A/N: Okay, let me clear up any suspicions that may be lingering in your mind from the end of Chapter 18. No, the proposal scene was not based on personal experience! If only! *Sighs dreamily*

Thanks as always to Evelyn-Shaye and MunkeeRajah, the best betas in the world. They are soooo much more than proofreaders! If this story is good, they are a big part of why, and I wouldn't trade them for anything, not even for a glimpse of Nahuel in his boxers!

The technical glitch that kept people from reviewing Chapter 18 should be resolved with this chapter, so have at it. Remember, when we get to 350 reviews I'll post another outtake from Nahuel's POV. If that's not enough to tempt you to speak your mind, I'll also send a preview of Chapter 20 to everyone who reviews.

Finally, I'm making a story rec - if you haven't already discovered the lovely work of BellaEdwardLover1991, please check out her drabble Sunshine's Path. We've got a deal going that she double updates on days when I update. Let me tell you, I know from experience it's a lot harder to produce a couple hundred pithy, intelligent and moving words like she does than it is to yammer on for 5,000 like I do!

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.

Chapter 19 – Sense of Doubt

Leah POV

The first time I received a marriage proposal, it was the kind of romantic, perfect moment that every girl dreams about. On my twenty-first birthday, Sam whisked me away to Seattle for a romantic weekend. He staged the proposal at one of the city's finest restaurants, hid the ring at the bottom of a champagne flute and even got down on one knee in front of everyone in the dining room. The adoration in his eyes made me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world.

It was the kind of proposal that makes your friends swoon when you recount it, the kind you know you'll be telling your grandchildren about with a twinkle in your eye long after you've gone gray and saggy. I immediately said yes without a moment's doubt, absolutely sure I'd just taken the first step toward a life of blissful happiness with the man of my dreams.

I think we all know how that turned out.

In contrast—because really, how could a mere human boyfriend ever compare to a half-vampire imprint?—the details of Nahuel's proposal, delivered mid-thrust, weren't ones I'd ever share in polite company. And while I was surer of my love for him than anything else in my life, the idea of marrying him left me totally confused and, frankly, terrified.

First of all, I couldn't imagine why he would want to, and I asked him that bluntly once my eyes uncrossed from the shock—and my third orgasm of the night. He was already tied to me in the strongest way possible as my imprint. What more did we need?

I didn't think my question was that outrageous given our unique circumstances, so I was surprised by his reaction.

"Humans marry when they are in love, do they not?" he countered, his voice tight with anger. "Mated vampires also wed. You are mine, and I am yours. Why would you question my desire to marry you?"

He was, in so many words, asking what the hell my problem was. Unfortunately, I didn't really know why I wasn't leaping for joy at his proposal. And instead of trying to figure out—with his help—just what was bothering me, I gave him all the logical arguments one would spew out in this kind of situation:

We hadn't been together that long.

He was rushing things.

We didn't know each other that well.

We were too different.

What would people say?

His father wouldn't approve, and would probably try to kill us both because of it.

The more excuses I trotted out, the angrier—and quieter—he became. In the end, he was angry enough to lever himself from between my thighs, grab the edge of the comforter and yank it out from under me. He wrapped me in the sandy covering without another word and ran with me in his arms back to the house in total silence.

It didn't dawn on me that I'd deeply wounded his feelings, that his anger was a cover for the hurt, until we were back in my bed, and his quiet, even breathing signaled that he'd fallen asleep. By then it was too late to apologize.

Sometimes I just couldn't get the hell out of my own way.

SSW/SSW/SSW

The fact that Nahuel didn't bring up marriage again in the days and weeks that followed made me think that he was very hurt by my lack of an enthusiastic response. Our day-to-day reality—as bizarre as it was with battle training, patrolling for rogue vampires and trying to figure out what Joham's next move would be—quickly regained prominence in my mind, and I was happy to let Nahuel's proposal drift to the bottom of my consciousness.

Still, despite our growing closeness and the fact that he was in my pants at every opportunity, I knew the question still burned for Nahuel. His total silence on the subject made me feel almost as pressured as if he'd been riding my ass about it every single day.

So the idea was never really gone from my mind. As the weeks wore on and Jake's wedding approached, I began to think about it even more. Questions overwhelmed me.

When Joham was finally out of our lives, would we stay in Forks? Would Nahuel want to? Would he rather return to South America? Would he want me to go with him? Or would he want to stay with his sister and follow the Cullens like everyone else seemed to be planning to do?

