It's funny how

The warning signs can feel like they're butterflies.

~ Halsey, Graveyard

BPOV

I was in the shower by three the next morning, and managed to be out by three-thirty after only minorly considering calling Edward and telling him I was sick. Or dying. After talking myself out of that I ended up standing in front of my closet, wrapped in a towel, and hating every single thing I had.

Every dress was too short or too bright. Blazer's suddenly felt tight and constricting, and every pair of pants I put on wrong. It all felt too young and flashy and I didn't want to walk in with just graduated written on my forehead. After forty-five minutes of trying on nearly every item of work clothing I had, I ended up in a black pencil skirt with just the slightest checkered pattern and a flowy, white long-sleeved blouse.

I wasn't going to go through the same debacle for shoes, so I found a simple pair of black heels and carried them quietly through the house. Rose never worked Monday's and it wasn't even five so I didn't want to wake her.

Edward had offered to pick me up before I left his house yesterday, and I agreed without a second thought. I heard the engine just as I was locking the door behind me. After quickly sliding my heels on I walked down the driveway just as Edward was pulling up. He got out of the car with a smile, eyes scanning the house behind me.

"You look beautiful," he told me, holding open the passenger side door.

I froze in my path. "What? I – is it the hair? I thought up made me look older. Or, you know, I had this other dress that might – "

"It was a compliment, Bella," he chuckled. "You look tired and haggard and like you've been working for ten years. How does that sound?"

I nodded to myself. "Better, thank you."

Before I could slide into the car, my back was pressed against the frame, Edward's lips at my ear. "If we had more time I could fuck the stress right out of you."

I pushed lightly at his chest with a huff, angrily flicking the tip of his nose with my thumb and middle finger.

Edward pulled back, shocked and frustratingly amused. "Ow."

"Now is not the time for that," I grumbled, getting into the car. Once Edward was beside me and driving illegally fast down the empty street I asked, "Why aren't you more stressed?"

"Because… I've done what I can. I'm the one that fucked up and let the show go downhill, then you had to come in and try to fix all of my problems. If I lose the show, I probably deserve to. But, if I keep it, I'll make sure I earn it back and do it justice."

I frowned to myself. "That's a very healthy way to look at it."

"How do you look at it?" he asked, eyes on the road.

"Like I've messed up every possible thing I could have. You could have had months more to get things under control, boost ratings, and have a show they didn't want to replace. Instead, I went and booked you on SNL and that spurred on Biers and…"

"It's not your fault, Bella. However it turns out," he added softly, a moment before his hand reached across the console and his fingers gently pried mine apart to squeeze my hand.

Hand holding was new. We were never really in a hand holding situation. It wasn't like we could walk to our cars together after work with our fingers intertwined or anything. And whenever we were alone we were doing much more than holding hands. I supposed if I got really technical he did hold my hands sometimes, when he was doing other things, too. But, that was different.

I squeezed his hand for the rest of the drive, trying not to think too much about just how comforting it was. It was still dark out when we pulled up to the large skyscraper, the sun just starting to lighten up the skyline. Edward's agent, Garrett, and lawyer, Laurent, were waiting inside the lobby.

"So, we're going in blind to possibly the most important meeting of your career?" Garrett asked as we all got in the elevator.

"We don't really have a choice, do we?" Edward asked.

A woman who looked about as stressed as I felt greeted us and ushered us into a conference room. The floor was full of dark blue carpets and frosted glass walls. The conference room had a large, probably eighteen-person table. Leon Woods sat near the center, four others surrounding him. Most probably lawyers, maybe a couple other higher ups at the network there, too.

"Edward, good to see you," Leon greeted, smiling and shaking Edward's hand across the table.

I repressed the urge to roll my eyes at his boisterous greeting, considering he had spent months looking to replace Edward in the first place. I sat down in a padded office chair beside Garrett, Edward was beside him and Laurent on the other side of Edward.

"Well," Leon started. "We might as well cut to the chase and tell you that the network has been looking for someone to replace you for quite some time."

"So I've heard," Edward answered smoothly.

"We thought so. Figured that was why you hired Ms. Swan."

"Your plan seems to have backfired on you a bit, Woods," Garrett argued.

"Oh, more than a bit," Leon cackled with a humorless chuckle. "Biers has become a big pain in my ass, trying to fight against his NDA, claiming he thought it was already a done deal and fine to announce whenever he chose."

"Not exactly someone you want hosting one of your networks most revered shows," I added quietly.

