A/N: God, my updates are so random. But you guys love it, don't you? Ugh, I just went back to school today after winter break. Sadface. So, I won't be online a lot now, and my updates will probably be less frequent because I will be studying my ass off. Now I'm gonna go mope. Enjoy your mother effin' chapter =[ (KIDDING! I LOVE YOU!)

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The humid midnight air washed in through the open window of Edward's silver Volvo—sleek, mysterious and panther-like as it whipped nearly silently along the empty highway.

I propped my bare feet on the dashboard, bumping the back of my head against the seat, listening to the soothing jazz number playing on the radio. Edward was silent beside me as he focused on the road.

I reached toward my foot with one hand to pick at the glittery gold polish, chipping only after twelve hours of wear. The silver band of the ring glinted in the white wash of the moonlight filtering in on us.

The road lit up before us and the glare only got brighter as another car approached us. It zipped by and then we were alone again.

I yawned widely, slapping my palm over my mouth to try to hide it. But it was a hard feat. I'd been up since seven A.M. the night before and it was now four o' clock in the morning.

"Tired?" Edward's voice was husky and slightly scratchy after so little use during the drive.

I'd changed into something a little more comfortable after the reception and then we had started on our way to Banff for our honeymoon.

"A little," I admitted, my voice meagre on its own accord. Speaking loudly after so many hours of quiet seemed wrong.

"You should sleep," he told me, reaching over to stroke my cheek with the back of his hand.

I sighed, shuddering convulsively as goose bumps manifested my skin—again, in a good way. "Maybe," I contemplated, biting back another yawn. I rested my head against the window frame, the wind cool against my cheeks, but sat upright again when I felt my bag vibrate at my feet. I reached down to retrieve my phone.

ALICE: Yo, yo, yo homie gee. Sup in da cribbb?

I sighed, smiling a little and bowed my head to type my reply.

BELLA: shouldn't u b sleeping?

ALICE: too much caffeine. Opted 4 it instedd of champagne.

I shook my head from side to side, smiling in spite of Alice. Always the one thinking she was doing the better thing and then, instead, her plans backfiring at her.

I was about to answer her, but my phone suddenly died. I tossed it back in my bag.

"Who was that?" Edward wanted to know from the driver's seat.

"Alice," I told him, returning to my former position, this time curling my knees to my chest.

I saw him nod out of my peripheral vision. "What'd she want?"

"To know what was up in da crib." I replied, giggling a bit to myself.

Edward began to smile, but then the car jerked violently. It was only for an instant and then was smoothly traveling again.

"What was that?" I asked.

Edward shrugged, clearly confused himself. "I don't know," he said and then cursed.

"What?"

"We're almost out of gas."

"Seriously?" I demanded, "But we only got gas, like…" I trailed off, forgetting how long ago we'd actually filled up.

"We haven't had any gas since we left. We haven't filled up while we were on the road. I did that before, and only had half a tank. I forgot to fill up again…"

"Oh no," I groaned. "The car's gonna fail on the side of the road and then we're both gonna die," I predicted morosely.

Edward laughed. "I highly doubt that will happen, love," he contradicted.

I opened my mouth to talk, but was cut off when I jerked in my seat. A pitiful squeak exited my throat. "We're gonna die," I hissed, and I guessed he wouldn't hear me over the wind whistling in through the windows.

He shot me a sideways glance, proving my thoughts wrong. "Bella, please, stop being so melodramatic."

"I can't help myself!" I insisted, staring at him, "This car is going to die, and then we'll be stuck on the side of the road, forced to huddle in the back for warmth, and no help will come, and then we won't have any food so we'll, like, starve to death. And then a freak storm will come, and we'll have forgotten to close the windows, so our car will flood and somehow will be tipped off balance, topple off the bridge into the ocean. Our bodies will be washed out to sea, and the search and rescue dudes will never find us, and we will forever be doomed to the black depths of—"

"Whoa!" he cried in an attempt to slow things down. "That will not happen. The worst that will happen is that we run out of gas before we reach another gas station." But even as he said the words, the car began to coast—slower and slower until we rested in a complete stand-still, right smack in the center of the highway.

