This one is super long because you guys gave such great guesses, ha! I had some very plausible ones (Edward lost his phone), some that stretched it just a little (Edward was in an accident), some that stretched it a lot (Tanya came back), and some that were just plain ridiculous-yet-hilarious (Edward hit his head and is experiencing amnesia). But no one really guessed what happened! But guess what...you're about to find out! All 5,555 words of it!

Chapter Eighteen: "Three Little Words" Bella's POV

I knew I was desperate, but the next morning I woke up before Emerson just to sit at the kitchen table, eat my rum-filled chocolates, and stare at the phone. "Come on, Edward Anthony Cullen," I muttered at my dormant phone. "That's right: I just used your full name. If you don't call me by noon, I'm marching over to your apartment. I deserve better than this."

But you don't deserve better than him. You don't even deserve him.

I shook the thoughts off. My self-esteem was definitely taking a hit, that was true, but I couldn't let it get to me. I still had a son to take care of. I couldn't just don my fuzzy pajamas and watch the Lifetime channel with a box of Kleenex.

Even though that sounded like a really good plan.

Emerson woke up by nine, so I made him pancakes and bacon. He was content to play his Nintendo DSi all day, and for once, I was content to allow it. By ten, I had the kitchen cleaned up and a load of clothes making the rounds in the laundry.

I was so bored. My phone hadn't sounded once.

Finally, as my clock moved to twelve PM, I decided I was going to keep my promise to myself and go to his apartment. But I didn't want to have a confrontation in front of Emerson, so I called Rosalie and asked her to keep him. She was thrilled to have company because Emmett was with his family in Tennessee and her parents' usual New Year's Eve soiree was cancelled because her mother had the flu. She gave me a funny look when I dropped him off, but I whispered to her that I would explain later. Even though she had probably already figured out that there was "trouble in paradise."

My mouth was dry as I drove to Edward's apartment. What was I supposed to do if we were over? The idea hurt more than I thought it would. I was wondering what I was getting myself into. I hadn't fallen for anyone like this before. I didn't even cry over Jacob Black—just over the fact that I was going to be a teenage mother. And now I was an adult, carrying around a box of tissues.

His silver Volvo was parked outside, so he wasn't busy with the family. I locked my car and marched to the door.

What are you going to say? "I demand to know why you're ignoring me"? How very high school of you.

I sighed and shook it off before ringing his doorbell.

There was silence for a few seconds, and then I heard footsteps coming to the door. It unlocked, and then finally opened.

Alice stood there with wide eyes. "Oh, hi, Bella! Does Edward know you're here?"

I gave her a funny look. "I haven't heard from Edward in a really long time."

She raised a perfectly waxed eyebrow. "You don't know?"

"I don't know what?" I asked, totally confused.

She bit her lip. "Come in, it's freezing."

My stomach suddenly hurt. Oh my god. He's been in an accident. Emmy was in an accident. She had a really bad asthma attack...

As we walked to the kitchen, she suddenly stopped. "Oh, wait! Damn it! I was supposed to call you. You see, he hasn't been able to pay his phone bill...oh my god. It totally slipped my mind. Bella, I'm so sorry..."

I was so confused. "Where is he? What is going on?"

She winced. "Come here."

She took my hand and led me down the hall to his closed bedroom door. She knocked once before entering.

Edward was in bed, in his pajamas, pale and sweaty. His facial hair told me he hadn't been out of bed in days. I tried not to shiver as I saw that he was sick. Very sick.

"Edward," Alice said happily. "I have a surprise!"

He winced before turning to us. "What, Ali?" he mumbled faintly before his eyes lit up. "Oh...hey, sweetie."

"I'll leave you two alone," she winked at me before leaving and closing the door behind her.

I immediately ran to his bedside and crouched down to take his hand. "Edward, what the heck is wrong with you?"

"Kidney stone," he mumbled, closing his eyes and cringing again. "I started having pains on Christmas night...went to the ER...I have yet to pass it."

