As always this story would be nothing without my pre-reader SparklyMeg, and my beta's Marly 580 and Mauigirl60. This story would be nothing without you guys.
So a lot of you were worried I would drag out the angst…C'mon now, you should know I'm a HEA girl by now…
I really hope you enjoy this.
.
.
.
.
BPOV
The days speed by after my return from L.A. I quickly figure out that wallowing and crying in my apartment are not the best ways to spend my time, so I try to keep myself occupied. My attempts to distract myself prove fruitless, because Edward still plagues my thoughts, as only he can.
I look for jobs, but quickly realize I actually have a good thing going with my current role. What happened in L.A. was definitely one of the worst things I've ever been through, but I gained a strong friendship from it. Angela has stuck by my side, and although she's back at work, she constantly texts or calls to make sure I'm okay.
I'm not, but I'm getting there.
Alec keeps his word and lets me stay at home to recuperate. I keep to myself mostly, using the time to get things straightened out in my head, just as I promised Edward. I take Jake on long walks, enjoying the freedom of being able to do something so normal without having to look over my shoulder.
While I still feel a lot more comfortable being outside, my full confidence hasn't returned. Sudden movements and loud noises make me jump, and if I feel someone too close behind me, I freeze, the feeling throwing me back to that afternoon in L.A.
Rose and Alice both suggest counseling, but I don't want to go down that road yet. I know it's a fantastic idea for some people, but I want to try on my own first.
The first step for me—and my own form of counseling—was a visit to my parents. I'd been back in Seattle for two days before I decided to make the visit three hours west to Forks to visit my parents. I needed to get away from the bustle of the city. I wanted the peace and quiet. Most of all, I wanted my dad.
Earlier this week . . .
I pull my legs up under me and hold my hot mug with both hands as I try to warm up. This spot on our front porch has always been mine, and I refuse to sit inside just because there's a bit of a chill in the air. The sun set hours ago and darkness engulfs the house, except for a dim glow from the living room window.
I smile as I think back to all the times I sat here when I lived at home.
The time I wanted to buy my first bra, but didn't know how to ask my mom to take me shopping.
The time that some of the boys in school were being really mean to me and I couldn't understand why—my mom had to come out and tell me it was their way of getting my attention.
The first time I kissed a boy and thought it felt weird and slobbery.
The time I lost my virginity and thought my parents could tell just by looking at me.
A lot of my great decisions came from sitting on this rickety porch swing. It only seems right that I sit here now to ponder my future with Edward Cullen.
I blow on my hot chocolate before taking a tentative sip. Discovering it's the perfect temperature, I take a bigger mouthful, letting the warmth spread throughout my body. I let out a small sigh of contentment as the swing rocks gently back and forth. It's almost hypnotizing, and I can feel my body melting back into it.
I feel so far removed from everything—so much so, that it seems like a dream. Meeting Edward was definitely real; it's there in the thumping of my heart every time I think of him. But everything with my job, my apartment, and Lauren feels like it happened in a different lifetime.
My drink is starting to cool by the time my father pulls up. Jake is instantly on high alert, partly intrigued and also partly on the defensive at our interruption, but he calms down as I reassuringly pat him.
"Still outside, Bella? I don't think you've moved since I left for work." My father chuckles and sits next to me.
I shrug. "I just had some things to think about."
"Ah, I see." He wraps his arms around my shoulder and I snuggle next to him. For a moment, I'm taken back to my childhood. "And the seat still helps you think?"
"Of course."
He chuckles. "Old habits die hard, I suppose."
I don't reply, and we sit in silence for a few minutes before my dad speaks again.
"Have you finished thinking yet? I'm freezing my ass off out here!"
I laugh and stand up, holding my hand out for him to take. "Sure. Let's go inside, old man."
He mumbles something about 'old man', yet follows me inside, Jake hot on his heels. I take a seat on the couch, and Charlie takes up residence in his favorite chair after grabbing a beer.
"So, are you gonna share what had you thinking so hard?" He turns on the TV, but sets the volume down low so he can hear me.
I shrug. "Just some stuff."
He frowns. "I get that, Bella, but it must be something big to take you outta the city at the last minute without any notice."
I avoid his stare and fidget with the cup in my hands. For a man of little words, my dad always seems to know exactly what to say.
"What's going on, Bella?"
