CHAPTER NINETEEN

Privacy sign on the door

And on my page and on the whole world

Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours

~ Taylor Swift, Paris

BPOV

"Do you want me to order one of every flavor?" Edward asked, his smile clear in his voice.

Were it any other situation, I would have laughed at the joke. Would have remembered that first date fondly and gotten a little distracted at the memory of that perfect kiss in the corner booth behind us.

As it was, I was currently twenty-five weeks pregnant and hopped up on hormones that left me in shambles most of the time. Our evening trip to Gio's was Edward's way of calming me down this morning after I burst into tears because my contacts were too uncomfortable to wear and I didn't want to spend the day pushing my glasses up my nose.

I was very food-motivated these days. And, like I was a small child throwing a tantrum, the promise of ice cream had me wiping my tears away as he pushed my glasses up my nose with a smile.

Except now that I was here staring at thirty-two different options I couldn't choose.

"No," I grumbled, eyes scanning over the flavors for the tenth time as if something new and perfect were going to jump out at me.

I shook my head, deciding on the first flavor my eyes landed on. "A scoop of strawberry, please," I told Gio, who had been patiently making small talk with Edward while I decided. "And chocolate."

By the time I was scooping the perfect bite of strawberry ice cream mixed with chocolate into my mouth my inner turmoil from two minutes ago was gone.

We sat side by side, in that same booth from our first official date. And I finally smiled at the memory of the thirty-two bowls covering the table.

"That was quite the waste of ice cream," I sighed, taking another bite of my own as my head fell to Edward's shoulder.

He pressed his lips to my hair. "I had to woo you somehow."

I scoffed into my next bite. I had been hopelessly in love with him long before he bought me thirty-two bowls of ice cream. "Woo'ing wasn't really necessary."

Edward smiled down at me, that crooked one that had those butterflies from so long ago incredibly happy. His face softened as he reached over and gently straightened my glasses on my face. "Feeling better?"

I nodded, eyes falling back to the bowl in my hand. "I think so. I don't really know how I feel half of the time. I'm sorry I'm a mess."

"You're pregnant. You're creating a tiny little human. If you want to cry because your contacts are bothering you or spend three minutes deciding on your ice cream you can."

I sighed, leaning back against his shoulder. He had an annoyingly comforting way of making everything I worried about seem inconsequential.

We walked hand in hand down the street after finishing our dessert. The mid-July heat had cooled off as the sun set behind us. There were a handful of people who did a double take as we walked by, most lingering on Edward as he gave them a polite smile or wave but kept us on our way.

My feet froze in front of a quaint little shop a block away from the car.

"Do you want to go in?" Edward asked quietly.

I nodded before I lost my nerve.

His hand squeezed mine firmly as he held the door open for me.

I wasn't sure what had been holding me back, exactly. I had tried to look for things online a few times, but always ended up quickly closing the tabs and anxiously twisting my fingers for a few minutes after.

Buried deep in the back of my mind were hundreds and hundreds of fears. All of the things that could go wrong, all of the scare-tactic articles I stupidly clicked on that listed out every rare complication or disease or accident that could happen when you were pregnant or giving birth. All of the unknowns that came with a newborn and all of the thousands of things that could go wrong at any time after they were born.

Somehow, my mind had decided that buying tiny little baby clothes or choosing the color for the nursery was too real. Too big of a step to take.

Edward hadn't said anything, always patently standing by my side as I handed him a dozen new paint samples. He knew, though. He always did.

So it didn't surprise me that as I stood in front of an adorable display of newborn onesies he kept a firm grip on my hand and waited patiently for me to be able to move.

"I just want her to be happy," I choked out eventually. "And safe. That's it."

"She will be," Edward said firmly. "I'll make sure of it."

The finality in his voice was impossible to ignore and sent a wave of calm throughout my entire body.

I nodded, flicked away a tear that had gotten past my eyelashes, and squeezed his hand. "Okay."

My free hand reached out and tentatively grabbed a soft, almost laughably tiny, forest green onesie off of the display. The tag read 0-3 Months but I still found it hard to believe anyone could actually fit inside of it.

