Edward

Perfect moments come and go. A walk on the beach. The ferris wheel at Santa Monica pier. Dinner at a rooftop restaurant. Nothing feels right. I know I'm being unreasonably picky, but it feels too…big. Too trite. On one hand, I wouldn't mind the biggest moment of my life so far to be witnessed by a crowd of people. On the other, I know Bella doesn't like being the center of attention. I wonder if she'd want something more private. Champagne and rose petals. Just the two of us. But that feels overdone, too. My mind keeps going back to possible romantic places to pop the question.

I stare at the ring, just wanting it on her finger already. Stop being a neurotic idiot and just do it

I sigh, snap the black velvet box closed, and stuff it back into my pocket as Bella emerges from the bathroom.

After a long day of sightseeing, we keep things low key with dinner at a sushi place down the street and then kick back in our room for the evening. She opens the drapes to let in the city lights, and I take out my guitar.

"I want to play it," she says.

"You want to play my guitar? I didn't know you were interested."

She shrugs.

"If you really want to learn, I'll teach you." I hand it over and help her get comfortable with it. The the full-bodied instrument dwarfs her. She looks adorable.

"So what do I do first? I want to play my song."

I chuckle at her eagerness. "That's a bit complicated for your first lesson. Here." I show her which string plays which note and how to position her fingers, then position her fingers on the strings. "Now strum downward." She does, and a perfect G major chord resounds through the room.

"I did it!"

"Yes, you did." I smile and lean over the guitar for a kiss.

"Can I have one of those every time I play a chord correctly?"

"Absolutely. Let's try C major." I go on showing her how to position her fingers for each chord. "Those are really basic. You can play a lot of songs with three chords. A lot of rock."

"Really? Like my song?"

"Tell you what. I'll put your fingers where they need to go, and you strum."

"That's what she said." She dissolves into giggles as I stare at her.

"Someone's feeling a little slap-happy. How come I'm not allowed to say that, but you are?"

She laughs harder, and I shake my head and reach to take the guitar from her.

"No! No, I'll be good. I promise."

I reach out to show her the first chord of the very first song I ever wrote for her. "Now strum, down-up-down. Good. Do it again."

We pick out the song together slowly and awkwardly, laughing together as I hum and sing a few of the words. As I maneuver the fingers of her left hand over the neck of the guitar, I imagine the way that ring will look on the one that hovers over the E string.

And then I know. This is it. Our perfect moment. It's not a grand gesture or a particularly romantic setting. There are no witnesses. But it's quintessentially us. I look up into her eyes, and she meets mine.

"I love you," I tell her with a smile.

She returns the grin and cocks her head to the side. "I love you, too."

I hold her gaze, loving the way she looks at me. Wanting it forever. "Marry me, Bella," I whisper.

Bella

My hands freeze over Edward's guitar, and it slips slightly down my lap.

Edward reaches into his pocket and produces a black box. He takes the guitar, lays it on the coffee table, and kneels down in front of me. I'm stunned. No matter how long I've anticipated this moment, now that it's here, it feels surreal. I stare into his pleading green eyes as he takes my hands in his.

"I love you so much. I think I've loved you since that picnic in the park. Our second date. I've wanted for months to make you my wife."

That word—wife—sends a shiver through my body. He opens the box, takes out a beautiful ring, and holds it up to me.

"Bella Swan, will you marry me? Please?"

Tears form in my eyes. I smile through them and nod fervently. "Of course."

As he slips the ring on my finger, I watch in awe. It's big and it's sparkly. That's the extent of my knowledge of diamonds. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on tightly, never wanting to let go.

"I've waited so long to ask you," he says, touching his forehead to mine. "There were so many perfect opportunities this week, but none of them were right, you know?"

I nod, though I'm sure I know. "It was perfect."

"Do you like it?" he asks shyly, taking my hand in his and looking at the ring.

"I love it. I can't imagine anything more beautiful. But my favorite thing about it is that it's from you."

"I've been carrying it around all week."

"How long have you had this, Edward?"

His cheeks turn red, and I smile at the fact that he's the on blushing for once. "A while. I planned to ask you on Valentine's Day, but then I got sick. I waited forever for the perfect moment, but nothing seemed right."

"It would've been perfect no matter what. And you knew I'd say yes, right?"

"You know a couple of nights ago when we had dinner at that rooftop place?" It doesn't escape me that he ignores my question. "I had every intention of doing it there, but it didn't feel right either."

"It couldn't have been lovelier. I like that it was private. Just between us."

"Good. It's almost as pretty as you," he says, kissing my ring finger. My dad helped me pick it out."

My eyebrows draw together in confusion. "When did you see your dad?"

"Um…" he starts, and his blush darkens. It's amusing. "Well, we went shopping in Chicago for Christmas."

My jaw drops. "You bought it in December? Holy crap, Edward."

He silences me with a kiss and asks whether I want to call anyone. "It's kind of late back home," he adds.

"Let's keep it for ourselves for tonight," I tell him. "We can call people tomorrow."

His fingers move to my chin, and he tilts my face toward his. "I sort of want to go up to the rooftop and shout, 'She said yes.'" He kisses me again, this time on the forehead. "I love you."

Tears finally gather in the corners of my eyes as the magnitude of this moment hits me. "I love you so much, Edward," I say, combing my fingers through his hair. "And I can't wait to be your wife."

And it's true. I can't believe how lucky I am. I'm suddenly grateful for every little thing—even the bad parts—that transpired over the past two years of my life. They led me here, to this moment, in this room with Edward. Content, radiant, euphoric even—undoubtedly the happiest I've ever been.