I'm still posting one chapter per day, until this story is completed. As of right now, there are 7 chapters planned, with 6 of them written and complete.

No copyright infringement is intended. All copyrights belonging to Stephenie Meyer are hers, and the remaining original ideas/content are mine. Thank you.


Edward heard his wife asking him to lay with her, and he worried. He worried that he would hurt her, physically, when he laid next to her. He worried that he would hurt her emotionally if he hesitated, but there was no avoiding that. Her body, though still beautiful to him, was not strong. Knowing all of the risks if she was injured somehow, made him even more careful.

Walking around to his side of the bed, Edward drew the covers back, shed his clothes, and climbed in next to his wife. It had been months since they'd been in bed together in any sort of a romantic way, and although they were both knew very clearly that this was not romantic, it was intimate. Bella stood and removed her own clothes, then slipped into the bed next to him.

Their heads laid on the pillows, eyes connected and saying what they were still too afraid to say out loud.

"I love you so much," he finally said.

Running his hands over the almost smooth skin of her scalp, he knew he was taking a risk. Bella might react poorly, hate that he was touching her where she no longer had her beautiful hair, but instead, she relished the feeling. Where she held shame and sadness, there was now heat and touch, skin against skin. He wasn't repulsed by her, as she was so deeply convinced, she realized.

Tears leaked from her eyes, beyond her control, and she repeated his words back to him.

"I love you," she gasped, heaving sobs wracking her body. "Couldn't have done this without you. Oh, God."

The thought of going through this alone, or with anyone but Edward, was simply incomprehensible to Bella. Though her initial goal had been to reassure him, to remind him that she was strong too, there she was sobbing.

"I miss you," she finally eked out. "I miss you so fucking much. Please touch me."

Whisper isn't even a low enough word for the volume of her plea, so soft and fearful were the words.

"Bella," he breathed. "Oh, my Bella."

Shifting his body closer, he pulled her into his embrace, but carefully. Everything was so careful these, so calculated. Gone was the spur-of-the-moment passion, decisions made on the fly, whimsical planning.

When she was close enough, he explained. "I want nothing more than to touch you, sweetheart. I want to touch you, love you, remind you of how sexy you are, I promise." He placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "You're just not strong enough yet. I promise you, when we've kicked cancer's ass, I'm going to give you the best weekend of your life. You'll be begging me to stop."

They laughed together, for the first time in months, it felt like. It had been so long, too long.

"I'm going to hold you to that," she mumbled against his chest.

They laid like that until the sun had begun to set, and Esme had knocked softly on their bedroom room, Renesmee needing their attention. It was the first time Bella felt truly hopeful, truly on the "other side" of her diagnosis.

She was going to kick cancer's ass, and she was going to be that person again. She was going to love her husband, be the mom she'd always wanted to be, and simply be, something she realized she'd taken for granted all her life.

Review, please?