I sigh. "Umm . . . it's complicated."
He looks uncomfortable. "Is it about a guy?"
I smile sadly. "Yeah, you could say that."
"So, what'd he do?"
I huff and shrug my shoulders. "It's hard to explain. We had an argument. I suppose. Something happened, and when I tried to explain things from my point of view, he didn't believe me. I thought we had something good, but that just showed he didn't even trust me. He didn't even let me explain."
I pause and take a drink of my now-cooled hot chocolate. I wrinkle my nose in distaste and set the cup down on the coffee table.
"He just seemed so ready to believe I was the bad guy. I don't know, ugh . . . it just feels like he was so ready to give up on us. There wasn't any fight in him."
"Okay . . ." My dad takes a swig of his beer and sits back in the seat. "Are you gonna tell me what the fight was over?"
"Um . . . no."
If things ever get back on track with Edward, then I don't need my dad to have already made a judgment against him.
"Right. Of course not," he mutters. "So, I'm guessing you want to give him a second chance?"
I wriggle in my seat. My dad is asking me the question I've been trying to avoid. Do I want to give him a second chance? Does he deserve it?
"I think so," I say, finally. "Something else happened, something . . . big . . . and it made me re-evaluate things."
"And will you tell me what this something big is?"
I shake my head. "Nope."
He rolls his eyes at me, and I laugh. "Sorry, Dad." There's no way I'm telling him. If he found out I got kidnapped in L.A. by my ex-boyfriend's psycho ex-girlfriend, he'd never let me go back to Seattle.
He watches me silently, as if contemplating what to say. He opens his mouth a few times, but closes it right away, obviously changing his mind about whatever he was going to ask.
Finally, the silence becomes too much for him. "But you're okay? There's nothing wrong?"
I shake my head. "No, Dad. Nothing's wrong, I'm okay. I just needed to take a break and think about some things."
He takes another sip of his beer. "Good. Well, you're a sensible girl. I'm sure whatever decision you make will be the right one."
I watch as he goes into the kitchen, takes a new beer from the fridge, and comes back to the living room.
He changes the channel on the TV and settles on some fishing show. I know he's in for the night, so I head to my bedroom. As I'm just about to leave the room, he calls out to me, stopping me in my tracks.
"Yeah?"
"Make sure this guy works for it, though, or I'll be paying him a visit in Seattle."
.
.
.
.
My trip to Forks was great, and perfect for what I needed. I stayed up late watching trashy movies and slept later in the mornings, enjoying the chance to relax and enjoy life without a routine. I went on long walks with my mom and took lunch down to the station for my dad. We had dinner at home as a family, talking about nothing in particular. They were happy to hear about my job and the new opportunities it was bringing me, and encouraged me to stay. In their eyes, L.A. was a great experience—they didn't know about Lauren—and surely more would come from it. They did know something was up, but they didn't push me—and for that, I was grateful.
I used the time to think about everything I couldn't when I was in Seattle, where someone always wanted to offer me advice or their opinion. I didn't want that. I wanted to be able to sit down and process what the hell had happened in my life over the last nine or so months.
By the time I was ready to leave, I'd made my decision. I knew it had everything to do with the talk I'd had with my dad, and not just my thinking session on the porch.
It all came back to one thing: even though our relationship was fraught with obstacles from the start, I'd never been happier than I was when we were together. The good days outnumbered the bad, and the laughter overshadowed the tears. Nobody knew me like Edward; I realized that if I didn't act now, I could lose him.
And I couldn't have that.
I at least had to try.
.
.
.
.
It's not long after my return to the city that I agree to meet with Edward. We've spoken every day since we got back to Seattle, but I've yet to see him in person. Having him so close but not being able to physically see him makes me realize how much I actually miss him.
Edward seems persistent in getting me back, but keeps his distance at my request. I can hear his anguish each time I refuse to meet with him, yet he never says anything. I know it hurts him each time I turn him down, but it's taking me a while for me to be in the same place as him.
Now, with my first week back at work underway, I decide to call him and ask him to meet for drinks on Friday night. His eager response has me grinning, and I think that maybe we'll be okay.
.
.
.
.
By the time Friday night arrives, I'm a nervous mess. I rush home from work, chow down a quick dinner and win the stressful battle with my wardrobe. Now dressed, with my hair and makeup complete, I nervously wait for Edward to arrive. My plan was for us to meet up at the bar, but he insisted on picking me up.
