Chapter 36 — The Nicest Word

Home is where one starts from.

T. S. Eliot

Bella's POV

My ears popped when the private jet started its slow descent. Home. Edward promised he would take me home, and he kept it. Last night, he was on the phone, making arrangement, the entire time I spent in the tub. Not once did his eyes stray to me, giving me the air of privacy while still remaining close. I smiled, remembering how he had run his hand through his hair and wishing it was mine. I wondered if he did that for the same reason I bit my lip.

"It's good to see you smiling," Edward said.

I turned my head, the smile falling from my face, and found him looking at me.

"And now it's gone." He frowned, taking hold of my hand. "You've been quiet the whole flight." He touched his forehead with his free hand, indicating the complete silence I had entered. "What's wrong?"

Edward had tried to get me to speak to him, mentally and verbally, several times during the trip, but I was wrapped up in my own misery. It wasn't because I had lost a friend, either. It was more of what I think I saw after Jacob fell over the edge.

"You're biting your lip. Now I know something's bothering you. Talk to me," he said, freeing my lip with his thumb.

I sighed. "Can a person in shock see things that they know are an impossibility?"

Edward closed his eyes, and his tongue came out, wetting his lower lip. "What do you think you saw?" he asked, his eyes connecting with mine when his opened again .

"My parents," I whispered.

I saw humor dance in his eyes. "They were really there, love."

Reeling back, I shook my head. "No, they're dead. They couldn't have been there."

He smiled. "Bella, they've been watching over you. And"—he cupped my face—"there are ways for them to take corporeal form," he whispered. "You, yourself, said the caves were protected by your ancestors."

The jet landing jostled us a little.

I scrunched up my face, confused. "It was nothing more than a story, Edward."

He tilted his head, looking at me. "No, love, it wasn't. Your parents were there, as were others."

I didn't want to believe him.

"Do you remember when you first sent Jacob sailing backward?"

I nodded.

"Two huge guys were some feet behind Jacob. Your magical blast pushed Jacob toward the men. They caught him, carrying him to the glass wall. In a way, they were assisting you," Edward said.

Shaking my head, I said, more in disbelief than anything else, "It's not possible."

Edward's POV

I chose not to comment further on the subject. Whether or not Bella believed what I told her, Renee and Charlie were in the chamber after the battle. "I don't know about you, but I need something to eat that hasn't been reheated in a microwave," I said after unbuckling and standing.

Bella turned and looked out the window. "Where are we?" she asked.

"SeaTac."

"Huh?" she said, turning.

I gave her a tight smile. "We're at the Seattle–Tacoma International Airport," I said, translating.

Her lip started to tremble. Had I said something wrong?

"I wanted to go home," she said in a small voice. "Not to Seattle."

I pursed my lips in a tight "O," thinking how best to explain. "Love, I am taking you to Forks," I said, letting her know I knew what she meant by home. "This is only a brief stop to eat something a little better than what's in the galley. You and I will then drive the rest of the way."

I wasn't particularly looking forward to the long drive, especially if Bella was as quiet as she had been right before the pilot started the descent to SeaTac. After speaking with Emmett last night, I knew he wanted to talk to Bella as soon as possible. Driving would delay that talk and would give me the chance to prepare her.

"Flying would be faster," she said, breaking into my thoughts.

I walked to her then knelt, brushing her hair from her face with my left hand, letting my touch linger, and noticing that there were dark circles under her eyes. A weary sigh left me. "Love, Emmett has some questions for you. I don't think you're ready to discuss what happened."

Bella closed her eyes. "Why does he need to talk to me? Interpol should be handling Jacob's death."

I was surprised she knew that. "Interpol is, but Emmett requested and got the go ahead to get the story of what transpired from you on their behalf. He thought you'd be more comfortable talking to a familiar face than someone you didn't know."

Tears were in the corners of her eyes when she opened them, and a small smile formed on her face. "That was sweet of him. And you're right. I'm not ready."

"Perhaps during lunch and then the drive we can discuss our wedding." The ensuing grin was brilliant, lighting up Bella's face and bringing her eyes back to life. I chastised myself for not thinking about our nuptials hours ago. My fingers brushed her cheek before my hand fell completely away. "That will only happen if we leave the plane, love."