"Oh my god," I said. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"AT&T cut off my phone," he said. "I couldn't pay the bill in time. I told Alice to call you..."

"She apparently forgot," I filled in. "I thought you were mad at me or something."

He opened those beautiful eyes and gave me the most incredulous expression. "How could I ever be mad at you, love?" He weakly put a hand to my hair.

Love. I had only heard him call Emmy that. It sent magical, delicious chills down my spine.

I smiled at him before kissing his hand. "Where does it hurt?"

"Right in the left kidney," he replied. "And my back...and other places you don't want to hear about."

I kissed his stubbly chin. "I'm sorry, baby. Can I make it better?"

He gave me an amused look. "I'll go ahead and warn you: I'm either in the bathroom or throwing up a lot, I'm usually on pretty powerful painkillers, and I'm so much fun that even Emmy
begged my mom to take her to her house."

"Are you trying to scare me away?" I teased him.

He shook his head. "Definitely not. I just don't want you to have a boring New Year's Eve. Emmy and I actually planned a party for you and Emerson involving homemade Mexican cuisine
and Junior Trivial Pursuit..."

"Is Emmy at your parents' for the night?" I asked him.

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Just a second," I told him, giving him a quick kiss and dashing out of the bed. I ran to the kitchen and dialed Rose's number.

"Is it over?" she asked immediately. Of course she had already guessed the entire situation.

"No, he has kidney stones," I explained. "He's really sick."

"Thank God!" she exclaimed. "Yes, I will keep Emerson for the night so you can play Clara Barton. I'll go to your apartment and pack him an overnight bag."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I exclaimed. "I love you, Rose. I'm going to make you a huge chocolate cheesecake."

She laughed. "I told you that it's fine. Have fun with your patient."

After I hung up, I went to Alice, who was in the living room watching a talk show. "Hey, Alice?"

"Yeah?"

I smiled at her. "Go enjoy New Year's with Jasper. I'm going to stay with Edward."

"Oh, Bella, you don't have-"

I shook my head. "Emerson is staying with his aunt. I don't have plans, and I would like a midnight kiss from your brother, if he's awake."

She gave me a grin and a wink. "Gotcha. Well, thank you. You don't know how much this means to me." She stood up and gave me a big hug. "If he starts acting like a prick-ish invalid, kick
him in the kidney. Preferably the left one."

I laughed. "Okay, I will. Have fun."

I had a feeling she had been sitting with him for a while, because she gave my cheek a quick kiss and sprinted to the door.

Finally, alone.

I went back to his bedroom, surprised to find that the bed was empty. He was probably in the bathroom. I kicked my shoes off and took my sweatshirt off to reveal my tank top underneath. It was quite warm in the apartment. I was grateful I had worn loose yoga pants instead of jeans. They felt like pajamas, so I could be comfortable if I just decided to lay with him.

I heard him make some kind of pained noise from the bathroom. I went and knocked on the door. "Honey, are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I'm just...give me a minute."

"Okay."

I went to the kitchen and rummaged through the cabinets. Luckily, he still had some peppermint tea left. Knowing that tea was a natural painkiller and peppermint calmed the stomach, I made him a cup. I returned to the bed and sat cross-legged with his tea as I waited for him to come back.

Finally, he did. He wore a white t-shirt and plaid flannel pajama pants. He looked pale and uncomfortable.

"Come here," I told him, helping him into the bed. He smiled as I gently pressed the teacup to his lips and tilted it, letting him have a taste.

"So good," he said after one long drink.

"Can I get you anything?" I asked him.

"Snuggle?" he asked softly.

"Of course. I am your nurse, after all." I put the tea on the bedside table and cuddled into his side, kissing his shoulder gently.

"I missed you," he said, kissing my forehead. "You and Emerson both. Did he have a good Christmas?"

My fingers went to his stomach and lightly rubbed it. "Yeah, it was great. I was able to buy him the bicycle of his dreams, and my dad spent way too much money on both of us. What about Emmy?"