"No, Ms. Swan, it isn't. A Cullen, however… they're trustworthy, respected, a staple in the entertainment industry. Except when their show has been tanking for a solid two and a half years."

"Tanking is a little harsh," Garrett argued.

"He's right," Edward said with a shrug. "The show has been shit, but we're working to fix it."

"You need to do more than throw the camera a few smiles, Edward."

"He has been," I interjected, sitting up a little straighter in my seat. "The content has gotten an overhaul and he's working on bringing in some new writers for a better fit on the show. His episode of SNL was just the first part of a plan to let people see he's not who they've thought for the last few years… show them that he's worthy of an hour of their time every weeknight."

"And what are the other parts of your plan?" one of the other men asked.

"I can't give away all of our secrets," I countered.

Everyone got quiet after that. My eyes went from Leon to Edward and back again, knowing they were in the middle of some silent stand-off.

"I'll own up to my mistakes, and I can promise you I won't repeat them," Edward added sincerely. "I can get the show back to where it was, make it better than what it was before. I just need time."

Woods sighed heavily, pulling a stack of papers out of a file in front of him. "We'll give you two more years. If we don't see steady, constant improvement in ratings…"

"Understood," Edward answered, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

"I'm not giving you more money, either."

"I don't need any."

It wasn't the best deal. Two years wasn't a long time, not in late night television, but it was the time he needed to get back on track. Laurent and Garrett started going over the nitty gritty of the contract but all I could do was breathe one big sigh of relief.

-B-

I collapsed in the passenger seat of Edward's car a few hours later, my head falling back against the headrest. The sun was officially awake and I was officially dead on my feet. My weekend had been anything but relaxing and the last twenty-four hours had been hell. It all somehow worked out in the end, but not after a hell of a lot of work and worrying.

It wasn't a perfect fix. But, anyone that was aware of the situation would have assumed Edward was out a long time ago, no matter what. Every senior publicist at Newton & Cheney assumed that, so much so that they all refused to even take Edward on as a client. I was well aware that there was still a lot of work to be done for Edward, but it was also a big step in the right direction.

I smiled across the car at Edward as he picked up his phone, immediately calling his family and telling them the news. One by one, I heard as his parents and sibling and children all reacted with similar excitement to his news.

"Bella," Edward's voice was quiet and close.

I jerked awake, frowning at him leaning over the console of the parked car. "I fell asleep," I mumbled, rubbing the corners of my eyes.

"You did. You're cute when you sleep, though," he added with a shrug.

My eyes went to the window, expecting to see the parking lot of the theater. Instead, we were parked in my driveway. I supposed it would save us from any questions, me driving myself. And save Edward from having to drop me off later.

"I'll see you at the theater?" I asked, grabbing for my bag at my feet.

"No," Edward replied simply.

"No?"

"I'll be at work while you go inside and relax. Is your roommate here?"

Ignoring the first part of his answer, I scanned the driveway quickly and noticed Rose's car was gone. "No."

Edward nodded, getting out of the car and coming around to open my door. I frowned up at him as he stood over me.

"I can just drive myself to work."

He knelt beside the car making me feel like a petulant child. "You're exhausted. You sounded like you hadn't slept since the last time I saw you when I called yesterday, and I'm pretty sure you didn't sleep at all last night, either."

"Well, no, but – hey!" I protested when he grabbed my bag from my feet and started walking toward the front door. "You're always stealing my stuff," I grumbled, quickly following behind him.

"Mmm. One of my favorite things to do, really. Though taking your bag is not nearly as enjoyable as taking your virginity was," he mused, seemingly unfazed by his comment as he rifled through my bag. "How do you find anything in here?"

I rolled my eyes, attempting to ignore the increasing burn in my cheeks, and reached in the bag and quickly pulled out my keys from their designated pocket. The action earned me a shocked frown from Edward as I unlocked the front door.

Rose and I weren't all that messy, a trait I was now eternally grateful for with Edward walking in the house behind me. Our house wasn't much, but it was nice compared to what it could be in Los Angeles. Coming in the front door we were met with the living room, an open concept that flooded into the kitchen to our right. My bedroom was down the hall, past the kitchen, and Rose's was across the living room. It was tiny, but enough.

"Will you take it easy today?" Edward asked, looking at me with genuine concern in his eyes. "Get some sleep?"

I frowned over at him. I understood that Edward cared about me on a basic level. I worked for him, I was sleeping with him, and we were friends. Kind of. Maybe. But it was the times where he did things like take care of me after the incident with my family or tell me I needed to take it easy… those confused me.

