed limit. Something told me that was about to change as we moved further from the main street. "How long of a drive do we have?"

"Human speed? Four hours. But I intend to make it there in two." He flashed me a wicked grin, his lips curled over perfect teeth. "It's a good thing your father didn't ask what time the reservation was."

He turned onto the 101 heading south, and glanced at me. The road ahead was completely open, with no cars. The benefit of living in the middle of nowhere. His hands were on paddle shifters behind the steering wheel. "Ready?"

"No, absolutely not." But I was smiling, and he caught my eye just as I felt the car accelerate. And it accelerated. I could hear its purr around me, and we were flying. He was beaming while I grabbed the front of my seat, trying to make sense of the foliage and cement blurring past me. I spoke over the musical hum of the engine. "I didn't understand we'd be taking a rocket to Seattle."

His laughter filled the car. I couldn't help but pick up on his excitement, even though I didn't dare look at the speedometer. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Immensely," he grinned. "Let's just say my spirits have been higher since our conversation last weekend."

My eyebrows raised. "Which conversation?"

"Where you somewhat agreed to marry me if I were to ask you."

I felt my heart beat rapidly in my chest, and it had nothing to do with his driving that made it seem more like we were in a fighter jet, not a car. "Well good, I'm glad."

He glanced at me from the side. I interrupted him before he spoke. "If you are going to drive like this, your eyes need to be on the road every moment. Not all of us are immortal."

"Yes, ma'am." He looked back ahead at the road, just a blur of gray and green. He was grinning still. "What conversation were you referring to?"

I swallowed. "Our sex conversation."

"Oh!" He exclaimed and he laughed again. "Progress. I like it."

The Aston Martin grew on me as we drove. Mainly because of how absurdly happy it made Edward to drive it—he seemed like a different person, so much lighter than before. I could tell he was excited about our evening. He drove at a speed I couldn't bear to look at for most of the journey, slowing down only a little when we reached a particularly beautiful stretch of highway along the coast. His eyes could appreciate it going at Vanquish speeds, but mine could not. Tall pines framed the distant, gray ocean, with its white crests pummeling against the cliffside. Our pace slowed just enough for me to roll the window down for a moment to enjoy the misty sea air. The car sounded even more powerful with the window down.

We arrived in Seattle just as he'd planned, the journey taking a little less than two hours. The city ahead was undeniably beautiful and had a unique charm to it. The Space Needle was only just visible from the highway, but the tall skyscrapers and the waterfront were impressive. Edward slowed down as we approached downtown, going normal speeds again as we passed through the industrial district.

"I'm planning on heading straight to the restaurant, if that's okay."

"Why are we going to a restaurant again?" I asked, curious. "You don't eat, remember?"

He laughed. "I'm very aware of that, however, you do. If we expect your transformation to come soon, I'd like you to have at least a few nice meals before then."

I followed his logic but was surprised he was thinking this far ahead. "Do we have a timeline, then?"

He glanced at me as we turned onto a viaduct that divided the skyscrapers from the waterfront. I was immediately stunned by the view. Even though it was cloudy, the Olympic Mountains were impossibly close, framed by calm waters and little islands. "I suppose we don't, but I am happy to discuss that tonight, if you wish." He paused. "I'd like to discuss many things with you."

"Sure," I said, feeling slightly nervous. "What things?"

"You'd challenged me last week to share my thoughts on marriage, so I thought we could start with that." I bit my lip, nervous. While I had agreed, I didn't know what else I could possibly add to this conversation. "And I'd like to understand more around your reaction to the Dartmouth application, and have a more serious conversation about sex."

I felt my stomach flip. "Do we really need to discuss that?"

"Bella," he said, as he turned off the viaduct and onto the waterfront street. "I think having an adult conversation about it is necessary. We are not exactly normal teenagers fumbling around in the back of a car."

I laughed a little. I liked that image a little more than I cared to share with him. We entered a parking garage and he refused valet services, saying he preferred to park his own car. He slipped the disappointed valet driver a bill before he parked.

"Okay, hungry?" He asked, quickly walking around to open my door.

"Starving," I said, grinning at him. We walked inside and I was floored by the beauty of the restaurant. The entire south wall was glass, and it appeared we were on top of the water. Modern lights hung from the ceiling, and a grand piano was in the corner. It caught my eye as we entered. "You're not planning some performance tonight, are you?" I asked, gesturing to the beautiful instrument.

He smiled at me. "No, love. It may be hard to believe this, but I generally try to avoid unnecessary attention as well."

"The Vanquish really reinforces that idea," I said sarcastically.