"Right," she said, struggling to get to her feet.

Unable to help myself, I smiled, and it stretched ear to ear. "It might help if you release the restraint at your waist," I remarked.

Bella's eyes followed the direction my hand was pointing. "Yes, that would help."

As soon as she was standing, I gathered her into my arms. "Since we're still on the plane, and setting aside what you are unsure about seeing, how are you doing?"

With a hand on my chest, she tried to slip, wiggle, and push her way out of my arms, but I wouldn't let her go that easily. I was worried about her and needed an answer.

"I've already told you I'm not ready to talk about—"

I leaned in and captured her mouth in a tender yet brief kiss. "I'm asking about your wellbeing, not about what happened, Isabella. One word is all I'm asking for."

Our heads bowed together, cheeks touching, I felt Bella's harsh exhale of breath.

"Coping. I'm coping as best I can," she said softly. "You staying near last night helped."

Coping was good, but it really didn't tell me much. Not pressing Bella further, I released her before leading the way off the plane and to the waiting car.

"Mr. Cullen," the air hanger's attendant said, holding out a phone.

I raised an eyebrow.

"FBI Agent Emmett Cullen for you," he responded to the unspoken question.

My shoulders dropped. "This should only take a few minutes, love. Go ahead and get in," I said, accepting the phone. Lifting it to my ear, I watched as the attendant helped Bella into the passenger seat of my Rolls Royce Phantom Drophead Coupe. "Emmett?"

"So, you've landed? Forks Airport doesn't have record of any arrivals from Scotland," Emmett answered.

I groaned. "Did you not hear a word I said yesterday? I told you Bella and I would be routing through JFK and then continue to SeaTac."

"Where are you?" he asked.

"SeaTac. We'll be in Forks in five or six hours," I answered.

"You have a damn plane, bro. Use it."

I swiped a rough hand down my face. "My pilot can't book anymore hours today. Driving is the only option."

"Okay, then four to four and a half hours, not five to six. For having so much money, you don't know how to do math," he said, jokingly.

I laughed while shaking my head. "Em, don't ever change," I said. "We're going to get a bite to eat before setting out on the long drive."

"I figured that was one of the reasons, and I bet the other has to do with Bella not wanting to talk, right?"

"She's said as much," I answered, glancing over my shoulder. "And, to be honest, I don't think she'll ever be ready. Can't you go off what I told you?"

Emmett didn't answer right away. "I can, but I have to at least try to get the story from her."

Without another word, I ended the call and jogged to the car. Bella was quiet when I buckled in. "Emmett is adamant about talking with you," I said, throwing her a sideways glance as I started the car.

Another exaggerated exhale left him. "I don't want to talk about that with him. Doesn't he understand?"

I grimaced. Hopefully, by the time we got to Forks, Bella will be up to it. "He does and said he can use my statement." Again, I gave her a sideways glance and decided to change the topic. "I haven't had the chance to tell you, but Rosalie agreed to close the bar so we can marry there."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the smallest of smiles form on her lips. "What did you have to promise her?"

I laughed. That had been my fear, having to make some exorbitant promise to Rosalie in order to secure the bar for one night. "Surprisingly nothing. All she wanted was a reason why she should."

"Oh! What did you tell her?"

We were idling at a light, and I turned, leaning over the center console, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Only that I wanted to wed you where you stole my heart." Before turning my attention back to the road, I noticed that Bella's eyes were misty, but her smile told me she was okay.

It wasn't until we reached the ferry terminal to Bainbridge Island that Bella spoke. "I believe I fell in love with you that night, too," she said, placing her hand on my knee. "At times, it's hard to remember that we've only known each other for a short time, but I love that about us."

I shrugged and threw a smile at her. "Not that either of us care what others think."

Bella laughed. "True," she remarked before drawing her lower lip between her teeth. After a moment, she released it and went on. "There's one thing I hate to bring up, and I only do because of what society will think of us marrying."

I raised my eyebrows in question. "I take it I'm not going to like it."

"Oh, I know you're not going to like it, but if I don't ask, I won't know how you feel about it." Again, her lip disappeared into her mouth.

I looked out the car window; the ferry attendant was motioning me forward. After handing the fare over and parking the car, I turned, asking what was on her mind.