A dreamy smile crossed his face, even though his eyes were closed. "I gave her one of those American Girl dolls that you can personalize to look like you. And I got her a matching dress set for her and the doll. And well, Emmy's grandpa spent way too much money on her, too. Bella, don't take this the wrong way, but I love the way you're touching me."

I was massaging his hips. "Well, I love your hips, so I'm enjoying it, too." I dropped a kiss on his neck.

He suddenly winced before sitting up. "Son of a nutcracker!"

"What did I do?" I asked him in panic.

"Not you," he gasped, wrapping his arms around his waist. "The goddamned kidney stone..."

I had never heard him curse before, so I knew he was in pain. I rubbed the back of his neck and kissed his shoulders.

Finally, he let out a little whimper and fell against the pillows.

"Where are your painkillers?" I asked him.

He shook his head. "No. They put me straight to sleep."

"Baby, you can take a nap. I'm going to spend the night with you and if you want to watch the ball drop, you need to sleep."

He flashed me a pained little smile. "Really? You're staying?"

I nodded. "Yep. Alice left, and Emerson is with Rose, so you can't kick me out. And if you..." I kissed his lips. "Take a nap now..." Another kiss. "I can make a big dinner..." Another peck. "And we can have a party later."

He rolled his eyes. "You sound like me when I would have to try to convince Emmy to take naps. And that's a good idea, but you can also stay here and kiss away the pain."

"Edward," I murmured against his lips. "You're in pain. You're gripping your sheets. Take some of your medication and I promise, there can be lots of kissing later."

He pouted his lip. "Yes, Mother..."

"Hey, I've been called a MILF before."

"Really?" he asked.

I snorted. "No."

"Can I call you a MILF?" His eyes were bright with playfulness.

"Only if you take your pain pills."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, fine." He reached to the bedside table and a bottle out of the drawer. I gave him another drink of tea to wash the medicine down with, and settled into the bed with him. I could at least hold him until he fell asleep.

"Bella?" he mumbled a few minutes later, pupils dilated as he tried to fight sleep.

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"You're wearing a blue...shirt...thing."

I snorted. "Yeah, what about it?"

A goofy smile crossed his face, his eyes completely closed. "It's so sexy on you."

I laughed. "Honey, you're high."

"As a kite." He moved his face over and put a loud kiss on my cheek. "But Bella is sexy."

"Are you hurting?"

"I can't feel my...kidney...or feet...or...never mind."

I giggled. "Your feet hurt because of a kidney stone? That doesn't make much sense."

"No...I think I'm floating." He kissed me again.

"I think you need to go to sleep, Romeo," I said, pulling his blanket over his body.

"Cats don't live in castles, unicorns do," he whispered. "Gotta make that deadline..."

"Wait, what?"

He just smiled and let out a snore.

I giggled as I tucked him in, fluffing his pillow. I gave his lips a sweet kiss before I went to the kitchen.

He had obviously grocery shopped before he got sick because there was a lot to work with. I decided on light food he could enjoy without it being too tough on his stomach. He had the ingredients for my homemade chicken noodle soup. I hummed lightly as I prepared the soup and marveled at my good fortune. Thank god we're not over, I kept chanting to myself.

As the soup simmered on the stove, I tried to think of fun things I could do with him to stay festive for New Year's. If this stone kicked in on Christmas, that meant he had been in bed for six days. I knew from experience with Charlie that kidney stones just don't allow their victims to walk around and have fun. So I had to think of a comfortable way.

I went to the living room. His couch was too small for us both to rest on. I decided that if we were going to watch the ball drop, I would have to move his mattress to the living room floor. That was simple enough. I could do it when he went on another bathroom run.

He slept for a good three hours as I tried to throw a little private party. I cooked some of his favorite light foods and found his board games, just in case he felt like playing. Finally, I could prepare no more. I sat down on his couch to wait, and my eyes landed on a stack of Parenting Magazine issues.

I had never looked at it before, but now I was eager. I grabbed it and flipped through, looking for a familiar byline. Finally, my eyes spied the words by Edward Cullen, reporter and columnist.