Because I cared about him. Much more than I should. And those moments fueled the irrational part of my mind that told me maybe he could care about me too. I would always come to my senses a while later, but it was a disappointing realization to have to make time and time again.

At the moment, I was too tired to get into it, though. Because he was right; I was exhausted.

"Yes," I sighed, hopping up on one of the stools at the kitchen counter.

Edward came over to me, gently cupping my cheek. He smiled down at me, tracing a gentle finger over my nose. "Thank you. For everything. I wouldn't have these two years if it weren't for you."

"It wasn't me, Edward. You did all the hard work. I'm…" I sighed, dropping my eyes from his. "For what it's worth, I'm proud of you."

It wasn't worth much, I knew that, but I felt like it had to be said.

-B-

I walked into the theater with a smile on Wednesday. My day off on Monday had been surprisingly relaxing. I wasn't usually good with free time, but I was so exhausted I actually managed to relax. I slept and did laundry and cleaned my room. Maybe mundane things to most but I actually enjoyed it. By early afternoon a box of perfectly decorated chocolate covered strawberries was dropped off. A thank you note from Edward rested on top.

By that time, Rosalie had turned back up at home and I was grateful Edward had kept the note free of any of the innuendo's he seemed to love to throw at me.

Now, today was June twentieth which meant it was Edward's thirty-fifth birthday. I woke up in perhaps the best mood I had in months. Maybe it was still the high of pulling off what nearly everyone thought impossible a couple months ago, or maybe it was knowledge that Edward had already asked me to stay with him tonight.

Yes, I still had the job of coming up with a plan good enough to convince Edward to get out of his marriage, effectively ending any romantic relationship I had with him. But, I was looking past that for the day.

Because I loved birthdays. I couldn't do much to celebrate Edward's birthday without being blatantly obvious that we had a deeper relationship than the average client and publicist, but I could do a few things. Like pay the morning janitor to hang up the birthday sign over Edward's office door before Edward got in. And drop a few hints to the interns that an afternoon cake and celebration wouldn't be a horrible waste of time.

I smiled up at the sign hanging over Edward's doorway as I knocked and opened the door. My own coffee was sitting on the edge of his desk, but the Edward sitting behind the desk was most definitely the grumpy kind.

"Why so grumpy?" I asked, sliding the venti caramel Frappuccino across the desk toward him.

"I'm just… not a big fan of my birthday," he sighed, not even taking a sip of his drink.

I stared at him for a minute, wanting to ask why but knowing he probably didn't want to talk about it based on the look on his face. "I'll take the sign off your door," I muttered.

"That was you?" Edward asked, eyes surprised. It was better than the mopey eyes he had since I walked in.

"I paid the morning janitor to put it up before you got in," I admitted.

Edward was quiet, but his eyes didn't leave me. "You're big on birthdays?"

"Yeah," I told him with a smile, hoping my good mood might rub off on him. "Not until a few years ago, though. A birthday is all about you, and I never really had that before Rose. So… if you don't want to do anything special for your birthday, you don't have to. I can return everything I got you."

I couldn't return one, considering I had it monogramed. And I wouldn't bother returning the lingerie because I was sure I could figure out another time to wear it. He took my bait just as I wanted him to, though.

"You got me something?" he asked, brows raised and eyes brighter than a moment ago. He looked every bit the excited birthday boy.

"A few somethings," I nodded, pulling out the wrapped box from my bag. "There's this. And the cake I convinced the interns to get for you this afternoon. And then something for… later."

Excitement danced behind his eyes as they darted from me to the box.

"It's your birthday," I smiled, pushing it toward him. "You can open it if you want. Or I can return it."

"Well played, Bella," Edward sighed with a smile before carefully tearing into the dark blue wrapping paper.

"I know it's not the most… exciting gift. But it's hard to buy for a man with infinite resources."

It was a leather, monogramed portfolio. Every day for the last week and a half I watched him walk into the writer's room, where he spent most of his days now, with a simple pad of paper and a pen. I thought the portfolio might help him enjoy writing a little bit more than he already was.

"You've been writing more," I explained, suddenly feeling like an idiot. "And I thought…"

"I love it," Edward exclaimed, running his fingers over his golden initials. "Thank you."

I smiled brightly over at him. "You're welcome. Do you want me to take down the sign? And cancel the cake?"

He sat back in his chair, portfolio in hand. "If I do that do I forfeit the right to whatever you bought for later?"