I refused to put it back, though. Because it was nearly the color of Edward's eyes. Because it matched the emerald Esme had given me years ago that rested on my collarbone as I stood there. I kept it clutched in my hands as Edward and I wandered through the store, haphazardly grabbing anything that caught our eyes. He spent a solid twenty minutes sorting through a display of little rattles with various woodland creatures and flowers crocheted to them before he finally settled on one with a delicate little daisy attached. The smile on his face as he picked it out for our daughter melted away the lingering fear.

The price as we checked out didn't phase me, mostly because I was still clutching that tiny little onesie after reluctantly letting the woman scan the price.

I sat in the passenger seat as Edward loaded our bags into the trunk and watched the purple-pink sky as the sun set.

In the back of my mind I thought it would be nice if this would be it. The last time I let that lingering fear and anxiety from my own childhood dilute a single moment of my life now. It would have been beautifully symbolic, watching the sunset and letting it be the curtain closing on all of that shit.

I knew it wouldn't be. I had told myself I was 'over it' a hundred times before. But it wasn't something you got over. It would always be there, the fear and uncertainty and memories would linger my entire life.

Every sunset meant I survived another day, though. And every time I got a little lost in my own mind I had someone to pull me back out.

Right on cue, Edward got in his seat beside me, absentmindedly pressing his lips to my cheek.

I smiled over at him before my eyes drifted back to the sunset. "I know what I want to do to the nursery."

.M.

Edward didn't waste any time, getting all of his paint and supplies and enlisting Seth's help in painting the nursery. My idea wasn't a simple one, and while it would have cost anyone else a good chunk of change to have someone as talented as Seth simply painting their nursery, he showed up to the house this morning with a smile and more paint supplies than I knew would ever be needed for anything.

I had been exiled to Carlisle and Esme's for the afternoon. Partly to keep me from sneaking a peek at the nursery before it was done and partly to keep me from any lingering paint fumes. It didn't matter that they were using the safest possible paint out there or that I wouldn't have even been on the same floor that they were painting. Esme told me it was a coincidence they invited me to lunch this morning but I knew better.

I didn't mind it, though. Carlisle, Esme, and I had lunch together about once a month. Sometimes under the guise of a business meeting and others just because they showed up at my office and insisted on it.

"We might have had an ulterior motive for lunch," Esme admitted as she begrudgingly let me help her put the food away.

"Edward told you to get me out of the house because he was painting?" I asked, already knowing I was right.

"Well, two ulterior motives," Carlisle amended as he placed the dishes in the sink.

My head cocked to the side as I waited for an explanation. Esme simply grabbed my arm and led me up the stairs.

Their home was large, to put it lightly. Esme gave me a full tour once years ago and it took a good two hours to visit every room and feature. Even with the tour, I was still sure I would get lost if I wandered off too far.

So it wasn't surprising that as she came to a stop in front of a door I couldn't remember what exactly was inside. I knew the bedroom that she always had made up for Edward–and I–was just across the hall but I couldn't remember what was here.

"Edward told us you were having trouble deciding on how to decorate your nursery," Esme started softly. "And I didn't want to overwhelm you. But if there's anything in here you'd like changed, if you want the whole room different, we can do it."

My brows furrowed. Before I could connect the dots she opened the door to what was quite possibly the most aesthetically pleasing nursery I had ever seen. Every Pinterest board in existence would be seething with jealousy.

The walls were a neutral cream, maybe with a hint of a blushy pink tone. The accent wall on the left was covered in giant, adorable daisies. There was a crib centered on the accent wall with a cozy recliner in the corner. A changing station was across the room from the crib, probably stocked with things I had no idea how to use or when to use or what to do with.

"Everyone has a room here," Esme reminded me gently.

It was true. All of her kids and grandkids had their own rooms, designed however they wanted. Emmett and Rose even had a room that had slowly morphed into their own as the years went on.

I walked into the room slowly, my eyes catching on the book that was sitting in the center of the changing station. I walked over, my fingers brushing across a photo album that matched the ones she made for her family for every year until they turned eighteen.

