To Andrew: It's hard to trust from 2,788 miles away, but with you, it wasn't even hard. In fact, you've made it the easiest thing in the world.

Rosalie

Two weeks later, Emmett called me while I was work, which was unlike him. After those first few heady days, we'd tried to buckle down and act like adults, at least at work. After work, though, we laughed and giggled and swooned over each other like a couple of lovesick teenagers. But at work, at least, I tried to be professional.

I answered the call as I reminded myself that he must have something portentous to share. And I wasn't wrong.

"Emmett, what's going on?"

"Hey babe, something fantastic happened!" He sounded unbelievably excited—like a kid let loose in a candy store or me in a mall with a limitless credit card.

"What?" It was impossible to prevent the eagerness from leaking into my voice. I'd found over the last month that anything that he cared about, I found I did too. It was impossible not to let our lives mix somehow, even though we weren't actually in the same state.

"I got my schedule for the next month. In three weeks, I'm flying a businessman into Portland."

My heart dropped through my stomach to the floor and beat sluggishly and unevenly. I didn't even know what to say. We'd never discussed meeting before, but that was clearly what he was trying to make happen. And why wouldn't I want to meet Emmett?

Maybe because we were soulmates of sound and words—not soulmates of the flesh.

"You're not saying anything." Emmett's voice was undeniably reproachful and I could tell his feelings were hurt that I hadn't been as immediately excited as he was at the prospect of meeting in person.

How could I explain to him that I was full of a mixture of fear and undeniable excitement? How could I tell him about one without mentioning the other?

"So you think we should meet?" I managed to get through my uncooperative throat and past my leaden tongue.

"The question is," Emmett said more sternly than I liked, "is why you don't want to?"

"It's not that I don't," I insisted. "I just think it's a big step. Maybe we're not ready for that yet."

Emmett made a frustrated sound deep in his throat and I wanted, desperately, to agree that I was being ridiculous, but I couldn't. Fear seemed to have totally paralyzed me and any rational thinking I had left.

"So that's your decision then?" Emmett's voice was hard and hurt.

"For right now," I replied, my heart full of misery.

"Fine. I have to go. Bye." Emmett hung up before I could even protest.

After the phone call, I couldn't even face work. I told Jessica, our boss, that I was going home for the day. I said I was sick, and didn't even care that I was clearly glowing with health.

I hated what I'd said to Emmett, but I didn't know what else, even after hours of contemplation, I could have told him. I still felt the same way and I just wanted him to understand that something of this magnitude couldn't be rushed. If he pushed too hard, I knew myself well enough to know I'd run.

I waited all afternoon and evening for Emmett to call me back, or to text me and apologize for being so short on the phone. He didn't call or text or anything. I supposed he was waiting for me to make the first move again, but I was too scared if I called, he'd still be angry.

Finally about midnight, I threw on a pair of sweatpants and flip flops and grabbed my car keys. When I was depressed, I liked to eat junk food, which is why I didn't keep it in the house. Unfortunately, there was a Walgreen's right across the street from my apartment complex, and I'd become desperate enough that I didn't care about cellulite or calories.

Grabbing a bag of barbecue potato chips and a bag of peanut butter M&Ms, I trolled the aisles of the drugstore restlessly, wanting something else but not knowing what it was. I passed the haircare aisle, the makeup section and the cold medicine without even pausing.

Then I saw it.

The middle of the Walgreen's was decorated in an explosion of red and pink. How could I have forgotten that Valentine's Day was only weeks away? I glanced at my Blackberry, and was shocked to see that in fact, Valentine's Day was three weeks away.

Three weeks.

My heart stuttered and nearly stopped in my chest. Emmett hadn't been assigned to come out to Portland for work. Somehow he'd managed to request the assignment or maybe he'd even taken the week off so he could come out and be with me for the most romantic day of the year.