After many failed attempts to restart the car, Edward glanced sheepishly toward me. I twisted my body so I was facing him, folding my arms across my chest and cocked one eyebrow at him.

"What were you saying, now?"

Edward grinned sheepishly, and then turned to get out the car. I followed suit, wrapping my arms around myself.

Silently, he moved around to the front of the car and lifted the hood, emanating a cloud of smoke into the night air like a backfiring engine at a racetrack.

I coughed, waving the air. "Oh, great," I said rolling my eyes, "this is just perfect. We're not even on our honeymoon yet and the problems are starting. Something always has to go wrong, right?"

Edward shot me a patronizing grin. "Why don't you call a tow truck?"

"I can't," I replied, "my phone died."

He frowned, and then bent to further examine the engine of the car. "Um, I think it's pretty much toast."

"No!" I said sarcastically.

He turned back to me, irking his eyebrow. "What do you suggest we do?"

"I don't know," I said, shrugging. "I thought you were the expert on cars…"

Edward sighed, raking his fingers through his already messy hair. He slumped against the car, kicking at the pavement.

I walked a few feet up the road, peering into the black for any signs of civilization. I caught site of lights awhile off. It wouldn't be too far to walk. I voiced my suggestions to Edward. After we were able to shove the car onto the shoulder of the highway, we retrieved our bags from the trunk and began our trek toward the light.

The light turned out to be a hotel.

It always surprised me how lively hotels were, even though it was three in the morning. There were at least three people behind the desk, and there was a young couple making out in one of those chairs you see in the middle of the mall, but are more like a couch because they're so big.

"Can I help you?" a woman who seemed to be thirty-something asked from the end of the counter. Her frizzy red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but the baby hairs on the front of her hairline stuck up around her face.

Edward ventured toward the women, dropping the bags by his feet. "Yeah. Our car," he gestured toward the plate-glass doors with his thumb, "broke down a few miles down. Are there any available rooms?"

The woman's eyes flickered to my face and then back to Edward's. "Um, yes, I think so. I'll just make sure," she told us, turning her attention to the computer for a moment. Then she looked back up. "Can I have your name?"

"Edward Cullen," he explained.

After he'd filled out all of the standard information, the woman handed us a pamphlet which held two room key cards, threw us a fleeting smile, and then turned back to the other people manning the sign in.

Edward and I found the elevators, and then stepped inside. The golden doors slid shut, and I saw a reflection of myself in the doors. My hair was wild, having escaped its ponytail, and my cheeks were flushed in exertion from the long trek. A trace of lip gloss was left behind on my lips, but I didn't make a move to reapply it.

I set my suitcase on the floor, slumping against the mirrored wall of the elevator, smoothing my hair back with my hands.

Moments later, the elevator dinged, announcing our arrival to the fourth floor. Edward and I made our way down the hallway, and he slid the card into the lock, pulling it out. It flashed red, which meant it didn't work. He repeated the process three more times before I laughed.

"Here," I said, laying my hand on his, "let me do it."

"No, I got it," he assured me, sliding the key in again.

"Okay," I said, stepping back.

He pulled it out again, but it only flashed red. He sighed in frustration.

I laughed. "Edward, come on. I'll do it."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!"

"Yes!" I hip checked him out of the way, plucking the card from his finger tips in the same instant.

"Hey!" he cried out in protest. "Give that back!" he dove toward me, and I couldn't hold back the unnecessary—not to mention, loud—screech.

"NO!" I cried, whipping the key out of reach. "I can do it!"

"I said that, and you stole it from me!"

"It's our hotel room!" I laughed, dodging out of the loop his arms tried to make around my waist.

"So? People are gonna think I'm incapable!"

"I'm the only one here!"

The clearing of a throat down the hall made it suddenly clear that I was, in fact, not the only person there. Our heads snapped toward the sound in the same instant, my hand—and the card still grasped—dropping to my side.