"No," I chuckled. "You can pick and choose whatever you want."

"We can keep it all," he said, eyes deep and intense on me.

"You're not going to hurt my feelings, Edward. If you don't want – "

"I want," he interrupted quickly, his gaze making me blush. "I want everything."

"Okay," I nodded with a smile. I pressed my lips together, wondering if I could control myself with giving him a simple, birthday kiss.

"Happy birthday!" a chorus of his kids' voices made my decision for me. They barged in his office, a trail of balloons and streamers in their wake.

I truly tried to hide my smile, but I didn't do a great job of it.

-B-

I second guessed myself the entire time I was changing. I never should have told Edward about the gift for later, because I didn't hear the end of it for the rest of the day. Whenever we were alone he asked about it, and as soon as I got to his place tonight he decided dinner was overrated and wanted his gift immediately.

All of the buildup made the couple scraps of lace seem stupid now. It was a gorgeous set of lingerie and cost more than my old beat up pick-up truck I used to have in Forks, but what if it wasn't enough? It truly was just a few scraps of lace arranged to fit a human body. I could admit the bra was beautiful, lace feathering down my ribs and cupping my breasts perfectly. But was it enough for the drop-dead gorgeous man waiting for me in his bedroom who was used to being with actual supermodels?

I wrapped a short, silk robe around my shoulders and took a deep breath before walking out. Edward was seated on the leather couch in the corner of his bedroom, crystal glass of amber liquid resting in his hand. He was still in his suit from earlier, only his coat missing. It was a grey suit tonight. He hadn't heard me come out, his eyes still out the window beside him that looked over the lighted city.

"Hi," I whispered, suddenly feeling nervous and stupid.

Edward's head snapped in my direction. Even in the dim light I could see his eyes look me up and down. He tossed back the rest of his drink, putting the glass aside and flashing me a crooked smile. "Hi."

Biting my lip, I scurried over to him, feeling a little ridiculous standing in the middle of the room alone. As soon as I was in front of him, Edward's fingers tugged at the hem of my robe.

"You got this for me?" he asked, his voice gruff as his fingers went from the hem up to the loose knot around my waist.

"Yes," I whispered, holding my breath as he tugged the tie, opening the robe and pushing it off of my shoulders.

After a mumbled curse, his eyes nowhere near my face anymore, I watched as he scrubbed a hand over his chin. It was a good three minutes before his eyes met mine again.

"You are…" Edward mused, hands finally gripping my thighs and pulling me down to straddle his waist. "The most stunning thing I have ever seen."

I sighed, resisting the urge to roll my eyes and settling for a small shake of my head. Warm fingers gripped my chin firmly, forcing my eyes to meet Edward's.

"You are," he hissed firmly, his eyes looking confusingly conflicted. "Bella, you're…"

I gripped the hair at the base of his neck, tugging lightly in the way I knew usually distracted him. I didn't want confusion or conflict in his eyes, not tonight. Pressing my lips to his, I finally seemed to break him out of whatever was distracting him.

His hands were firm on my hips while mine quickly worked on discarding his button down from his shoulders. His skin was warm and soft and when it was underneath my fingertips nothing else mattered.

I rolled my hips against his, smiling into the kiss when I felt him underneath me. Without a word I slid off of his lap, onto my knees on the floor. I pressed my lips together, focusing on undoing his belt and slacks.

I had only done the whole blowjob thing once before in New York, but I had done a bit of research since then. Once I had all of his clothing out of the way I ran my hands up his thighs, finally getting the nerve to look up at him.

His eyes were dark, never leaving my face as I gripped the base of his cock. The whole thing still kind of fascinated me. That I was the reason he was this aroused left a pit of pride in my stomach.

I kissed up the length of him before returning the circuit with my tongue. When I took the tip of him in my mouth Edward grunted out a curse, running his hands roughly through his hair.

"Bella," he groaned, hands clutched into fists by his side.

I took him in my mouth slowly, using my hand for what couldn't fit in my mouth. I scooted closer to him, enjoying the way his breath caught in his throat when I took him just a little farther down my throat.

Edward once joked that we needed to work on my stamina, and I was now very aware of just how excellent his stamina was. He seemed to be enjoying himself if the grunts and curses were any indication. His hands would push my hair out of my face every few minutes, sometimes knotting up the hair at the back of my head and guiding me up and down his length. It was a surprisingly arousing movement.

My knees were aching and my jaw past the point of being sore, but the sounds coming out of the man were too good to consider stopping.

Fuck, baby.