I noticed that a petite brunette dressed in black was now standing before us. "Welcome to Aqua by El Gaucho!" Her voice was sharp and high-pitched. Her eyes lingered longer than necessary on Edward. "Do you have a reservation?"

"Yes, for two at 7:30. It's under Cullen."

The hostess looked through a large black book before looking back up at the pair of us. "Great, it's nice to meet you, Edward. This way, please." She held out her hand to gesture for us to follow her. She walked us back to the glass wall and gestured for us to sit at an intimate table by the window with an incredible sea view. "How does this work?"

"Perfect," Edward said. He glanced around as we took our seats. The closest patron to our table was an elderly looking man who had an eye injury a few tables away. The majority of the restaurant was only half full, mostly with young couples who didn't seem all that different from us. I was pleased that several other diners were also in denim, and I quietly blessed the Pacific Northwest for its constant casual vibe.

The hostess took our jackets and left us alone. Edward turned to look at me, his hands on the white table cloth. "Select what you'd like and then we'll begin our conversation." I perused through the paper menu and selected the first thing that I saw, a pasta with seared scallops.

"What would you like to start with?" I said, after the waitress dropped off water and took my order. I took a sip—it was sparkling, and I found it instantly refreshing. Edward, of course, ordered nothing.

"Well, I'm curious about Dartmouth. You were very upset by what I did, and indicated this conversation wasn't over." His voice was soft, honeyed even. "I'd like to understand."

I took a deep breath. "Are you sure you want to have these serious conversations tonight?"

"Nothing is more important to me than listening to you right now." He gazed at me, and I was surprised by the intensity of his stare.

"Only if you also open up," I said. "Sometimes you ask me so many questions and I hear none of your thoughts."

"Fair," he said, taking my hand across the table. "I'll be an open book with you this evening, and from this moment going forward."

The gravity of his tone made me nervous again. I broke his gaze and glanced outside, taking in the peaceful sea in the overcast evening. I sighed. "I was upset because it didn't occur to you to talk to me about it first. It is a major decision, and those need to be made jointly."

"Yes. I see that now." He hung his head slightly. "Go on, I know there is more than that."

My gaze met his again. "It makes me uncomfortable when you give me gifts. I understood from that gesture you intended to pay for my education."

"I did, and still do. Why does it make you uncomfortable?"

"Because it upsets the power balance between us." I was blunt now, ready to be completely open with him. "There is nothing I can give you, and every grandiose gesture highlights that difference even more."

His thumb was making small circles on my hand, and I found the cooling motion pacifying. "I understand why that might upset you, and I'm sorry you interpreted my gesture that way." He paused. "You can rest assured there is no difference in power between us. I mentioned the other night that you have the intention of giving your life to me. Every material gesture in the world pales in comparison to your companionship."

I smiled slightly. "It still makes me uncomfortable."

He thought carefully for a moment. "When do you feel loved, by me?"

My eyebrows knitted together. "I don't understand your question."

"When we're together, what do I do that makes you feel loved?"

I thought about his question, never having really considered it before. I took a sip of water and noticed that he was staring at me, the intensity still burning bright in his eyes. If I hadn't known better, I thought he might be trying to read my mind. I looked away before my thoughts were scrambled by his dazzling power.

"Um," I began awkwardly, "It's hard to narrow that down. I feel loved right now, I guess." This wasn't off to a very eloquent start. "You'd mentioned that you brought me to dinner tonight as a way to give me another human experience before my transformation. Part of me thinks this is a sales pitch to get me to stay human longer—" He opened his mouth to interject but I raised my hand a little. "—But regardless, hearing that you respect my decision to be like you makes me feel loved."

"Noted," he said. "Keep going. I want to hear every thought you're having."

"Some of my thoughts are private," I retorted. "Thankfully so."

"I wish they weren't."

"Oh, I'm aware of that." I smiled at him. My voice became quiet. "I also… feel like I value your touch more than maybe you value mine." I felt heat flare throughout me at this admission.

His eyes were burning even brighter now. "I have to apologize for making you believe that." His voice dropped and it was barely audible to me, even just the short distance between us. "While I can't know with certainty what this might feel like on your side, trust me when I say that I also deeply enjoy this."

"You always have such control though. It's frustrating. It's you who always stops." I almost forgot we were in a restaurant, and it felt odd to have this conversation here.

"It's because I have to." His expression turned sour for a second and then flashed into something entirely different. "One day I will not stop."

I swallowed and felt the warmth course through me once again.

"Tell me," he whispered. "How do you like to be touched?"

"Are we going to have this conversation here?" I took another sip of sparkling water to cool off.

"No one's listening," he said, tapping his finger on his head. "I'm genuinely curious. I'll reciprocate the question if you answer honestly."

"I don't know if I feel comfortable talking about this. I'd almost rather show you."