"Do you think you could quiet it down?" a rugged man gruffly asked. He wore a pair of dark blue plaid pajama bottoms, and a baby fussed in his arms. He glared at us, paying no mind to the child in his arms.

A blond woman squeezed between him and the doorjamb to take the baby from him. She cradled it to her chest, shushing soothingly in its ear.

"We're sorry," Edward apologized.

"Yeah," the man snapped as his obvious wife scooted back into the hotel room with the baby, "my family and I are trying to get some sleep here. Do you mind keeping it down?"

"We'll be quiet, sir. Sorry," Edward muttered, obviously chagrined.

I turned toward the door awkwardly, unlocked the door and propped it open. I managed to drag in our entire suitcase and sit on the bed before the door clicked shut behind Edward.

When I looked up, he had such an expression on his face that it made my heart leap.

"What?" I questioned, abruptly feeling suddenly ridiculously exposed and self-conscious.

He shook his head, as if to get rid of the silly grin on his lips. "Nothing, nothing," he said, turning to examine the rest of the room.

I rose from the golden duvet, tugging and smoothing out all of the creases.

When I turned to face Edward again, he was walking toward me. He slid his arms around my waist, and I looped mine around his neck.

"Not the wedding night you'd expect, huh?" he asked, leaning down to press his lips to my jaw.

"Nope," I replied, turning us slightly. Abruptly, I shoved on his chest, causing him to fall back onto the bed. I went with him, and grinned innocently into his face. "Oops, did I accidentally tackle you onto the bed?"

He just grinned widely in response.

The scream of the hair dryer was loud, but the basketball game on the TV could still be clearly heard from the bathroom.

Once my hair was dry, I flicked the dryer off, set it on the bathroom counter, and peered at my face in the mirror. My hair was slightly wild from the hot air, so I smoothed it out. After applying a trace of lip stain and a brushing of mascara, I smoothed out the black dress I wore and spun to head out of the bathroom.

"Edward?" I asked from the doorway.

He was perched on the edge of the humungous, king-sized bed, staring intently at the television screen.

"Edward?" I asked again, a bit louder.

His eyes flickered to my face, then back to the screen. "Yeah?"

"Aren't you gonna get ready?" I questioned, planting a hand on my hip. I took a furtive glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table. "We have reservations for seven o clock."

"I know," he said, his fists clenching, riveted on the game, "I made them, remember?"

"Well, are you going like that?" I asked, flinging a hand toward his topless form. He wore a pair of pajama pants and his hair was without a doubt untameable without a shower.

"Oh, COME ON!" he screamed at the screen. "That was SO not a foul ball! What are you TALKING about?!"

I huffed angrily. "We have twenty minutes before our table is given up."

"Let's just…" he trailed off, becoming too involved in the game again.

"Hmm?"

"Let's just get room service," he requested, eyes still trained on the screen.

I stepped in front of the TV. "Could you look at me for a minute?" I questioned impatiently.

His eyes scorched into my face, slightly chafed.

I lost the words I'd been about to say, my tongue flattening against the roof of my mouth.

"If you're not gonna say anything, get out of the way, please."

I gritted my teeth, but didn't move.

"Why are you so angry?"

"You're just gonna waste our reservations, aren't you?" I demanded, glancing at the clock again. We had ten minutes now.

Edward sighed, rubbing his face vigorously with his palms. I could tell he was frustrated. "Bella…" he trailed off, the words lost in the stale air between us.

"Edward…" I replied in the same tone he had.

He exhaled heavily through his nose and peered up at me again. "If you're going to get so ridiculously worked up about this, I can't even imagine how bad the rest of our marriage is gonna be."

Without being able to control myself, my jaw dropped open and my eyebrows knit over my eyes. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" My arms were now folded defensively across my chest.

"Never mind." Edward snapped, looking to my feet.

"No." I barked. "Tell me."

"It's fine, Bella."

"Ugh!" I cried, flinging my hands into the air. Then I made my way to the hotel door. "Fine," I said as I slipped my feet into my shoes, "if you're not going to be ready in five minutes, I'm going to the restaurant alone. Good bye." I slammed the door behind me before he could say anything.