I didn't put up much of a fight.
As eager as I am to see Edward, butterflies settle in the pit of my stomach, making it impossible to concentrate on anything other than the clock. All day, I've told myself that tonight will be just about two friends meeting up for drinks. But as I wait, fidgeting on the sofa, I admit to myself that this is a date. We've never been just friends.
As I wait, I try to remind myself that even though I'm seeing him tonight, we need to move slowly. I fell hard and fast for Edward, and although I won't admit this out loud, he still owns my heart. But when he believed the worst of me so easily, it felt as if he'd taken my heart and completely shattered it. As much as I want this to work out with him, I won't be taken in again so easily. It's why I put up these walls. I have to protect myself. I can't let him hurt me like that once more.
Not being able to settle down, I pour myself a small glass of wine—not because I need it, but to purely kill some time. If it kills off some of these butterflies in the process, it won't be a bad thing.
When there's ten minutes to go, I hear a car pulling up outside. I peek through the curtains, silently hoping Edward is just as eager for our date as I am. I grin when I see him in the front seat, giving himself what appears to be a pep talk.
I quickly pull the curtains back into place before he can see me, and I step away from the window. I pour the remainder of my wine down the sink and check the mirror for the last time. Skinny black jeans, red strapless top and red peep-toe pumps.
Yeah, this is definitely a date.
Three quick knocks on the door signal Edward's arrival, and I take a deep breath before answering. This is it. This is where we try to put the past behind us and focus on our future.
I bite back a gasp as I open the door. Having not seen him for weeks, his beauty almost knocks me on my ass. Wearing dark jeans and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he's never looked so handsome. When he sees me, his eyes light up, and his breathtaking smile graces his face.
"Edward," I breathe as I scan his body. My memories haven't done him justice.
He clears his throat. "Bella," he says softly, holding up some wildflowers for me. "These are for you."
I take them from him and invite him inside. He waits patiently by the door as I put the flowers in some water.
"You have a wonderful place," he says as I approach. He takes the time to look at the photos I have on display, and I look at him, completely puzzled.
"It looks the same as it did before."
He shakes his head and looks at me with a playful smile. "I haven't been here before, Bella."
I laugh. "What are you talking about? Of course you have."
He smiles wider. "No, I haven't." He takes his hand in mine, and the butterflies in my stomach are back. "This is our first date."
"What do you—oh…" I smile when I realize what he's doing.
He's already putting our past behind us.
.
.
.
.
Tula's is a small jazz bar and restaurant situated close to the water. The soothing tones of the music can be heard as we approach, and even though it's still relatively early, it's packed. A group of people sit outside, their tables full of beer and empty shot glasses. The raucous laughter coming from them indicates they've been here a few hours.
"Do you want to sit outside?" he asks. It's slightly cool out, but if we keep our jackets on, it'll be bearable.
I shake my head. "Can we sit inside?" I want to be somewhere more private with him, but I'm not ready to tell him that yet. We need to talk—about a lot of things—and I don't want to be surrounded by lots of people when we do.
"Sure." He smiles at me again, and I can feel my walls beginning to crumble.
Edward takes hold of my hand as we weave through the crowd; the feeling makes the hairs on my arm stand up. This all feels so familiar, yet so new at the same time.
The hostess takes us over to a small table, far enough away from where the band will be playing, yet close enough so we can still enjoy the music and talk comfortably at the same time. She hands us some menus before leaving us alone.
"I didn't know we were going for dinner. I already ate earlier." When I called him earlier to arrange tonight, we just spoke about drinks.
He shrugs. "If you want, we can just share some appetizers?"
I flick through the menu and spy some platters that sound great. I point them out to Edward and he agrees. When the waitress returns, we order some food with the wine and hand the menus back to her. Once she's gone, Edward turns his full attention to me.
I smile nervously and wait for him to speak. He wants to treat this like our first official date, so I'm going to let him take the lead.
"I'm glad you called me this week," he says bashfully. He looks so shy and nervous, and I so want to be able to reach out and take his hand in mine, but there's still something holding me back. It's a simple gesture, something I wouldn't have thought twice about in the past, but tonight, it's monumental. Holding his hand would be admitting I'm ready for more than friendship, and I'm just not sure I'm ready to do that—yet.