But even with all those very valid questions stewing in my brain, I knew that at the heart of it, my reaction really made no sense. Not only was Nahuel my imprint, I loved him—completely and irrationally. Every instinct screamed at me to give him what he wanted. So what was my problem? Why couldn't I make this commitment? If marriage really was so insignificant compared to the power of the imprinting bond, what was the big deal in giving the man I loved something he so obviously desired?

I really needed someone to sound off to, but who? Talking to my mother or Seth was out of the question. They'd both have me picking out china patterns before I got five words out of my mouth. And somehow it didn't feel right to dump one more thing on Jake, especially when he was dealing with all the pressures of his own impending nuptials.

I was sinking fast beneath the weight of trying to make this monumental decision on my own.

The irony of the situation did not escape me. I'd resented the hell out of the whole idea of imprinting, because I felt it took away my choices. And now that I was faced with a situation in which I actually had a choice, I couldn't make up my mind.

I was dismally, stupidly vapor-locked.

I was also desperate. I needed to talk to someone. It needed to be someone who could understand my unique circumstances. And it needed to be someone who could keep a secret—in more ways than one.

I could think of only one person who fit that description, which was how I wound up one afternoon standing outside a quaint little stone cottage, in a secluded glade in the woods somewhere on the sprawling expanse of Cullen lands. I was about to talk to the last person I'd ever thought I'd turn to for advice.

Bella opened the door just as I raised my hand to knock.

"Oh! Hi, Leah."

I didn't know why she sounded surprised. She must have heard me walk up to the house. Plus, I'd called her the night before to ask if it would be okay to come over. I'd told her I wanted to talk to her alone, and let her draw her own conclusion that it would be about her father and my mother. After all, we were going to be—Gah!—step-sisters someday soon.

I dropped my hand and cleared my throat, trying to take minimal, shallow breaths. The vampire stench was really bad, probably because the structure was so small and Bella and Edward spent a lot of their time here, alone.

"Hi, Bella. Thanks for agreeing to see me."

She blinked at me like an owl, her surprise actually seeming to grow. Of all the Cullens, Bella really was the most human, maybe because she'd been human not so long ago. "Oh sure, no problem. Would you like to come in?"

Good God, no! How can Nahuel smell so good when the rest of them smell so damn bad?

"Uh, I was hoping maybe we could take a walk?"

Bella was closing the door behind her before I finished my sentence. "Say no more," she chuckled. "We can stroll down by the river. Sometimes I forget that not everyone is as used to eau du vampire as Jake."

"Thanks," I mumbled as Bella led me down a path of small river stones that wound around the side of the house and led to the backyard garden. Past the adorable little white picket fence that defined the perimeter of the garden, an open field stretched a few hundred feet to the tree line. Beyond the trees, the river burbled along with an annoyingly mirthful sound.

We walked in uncomfortable silence through the garden and out into the field. Now that I was actually here, I had no idea how to begin. I'd never been friendly with Bella. Hell, I'd barely ever been civil to her. I was surprised that she let me off the hook by making the first move.

"So, Leah, did you want to talk to me about Sue's bridal shower?"

I halted and gaped at her. I hadn't even thought about it, but now that she brought it up, I realized as the daughter of the bride, I should probably be responsible for my mom's shower. Shit! I knew buttkiss about planning something like that.

"Uh, no," I stammered. "I mean, I guess we should discuss it, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh." Confusion knitted her perfectly arched brows. She watched me expectantly, and when I didn't immediately elaborate, she began to walk again, tipping her head in a beckoning gesture.

"Is it about Jake? Or Renesmee?" she ventured after another minute of silent shuffling on my part.

"No, it's nothing to do with them, or the pack …." I trailed off.

She tried to help me out again. "Look, I know we're not really friends, but we're going to be step-sisters soon," she said. "I don't have to know you well to be able to see something is really bothering you."

She chuckled unexpectedly. "I mean, you must be really desperate about whatever it is if you want to talk to me about it."

I smiled nervously, feeling heat flush across my cheeks. "Yeah, you could say that."

Aaahh, fuck it. Just spit it out.

"Nahuel asked me to marry him," I blurted.

She stopped dead in her tracks and her jaw dropped open. She froze, utterly still in that super-creepy way that vampires get when they forget that humans fidget. She knew I'd imprinted on Nahuel—by now, everyone knew. But she looked as stunned by the idea of a marriage proposal as I had felt when it happened. She recovered quickly, however, clapping her mouth shut. Must get it from Charlie.

"Hey, congratulations," she offered, her smile genuine. Whatever she saw on my face caused her grin to falter and fade. "I mean, I'm assuming congratulations are in order, but maybe not?"

I rubbed my hand over my eyes and stared at my feet. "I don't know. I haven't answered him yet."

