Chapter Ten

A lot of planning goes into our Valentine's Getaway. I want to make the plans, but I'm not really allowed to. Harry gives me a list of suitable destinations, and I have to choose. It's even more horrible because, under normal circumstances, I would never be able to afford any of these places. Bella doesn't say much, though she is a distraction enough. I try to convince myself to accept what is, and I just about manage it.

I go home the weekend before Bella and I jet off on our romantic weekend, while Bella heads off to some other State. She mentioned something about Maine, but I can't be sure. Her schedule changes often, which is mainly because the First family is spread out across the country on the campaign trail.

Basically, if people learn about our weekend away, they'll assume we're having sex, so we may as well have it. At least, that's what Bella says. I think she's wrapping this whole thing up in something crude because she's terrified of this step we're going to take. I'm a little afraid too but I'm trying not to overthink it. I think that's the only way we'll enjoy it.

My mom has all types of pointers for me, which is beyond embarrassing. Imagine Esme Masen trying to give you tips on how to woo your girlfriend - no, just no. Even Carlisle chips in, which has me cowering like a teenage boy who's just been caught masturbating. And I know what that feels like. I mean, what are they trying to do to me? Seriously? I'm well aware of my relative inexperience in this department, but I really don't need my family pointing it out to me.

Tori tells me that Carlisle has been coming around more often these days, and our mom has definitely been smiling that bit more because of it. If my mom is happy, then the rest of the household will just have to follow suit. It's kind of how it's always worked with us, and I shudder to think about what it's going to be like when she's gone. Because it's coming. If I didn't feel it so much; it'd be easy enough to see.

So I'm worried for us. All of us. Particularly Carlisle. I know I'm the one who practically pushed him into all of this, and I can't help but think about what's going to happen to him after. Because it's going to be here in no time at all.

What's going to happen to all of us then?

I hope Carlisle won't resent me for the pain he'll surely feel. But, even as I stand there and see the way that he looks at her, I know he'll find it all worth it. Esme Masen is always going to be worth it. She's getting worse though. She hides it, but I see. It's in her movements, and in the way she speaks. There's pain in her eyes.

Something that seems to bother her the most is that her hair won't grow back, and I know she hates it. She doesn't want to be buried without her hair. She won't be buried with a wig either.

Maybe she won't be buried at all.

I know we should probably talk about it, but I don't want to be the one to bring it up. I want to mention it to Peter - maybe he can handle the funeral arrangements. Or Charlotte. Carlisle.

Anyone else. Just, not me.

I've managed to catch Riley in a good week. The first week of recovery after a round of the new cocktail of chemo they're trying is always the worst, but I'm with him in his last. Next week, he'll go in again, and I'm secretly glad that I won't be here to witness it. It's too much. Seeing it, and not being able to do anything to help... I can't even bear to think about it.

For this one weekend, he seems like the happy-go-lucky kid he's supposed to be. And, if it weren't for his pale skin, bald head and chemo ports; you'd think he was perfectly healthy. He ropes me into watching The Amazing Spider-Man with him again, and I make a big show of dragging myself into the living room.

And then the little tyke ends up falling asleep ten minutes into the morning.

Peter and I spend a few hours going over the books on Saturday morning. Without my mom's treatments, we're actually doing fine. For a terrifying moment, I consider that she's doing this for that precise reason, but then I remember that she said that what she's doing is not like what my father did. I have no choice but to believe her. Esme Masen is not a liar.

I make sure to ask Tori about her life. I have to set time aside to spend with my little sister. As the baby of the family, I sometimes think she feels a little left out when it comes to the daily life decisions that we all seem to be making. It's intended, of course, because she shouldn't have to worry about any of this, but I don't want her to feel as if we don't see her. Because we do. I do, even if I'm not in the same State.

She talks to me about James. And then goes on and on about Seth Swan. Apparently, she couldn't wait to tell her friends about the phone call - though some didn't believe her. She doesn't care though because she got to talk to him, and nobody can take that away from her.

The visit feels so short. It's as if I just arrived, and now I have to go back again. Carlisle is the one to drop me off at the airport. He offers to take me for a reason, and so I agree. My mom gives us both curious looks as we leave, but we say nothing.

He finds parking rather easily, which is completely unheard of. There must be something about Carlisle Cullen then; something that he radiates that just makes the world bow before him.