"I'm glad, too," I say, because I am. I really have missed him.
He sees my hesitation and changes the topic.
"How's work going?"
"It's good being back," I admit. "I needed the break, but it's great being back in the thick of things. We have a few interviews coming up—mostly all local right now." The thought of being sent anywhere still scares me, so I've agreed with Alec I'll be staying close to home for now.
"That sounds good," he murmurs, reaching for my hand. I hold my breath as I wait for his hand to cover mine again. There's nothing more that I want.
The waitress interrupts us with our wine, causing him to pull his hand back. She sets the bottle and two glasses down with a smile, and then we're alone together once again.
As soon as she's gone, my hand is in Edward's.
"Bella, I know I said this would be our first date, but I want to say something first."
My whole body tenses and I brace myself. "Okay."
He takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he blurts out. "God, I'm so sorry! I had no idea . . . and when I look back, it's all just a mess and I went about everything so wrong." He squeezes my hand and I close my eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling. "I just wish we could go back to the way things were."
I shake my head. "We can't, Edward." His face falls, and he tries to pull his hand away. I tighten my grip, stopping him. "It doesn't mean that I don't want to try, but we can't just fall back into the relationship we had. We clearly had—or have—issues, and that's something we can only work on with time."
He nods, a small smile now on his face. "You want to try again?"
I look down, unable to meet his gaze. "I wouldn't be here if I thought we didn't have something worth fighting for, Edward."
"Good." I look up, my eyes meeting his. "I'm glad to hear that. I won't let you regret this, Bella. We belong together, and I won't let you go this time."
The intensity of his words makes me shiver, but I don't look away. We need a new beginning, and I'm so happy that he agrees. What we had was great, and I will never regret it, but looking back, our whole relationship was tainted by Lauren, and I don't want that for our new one.
"Before we go back to our first date, can I ask a question?"
He looks nervous. "Of course you can."
"What's happened to Lauren? I haven't heard much from the police since I got back." I watch as he fidgets in his seat. "Oh, God, she got out, didn't she? The cops let her parents pay her way out?" My heart rate speeds up as several scenarios flash through my mind. Lauren is batshit crazy and won't give up until she has me gone and Edward back in her life.
"Shh, Bella. Calm down." He moves his chair around the table so he's next to me. He wraps a strong arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side. "She's not out. She won't ever get out. You are completely safe from her. I won't let her ever get close to you again."
"She's not out?" My voice is low and shaky as I recover from my mini outburst. I hate that Lauren has this much power over me, and I hope one day she doesn't, but she's much scarier than I ever thought.
"No." Edward softly strokes my shoulders, and I can feel my body automatically relax. "My parents and our family lawyers have been looking after everything, but they've made sure Lauren won't ever come near us again. Her parents flew to L.A. right away, and they haven't returned."
"They haven't? She's still in L.A.?"
He nods. "Yes. There was so much against Lauren that even if they tried to pay their way out, they wouldn't have been able to. They're too embarrassed to return to Seattle, so they stayed in L.A. with Lauren. They've admitted needs help, so she's been put into a mental facility. There won't be a trial—our lawyers have seen that she will remain locked up for a very long time."
"But . . . how?" I was sure I'd have to go through a trial of some sort.
"Bella, she's not well. Doctors have deemed her insane, so there can't be a trial. She will be in a hospital for the rest of her life."
"It . . . It's over?"
He kisses my forehead, and I allow my tears to fall. "It's over, Bella."
.
.
.
.
After our chat, I excuse myself and go to the bathroom to clean up a little. I hadn't meant to cry—I'd promised myself I wouldn't—but before we went on with our date, I needed to know about Lauren. L.A. has plagued my dreams ever since my return to Seattle, and knowing I now don't have to go through a trial is like a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. Edward's family lawyer has taken care of everything, and aside from me having to sign some paperwork, it's now all over and done.
We are free to focus on us.
After touching up my makeup, I return to find a table full of food.
"I think we went a bit overboard with our orders," he laughs, picking at his plate. The tense atmosphere from before is gone, and I'm happy to move on from it. Instead, I enjoy the way Edward looks at me as I take my seat next to him.
I chuckle. "I'll say. There's no way we'll finish this."