"Do you think we need to sign a prenuptial agreement?"

I reeled back as if she had slapped me. "Hell, Bella." I shook my head. Where in the world was this coming from? "No. We don't need one," I said firmly but not resolutely, leaving room for more discussion. "I know you're not some gold digger out to get my money. You were genuinely shocked when I introduced myself, and that alone told me you didn't know who I was."

"But I did know," she protested.

"By name, not face," I countered.

"Still, that's not a good enough reason not to consider one."

I ran a rough hand down my face, thinking. She hadn't yet told me her reason for asking. "Why do you think we need one?" I asked.

"You're wealthier than me, for a start. You own two businesses."

Three, actually, but I wasn't going to correct her on the point.

"But I think the most important reason is that everyone could be wrong about us, including us. There's a chance—"

I stopped her right there. "Isabella, love," I said, taking her hand. "Do you feel the tingle moving up your fingers, your arm?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever felt it before with anyone else?" I asked.

"No."

"Neither have I, nor do I think I'll feel it by taking hold someone else's hand. I don't think we're wrong, and if we ever fall out of love, I'd give you everything, Bella."

Her eyes were tearing up again.

"That's how sure I am that you are the one for me. I'd give up everything."

The tears spilled over when she blinked, and I lifted my hand, wiping them away with my thumb.

"We don't need a prenuptial," I whispered, leaning across the center console, kissing her.

~~ L.C. ~~

I pulled into the driveway of the Forks' house around six in the evening. Bella had fallen asleep, with magical help from me, before we had reached Lofall. She had tossed and turned last night, and as a result, didn't get much sleep.

Dad was sitting on the porch when I stopped in front of the house. My muscles protested when I got out of the car. I stretched before walking around to the passenger side.

"You're not going to wake her?" Dad called as he stood. He knew that I put her to sleep.

"No. I'll wake her in an hour," I replied, gathering Bella into my arms. "She needs the rest."

Bella's POV

I thought I had only recently closed my eyes, so when I opened them, I was confused as to why I was lying comfortably in bed. There was a soft click of someone typing nearby. Turning my head slightly to the left, I saw Edward, pencil between his lips, staring at the screen of his laptop. When had we gotten to Forks? I thought, thinking back to what I last remembered.

Edward and I had stopped at Restaurant Marche, grabbing a somewhat quick bite to eat. Before leaving the eatery, Edward passed me his wine glass, telling me to drink. Not much of the amber liquid had been left, and I downed it in three swallows. The bill was paid. Arriving at the car, Edward hugged me and whispered something—

The loveable jerk. He put me to sleep.

"Edward, you're in trouble," I said, rolling onto my side and propping myself up on my elbow with what I hoped was a playful smile. I felt better, more relaxed.

Edward turned to face me, folding his arms over his chest. "Are you trying to tell me that you didn't need the sleep? Because I would argue otherwise," he said with a smug grin spreading across his face.

I wasn't going to satisfy him with an answer, because we both knew the answer. "What did you put in the wine?" I asked instead.

He shook his head. "It wasn't wine, love. I asked the proprietor of the restaurant if it were possible to get some unfermented, but fresh, grape juice."

I gaped at him, not understanding.

"Grapes, and thus wine and fresh juices, have natural melatonin. And to answer your next question, melatonin is the hormone the body produces when it needs sleep," he said, leaning forward, resting his hands on his knees.

Comprehension dawned on me. Was that all Edward did, introduce the hormone into my system?

"No, Bella. I did more."

I looked up at him.

"What did you whisper?" I asked.

He laughed. "You don't remember, do you?"

I shook my head.

"'Dream of me while you sleep.' Extra emphasis on 'sleep.'" He shrugged. "It worked when you were sick, so I thought ..." he trailed off, lifting his hand.

"It would work on me again," I finished. Thrusting my lower lip forward, I pouted.

Edward's lips tugged into a crooked smile as he leaned forward. "Exactly," he murmured. He nipped at my lip.

I melted, no longer mad at him. The kiss was brief, too brief, but the effects lingered long after he pulled away.

"Does Emmett still want to talk with me?"

"Yes," Edward answered sitting back.

"Let's get it over with."