The name of the column was Single Daddy-ing, but this particular headline was Daddy, Why Don't Boys Wear Cerulean Dresses?

This issue was about a year old. Edward cleverly detailed a column in which a four-year-old Emmy was going to day care and kept asking him gender-related questions. They weren't rude or obscene questions, but she was clearly confused about the dynamics of gender. One passage made me giggle:

Things were only complicated further when I left the toilet seat up a few days ago. Since Emmy is my only woman at home, I don't have anyone to yell at me about my slobbish male tendencies. But Emmy couldn't figure out why in the world I would want to sit on the "cold, hard part of the potty." After I tried to explain that boys stand up when they have to pee-pee, she insisted that she wanted to try. Of course, that was an even more difficult conversation. I started worrying that maybe she really was confused where gender is concerned. I began entertaining fantasies of putting a personal ad in the paper: "Female influence wanted for a four-year-old girl. Preferably with a degree in health education so you can answer more, shall we say, uncomfortable questions."

But I was given a little peace of mind last night. I haven't been able to sleep in my boxers like a real man should because Emmy is afraid of thunderstorms at nighttime, and even her stuffed dinosaur Denny can' t scare away those nightmares. Of course in a rainy place like Seattle, I have to do Daddy Bad Dream Duty quite frequently. She's used to cuddling up with me as I wear flannel sleep pants and a t-shirt. On the one night I decided to forgo the t-shirt, she started freaking out.

"But Daddy," she said, a worried whine in her voice. "Your blue t-shirt goes so nicely with the cerulean in your pajama pants."

Looks like I have a little girl after all.

Now all I have to do is figure out what "cerulean" means.

There were other adorable columns, like Letting Her Fly:

She has been going to day care for two years now, but for some reason, it was so much harder to see her slide her little dinosaur backpack on and grab her matching lunchbox. I had made her a special breakfast of heart-shaped pancakes, and when I turned from the stove and saw her, my heart froze. Suddenly, she wasn't my little girl anymore. Her pink dress made her look so much older, and for some reason, the pink bow didn't look as childish. She smiled at me, her front tooth wiggling loose as it begged to be pulled. "Do I look pretty, Daddy?"

Tears filled my eyes. "You look beautiful, sweetheart," I assured her. "But are you sure you want to go?"

Her green eyes glared at me. "Daddy, be serious."

"I'm just saying. You're small and you already know how to read and write so it's kind of pointless to subject you to this, and—"

"Daddy," she said again. "I'm a big girl. Can I have some pancakes?"

I sighed and nodded. "Yeah. Just…be good today." I poured her syrup on her pancakes. "And don't talk to boys."

She rolled her eyes.

It took everything I had to focus on the road as I drove her to school. I parked the car and tried to take her hand in the parking lot, but she jerked it away and glared at me. "Daddy, I'm not a baby."

"I know, my love," I mumbled.

She ran ahead of me and entered the classroom before I could. I looked around and saw lots of mothers hugging their children goodbye. Of course, it didn't take me long to notice that I was the only father. I guided Emmy to the teacher's desk and introduced them.

"Where is Emmy's mother?" the teacher asked me kindly.

"It's just me," I said a bit sadly, staring down at my daughter as she gaped at a picture of a dinosaur on the wall.

"And how are we holding up, Mr. Cullen?"

I'm sure my face told her everything, because she winked at me. "I take it she's a daddy's girl?"

"Every fiber of her being," I admitted.

Emmy tugged on my hand that I had unconsciously given her. "Daddy, it's time for you to leave."

I crouched down by her. "You're sure about this."

"I'm sure," she whispered before hugging me. "You have to be a big boy about this."

And with that little piece of encouragement, I knew she was right. So many times in parenting, the kids are ready to fly, yet the parents keep trying to clip their wings. I know that kindergarten is a small step. Soon, she'll lose her first tooth. She'll eventually have to go to middle school. And then high school—though I certainly don't want to think about that zoo of uncontained male teenagers. And that pink dress she wore on her first day of school, as beautiful as it was, won't be as stunning as her prom dress, her graduation gown, or even her wedding dress.