We pick at the food and make light conversation. We talk about the club and his parents, and our night begins to feel like a first date again. I can't help but smile when I realize this is similar to our first date at the open mic night, and I wonder if Edward planned it that way.
"No!" he chuckles when I ask him. "I just remembered how much you liked the music from the jazz night at the club, so I thought this would be fun." He still hasn't moved from his place beside me, and our arms keep brushing together. He hasn't held my hand since I returned from the bathroom, and I never realized how much I wanted him to. The heat between us is still there; we're both just a bit more cautious now.
"It is fun, thank you." I glance around the room, which is now filling up with customers. "This place is great."
The waitress returns, clearing our plates before leaving us alone again.
"Do you want some more wine?"
I shake my head and raise my half-full glass. "No, I'm fine with this, thanks." I refuse to get drunk. It's taking all I have right now not to jump him. Add alcohol to that mix, and I know I won't be able to resist him.
"Okay." He smiles. "Well, it looks as though the first band is about to start."
I grin. "Great."
We watch in a comfortable silence as a group of men come on stage and set their things up.
From the corner of my eye, I can see Edward watching me, and a few times I think he might say something, but instead, he just turns back toward the band. I know he wants more, and he's only moving at this slower pace because of me. Unable to voice how I feel just now, I take his hand in mine again, squeezing it softly.
I'm rewarded with a beaming smile.
.
.
.
.
The bands are amazing, but the loud music doesn't give us much chance to talk, which is the thing I was most looking forward to on this date. I want to be able to reconnect with him, to see that what we had is still there. Trust was the issue for us—the lack of it was what helped push us apart—and the only way we can contemplate getting back together is to make sure we fully trust each other.
When there's a small break in between sets, I grab my chance. I lean forward, loving how his body curves toward mine. "Edward, do you think we could go for a walk or something?"
His face falls. "You want to go? You're not having fun?"
"I am, of course I am," I explain quickly. "I just . . . we, ah . . . can't talk much here, so I was hoping we could go somewhere quieter?" My cheeks flame as I look anywhere but at him.
"Bella." He pauses until I look up at him. "I'd really like that."
We settle our tab and leave the bar before the next band starts. The bar is now packed, with customers getting as close to the band as they can. The hum of people celebrating the end of the working week pulses through the bar. If it were any other night, I'd enjoy staying, and maybe even having a dance with Edward. Tonight, though, I want to get to know him all over again.
The crush of bodies push Edward and me closer together, and he places his hand on my back, guiding me through the crowd. The heat of his hand burns through my top, and I bite back a whimper at the sensation. He strokes my lower back, his fingers taunting me in the most delicious way. As I walk, the bottom of my top creeps up, giving Edward the opportunity to stroke my bare skin, yet he never does. I don't know whether to be happy he's sticking by my going-slow rule, or turn around and mount him in front of everyone.
We make it outside, and I take Edward's hand in mine. He looks pleased, yet doesn't say anything.
"So, what now?" he asks.
I don't really feel like going to another bar or getting some coffee so I suggest a walk. We're about ten minutes away from the port; as it's a dry night, we head in that direction. I ask about Edward's car, but he says he'll come back tomorrow for it since he shared some of the wine.
We stroll at a leisurely rate, talking properly for the first time tonight. We briefly discuss work again, but soon the conversation turns in the direction of our relationship. I can't believe I'm the one who brings it up, but after the way things have gone tonight, I know I need Edward back in my life.
"Edward?"
"Hmm . . .?"
"Can I ask you something? About us?"
He leads us over to a bench and we sit down. "What about us?" He sounds scared, even though he has no reason to.
"The night you got the photos—"
"Bella—"
I hold my hands up. "Let me finish, please. The night you got the photos, it was so easy for you to believe I'd cheated on you." I keep on going, ignoring the look of pain that crosses his face. "I suppose I just want to know why? I mean, I thought we were strong, that we were moving past your history with Lauren—but then in one fell swoop, she pushed us apart." My voice is thick with unshed tears but I get it all out— the one thing that's been gnawing at me since that night.
He remains silent for a few minutes, but I don't rush him. I know whatever he needs to say won't be easy, and he'll need some time to pull himself together. Instead of focusing on him, I give him privacy and people watch. It's getting late, and the streets are busy with people dressed in their work clothes, moving from bar to bar. Some already seem a little worse for wear and are, most likely, on their way home.