"We've got an excellent woodworker who's done some amazing pieces for us," Esme went on. "Once she's here and we have a name I was thinking of getting a sign made for the accent wall. If you'd like. If you want to change anything–"

"It's perfect," I interrupted, clutching the album to my chest.

Maybe some women would have been offended, would have thought it was presumptuous for their mother-in-law to decorate an entire nursery for their child without so much as asking for any input first. They'd have every right to feel that way.

But I could barely decide how I wanted my own nursery done. We were still running the risk of me changing my mind at any moment as Edward and Seth worked diligently to paint.

And everyone knew. How hard things like that were for me. Where all of that uncertainty came from. Esme didn't create and decorate this nursery to stake some kind of claim on the baby or make some kind of power move.

She did it because it was her way of saying she was here, Carlisle, too, if I ever needed anything. If she ever needed anything. No matter what.

Because my parents sure as hell wouldn't be.

I set the photo album back down carefully, turning around and taking in the room again before my eyes settled back on Carlisle and Esme where they stood cautiously eying me from a few steps away.

I wasn't quite sure what to say. Thank you seemed remarkably insignificant for how much it meant to me.

They both took pity on me, giving me a pair of matching knowing nods.

I turned back toward the changing station, blinking back a fresh round of tears. "So, what do you put in these things?"

.M.

I wasn't allowed in the room for a solid three days, but I was allowed to look at the walls from the hall. Edward and Seth were working on the finishing touches by the time I got back from my afternoon spent with Carlisle and Esme. After taking the dogs on a quick walk with Masen they were all done.

I had been worried about changing my mind, thinking as soon as it was done and finished I would think of some other idea that I wouldn't be able to let go of. But as soon as Edward took his hands off of my eyes and wrapped his paint-covered arms around me from behind as I peeked into the room where our daughter would grow up, I knew it was perfect.

The accent wall was breathtaking; a perfect ombre mix that began as a beautiful deep purple and traveled up the wall transforming into a calming orange and yellow before ending at the top with a serene pale blue.

The perfect sunset.

The other three walls were a neutral, peachy orange.

It was only the first step. I had absolutely nothing else to put in the room, besides the few knick knacks Edward and I got at that little baby shop. I had a new list in my phone, though, thanks to Carlisle and Esme carefully outlining everything they recommended.

"It's perfect," I sighed happily, pressing a kiss to the forearm that was draped across my collarbone. "Thank you."

Edward pressed a kiss to the back of my head.

Seth appeared beside us, holding out a pale wooden frame and turning it toward me. "I also did this one for you. You could put it in your office or wherever. A nice little reminder," he said with a smile, holding out the perfect replica of the sunset.

"Thank you," I gasped again, holding my hands out for the frame. It had to have been a remarkably easy task for an artist as talented as him, but I loved it instantly.

.M.

"Marrying rich sure does have its perks…" I murmured, mostly to myself despite Edward's soft chuckle as he rose from his seat across from me.

We had just finished dinner at a small, local little restaurant down the street from our home for the week.

He hadn't given me many details leading up to our vacation. Months ago he told me to find a week this summer where I could get off work and he would work around me. Now, we were in Hawaii, on the beautiful island of Maui.

It was a surprisingly normal vacation spot for him to choose. Edward had a thing for extravagance. Close but still tropical, was what he told me when I asked how he chose Maui. Which I knew translated to It's only a five hour flight to your doctor should we need them.

Edward had been completely at ease throughout dinner. He was wearing a pair of Ray-Bans that had his eyes hidden from me but still had my brain flustered. He had the first few buttons of his pale blue linen shirt undone and looked every bit the part of the Sexiest Man Alive title he refused every year.

While I sat across from him, feeling very much the nearly twenty-seven weeks pregnant that I was.

I had never been an overly insecure person. I had bigger problems to cloud my brain most of the time. And while I loved the little dot currently bouncing around in my uterus, the whole pregnancy thing was getting to me. I felt like a whale; my face was getting puffier by the hour and I was counting down the days until I couldn't see my feet anymore.

So, sitting across from the Sexiest Man Alive was as much of a turn on as it was a blow to my own fragile self-esteem.