It's all coming fast. Kindergarten hurt me as an adult more than it ever hurt any child. But at least I still have a year of it until I have to face another big step: first grade. And besides, I would rather let her come home with finger-paint portraits and macaroni necklaces than some boy I'll have to put the fear of god in.

I didn't realize I was choking up until one of my tears fell on the page. He was such a good writer. I was going to have to spare some money and buy a subscription to this magazine.

I grabbed the most recent issue. This column was called Dinosaur Eggs.

What makes a person click with another? Is it similar likes, dislikes, opinions, and strange quirks? Or do opposites always attract? This question haunts me every night after I put my little girl to bed and then go and lie down in my empty full-sized bed. I have no one to warm my sheets, no one to kiss me good night after Emmy falls asleep. It's just me. And as I dream of a future wife and mother for my princess, I turn this question over and over in my mind. What causes attraction?

The most stunning example of true love in my life is that of my parents. My father is an intellect who spends his time reading textbooks on biochemistry and carbon dating. My mother is an artist who prefers to pick out curtains or ride horses. Dad prefers the concrete facts, Mom loves the abstract dreams. They are as different as night and day, a true testament of "opposites attracting." The mother of my daughter, completely absent from our lives, was my exact opposite.

Yet now I'm questioning that. I've met a beautiful woman, and we're compatible in every way. We both have five-year-old children at the same elementary school. We both appreciate fabric softener in an almost religious way. We like the same foods, movies, music. We think that Santa Claus is a spawn of the devil. We share kid-friendly "curse words." (Trust me, there is nothing cuter than a gorgeous brunette shouting "Fiddlesticks!") And we have both had our hearts broken and then healed by unexpected children.

Sounds perfect, right?

We've been setting up "play dates" for our children and sneaking kisses when they're not looking. Finally, I'm not a single man anymore. But am I still a single daddy? It is unbelievably frustrating to figure out how to love both women in my life: how to cater to my responsibilities with Emmy while still having fun with Bella. How to be the old soul that my daughter needs and a typical twenty-two-year-old boyfriend. How to make them both happy and be with both of them at all times, like I so frequently desire to do.

I'm fortunate though, that my first girlfriend since I've had Emmy loves my daughter. And Emmy loves Bella and her son. That's taken care of, so I must figure out how to take care of myself in all of this. How can I keep from being hurt by a woman again? How can I afford to take her out on dates while my daughter needs to go to the dentist? How can I balance my need for physical affection with my need for a one-child household? I've been single-daddying for five years now, but it's still sometimes a slippery slope.

Luckily, Bella is the single mother that every single father dreams of. She is completely dedicated to her child, and I know she debates the same questions in her mind. So far we're taking it slow, but eventually we're going to have to jump together into the unknown. I already feel love for her and I'm already dreaming of seeing her in white. But where do Emmy and Emerson (Bella's son) fit into all of this? Can they finally have a complete family if their two parents decide to stay together?

The unknown is what is scariest. I don't know why some people seem to click and why others (like me and Emmy's mother) are like oil and water. I don't know how my parents, who disagree on nearly everything, love each other passionately. I don't know how to put my new romance in balance with the rest of my life.

But sometimes, the unknown is the most beautiful. Like Emmy has told me many times about dinosaur eggs, "When the baby dinosaur cracks out of the egg, the first thing he sees becomes his favorite thing." I don't know if this is true for dinosaurs—how do scientists know that, if we've never seen a live dinosaur?—but I think it's true for me. Because just about a month ago, I cracked out of my shell and dared to look out in the world. And I first saw Bella and Emerson. And except for Emmy, they are quickly becoming my favorite people on Earth.

I sniffled as I finished the article, tears streaming down my cheeks. I had no idea what he wrote about, much less that he wrote about me. I put the magazine away and could only think of one sentence: "I already feel love for her."

Did I love Edward?

I was suddenly distracted by footsteps. I jumped up, wiped my face, and ran to the bedroom. Edward was getting out of his bed.

