December 16th 2027

"Ouch," I say with a smirk when Esme lands her silver shoe on Boardwalk, "that's gonna cost you. How many hotels do I have...two?"

She groans at landing on my loaded space, again, and carefully counts out the colourful bills until she gets to the right amount; which is a lot.

"Don't look so smug, missy," Esme retorts, handing over the money and raising her delicate brow at me, "I'm coming back for that cash, so you may as well just set it aside." I laugh at how snarky she is when it comes to board games, and keep her money separate from my rather large pile. "That's it," she says with an approving nod.

Edward rolls next, and takes his silver boat from space to space, unwilling to set it down when he reaches Kentucky Avenue. "Oh for the love of-" he curses at the game, but holds his tongue, gazing at me with those pretty eyes from across the board. "Any chance you'll take a rain check?" he asks hopefully.

He does this every time we play Monopoly, because for some reason, he's always out first.

And as always, I'm tempted by his charm, by the way he looks at me, to almost say yes.

Almost.

"Yeee-no," I joke, "but nice try."

He sighs, "Well, Bella...I think you've cleaned me out, then. I'm officially broke." He gives me everything he has, including a Get out of Jail Free card, and observes, "I'm really not good at this game – I don't know why I play it."

Carlisle laughs, "We play because they rope us into it. Twenty-eight years with your mother and I still can't seem to say no to her."

When Carlisle smiles at Esme from his spot on my right, she doesn't return the gesture. Instead, she blinks at him, replying, "Twenty-eight? Oh, okay...I wasn't aware our first year of marriage didn't count as part of that."

I can see the faint traces of a smirk playing around the edge of her mouth, and to avoid being part of this awkward conversation, I casually stretch out my legs and stand up, practically bee-lining it to the kitchen. All I hear as I flee is Carlisle's stuttered, mumbled attempt to rectify his mistake, which – if I must say so – is quite amusing.

I pull a bottle of water out of the fridge, and turn around to find Edward settling himself against the counter. "Nobody ever said he was a bright man," Edward chuckles, "because that's definitely not the way to score brownie points with my mom."

I take a swig of water, and offer him a sip, laughing, "That's not the way to score brownie points with anyone." Edward hands the bottle back to me, and widens his eyes in the direction of the living room to the sound of raised voices. "Maybe we should leave?" I suggest.

Edward nods. "Good thinking," he says in a whisper, "want to go for a walk or something?"

As quickly and quietly as possible, Edward and I make our way to the front hall, slip on our winter jackets and boots, and head out the door. The lanterns lead us through the building, downstairs, and outside, where the large, beautiful sun is beginning to set in the sky, cresting over the tops of the towering sky scrapers of Seattle.

The colour is phenomenal, a delicate blend of amber-orange and blood red.

"Wow," I murmur, "it's so pretty."

"Yeah," Edward agrees in a soft voice, "it's something."

I twist my neck slightly to look at him, and when I do, I feel a light brush against my fingertips; a gentle touch of Edward's fingers, followed by the warmth of his hand slipping into mine. My lips pull up into a spontaneous smile, and my pulse quickens at the contact. I glance down at our hands instead, more than certain he's aware of how much I like him.

"Is this okay?" he asks, motioning to our joined hands.

I nod. "It's perfect."