---

When I arrived at the restaurant, there was so large a line that it backed out all the way to the parking lot. I shoved through the tittering crowds of people, ignoring the angry glares shot my way.

When I reached the front desk, the blond woman looked up at me as if she were peering over a pair of sunglasses from the table plan, red Expo marker still in hand. "Miss, there's a line," she said politely.

"I have reservations. Cullen?" I tried to make my voice sound pleasant, but she obviously sensed the rough, angry undertone to it. I just wanted to be led to an excluded place, and eat my food—salty with my own tears—in silence.

She quickly flipped through a black binder and then straightened up, and looked into my face with genuine concern. "Of course. Right this way," she requested, pulling a red, velvet menu from the shelf behind her, and turned on her heel. She led me through the hustle and bustle of the restaurant and stood aside when we reached a table in the corner of the room. A warm orange light cast a soft glow over the table.

I slid silently into the booth and she placed the menu in front of me. "Thank you," I muttered.

"Um, excuse me?" she said awkwardly.

I looked up.

She glanced over her shoulder, and then back at my face. "You look troubled. I know, I shouldn't be prying, but is everything alright?"

I offered a meek smile. "Um, actually, no," I told her truthfully.

"Oh," her eyebrows knit over her eyes. "My breaks in," she paused to take a look at her silver bangle watch "three minutes. Wanna talk about it?" She slid into the booth across from me without permission, but I didn't mind.

I sighed, knotting my fingers together in my lap. The velvet dress I wore was suddenly suffocating my skin. "I got married a few days ago." I hesitated, and when the woman didn't reply, I looked up into her face. She was staring at me intently. "And I guess we just had a stupid fight, I mean, I shouldn't be so down about it. It's just, we got married, like, three days ago, and we're already fighting, and over something stupid. He said I'm overreacting, and maybe I am. But I don't like being ignored and he was ignoring me, so I got mad, and then he got mad, so I left without him." I said all of this without taking a breath, and I sucked in air greedily as the woman replied.

"Well, I don't know much about marriage, and love, because I've been divorced, but I can tell you that love is the most selfless thing that I've come to know. You need to make sacrifices, and you need to respect your partner's decisions too. I know it may be hard to do in the beginning. Believe me, it was hard for me, and that's why we're divorced. It's not just your life anymore, y'know?"

I nodded to let her know that I did.

"Besides, you two are lucky. Your marriage is fresh. Your fights won't last long. I could bet you anything that he'll show up here within the hour." She smiled and stood, smoothing out her spotless black apron. "In the meantime, can I get you a drink?"

"Um, a Corona, please."

"Sure." She said, jotting it down on a notepad she pulled out of her apron. Then she waltzed away, and I unzipped my purse to pull out my cell phone. There was nothing new, so I shoved it back in my purse, and rested my elbows on the table.

A waitress came to my table a few moments later, a glass in one hand, and the beer in the other. She smiled at me softly when she reached the table, and I saw the dimples appear in her freckled cheeks.

"Hi, I'm Jessie," the redhead informed me as she set both on the table, "And I'll be serving you this evening. Have you had time to look at your menu?" she questioned, pale blue eyes flickering to the closed velvet menu by my left elbow.

"Oh," I said, realizing I hadn't. "No, I haven't. But I'm actually not very hungry right now. I think the beer's good for now."

"Okay," Jessie said smiling. "I'll come back if you change your mind, alright?"

I nodded, and lifted the glass to my lips.

---

I'd consumed three beers and was almost finished my fourth before Edward finally showed up. He wore a pair of dark wash jeans, and a black dress shirt which was precariously tucked in. He'd attempted to tame his hair with gel, and it had only half worked. He caught site of me and lumbered over to the table.

With no warning, I starting giggling, and then hiccupping. And then giggling and hiccupping at the same time.