He's silent as I get myself checked in, and then we head through security. I have about half an hour before I need to board so Carlisle suggests we get some coffee. I don't really like to eat or drink anything before I fly but I agree anyway.

I get a standard cup, and Carlisle gets something fancy. Fucking doctors.

I've always wondered what kind of doctor I'll end up being. It just seems like a long way to go. This year honestly feels as if it's gone on for decades. So much has happened.

"Edward?" Carlisle says, getting my attention.

I look at him, a little embarrassed. "You want to talk?"

"I wanted to ask you something, actually," he says, keeping his eyes on mine. "About your mother."

I swallow thickly.

"It's nothing bad," he assures me. "It's actually something rather good, if I'm being perfectly honest."

"What is it?"

"I'd like to take her somewhere," he says. "She's always expressed her desire to travel, and I'd like to take her somewhere, anywhere, if she'll let me."

I blink. "Are you asking my permission?"

He shakes his head. "Not permission, but I would like to know your thoughts on the idea," he explains. "Peter may be the oldest, but it's you who's the true head. You're the one holding this family together."

I scoff at the sound of that.

"It's true," Carlisle immediately counters. "You probably think it's your mother or even Riley, but we all know it's you. You are the glue. Believe it."

I don't believe him. If I'm so important to my family, why did they take so long to tell me about the extent of my mom's disease? A part of me still hasn't forgiven them, but I'm trying not to focus on it. I suspect I'll need a lot of therapy later in my life, so I'll save it for then.

"Is that something you think she'd like?" Carlisle asks.

"We both already know the answer to that," I say. "So what is it that you really want to ask me, Carlisle?"

He takes a deep breath. "Esme is worried about you," he says. "As am I."

"I'm fine," I say automatically.

"Are you?"

I don't answer.

"I don't meant to put you on the spot, Edward," he says softly. "Believe me, the last thing I want is for you to feel attacked. I just don't think that you're fully preparing yourself for what's to come. This year has been full of changes for your family, and in your personal life. All these changes are difficult for anyone, let alone a junior in college."

I blink once, and then I sigh. "Is she worried that I'm more my father's son than any of us know?" I finally ask.

Carlisle doesn't respond immediately. "This life isn't easy," he says eventually. "Somehow, we're all going to have to get through the next few months. I just, I don't want you to think that all of this is on you, okay?"

I nod my head. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"I get it."

"You do?"

"I do."

He looks confused, and I can't help my smile.

"Look, I'm handling myself," I say. "It's not easy, and I'm sure that I'm going to fall apart at some point, but that point isn't any time soon."

"After?"

I nod. "She needs me now. They all do."

"Edward, this isn't healthy."

"What's the alternative, Carlisle?" I argue. "There's no time to break down now. There sure as hell isn't time to shut down either. I have school, and I have everyone and the situation in Seattle. I have Bella, and I have my friends, and they all need me for something. I have to be strong, Carlisle."

He looks pained. "Edward."

I shake my head.

"What do you need?"

I don't know how to answer that question, because what I need is nearly impossible. There's no way that I can go back in time to when everyone was healthy, alive and happy. So, what I need or want doesn't matter. That's just the way it is.

"Edward?" he practically pleads.

I close my eyes for a moment, gathering my thoughts. "She can't see," I say, opening my eyes again. "She has to believe that we're going to be okay. I need her to be at peace when her time comes. She needs to be at peace with her decision, Carlisle."

"But you're not." It's not a question.

"And you can't tell her," I immediately say. "She can't know."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because what?"

I huff. "Because, Carlisle, in a few short months, we're all going to be fucking orphans!" I hiss. "They did that. Fucking Garrett Masen, and now Esme Masen. So, no, you can't fucking tell her, all right?"

He just stares at me.

I deflate quite dramatically, and look at my cup of coffee as if it holds all the secrets to the universe. "Don't you see? All of it; all this shit that I keep inside, has to stay inside. It can't come out, because I don't know what I'll do if it does." He's the first person I've almost showed what's inside, and he looks shocked. It's almost amusing.

Almost.

It's just that, if he's freaked out by this little bit, how is anyone else expected to handle all of it?

"Can we stop talking about this?" I ask.

He nods.

"So, is my mom actually healthy enough to travel?"

He nods again. "We'll make the necessary arrangements and, as long as she's with a doctor, it should be fine."

"Will it be for long?"

"Probably not," he says, shifting in his seat. "She won't want to be away from the family for too long."

"I think it's a good idea," I say. "She needs some time to herself, I think."