"I didn't have enough trust in us."
I snap my head around so I'm now facing him. "What?"
"I . . . uh . . . I didn't trust in us."
"You—"
"Can I talk now, please?" He smiles softly. "It wasn't you I didn't trust; it was me."
I don't understand, but I let him continue.
"It was me. I didn't think I was good enough to keep you. I'd already lost Lauren, pushing her away because she thought I wasn't good enough. I just figured it was only a matter of time before I pushed you away as well."
"I'm nothing like Lauren, Edward!" I snap, horrified that he would even put me in the same category as her.
"God, no! I know you aren't. Don't you see? It's about me and how I dealt with it. You did nothing wrong." He cups my face, and I can't help but lean into his hands. "My issues pushed us apart, and that's something I've been working on."
A sob escapes me as he kisses my forehead softly, a gesture so familiar that it tears at my heart. "I'm not willing to let that happen again. You're it for me, Bella."
I sigh, letting his words wash over me. "I hope you mean that, Edward."
"I do," he whispers. "I really do."
We don't say anything else, but for now, we don't need to. I now know it wasn't me who pushed him away, but his own insecurities. The only thing that will get rid of that is time, and that's something I'm willing to give him.
As the temperature begins to drop and the wind picks up, we decide to call it a night. We flag a cab and take one home together, although I have no intention of taking things any further tonight. Our date has been good, and the heat between us is as clear as day, but I'm still hesitant to take it further. After Edward's declarations today, I think he realizes that he's not there yet, either.
The cab drops me off first, and as I get out, I'm not shocked to hear Edward following closely behind me. I can hear the engine of the cab still running, so at least I know there won't be an awkward exchange at my front door.
He remains behind me as I fiddle with the keys. Once it's unlocked, I push the door open but don't step inside. Instead, I turn to face him.
"Thank you for tonight, Edward. I really did have a good time." I'm not lying. Even through the tears, there was laughter, and I'd seen my Edward again. The one I knew when we started dating, before all the drama came into our lives. It reminded me of what we once had, and made me hopeful that we'll have it again one day.
He steps closer to me, that beautiful smile of his on his face. "I did, too. Thank you for agreeing to go out with me. I . . . uh . . . it didn't really go the way I planned, though."
I frown. "It didn't?"
"I wanted us to have a first date without anything from our past creeping up. I wanted to woo you, to show you how good we can be together." He shrugs.
I put my hand on his shoulder and step closer to him. "It was a great date, Edward. Don't doubt that. We have too much history to just forget."
He nods. "I know. I wouldn't change it for anything."
"Me either."
He glances down to my lips, and I wonder if he's going to kiss me. I want him to, but I don't. We're not ready to cross this line yet. He leans in, and I freak out.
Am I ready?
Should I let him kiss me?
I look at the man standing before me and decide that yes, I do want him to kiss me. What happened with Lauren is in the past, and if we ever want to move on from that, we have to forget about it.
He's here, trying to prove to me how much he loves me and wants me back. I have to let him try, at least.
I lick my lips and whimper when Edward releases a small groan. I can't hide the fact that I want him to kiss me. I've wanted him to since he showed up at my front door with a bouquet of flowers.
"Bella," he whispers as he leans closer to me.
I close my eyes and, seconds later, his soft lips are against mine. It's brief—a flash of a kiss—and I pout when it's over as soon as it started. He smiles softly when he sees my reaction, and quickly kisses me again. This time there's no hesitancy, and I respond in kind by wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him closer. With his body flush against mine, we make out at my front door like a pair of horny teenagers.
All too soon, Edward pulls away. My body craves more, but I reluctantly step out of his hold. As much as I may want it, anything more tonight would be a mistake.
"Goodnight, Bella," he whispers before turning and leaving me in a dazed mess on my doorstep.
"Goodnight," I whisper into the darkness.
I watch as the headlights of the cab fade into the night. I brush my fingers over my mouth, lightly touching where Edward's lips were only seconds before.
As I walk back into my apartment, the butterflies return to my stomach. Except, this time, they have nothing to do with nerves.
.
.
.
I know a lot of you were eager for their reunion. I can only hope I done it justice for you.
So after this there is one more chapter and then the Epilogue.
Thank you for reading! I would love to know your thoughts…
xox