"I have one request for the week," Edward said, squeezing my hand as we made the short walk back to our cozy little house for the week.

"What's that?"

"It's just you and me."

My brows furrowed. "Well, I certainly didn't invite anyone else."

His lips twitched with a smile. "I just mean… in a matter of months our lives are going to revolve around a newborn. And I'm ecstatic about it, don't get me wrong. But this week… I just want it to be about you and me."

I blamed my hormones for my lack of filter as I blurted out, "Is it because the baby is making me look like a whale and it's only going to get worse?"

Edward froze in the yard of our rental. He pulled the sunglasses from his face and frowned down at me. He wasn't often speechless, but it took him a few breaths before he could gasp out, "What?"

"Look at me," I sighed dejectedly. "I'm giant. And it's only going to get worse. And maybe you liked me and my body better before and, I mean, who knows what it'll look like in two months or after–"

"Bella," he interrupted, his voice firm and final. "Stop."

I pressed my lips together with a sigh as he squeezed my hand and walked us into the house. It was all warm wood and comforting creams but the peaceful interior did nothing to sooth me.

"Of all the things to be worried about…" Edward sighed with a shake of his head. His hands were firm on my hips as he backed me up against the wall. "Your body might have changed, my love, but you have not."

My brows furrowed.

His hands slid up my waist, along whatever exposed skin he could find until his palm cupped my cheek and angled my face up toward his. "You're still the one I want to come home to every night," he said softly with a kiss to my cheek. "The one person in the world I can't seem to spend enough time with." He pressed a kiss to my opposite cheek before sliding over so his lips brushed against my ear as he said, "And if we're talking in a purely physical sense, you're still the sexiest goddamn thing I've ever seen."

My skepticism must have been written all over my face. I might have wanted him nearly non-stop the last few months thanks to my hormones, but it had been a nagging thought in the back of my mind that he would get sick of me.

He grabbed my hand and pressed it against the hardness in his jeans. "Being pregnant doesn't change how good you look with your lips wrapped around my cock or how fucking good your pussy feels when you come on it."

My throat went dry and before I could try to think of a response his lips crashed down to mine. I stumbled backwards through the house until the back of my legs hit the edge of the bed.

He carefully settled me in the center, his body immediately covering mine though he was careful to keep most of his weight off of me.

I gasped in a few quick breaths as he pulled his lips from mine, brushing them against my earlobe again.

"I didn't say I wanted some alone time before the baby for any reason other than wanting to enjoy a week just you and me before she gets here," he said quietly, though his voice was gruff. "I love you. Nothing changes that, Bella."

I pulled him back down to me by the soft hairs at the base of his neck, swallowing the deep moan from the back of his throat.

His fingers slid underneath the hem of the simple cotton dress I wore, thumb pressing into my clit before his fingers pushed my panties to the side.

He broke away from the kiss, both of us out of breath as he brushed his lips against the curve of my neck. His teeth sank into my skin in perfect synchronization with his fingers hitting the spot inside of me that had my toes curling.

As if to make his point even more, he pressed himself firmly against my thigh, his cock hard and prominent.

"There hasn't been a single fucking day since I met you that I haven't wanted you," he grunted, pressing himself harder against my thigh.

I tore at his shirt, too impatient to waste time with the buttons before my hands squeezed between us to work on his jeans. He refused to move an inch, though.

"Tell me you know it," he breathed out against my neck.

"I know it," I whispered. Only daring a peek up at him when he didn't respond. "I know it," I said, stronger this time.

He pulled away with enough space for me to undo the button on his jeans. His fingers begrudgingly left me as he tossed his shirt to the side and impatiently broke the zipper on the side of my dress before pulling it over my head.

All remaining scraps of clothing were tossed aside as he grabbed my thighs and pulled me closer. Lined himself up and entered me in a sinfully slow thrust. His palms slid up and down my thighs, his eyes never leaving my body.

"So fucking good," he grunted, the sound of his voice making an involuntarily whimper get stuck in the back of my throat.

He knew when I was close, grabbing my hips and never stopping until I gasped out my release.

A/N: hope you all enjoyed this one - I'll see you next time!