"What can I do for you?" I asked him.

"Back to the bathroom," he groaned, wrapping an arm around me and smelling my hair. "I'm trying so hard to pass the stone."

"I made you dinner," I said. "In case you're hungry."

"Maybe. The painkillers are still working and I'm feeling so much better, so maybe."

"Good, sweetie," I said, kissing his chin.

He smiled, gave me a real kiss, and went to the bathroom.

I was quick and effective in moving his mattress and bedding to the living room. I put it in front of the couch so he could prop his pillows against it. After I made the bed, I brought a TV tray with some snacks, a bowl of soup, and a hot cup of peppermint tea.

I waited for him outside the bathroom. He was in there for a long time, but finally he cursed, flushed the toilet, and came out. I took his cold hands and pulled him toward the living room.

"I'm sorry, love, but I need to lay down," he said.

"I know. We're laying down in the living room," I replied.

He gave me a funny look and then saw the mattress on the floor. He smiled and kissed my cheek. "You're a genius."

"Hey, you have to watch the ball drop," I replied. "Now let me help you to bed…"

"I'm not an invalid…"

I pouted my lip at him. "Please let me take care of you? I love to."

He sighed, rolled his eyes, and sat on the bed. I tucked him in and fluffed his propped-up pillows before handing him his tea.

"No, you have to lay down with me," he said as I tried to go to the kitchen.

"You're not hungry?"

"Not yet."

I smiled and laid down next to him. He put an arm around me and offered me a sip of the tea. We shared the cup, just laying down, cuddling, and touching. I stroked his impressive stubble and left little kisses on his neck while his fingers traced my stomach.

"I missed you, sweet girl," he said, burying his face in my hair. "I don't know how much I can tell you that before you realize how true it is. I don't feel complete when you aren't with me."

I remembered his article and smiled. "I feel the same way. I wish Alice had remembered to call me, so I could have helped you more."

"Just focus on tonight," he mumbled. "I'm currently pain-free and I have you here in my bed…no kids to bother us…"

I snorted. "Are you still high?"

He gave me a funny look. "What?"

"Nothing," I said, shaking my head and tilting his hand forward so I could have another drink of tea. "Tell me about cats and unicorns."

"What? Oh, hell, did I start talking after I took the pain pill?"

"You did," I admitted, lightly kissing his chin. "And you need to clean up your potty-mouth, sir."

"Sorry," he muttered. "What did I say?"

"Nothing of consequence," I promised him. "So how much did you miss me?"

He gave me a meaningful look. "Would you like me to show you?"

"Only if you feel like it."

He smiled and slowly rolled over so he was straddling my waist. I put my hands on his back as he positioned himself on his knees so he was lightly hovering over my body. I could see that this position took the pressure off his kidneys. Plus, it was really nice for me. His mouth met mine as his hands tangled in my hair. Our lips were a bit desperate for each other—we moved quickly and a bit roughly. I felt his teeth latch around my lower lip before I felt his tongue swipe the pain away. It was a delicious kiss, better than strawberries with sugar. My hands slipped into the back of his collar as he kissed me, feeling the top of his smooth back so I couldn't hurt him in any way.

I was even more comfortable after I had read his revealing article; my tongue was only focused on seeking depth and fullness with his own tongue. His left hand slid down my hair to my collarbone and then very lightly danced down the front of my shirt. I wasn't bothered by the way he very subtly groped my breast; in fact, I wanted more.

Finally, he pulled back in a cringe. I pulled him down so he was lying on top of me. The weight didn't bother me; I just wanted him close and comfortable. He scooted down so he could rest his head on the fuller part of my chest. I lovingly ran my hand through his hair and finally brought his hand to my mouth.

He sighed happily as I kissed and sucked his fingers. I thought he was going to sleep until he breathed a sigh of relief and looked up at me.

"Thank you," he whispered, starting to roll away.

"Don't move if you're comfortable," I told him. "I'm perfectly fine with this position."