He nods. Fuck, he's doing a lot of nodding. I can just imagine his doctor brain running through everything he could possibly do for me right now. I can practically feel the worry radiating off of him.

I lift my coffee up to my lips and take a large gulp. It's bitter and lukewarm, but it's just what I need right now. I glance over Carlisle's shoulder at the screen listing the Departures. I wish they would announce that my flight is boarding now. I'd do anything to get up and away from this conversation right now.

"Where are you thinking of taking her?" I ask after a while.

"Paris," he says. "Or Rome. She's always mentioned a desire to visit the Vatican City."

I nod, because it's true. I remember my dad once promising to take her, but look how well that turned out. Somehow, I can just see Carlisle following through on his intentions. It's actually a bit odd for me. For so long, Peter and I have been the ones to make decisions and keep everything moving. And now here's Carlisle, who runs to the grocery store whenever my mum is feeling up to some ice cream.

It's odd, but not terrible.

I sometimes think about what it would be like if my dad were still alive. I mean, I don't for a second consider that Carlisle could ever be like a father - I mean, no. It's just that it's kind of nice to have the help. I don't know how to tell him that I appreciate everything he's doing without it getting too weird.

Even though he thinks he's failed her, and us... he's still here. And, really, to me, that's the most important part. I don't think they make greeting cards for that kind of thing, do they? I reckon, if this whole doctor thing doesn't work out; I'd consider writing greeting cards for a living. I think I'd be relatively not bad at it.

Carlisle and I sit in silence for a while, each of us sipping at our drinks. I can tell he wants to say something, but I'm not sure I can handle it right now. I think he senses that because he doesn't try to broach the topic of my mom again. We just wait until my flight is called, and then we're standing. He hugs me. There isn't even a hint of hesitation behind it - Carlisle is a hugger, apparently.

He tells me to look after myself, and then I'm on my way.

I board quickly. It pays to be a frequent flyer, and then I'm shuffling down the aisle behind an old woman with a massive handbag. She even bumps a few poor people on the head with it, and I try desperately not to laugh. I fail dismally.

Thankfully, I reach my row before she does, politely smile to the other passengers and then stow my own carry-ons. I slip into my seat and fish in my pocket for my phone. I glance about and, seeing that I still have a few minutes until the plane fills up: I make a quick call to Bella. I spoke to her this morning but, well, I kind of miss her. A lot. As pathetic as that sounds.

She answers on the second ring. "Hey, Brisket."

"Oh my God, how much time have you been spending with Jazz?"

She giggles. "Well, I've just landed, so I'm going to spend some time with Rose and Alice," she tells me. "We've really got to sort out this Jasper and Alice situation, Edward. Rose is going to end up killing someone, I'm telling you, and I won't be held responsible for who that might end up being."

I can't help my smile. "Do you have something in mind?"

"Um, well, Angela and I might have discussed it," she informs me. "I know Angie looks all innocent, but she's really quite diabolical."

"Oh boy," I laugh. "Have you been corrupting her?" I ask, and then backtrack, wanting to wind her up. "Oh wait, it's you who's the innocent one, right?"

"Me?" she asks. "Oh, I'm not innocent, Edward."

"Sure you aren't," I tease.

She huffs. "You think I'm innocent?"

I drop the volume of my voice. "I'm pretty sure that 'Innocent' is your middle name."

"Actually, it's Marie," she says, trying to sound unimpressed. "And, just for that, I'm going to show you just how innocent I am when I see you, Mr Cool."

I'm a little unnerved, but I push through it. There's something in her voice that makes my entire body tense. "God, that's awful," I say. "Makes me sound like a creeper."

"Like that old man who stands on the corner of the street and tells all the little kids to call him 'Mr Cool.'"

I laugh because I absolutely love her. "I heard a rumour that you're picking me up at the airport," I say. "Is that true?"

"I don't know; is it?"

"Are you going to make me take a cab?"

"Isn't Jasper picking you up?"

"I actually don't know," I admit. "I'll figure it out when I land. Am I seeing you tonight?"

"Of course," she says easily. "I have to show you just how innocent I am, remember?"

Again, my body tenses. What is happening right now? I mean, all she's doing is saying words to me. "Okay, so I'll be home at, nine, the latest," I say. "Maybe a little after if there's traffic."

"I'll come by at ten then," she said. "Give you some time to settle in."

