Thanks for all the trust, everyone! And also, thanks to my team and all of you for reading and reviewing.
Today is important.
I've decided every day in September is important - declared it, actually, and Edward, as usual, obliges me before asking the rationale behind it.
"I've always liked September," he shrugs his shoulders casually as we walk home from the meadow. "Tell me why we love it now?"
I love being a 'we' with him. I don't know when I'll ever stop.
"September is the month I gained my freedom," I reply, swinging his hand as we walk. "This time a year ago, I found the strength to leave. Haven't looked back since."
"That's my girl," he laughs. "Coming into town and bulldozing her way into my life. Almost literally."
"Hey, this thing got me across the whole country," I protest, pointing at my truck in my driveway as we make it closer to home.
Edward is quick to remind me of the results of said drive across the country. "And promptly died not even three days after you got here."
"Minor inconvenience," I dismiss him with a wave of my hand, and the laugh that slips out of my mouth when he pulls me to him is loud enough to make a flock of birds fly from their trees around us.
"Best inconvenience," he corrects me, his lips landing on my smiling mouth. We part eventually and head inside to my cabin where we've been slow cooking dinner all day.
"Well, if it's okay, I want to celebrate." I say. "Celebrate September and everything it has brought me."
"Of course it's okay to celebrate," Edward says, taking off his sneakers before coming to wrap his arms around my waist in the kitchen as I check on our food. "How does a weekend in Seattle sound?"
"Absolutely incredible," I breathe, turning around in his arms. "When can we leave?"
"Whenever you're ready," he chuckles.
"I'm ready," I say determinedly, turning back around to put the lid back on our dinner. "I can't hide forever."
"There's no rush," he reminds me. He pulls me back to him, bending down so our eyes meet. "Your pace is what I follow."
God, I love this man. How he's always there to remind me to be as patient with myself as he is with me.
"What if I like your pace more?" I say suggestively, my fingers sliding down his black t-shirt only to slip inside the loose basketball shorts he's wearing. I take him in my hand, loving the hiss he makes when my hand makes contact with how much he wants me.
"I'd tell you I want to set the pace for us right now," he groans against my neck, his fingers wrapping around the edges of my shirt as I feel him grow within my hands.
"What are you waiting for?" I ask, and in minutes, he has me on my back in my bed, my hands grasping at the blankets as he sets a pace that leaves me breathless and calling for more.
So he gives me more, our dinner long forgotten, as well as our phones in the other room inside the bag we took to the meadow, as we lose track of time wrapped within my sheets.
We're left speechless afterward, dozing and starving, as we realize the day has slipped out from under us.
It's the last thing that happens before everything changes.
Because when we hear a noise outside of my window, we know exactly what it is.
He's here.
I'll have a longer a/n tomorrow - you'll see why.
See you then!