He smiled, moved further down and angled his body so most of his weight was off of me, yet he could still enjoy the soft pillow I provided him. I rubbed his neck muscles as he simply relaxed.

"They'll probably have concerts or movie marathons on TV," he remarked.

"Good idea," I agreed, grabbing the remote I had conveniently left by the mattress. We flipped through the sitcom marathons until finally finding a Paul McCartney concert.

"It's a pity he and Ringo are the only ones left," Edward sighed.

"Yeah, John is my favorite," I admitted. "Paul is a jerk but he's a great singer and songwriter."

"Did you just call one of the four most brilliant musicians in the history of the world a jerk?" he asked me in shock.

"Yeah. The way he hated John and Yoko…"

Edward laughed. "Shh, he's singing."

I didn't recognize the song like Edward did. Honestly, it was one of those infamous Beatles-style songs that didn't make any sense. But he finally started playing a song from his Beatles years that I knew very well.

Edward changed positions so he was laying on his back next to me, and pulled me to his chest. His lips found my ear as he quietly sang.

"I give her all my love, that's all I do. And if you saw my love, you'd love her too. I love her…she gives me everything, and tenderly, the kiss my lover brings, she brings to me. And I love her…"

"You have a beautiful voice," I told him as he kissed my cheek. Just add that to your list of talents: parenting, charming the pants off of me, photography, kissing, singing, and apparently, writing columns.

"And you have a beautiful face, so we even out," he quipped, kissing the spot under my jaw.

As he sang in my ear along with Paul, I reflected on the column I had just read and the lyrics I was hearing now. "I already feel love for her," Edward had written.

I wanted to hear him say it to me. Those three little words that meant everything. He was dancing around it right now…I wanted to hear the concrete words to let me know how he really felt.

It was only six PM by the time his painkillers wore off, so I made him eat a little soup and take another dose. He fell asleep again with the promise of a kiss at midnight, and I was content to just lie next to him. I was so relieved that everything was okay—and so happy in his arms—that I fell asleep with my head on his chest.

"Bella," Edward sang in my ear. "Sweetie, wake up."

I opened my eyes and saw that I was practically on top of him. I quickly jumped off, bouncing the bed and making him cringe.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," I said.

"You can kiss it better," he winked, and I giggled.

"What if I get you some dinner?" I suggested instead. "I'm starving. What time is it?"

"Ten PM," he replied. "You slept for a while."

"Oh, well at least we didn't miss midnight. I'll be right back."

I went to the kitchen and heated the soup up again. I arranged a tray for him that could sit right on his lap with a cup of herbal tea, a bowl of warm soup, and toast. After I put a glass of water on the tray, I carefully carried it to him.

"You have to eat every bite," I warned him.

"Says who?" he asked cheekily, eying the soup.

"Says the chef," I replied. "It's low-sodium, by the way. For your kidneys."

"You're wonderful," he grinned. "I probably will eat every bite, if you come eat with me."

"Of course." I helped him position the tray and ran to the kitchen to fetch my own. I settled on the mattress next to him, making myself comfortable.

He held up his cup of herbal tea. "May I make a toast?"

"Of course," I grinned like a fool. I loved cheesy stuff like this.

He linked our arms together. "To a very interesting night together. I hope we have many more. Also, a toast to painkillers, chicken soup, and to a new year that will hopefully be filled with you."

I blushed as we clinked our cups together and took our sips. After we put the cups down, he gave me a quick kiss. "You're amazing. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

I scoffed as I turned the volume of the TV down. "And why I am so amazing?"

He took a bite of soup and practically purred in satisfaction. "Hmm, well, you made this amazing soup. You're beautiful, intelligent, talented, a fantastic mother...haven't we been through this already?"

"I think we have," I said dryly, taking his spoon from him. He wasn't eating enough. I started to feed him. He ate slowly but he seemed to enjoy it. My dinner was forgotten as I served as his bed-nurse, loving the feeling of having a man besides Emerson and Charlie to take care of. Dinner took forever, but I even managed to convince him to have a second bowl of soup.