He chuckled as he held my gaze with intensity. "Of course you would." His thumb was still making circles on my hand. "Can I share something?" His voice took on a more serious tone.

"Isn't that so far the theme of our conversation? Oversharing?"

He smiled but ignored my comment. "Bella, I think I've made it clear that I would like to try and be more intimate with you. But I don't feel comfortable doing so while we're not able to talk about it. We need to be extremely open about what we like, and don't like, because while emotionally there is no power difference between us, there is physically. I have to trust you to speak your mind plainly and to tell me exactly what you want. I have to know when to stop most importantly."

I sighed, unable to find fault in his logic. He was correct that we maybe had more hurdles here than other couples. I felt challenged by him, and found resolve to be braver, speaking my mind more than normal. "Fine. I like it when you hold my hand and hold me." My voice dropped so low that another human sitting across from me wouldn't be able to detect what I was saying, but I knew he would. "I like it when you are in my bed at night. I like it when I get to touch you, which so far has been restricted to just your upper body." He laughed and it was beautiful. "I especially like it when you kiss me and it goes on for longer than I prepared for, and frankly, I like absolutely anything you've ever done with your tongue."

I felt extremely bold saying these things to him, especially in a public place. The look on his face was curious, and I could tell his eyes had gotten perceptively darker as I was talking. It caused my mind to skip around, and all I wanted in that moment was to go and do all the things I'd just described.

He said nothing, stunned.

"I believe you offered reciprocity if I answered honestly." I took another sip of water, holding eye contact with him. "And then it's my turn for questions."

"You are a very dangerous creature," he said, his voice strained. "Would you like me to show you later?"

"Yes, but I also want you to answer now. You made me. It's only fair."

He smirked. "Fine," he started, mirroring me. "There's nothing in this world I love more than kissing you. I crave it when I see that you've lost the ability to think, although I do worry about your safety and whether you are getting oxygen." He chuckled softly. "I love your hands on me; it feels like fire. I am insecure about how uncomfortable I must feel to you and that's my only hesitation aside from the obvious fact that I might accidentally crush you."

I was glad he was bringing this up. "I like how you feel. I love it."

He smiled at me sheepishly and his palm touched my cheek, the coolness of it soothing the heat of my blush. "Noted," he said again. "Now, what are your questions?"

The waitress picked a terrible time to deliver my plate of pasta, which was set down before me. It smelled of sage and pumpkin and had a detailed, precise presentation.

"Why marriage?" I tried to keep my tone conversational as I cut off a piece of scallop. It was delicious — so much so that I almost became distracted from our conversation. Almost. "Know I've already agreed to it…in theory. I'm just surprised you've insisted on this so much. I want to understand why that is."

A conflicted look crossed his features. "It's a fair question, I suppose. I've never found anyone I've wanted to spend my…existence with. Until you." He paused and looked off in the distance, his eyes striking. "I don't have many memories of my human life, but I remember my mother and father a little, and they had a wonderful marriage. We had a brick house in Chicago, and I remember I would practice piano for my mother while I waited for my father to come home. He was away a lot, working. But I recall their excitement when they were reunited at the end of each day. My mother would always have this look in her eye, it was so interesting to me even as a child. It was a different time back then, and affection was expressed differently. My parents always displayed how much they cared for one another. Their partnership was beautiful. Even as a child I recognized that."

I was shocked that he was talking about his human life. I sat in silence and encouraged him to go on.

"I wasn't interested in relationships at the time I changed. I've shared before that I was interested in joining the military, and I suppose I found the allure of adventure more promising than the odds of finding someone I would share that connection with. Perhaps my standards have been unrealistically high for the institution from the beginning."

His eyes lifted to mine, magnetic.

"And, to consider Carlisle and Esme, and their love! Waiting so long to find his partner and the intensity of their love I experience between their thoughts. I try not to spy, truly, but I can't help it. I can see the depths of their feelings—and Alice and Jasper, and Rosalie and Emmett—and for much of my life, I figured I would never have that connection. I have, with you. From the first day we met, you became an immediate fixture in my life. When you said my name in your sleep and I heard it, I understood I have found the only person I would ever want to spend my life with. For me, marriage is symbolic of that depth, that connection I saw between my parents. It's a way to pledge myself to you in one of the deepest ways I know possible."

Now I sat stunned, in silence.

"That's why I want to marry you."

I sat still, gazing at him. "Why didn't you share that before?"

"I don't know," he laughed. "Maybe because I thought I would scare you?"

I looked away, back out over the water. I bit my lip as I felt a sense of awe. "I am a little scared. Because now I know we're going to get married."

He beamed and kissed my hand. He gave a shuddering breath. "I love you so fucking much."