Love, or something so close it nearly seemed to be identical, swamped me so completely that it felt as if the entire world was tilting on its axis. Emmett McCarty, regardless of what he looked like, cared enough about me that he was willing to go out on a limb so we could be together.

I nearly ran out of the store, dropping the bag of chips and the candy. I didn't want junk food now; I just wanted to talk to Emmett.

I dialed his number with shaking fingers as I climbed into the car. I didn't even remember how late it was where he was until he answered the phone, sleep fogging his voice.

"Rosalie?" he questioned groggily.

"I'm sorry it's so late," I said in a rush, "I just had to talk to you."

"It couldn't wait until morning?" he asked, sounding more than a little annoyed. Of course, it was 3 AM where he was.

I felt a little bad, but ultimately, I knew I couldn't wait to tell him about my decision.

"You're going to be here for Valentine's Day, right?" I asked almost casually, but I knew the excitement in my voice gave me away.

"Yes, I am." Emmett sounded hesitant and I guessed I couldn't blame him. After all, I'd shut him down so completely before. I hadn't even been capable of discussing my fear and my uncertainty with him like a mature adult. No doubt he'd decided that he didn't want to see me after all, but I owed it to him to at least be honest so I plunged ahead anyway.

"I want to see you, meet you. But I'm terrified, Emmett. This is fucking scary."

There was silence on the line and I wondered for a brief yet everlasting second if maybe he'd hung up on me.

"It is scary, but I think it'll be worth it. You have to know how much I want to meet you, Rosalie." He sounded hushed and almost reverent and I believed him. Even better, finally, I felt I could trust him and with something bigger than I'd ever imagined.

"I know it'll be worth it," I told him, and I could nearly feel strength of his smile across the tenuous phone line. "Even though I'm scared."

"If you weren't, I'd be worried."

"I should let you go back to sleep," I said shyly, a little ashamed that I'd totally forgotten the time difference between us in my eagerness to tell Emmett how I felt.

"I've told you, I don't need to sleep nearly as much as you think I do," he teased, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"I know, but it's still late. Go to sleep," I playfully ordered and we said our goodbyes and I pressed the end button on my Blackberry.

Leaning back in my seat, I knew I'd taken a stand, one way or another, and I felt good about it, but honestly, the future still loomed ahead and it was dark and unknown and almost dangerous. I still half-believed that I wouldn't get out of this without a broken heart, but I'd almost come to terms with the possibility because I believed that at least the momentary, fleeting happiness would be worth the pain.

The three weeks passed both incredibly fast and mind-numbingly slow. Whenever I talked to Emmett, and that was nearly all the time now, the days seemed to drag by. I'd ask him every day how much time we had left, and the answer was always far, far too high.

But before I even knew it, the day was upon us, and I couldn't deny that I was literally shaking as I drove towards the airport to pick him up. So many questions were racing through my mind.

How would we greet each other? What if he didn't like what he saw? What if I didn't like what I saw? What if we weren't as perfect for each other as I'd always thought? What if things were awkward and weird?

Of all of the things I asked myself those final minutes before Emmett arrived at the lounge past the security gate, I knew for sure that at the very least it was sure to be awkward and weird. Both of us had confided so much that though we knew our personalities seemingly in and out, there had been zero physical interaction.

I peered nervously down the concourse, and tried to take a few deep calming breaths. When I'd asked Emmett last night how I'd recognize him, he'd simply laughed and said I would just know who he was. At the time it had seemed like an incredibly romantic gesture based on chemistry and fate and faith. Now, in the light of day, with the possibility of approaching the wrong man, it seemed rather foolish.

There were several men walking down the security aisle and my heart nearly slowed to a sluggish halt, and then began beating hard and unevenly. My palms were sweaty and I suddenly felt an intense desire to pee. I couldn't even remember the last time I was this nervous.

None of them men seemed right, so I gazed around them, shifting my weight from foot to foot. No doubt I was white as a sheet and hardly looking my best. Not for the first time, I wished that we'd met at the wedding and there hadn't been this excruciating anticipation before our first meeting.