"Maybe I'll just text you when I get to Fraternity Quad," I tell her. "I don't want any time to settle in; I just want to see you."

She's silent for a moment. "I miss you too, Edward."

"I love you."

Her reply is instant. "I love you too."

I'm probably smiling like an idiot, but I don't care. There's this girl who I love, and she loves me back. How can I possibly not smile? "I just had a talk with Carlisle," I tell her. "He wants to take my mom to Europe."

I hear her take an excited breath but, before she gives me her opinion, she asks the all-important question first. "Wait, how do you feel about that?"

"I think it's a great idea," I tell her.

"I do too," she says, sounding relieved. "Do you know where?"

Before I can reply, a shadow falls over me, and I'm forced to look up. There's an air hostess trying to tell me that I have to end my call, and I sigh heavily. I nod at the woman, before I speak into my phone. "Hey, Bella, I've got to go," I say; "we're about to take off."

"Okay," she says quickly. "Have a safe flight, and I'll see you later."

I open my mouth to say something else, but stop short. "Okay, the air hostess just gave me a dirty look," I whisper to Bella.

She giggles wonderfully, and my heart flutters. Before this call, I was feeling rather down, but just talking to her is enough of a pick-me-up. I might be leaving home, but I'm going to Bella. I'm going to see her in a few hours, and that makes leaving Seattle hurt a little less.

"Okay, be a good boy now and put your phone away, Edward Masen."

"Bye, you," I say.

"Bye you, too."

I hang up first, switch off my phone and put it away. I've got a novel - the new John Grisham - for the flight, but I can't bring myself to take it out. I know I didn't imagine what I heard in Bella's voice. There was definitely something to be heard, and it's making me tense.

I mean, we decided on Valentine's weekend, didn't we?

I close my eyes and lean by head back. I'm in an aisle seat, which is my preferred seat so long as I keep my elbow tucked in. Those trolleys have been known to leave a bruise or two as they travel up and down the aisles. Just ask my elbows.

There's a mother and daughter sitting to my left but, beyond the first acknowledgement when I sat down, I haven't paid them any mind. Well, not until take off at least. I open my eyes when the air hostesses run through the safety procedures. It doesn't take me long to notice that the one hostess keeps looking at me. I notice it about the same time that the girl sitting next to me does.

"It's because you're hot," she says when I frown.

I'm surprised, of course, and a little uncomfortable. She looks to be about thirteen, maybe fourteen, but I can't be sure. I look across at her mother, who's asleep against the window.

"And it's because you're Edward Masen."

My eyes widen.

"We all know who you are," she continues, clearly unfazed. "It's kind of hard not to, when your face has been everywhere for the past month." She blinks, and then grins. "But it's really because you're hot. Like, really hot."

I have no idea what to say to her, so I don't say anything. I mean, is this even something you can say 'thank you' to? So I just smile, and then I reach for my book, pop in my earphones and try not to pay attention to the now numerous eyes on me. Apparently word's spread that I'm on this plane. I even get an extra packet of peanuts. Can you imagine?

Don't they know? Can't they tell? There's only one girl for me, and her name is Isabella Swan. There is nobody else, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I like to think that it should be written all over my face, but maybe other people aren't looking close enough.

When we finally land, it feels like the tension in my body has completely disappeared. I've managed to push my conversation with Carlisle to the back of my mind, which isn't something I found difficult to do. In my years, I've learned to be a master at compartmentalisation and I reckon that's the part that Carlisle is so worried about.

What's going to happen to me when I finally crack?

Because I will.

Carlisle knows it as well as I do.

We disembark the plane in silence, but that's mainly because I've still got my earphones in. They're a sure way to create a barrier between me and the rest of the world and I never thought I would truly need it until now. It wasn't this way when I was flying to Seattle, and I'm left to wonder about why things have suddenly changed now I make a mental not to ask Bella about it. I clutch my bags tight to me as we shuffle out and into the Chicago air. I've definitely missed it.

And then there Bella is, all perfect brown eyes and pouty lips, waiting for me as I emerge from the tunnel. I want to kiss her, but I don't. Harry might kill us, seriously. The things she probably had to do to get him to allow her to pick me up. Airports are the breeding ground for bad things, apparently.

Bella does hug me though, snaking her arms around my waist and resting her head against my chest. I'm a little restricted by my backpack, tog bag and laptop bag, but I manage to wrap one arm around her. God, I've missed her and, from the way she's practically vibrating, I can tell she's missed me too.

