Glossary terms:

FFSC- Fleet and Family Services Center

"Babe, I already told you. I think you should do what you think is best." Edward is being too supportive, and I never thought I'd think something like this, but at this moment, I sort of miss the old Edward. The one who didn't care about anyone but himself.

He's currently in the shower because he just got home from work, and he stunk to high heaven. I'm gathering up his uniform to throw it in the washer when I feel my frustration mounting. I drop his uniform and let out a shriek. He pokes his head out from behind the shower curtain and stares at me.

"What is wrong with you?" He's wiping suds off his face and sputtering.

"You! You're what's wrong with me. I love you so much, Edward, but you're being … too UGH!" I stomp away and head to our bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I'm pacing, feeling equal parts guilty for blowing up at him and frustrated because I can't make my life work out here like I wanted it to.

I can hear Edward stumbling around in the bathroom before he bursts into the bedroom, dripping wet, with a towel wrapped around his waist. His chest is heaving, and his eyes look wild with concern and confusion. "Bella, what's going on?"

I turn from my spot by the closet to look at him by the door, some eight feet away from me. I'm trying hard not to completely break down. I know I can't be strong all the time; I've been working on this in therapy. But the idea of just letting go right now when I can't quite put everything into words makes me even more frustrated.

"I want to preface this by saying that I love you so much, but sometimes, like right now, I sort of miss the asshole you used to be. Right now, I need you to just be a little harsh with me, I guess. Or maybe, I just need you not to just leave it to me. We're supposed to be partners. Help me!" Then I feel it. The tears finally spilled over, and I'm crying in our bedroom.

Edward starts to take a step toward me and stops. His arms come up to cross over his chest, and he smirks. "You want to know what I think? I think sometimes you're a little spoiled, and you just expected everything to fall into your lap. I think someone offered you an incredible opportunity, and instead of taking it at face value and maybe taking a chance on it and yourself, you're going to second guess it, which is kind of your MO." He rips the towel off and dries off quickly, moving to the dresser to grab some boxers, pulling them on harshly.

"I think if you don't want it, don't take it. You said it yourself; you aren't qualified, so why waste your time helping people who need it." He wheels around to look at me, "But if you don't take it, you don't get to wallow in the fact that you could have helped someone when they needed it because that's also part of your MO. You want people to be better? Be an example."

I watch him snatch his towel and walk out of the room, completely dumbfounded. I've stopped crying, either from shock or because his words sobered me up. He's right. He's right about everything.

I look around the room, sighing. It's not messy, but I clean up what I can. I can't face him right now; I think we both need a little bit of time, and I need to think. When I finish in the bedroom, I move to the bathroom. It's a bit of a mess from Edward jumping out of the shower in a hurry at my outburst. I wipe up the water on the floor, make sure the towels are hung up, pull the shower curtain closed, and then grab the discarded uniform to take down to the laundry room.

Edward's puttering around in the living room, and as I put his clothes in the wash, I really consider what he said and this situation. Maybe I am a little spoiled, thinking that things were going to fall into place for me. I watch the clothes spin for a moment before I take a deep breath and walk out to find Edward.

He's sitting on the couch, folding clothes while Jeopardy plays on the TV. He doesn't glance up when I come to stand next to him. He continues to ignore me when I clear my throat. I move to stand fully in front of him, blocking his view of the TV, and he finally looks up. "Can I help you?"

I roll my eyes before leaning down, pressing my lips to his. "Thank you," I say as I pull away. Edward reaches out and grabs at me, pulling me down onto his lap, my legs straddling his thighs.

"I don't ever want to be a dick to you again. But if you need me to tell you what I really think, then just ask me." His hands are wandering up and down my back in a soothing motion. "I can't make these decisions for you, but I can give you my opinion. I want you to be happy and content, but I know this life is difficult from your end."

Leaning forward, pressing my forehead to his, I smile. "I should shut up and support you. You're the one about to deploy."

"We can't compare apples and oranges, Bella. It's not that simple."