"Oh." The confusion was back in her musical voice. "I don't want to sound unfriendly, but I'm not sure why you're telling me this."

"I need to talk to someone," I sighed, dropping my hand from my eyes and finally looking at her too-perfect face. "I have no freaking idea what to do."

"So you want to talk to me?" she asked, disbelief ringing bell-like in her voice. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable talking to a friend about this? Maybe Jake? Or Renesmee? What about Rachel?"

"I'm not comfortable talking to anyone about this right now," I snapped at her. "But I thought maybe you could tell me what you did … how you handled things when Edward proposed."

She shook her head, frowning. "I'm not so sure that's going to be helpful to you. I didn't handle it well at first."

"Yeah, well, neither am I," I replied. "But I thought maybe you could give me some advice on dealing with an immortal that's hell-bent on being altar-bound."

She chuckled. "They can be pretty persistent, can't they? Edward really pestered me. Is Nahuel being insistent?"

I shook my head. "Actually, he's only brought it up once, but that was enough. I've been getting the silent treatment on the subject since."

She shrugged. "So, maybe the problem is solved for you? Maybe he's decided to let it go. I mean, at least for now?"

I'd wished for such an easy out. But I knew my imprint; the things he talked about the least were often the things that bothered him the most. "I don't think he's let it go. I think he's just really hurt and doesn't know what else to do. The last thing I want is to hurt him so much that this comes between us."

"Hmmmm. I see." She studied me thoughtfully for a moment, and then resumed walking. "Well, I'll help you however I can, but I'm not really sure our situations are that similar. I mean, you and Nahuel are on a lot more equal footing than I was with Edward."

I shook my head and raised my eyebrows at her. "I don't get it."

"Well, Edward was much stronger than I, but you and Nahuel seem fairly well matched," she said. "And then, too, Edward was immortal and I was only human. In order for us to have a future together, I had to give up my mortal life and that was a big sticking point for Edward. You don't have that issue."

I knew what she meant. As long as I was around vampires—or a half-vampire—and kept phasing, I wouldn't age. My mortality wouldn't need to be a dividing issue for Nahuel and me. I'd already thought of this, so I was a little surprised that I actually felt better to hear her articulate it. And suddenly, hearing her confirm what I already knew crystalized for me the heart of my hesitation.

I was afraid. I was afraid of the "forever" part of marriage. For Nahuel and me, there would never be a "'til death do us part" loophole. Marrying an immortal truly meant committing to him forever.

"How did you know … I mean, how could you be sure you'd love him forever?" I drew in a shaky breath, amazed at myself that I'd actually managed to ask my central question, let alone ask it of Bella.

She stopped again, and, when I kept walking, laid her icy hand gently on my arm. I couldn't help the shivers her clammy touch sent down my spine, and I hoped my reaction wouldn't offend her. She was really trying to help me.

"Leah, I'm obviously no expert on imprinting, and I'm surely no expert on relationships," she said, her voice kind and an amazing warmth in her golden eyes. "But I've seen how imprinting affected Jake and Seth. And I can see the changes in you."

She dropped her hand, but continued to hold my gaze. "I don't think you're worried that you will stop loving him. Maybe you're worried that he'll fall out of love with you."

It was as if she'd reached into my head to a little hidden room that I hadn't even known was there. A room where I'd locked away my deepest fears about my imprint. She kicked the door down with her dainty vampire foot and dragged my insecurity out into the harsh light of reality.

Bella was right.

It wasn't that I was afraid I'd ever stop loving Nahuel. That would be like saying I could one day learn to exist without oxygen. I was afraid I couldn't hold his attention beyond the conclusion of this crisis with his father, let alone for eternity. I knew he loved me, but for how much longer?

How can I expect him to love me, to want to be with me, forever?

I didn't realize I'd spoken aloud, but I must have because Bella answered me.

"I can't tell you the answer to that," she said. "But I think you know who can."

I knew what she was going to say, so I said it for her. "Nahuel."

She grinned and nodded.

And our cellphones began to ring at exactly the same moment, hers playing something that sounded classical, mine still bleating out that damned Shangri-Las tune. We answered in tandem.

"Hey, Jake. What's up?"

"Hello, Edward?"

Jacob sounded hurried and stressed. "Charlie's here at the Cullens'. There's been another murder in Port Angeles, and it looks like the work of a vampire."

"Shhiiittt," I hissed. "I'll be right there." I glanced at Bella and guessed from her expression that she was hearing the same story from Edward. I ended the call at the same time she ended hers.

"Guess we're going to the same place," I said.

She studied me for a second, and then her lips curved into a knowing smile. "Yes, I really think we are," she said.

And I knew she was talking about more than just a trip back across the field.