He slid into the seat across from me, contemplating my flushed face worriedly. His eyes flickered to the cluster of empty bottles beside me, and then the empty glass, and then back to my face. Hesitantly, he reached a hand out to take the neck of the bottle in front of me.

I found this oddly funny and started laughing again.

He shook it surreptitiously, and eyed me in contempt. "Bella," he seemed to chide.
I hiccupped and pressed my fingers to my lips. "Yes?" I replied, batting my lashes.

"You're drunk."

With no control over my body, I doubled over on myself, laughing hysterically. "I am not!" I cried defensively, and Edward glanced furtively around the room at the rising volume of my voice.

"Bella, shush!" he hissed, clearly chagrined.

I forced my lips to seal, and stared into his face. The laughter was pressing behind my lips, forcing its way out and I started up again.

Edward rolled his eyes, and got up from the table.

"Where are you going?" I demanded, swallowing another gulp of the beer. It went down wrong, and I began to cough violently.

He tugged me out of the seat by my arm, patting me softly on the back as we weaved through the crowds. When we got outside, I started laughing again as soon as the coughing wore off.

I wrapped my arms around his waist, and was able to slur out an, "I love you."

"Ucgh," he said, recoiling away from me. "Your breath stinks, Bella."

I frowned, then breathed into my hand, sniffing. "I don't smell bad."

Edward cocked an eyebrow. "Did you know that people can't actually smell their breath when they do that? It's just a myth."

I slumped against the outside wall of the restaurant, suddenly not feeling so well. I clutched my stomach and tried to breathe in deeply, hoping it might start raining so it would cool me off.

"Let's go back to the hotel," Edward requested, touching my elbow.

I shrugged him off, groaning.

"What?"

I shook my head, swallowing hard. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to force back the tidal wave of nausea.

"You're gonna puke, aren't you?" Edward guessed. "See? I told you you're drunk. You shouldn't have—"

When I bent at the waist abruptly, retching, Edward stopped talking at once.

---

I didn't remember how I ended up tangled in the cool sheets of the hotel room. I sat up, groggily rubbing at my eyes and glanced at the alarm clock on the beside table. It was nearly two AM. Basking in the light of the moonlight able to make its way through the slit of the curtains, I saw my three inch heels lounging on the carpet at the foot of the bed. Surely I would have remembered walking back to the hotel from the restaurant in those. I still wore my dress, and I climbed out of bed to change into my pajamas.

Where my suitcase was supposed to be on the chair, Edward was softly snoring, head crooked back, lips slightly parted, thin blanket tangled awkwardly around his left leg and right arm.

I squatted down next to him to rummage through my suitcase. Once I found a suitable pair of pajamas, I changed, and then went into the washroom to brush my teeth. My mouth tasted horrible.

When I saw myself in the mirror, I winced. I decided to wash my face, and then tugged the brush through my damp, tangled hair.

When I emerged back into the hotel room, Edward was stirring in the chair. I flicked the bathroom light off before he opened his eyes and leaned against the wall.

"You're neck is going to kill in the morning," I informed him, to let him know I was awake, and that the silhouette standing by the bathroom door wasn't a murderer, but in fact, his wife.

He groaned. "It already does," he muttered. "How do you feel?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Tired."

I could make out the nod of his head in the darkness. "No headache?"

"Nope."

"No nausea?"

"None."

"Hmm. Good. So there's no chance you're going to throw up on my shoes again?"

I inevitably flushed. "I did that?" I questioned meekly.

Surprisingly, I heard him chuckle. "Yeah, you did."

"Gross," I said, crinkling my nose.

"You bet."

"I'm sorry."

He sighed, realizing now that I wasn't talking about throwing up on him anymore. "I know," he said, "I am too. I shouldn't have said that thing about marriage…"

I inched over to him to sit on the arm of the chair. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into his lap. I nestled my face against his shoulder, closing my eyes. His hands ran soothingly up and down my back, and I shivered.

Somehow, he was able to drape the thin blanket back over us, and I was already too far under to acknowledge that we were falling asleep in the cramped chair.

END A/N: Reviews are better than puking on Edward's shoes.