"How was, uh, Maine?" I ask, pulling back slightly.

"Meh," she says noncommittally, and I know she doesn't want to talk about it. That's fine. I don't really want to talk about Seattle either. "Come on, let's go," she says, turning her body, but not fully releasing my waist. It makes the walk a little awkward - our hips keep bumping and my bag keeps slipping - but I don't want to let her go either. It's the first time we've been apart since we decided to try, and I really didn't like it. I want to do it as rarely as possible.

I let Bella lead the way out of the terminal. I didn't bother to check a bag in, so we're able to bypass Baggage Claim, which is a relief to Harry, I can tell.

The drive to Fraternity Quad is quick. Harry offers to help me with my bags into the house, but I decline. Instead, he walks ahead of us, doing a quick sweep to make sure everything is safe for Bella to enter. He's been a little extra lately, and it's freaking me out a little. Bella just takes it in stride, so I'm trying to do the same. What are the chances anyone actually tries something? They'd have to be insane.

Bella and I say quick greetings to the boys downstairs, and then we go straight to my bedroom. I close the door with my foot and automatically lock it - I swear it's habit. She's kissing me before I've even managed to set my bags down.

"Can you tell that I missed you?" she asks against my lips, and I'm so lost. I would leave the city just to come back to this. Really, I would. She's very much in control, and I let her move me around the room, my hands sliding up and down her sides, holding her to me.

Bella turns me, and then pushes me down onto my bed. "How's your mom?" she asks, before she climbs onto me, and straddles my hips.

"Happy," I say, because it's true. It was weird for me to witness, but I couldn't have asked for anything else. I want my mom's last few months to be the best yet and, even if I'm not directly responsible for it; I'm fine with that. I'm more than fine with that, to be honest. It takes a bit of the pressure off of me.

I look up at Bella, who's watching me curiously.

"I love you," I say.

Instead of responding, she attacks me with her mouth. And her hands. Before I know it, my shirt is unbuttoned, and her fingers are dancing over my muscles; her lips still keeping mine occupied. She runs the heel of her palms over my nipples, and I moan into her mouth, making her smile.

"What are you trying to do to me?" I ask, sounding breathless.

She lifts her head slightly. "Edward?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Fuck no."

"So, ssh."

I snap my mouth shut.

She laughs, absently shifting her curtain of mahogany hair out of the way, and then resumes her torture. Truthfully, I don't know what I've done to deserve all of this love, but I'm not complaining. Really, I'm not, because her lips follow where her fingers go, and I'm practically writhing before she's even unbuckled my belt. All I can do is watch her with wide eyes, too stunned to ask her why this is happening.

I'm terrified she's going to stop.

She doesn't.

She's all deliberate hands, dancing fingers and hot mouth. She's all tongue, teeth and moans, and I am literally at her mercy. Good God, I take it all back. There isn't an innocent bone in her body. She's proven me wrong. Oh, Isabella Marie.

Because, once she's had her way with me, she asks the question she's wanted to ask, crawling back up my body. "Who's the innocent one now?"

"Oh, stop it."

I turn my head to glare at her.

Bella's got an amused little smirk on her face, and I want to kiss it right off of her. "You know as well as I do that we couldn't drive ourselves," he reminds me. Unnecessarily.

"I feel emasculated," I say with a huff.

Her eyes flicker to the front of the car, before she scoots closer to me. "I can assure you that it's a feeling that won't last long, Mr Masen."

I just grin at her as I lift my arm for her to lean against me. We're still within Chicago's city limits, but the buildings are flying by and, soon, they'll give way to open spaces. I think that's the moment it will really hit me that this is really happening. This girl and I are going to spend the weekend holed away somewhere. Alone. Together.

I'm both nervous and excited. I have an entire plan for our first time, which is mainly because my mom may or may not have made sure that I gave it a lot of thought. It's supposed to be special, but I get this sneaky suspicion that Bella might just rip my clothes off as soon as the door closes at out destination.

"Edward?"

I look down at her, absently placing a kiss on her forehead. "Hmm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

She takes a deep breath. "Are you nervous?"

I close my eyes for a moment. "A little, yeah," I admit. "Are you?"

"A lot."

"What's worrying you?"

She shifts to get more comfortable, and her head drops a little on my chest. "I know it's irrational," she begins, and I suddenly know what she's trying to tell me.

"You're worried about after," I state. I could pass off her worries with some kind of joke, but I don't. This is a part of her past that still haunts her. "Bella?"