Look so good, your lips around my cock.

Yes, just like that.

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, fingers tightening in my hair.

I moved faster over him, ignoring my instinct to cough every time he hit the back of my throat. My nails dug into his thighs and my eyes looked up to him.

"Fuck, I – you don't have to swallow, baby, I'm – "

I ignored his warnings and quickly swallowed around him. Sitting back on my heels, I ran my hands slowly along his thighs, enjoying the firm muscle underneath my hands. The sight of him… head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and breath coming out in pants was entirely too rewarding.

His eyes popped open and locked on mine immediately. "You look awfully proud of yourself."

"I am," I admitted, not able to control the smug smile on my face.

"Come here," he urged, holding his hands out for me to take. He situated me back in his lap, soft hands rubbing circles in my knees before he ran a finger across my lips.

Edward pulled me closer, his lips pressing against my neck. His hands slid up my thighs, leaving a firm squeeze on my ass before trailing up my waist and ended up tracing along the lace at my ribs.

"This," me mumbled against my neck. "Is the best birthday present I've ever gotten."

I snorted and shook my head, but got a sharp bite on my neck in retribution.

He cupped my breasts, his hands firm and tight. "Your tits are fantastic," he groaned, pulling the lace out of the way. His lips went straight to one breast, sucking my nipple in his mouth and immediately making me groan.

My hands dug into his hair, a deep moan escaping me when his other hand tugged roughly at my other nipple.

"Full, firm, natural," he mumbled to himself quietly. I missed half of what he said, because with each muttered muse he would squeeze or suck or bite and make my head go all fuzzy.

"Edward," I groaned, burying my face in his messy hair. My hips bucked against him involuntarily, meeting his already growing arousal again.

"It's my birthday," he countered, frustratingly casually as he dropped his hands from me completely. He sat back against the couch, eyes raking over my now-disheveled appearance. "Which means I get to do whatever I want, according to you."

I frowned at him.

He grabbed my ass, standing with no warning and making quick work through the space to toss me on the bed. He crawled over me, his hand splayed out along my stomach, traveling north and pressing firmly into my skin until he cupped the back of my neck, angling my face toward him.

"And what I want, Bella," he muttered, lips against my ear. "Is to taste every fucking inch of you until you're begging for me."

He crudely ran his tongue up my neck and along my jawline.

"I don't think… that will take a long time," I mumbled, digging my nails into his biceps as he leaned over me.

The last thing I remembered was groaning at the sound of tearing lace.

-B-

"You know," I mused, picking a piece of pepperoni off of my pizza and plopping it in my mouth. "I was a little offended at some of the music you put on my playlist."

I sat in Edward's bed, propped up against the headboard. Edward relaxed beside me, facing the opposite way on the bed so his head was at the bottom and feet at the top. I had pulled on his button down from earlier while he got the pizza, but Edward seemed content to have the thin sheet haphazardly thrown across his waist. The box of pizza sat between us, full of discarded crusts and napkins.

"What offended you?" he asked, frowning over at me.

"Well, the fact that you thought I had never heard of Bruce Springsteen was a little offensive."

Edward threw his head back with a laugh, tossing a half-eaten piece of pizza crust into the box. "I'm glad to know I was wrong on that front."

I picked at the half-eaten piece of pizza in my hand. There was a question I had been wanting to ask all day, but I didn't want to ruin his good mood. "Can I ask you a question, even if I know you don't want to answer it?"

Edward sighed, bright green eyes meeting mine. Thankfully, they hadn't yet lost the happy glow I was able to get out of him tonight. "Since I've been getting paid to do that to people for years, I suppose it's only fair I let you do the same."

I smiled over at him, hoping he wasn't using the joke as a defense mechanism. "Have you always hated celebrating your birthday?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes dimming but only a tad. He stretched out on his back, running his fingers through his hair a few times before answering. "No. I don't usually mind it, getting older. And I typically look forward to it. Ever since they learned to think about others, the kids always made a point of taking me out for lunch on my birthday, on them. I don't know how many birthday's I've spent slipping them a twenty at McDonald's so they felt like they did something for me," he laughed.

"Did they not do that this year?" I asked quietly. They had spent all day at the theater with Edward, and I could have sworn I saw them all leave around lunchtime.

"They did," Edward answered quickly. "And I didn't have to slip them the money and I got to eat something other than chicken nuggets. It's… I'm thirty-five. Closer to forty than thirty. And I'm just… pissed about it, I guess."