A tall, built man with dark hair and dimples stopped in front of me and for half a second, I nearly ordered him to move because I was searching for my soul mate and god damn it, he was blocking my view.

Then I glanced up at him again and decided that sinking through the floor would suit me down to the ground right now.

"Hi Rosalie," Emmett smirked, and I looked up, breathless and more than a little shell-shocked. I'd been half-prepared for him because of Bella's description but really, he was so tall that I nearly had to crane my head to see his face clearly. He was tall and handsome and more than I could ever have had a right to expect.

In fact, my skin was virtually tingling with how close he was and how intensely his eyes were boring into mine.

"Hello," I stammered, not sure at all what to say to him. I'd been mentally preparing myself to not go manic on him, but in all my fierce commitment to stay normal, I'd seemingly forgotten to figure out what I should actually say.

I opened my mouth to say something else, anything else at this point, but I never got the chance. One strong arm hooked around my waist, pulled me towards him, and slowly, deliberately—like he couldn't wait a second longer—Emmett kissed me.

For just half a second, I wanted to pull away. The last place I wanted to have our first kiss was the very public airport concourse, but the soft pressure of Emmett's lips on mine stopped all those thoughts in their tracks because then all I could think was this was Emmett and he was kissing me and it was so much like all my dreams that I wanted to die a little from the sheer wonderfulness of it all.

The kiss went on and on and Emmett pulled me hard against him—or maybe I pushed into him, desperate to get even closer—it was hard to say, really, because I was so absorbed in the feel of his lips on mine and the intimate brush of our tongues. Never in a million years would I have done this with any other man, but with Emmett it felt and seemed incredibly natural and right.

Of course we would fit together this well—like I'd been created just for him to kiss. I wondered if this was why every other man had felt anywhere from slightly off to completely wrong.

Finally, we broke apart, gasping for breath, but still, Emmett didn't let me go. I rested my head on his chest and pressed my eyelids closed, to prevent the sudden tears of happiness from escaping. Girlfriends had told me what it was like when you met the man, but I'd always secretly discounted their stories as a bunch of bullshit. But, really, they hadn't been so wrong after all. It did feel different with the right man—like the heavens opened up for the angels to burst into sudden, glorious song.

"We should get out of here," Emmett mumbled, and I wanted to argue. I felt just fine right here, thank you very much. But I supposed I saw his point. I'd just been about five minutes and a few less people away from letting him take me in the airport terminal.

"Okay," I said reluctantly.

"You don't want to go somewhere. . .more private?" Emmett laughed suggestively, and I glared at him.

"Darlin', I was just teasing you. You know that. Not that I'd complain."

Secretly, I wasn't sure if he was kidding or not. But I did know that I wouldn't complain either. So maybe I should just take us back to my apartment and get to know him the way I'd been dreaming about since the moment I'd heard his voice the first time.

If I wanted to be honest with myself, part of the reason I'd been so epically nervous was because I'd dreaded the moment where I'd discover that our physical selves weren't nearly as compatible as our personalities. But it appeared that this wasn't going to be the case at all. In fact, it seemed as if it was going to be exactly the opposite.

"Let's go," I said, reaching for his free hand and intertwining my fingers between his. "I want a chance to talk to you before we go to the game tonight."

"Oh, we're going to talk alright," Emmett boasted with that hint of a Southern accent just a little stronger, and, unbidden, I imagined my favorite fantasy again.

A shirtless Emmett carrying me up the staircase, my nightgown trailing down the steps like Scarlett O'Hara, and him taking me to our white-flounced canopied bed, and finally, him blowing my mind just like Rhett Butler would have blown Scarlett's.

AN: I keep forgetting to thank my beta, CallistoLexx. Thanks Tif! Also, there will probably be two updates today, if I'm going to get this beast written by Valentine's Day. Thanks for everyone's reviews. . .y'all apparently like my quite saccharine story!