"I'm going to call Victoria tomorrow and see what's available with FFSC. I don't think victim advocacy is for me, but there has to be a place for me there." I pull away from him, settling firmly on his lap. "I'm sorry I wasn't clear about what I needed from you."

"Good for you." His hands start to drag over my clothes and his eyes darken. "You know what we haven't done here?" Edward's fingertips are skimming under the hemline of my shirt, trailing along my skin.

My breathing hitches as I squirm. "What's that?"

"We haven't broken in this place. You know, when we lived together before, we couldn't do anything in any of the common spaces, and we never bothered at your condo." His hands slide down to hips, anchoring me to him.

"I might need you to make a point soon." I can feel him growing hard beneath me. We've made love in the time since I've moved here. But as we've settled into domesticity, and his busy work schedule as they work to prepare to leave, everything has slowed down significantly.

"My point, my love, is that this is our home, and we can do whatever we want to in it. Maybe you don't miss my attitude, but you miss how I used to fuck you." His hips buck up into me, and I feel him hard and ready for me. "Is that what you missed? Do you need me to take charge and fuck you on every surface in this house?"

I nod, feeling a soft whine creep up in my throat.

"I need you to be clear, Bella. You're the one who always says communication is important." His hands slide up under my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. "Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need from me."

Edward's whole body is flushed as I sit atop him. He's clad in just a pair of boxers, and his nostrils are flared, chest heaving. How we got here is beyond me, but I know I need this, and I suspect that he does as well. I reach back, unclasping my bra, letting it fall to the floor behind me.

"I need you to fuck me, Edward. Make me scream your name until I'm hoarse. Make me forget everything except you and me." I've barely gotten the last word out before Edward leans forward, scooping me into his arms and kissing me with a wild abandon that we've never lost, but I haven't felt in months.

Edward pulls away from me abruptly, grabbing me around the waist and standing up. I laugh as he drops me onto the couch and pulls at my sweats, dragging them down my legs, tossing them over his shoulder. When he drops to his knees in front of me, I can't help but squirm.

"You have to hold still, Bella. Can you do that for me?" I nod, wondering where this came from. Edward and I have never had this type of relationship. He's never been dominant over me. It's not a kink for him; at least, I'm pretty sure it isn't.

I nod as he slides my underwear over my hips and down my thighs. Without preamble, he dives into my pussy, tongue first, and I'm reminded of our first encounter, back when we fought after the batting cages. It's always been good, satisfying, but the ferocity with which Edward wants to please me is overwhelming. As if he needs to prove to me or to himself that he's capable of it.

In no time, I'm clawing at his skin and screaming his name as I come down from my first orgasm. But he won't relent, his fingers pumping in and out of me in a steady rhythm as I try to catch my breath.

"Edward, I want—"

He smirks from his place of genuflection. "I know exactly what you want." He removes his hands from mine and pulls me up from the couch, pressing a kiss to my lips. Before I can sink into the kiss, he pulls away. "I love you. I don't want you to forget that. This is … is—"

Without warning, I push him down onto the space I just occupied, yanking his boxers off before I sink down on his throbbing cock. We both sigh, and I lock eyes with him. "You and I both know exactly what this is, Edward."

The utterance of his name from my lips sends him into a frenzy. His hips buck up as I slam down on him. Our moans mingle in the space as my orgasm builds, but unlike years before, Edward pulls me closer to his body and whispers his love and adoration for me.

My nails dig into his shoulders as my orgasm crescendos, and all I can truly think about is how much this man loves me, how he changed himself for the better to save himself and me. It doesn't matter how good the sex is, and it's good. All that matters is that we're trying to make it work and make the best of what we've got.

"Bella, baby." As Edward comes apart beneath me, and I shatter, I'm reminded that we make sense.

As we come down, our breathing evening out, I lean down to kiss him. "I love you. Maybe I don't give you enough credit or—"

"You don't give yourself enough credit." His hands are in my hair, his fingers raking through it. "I'm leaving in a few weeks. I need to know you're going to be all right."

I can't say for sure, but I know the answer he needs from me while he's gone, and it's probably mostly true. "I'm gonna be fine."