I stared at him for a minute, taking in the prettiest face I had ever seen and the sculpted chest that some men would kill for. His eyes were tinged with sadness, darting in my direction every few seconds before going back to an unassuming point on the ceiling.

Edward's age never crossed my mind all that much. Yeah, he made me a playlist that consisted mostly of songs that either came out when I was an infant or not even born yet. And some would argue that I would probably get along better with his children than I do him, but we never had awkward lulls in our time together.

"Thirty-five is hardly old, Edward," I told him softly. I got an incredulous look in response. "You've done a lot of things by thirty-five that most people don't have done by forty, but that doesn't make you old."

The incredulous look still stood, and I had to roll my eyes at it. "You raised two kids. You managed to go from an… iffy acting career to one that I kind of think you were made for. You have a beautiful house and a great relationship with your family," I sighed with a shake of my head. "You might be thirty-five, but you've already got a life most people wish they had by fifty."

Edward's frown started to disappear as I added one more thing to the list to lighten the mood. "Plus, you're sleeping with someone twelve years younger than you. Every man's dream, really."

He threw his head back with a laugh, the sound care-free and somehow instantly relaxing to me.

I love you.

The words floated through my head without any conscious permission from my brain and I froze. I had never said those words to anyone since I was old enough to understand what they meant. I certainly shouldn't be thinking them about Edward. This whole thing was supposed to get him out of my system. I was supposed to get tired of him and bored and less interested the more time I spent with him.

I blinked a few times quickly, hoping the sudden feeling rushing through my veins would go away. Instead, I watched as he leaned up on one arm, smirking over at me and the thought glided through my head again. This time accompanied by a fluttering of the butterflies that had been noticeably absent the last few weeks.

I love you.

The butterflies were gone. I hadn't felt them in weeks, maybe not since New York… Right? Edward said something, but I was too busy thinking over every possible moment they could have shown up.

And I realized they never left.

They were always there. All the time.

The more time I spent with him, the more used to them I got. And I only noticed them when they got exceptionally rowdy. Like they did tonight because I realized was in love with Edward Cullen.

I watched as he reached for the pizza box, eyes on me like he was waiting for something.

"Are you done?" he asked quietly, eyes now more confused than anything.

"Oh, um, yes," I mumbled, wiping the crumbs off my hands over the box as he took it away. Once he was out of the room I let my head fall in my hands.

Even as I tried to convince myself that I didn't love him; that I loved sex or the attention or anything other than him, a hundred reasons why those were all lies immediately canceled out every argument.

I loved him for the way he could carry a conversation with anyone easily, even someone like me who was usually a lost cause in that department. I loved him for how he listened to me and didn't immediately discredit everything out of my mouth. And how he put his family above everything else in his life, even himself. Loved his outlook on his meeting earlier this week, how he didn't obsess over every little detail like I did.

Loved the way he would smile at me. He had so many different ones; crooked and teethy and small or shy.

And I was pretty sure he had called me beautiful every day since that first night in New York. I wasn't even sure if my father had ever told me I was beautiful.

Yeah, part of what I loved about him was the sex. Because it was amazing and mind blowing and with him. And I loved how his eyes could give away everything about what he was feeling and the firm touch of his hands around my waist and the way his hair felt between my fingers but those were all bonuses.

Edward walked back in, smirking at me lying in his bed.

I love you.

I wanted to roll my eyes at myself. Because I was… so fucking screwed. In every possible way.

Edward got into bed beside me, completely oblivious to the sudden panic in my head. So oblivious he pulled me down beside him, arms wrapped firmly around me, and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

All things that just solidified that stupid voice in my head that kept saying it over and over again.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

"Bella?" Edward asked quietly, his voice slow with drowsiness.

I didn't trust myself to give him a real, verbal response. "Hmm?"

"Thanks for today," he said softly, almost like he was unsure of himself. "Especially tonight," he added with that hint of humor I had come to love.

Fuck.

"You had a good day?" I whispered.

"Yeah," he nodded against me, another kiss pressed to the top of my head.

I buried my head in his chest and squeezed my arms around him as tight as I could. Truth was there were probably three people in the world I would have gone through the trouble of doing anything for their birthday, so I should have realized this whole love thing sooner.

"Good," I sighed against him, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest.

Because I love you, I added silently in my head.

A/N: I'm not sure when the next update will be. I barely have the next chapter started and with everything going on it's been pretty hard to focus enough to write anything. That being said, I will try as hard as I can to keep things flowing.

Please stay safe, stay inside, stay as healthy as you can.