"Edward Cullen! Did you just swear?"

"I did. It has been known to happen in times of stress or extreme provocation. This was the latter. I am overwhelmed by my love for you."

I looked down at my dish, which was starting to get cold. I felt like crying, but instead tried to take a bite of pasta.

"I've been distracting you from your dinner," he said thoughtfully. "Please eat. I enjoy watching you."

"You enjoy watching me eat?" I asked, as I took a bite of cooling pasta.

He surprised me by biting on his lip a little. "It's very evocative for me."

I took another bite, trying not to feel self-conscious. "Oh? How so?"

He laughed again. I don't think I'd ever heard him laugh so much in one evening, and it reminded me of our one perfect day in the meadow. "No, I'm not describing that. It's ungentlemanly."

I dropped my fork.

He grinned a wicked smile at me.

I picked up another bite of scallop and continued, trying to change the topic and regain my sanity. "So, when did this realization about marriage happen for you?"

"Hmm?" He said absentmindedly, watching me place my bite in my mouth. I turned red. "Oh, that happened in Italy."

"Italy?" I said, shocked. "This spring?"

He gestured to my plate. "I'll talk, you enjoy your dinner."

I bit into a noodle.

"Last fall, you'd asked me what I was thinking about on the night of your birthday. It was just after Jasper had attacked you, and I responded that I was thinking about right and wrong. I was intensely conflicted. I understood from the beginning that every moment with you was precious, that you are the sun passing before my sky and that my life had taken on new meaning with you. I was lost in thought about my own selfish desires, and how my presence was a shadow on your life. A blemish. You interrupted my thoughts by asking —or perhaps demanding is a better word— that I kiss you. And I did. And I felt something different."

He inhaled and caught my gaze for a moment.

"That was the first moment I wanted to marry you. I wanted to have you as my wife. I wanted to feel you, and to have you feel me, too. I had never experienced that before, and I hated myself for being so delusional in believing I could have you in that way, just after my own family had almost killed you. I realized how my desires were so selfish it was comical."

He looked at me, his eyes sad.

"So I left. I wanted you to heal and be whole and safe. I understood that nothing would ever change for me, but I would take comfort knowing your heart was beating, somewhere out there in the world. I thought of you every day. I shared that with you. I didn't share that I began to dream about you as my wife." He inhaled, and the breath he released was unsteady. "In my delirious state of barely existing, I had visions of us, married. I dreamt about if we were human together, my ultimate wish, how I would love you and grow old with you." He trailed off, and I wondered what he was remembering.

"But then Rosalie called me. She said you had killed yourself."

He released a tearless sob, and my heart lurched.

"The world turned black. You had been the light in my life, and realizing that was gone ended everything for me. I thought of you as my partner, my mate. To think of my endless existence without you was too painful, and so I made the decision to join you, with maybe the hope that in an afterlife we would be together.

"I'd thought I'd died when we were in Italy. I'd gone there to die, and so it made sense to me that to feel you, warm and human, with your beating heart, I'd certainly been killed. I thought of you as my wife, my mate, as I held you. No longer did I even notice the burning pain of thirst with you." He paused, his golden eyes ablaze. "Well, I noticed, but I didn't care anymore. There was no allure there, with any risk of your harm. When by some miracle I was alive and you were there, in reality, and you forgave me and wished me to return by your side, despite all the pain I caused, I knew then I wanted to ask you to marry me."

I'd forgotten about my dinner.

"I could see that I was returning to a complicated situation I'd created. I could tell that Jacob had become an important figure in your life. I could tell by the way you looked at him that you loved him, too. It broke me. Part of me wanted you to choose him, knowing he could be human, or at least more human, than I could. That he could give you children if you so wanted. That most likely, he wouldn't kill you.

"But you chose me. And I couldn't contain it any longer. I passed it off casually, but there was nothing casual about my initial ask for your hand in marriage." His eyes had not looked away from me once and continued to burn into me. "It did hurt, you know, when you said I was joking. I was not."

"If this is your official proposal, it's a good one," I said, tears forming in my eyes.

He leaned over and caught the tear that escaped from my eye. "No, it's not. I told you you'll know." He looked down at my dinner, which was half-eaten. "Did you finish your meal?"

"Yes, I'm not hungry any more," I said, my voice small. I didn't know how to respond to him.

"That's okay. Was it good?"

"It was incredible, but not as incredible as you."

He said nothing but smiled at me as he flagged down our waiter. He paid for my entree in cash and looked at me expectantly. "Are you ready for part two of our evening?"

"The hotel?" I asked suggestively.

He chuckled. "We're making a stop on the way. Let's get our jackets and I'll show you."