"Hmm?"

"I don't know if the words I say will ease your worries, so I want you to look at my actions, okay?" I let out a puff of breath. "We've already been through quite a bit, you and me, and I hope you know by now that I'm not in this relationship for the sex. I sure as hell am not in it for the publicity. I'm in it because I want nothing more than to be with you. I just - I just want to be with you. All day, every day. I love you and, if we don't even do this this weekend, I promise I will still love you."

"And if we do?"

"I will definitely still love you."

She lifts her head to look at me, her eyes meeting and holding mine. "I love you too," she says softly, before she kisses me. It's a quick kiss, but it promises so much more. So much more.

"Can I ask you something now?" I ask when I pull away.

She nods, as she resettles against me.

"Has my mom mentioned anything to you about, uh - "

"About what, Edward?"

"Did she talk to you about this trip they're taking?"

She frowns. "Why do you think that she spoke to me about it?"

I raise my eyebrows in question.

"Okay, I mean, I know that I talk to your mom more often than is typical when I'm dating her son, but our conversations are confidential, you know?"

"Bella?"

She smiles at me. "What exactly do you want to know, Edward?"

"She's happy, right?" I ask. "I mean, this is a big deal, and she's - " I stop. "I don't know what I'm asking."

She regards me for a moment. "It bothers you that you're not the one to take her, doesn't it?"

I look away.

"It's okay, Edward," she assures me. "She's your mom and, even though I know you're okay with the fact that she's on that plane right now; it's okay to feel whatever you're feeling."

I blink. "My dad promised her, you know? He promised to take her everywhere she wanted to go; even before she got sick. And when she did, he made even more promises. And then he died, Bella, and his promises died with him. I wanted - I - I was supposed to take her. I told myself that I would live this life, do this work and then, when I had the means, I would take her to every single place she was promised. But now I don't have time."

Bella kisses my jaw after a long silence. "She wanted to wait, you know?"

"Huh?"

"This trip, she wanted to take it rather over Spring Break, so that the whole family could go," she explains. "But..." she trails off.

"She might not have been able to travel then," I finish for her. Because she's getting worse; because she's dying.

We sit in silence for a long while, each of us in our own thoughts.

Bella is the one to break it. "So, speaking of Spring Break; what do you think about possibly spending it at Camp David?" she asks, and all I can really do is stare at her. "And, I suppose, possibly meeting my family while we're there?"

I swallow audibly.

"You don't have to decide now," she says quickly, possibly sensing my panic. "I mean, it's just an idea, Edward. And it doesn't have to be for the whole Break. I mean, I assume you're going home, and I want you to go home. I just, you know, that last weekend, maybe you could come back a day early, and we could..." she trails off when she notices my wide smile. "What?"

"Why so incoherent, Miss Swan?"

She blushes as if on command.

"Bella," I say, grinning stupidly at her. "Are you sure?"

"I am."

"You want me to meet them? All of them? For real?"

She nods. "I want it, yes, but also, my mom has been nagging me about it," she says, absently rolling her eyes. "She's very excited about the idea of you; about us. She's been trying to get me to take you home ever since I told her about you."

"And when was that?"

"The day I met you."

I frown. "The day you stumbled into my life?"

She blushes again. "I called her before and after I came to the party," she tells me. "She knew from the very beginning, Edward."

"You always wanted me, didn't you?"

"Always."

I just smile at her. God, this weekend is going to be amazing.

We get to our destination just after nine o'clock. Harry checks us in at reception under an alias, and then we're driving through the trees towards our secluded bungalow. I was told that it looks out onto a lake, which is part of the reason I picked it. The other reason is that Harry and Billy's bungalow is at least three hundred yards from ours.

Bella joked that she could be as loud as she wanted, and the boys wouldn't know any better.

Harry parks the car, and he and Billy do a sweep. They sent a team earlier to check that everything was safe, and now we get to just walk in. Which is what we do. Bella and I dump our bags in the front foyer, and then just stare at each other.

I'd like to say that Bella and I are mature about the fact that we are suddenly left alone. I'd like to say that we are calm and collected as we settle in and explore the bungalow like the sane, educated people we are trying to be. I'd love to be able to say that my plan to make everything perfect, with mood music and rose petals, goes off without a hitch. And I'd also like to say that we wait a suitable amount of time before we, essentially, christen every room in that bungalow.

But then I'd be fucking lying.