"Pay me some new compliments," I said after we finished eating. We weren't far from midnight, but I wasn't interested in the television.

"Well, let's see," he began. "You're a really great snuggler. I swear your body heat felt amazing against my kidneys, as awkward as that sounds. You're a really fabulous kisser...but I think you already know that."

"Oh, am I?" I snorted. "I don't know, I've never kissed me."

"No, that's my job," he replied, stealing a kiss. "Absolute heaven. What else? I can see the love dancing in your eyes when you see your son...which is very, very attractive to me. You put pure love in the food you prepare, which as you know, is the way to a man's heart. And you smell good...like strawberries and freesia, or something."

I laughed. "Okay, I'm actually impressed. I use strawberry shampoo and freesia body wash."

"I knew it," he replied seriously. "Okay, your turn."

I knew exactly what my compliments were going to be.

"You're an amazing photographer, an amazing singer, and according to your mom, you're an amazing pianist," I began.

He closed his eyes, a blush spreading across his skin. "She told you that?"

"Yeah," I smirked. "She called you 'the next Elton John'."

He sighed. "Great."

"Except I was sure to tell her you definitely aren't gay," I added, making him laugh. "Hmm, what else? I've seen you dance with Emmy, and you're great at that. You're the most loving father I have ever seen. I wish I was as close with my dad as Emmy is with you. And what else? Oh yeah, you're an amazing columnist."

He sort of froze. "How many have you read?" he asked me.

"All of the issues you have in your living room," I said nonchalantly.

I had never seen him blush so much. "Even the December issue?"

"Yeah, I actually loved that one," I admitted.

"You're not mad I didn't ask for permission to use your names?" he mumbled.

"Definitely not," I replied. "Why would I be?"

He pursed his lips together. "Hmm...well actually, by the laws of Associated Press style and general ethics, I'm supposed to ask to use an individual's name in such a personal way. But I didn't want to ask you because I wasn't sure if I wanted you to read it."

"Why not?" I asked, a little confused.

He sighed. "Because...I used a pretty big word in that column."

The L-word. I nodded understandingly. "Yes, I know, you did. And I...well, I loved it."

He pulled me closer against his chest-obviously his painkillers were still in effect. Winding his arms around my waist, he whispered in my ear, "That word doesn't scare you?"

I paused before I shook my head. "No, I don't think it does. I could identify with everything in that column. Does it scare you?"

He bit his lip nervously. "I don't think so."

"Does it scare Emmy?"

He smiled and kissed my nose. "Definitely not."

"And it doesn't scare Emerson, so...you and I...we're...um..."

I blushed as I tried to describe this happy little love-cloud that he and I were currently in.

"I love you, Bella Swan," he interrupted me, relieving me of the words. "I know it's only been like six or seven weeks, and I know I've been beating around the bush...but aside from my daughter, I love you more than anyone I've ever met. I love you and your son. And...I really am dreaming of seeing you in white."

My throat felt thick as I heard his admission. "Not white...not right now..." was all I could say.

"Of course not right now," he replied, kissing my earlobe. "I want to take it slow...but I can't pretend that I only like you anymore. I want to be able to tell you that I love you whenever you kiss me good night, and whenever we end our phone calls, and I want you to say it, too. But I'm not going to rush you. I understand that there are a lot of logistics to work through with that word, and that-"

"Edward, shh," I replied, interrupting him with a kiss. "I love you, too. I've suspected it, but I've been positive since I've read that column. I love you so much, and I love Emmy, too. And...I want to be that female influence you wrote about. Sorry if I don't have a health degree."

He laughed and pressed his lips to mine. "I love you," he would whisper between kisses. "So much."

I returned the sentiment between lips and tongues.

I don't know how long we kissed, but faintly, I heard Times Square celebrating as the stroke of midnight announced a new year.

Not only a new year, but a new life.

A new love.

I've never had kidney stones, but I saw my sister as she tried to pass a few. They're miserable (instead of laying on her sweetie like Edward did, she sat upside down to relieve pressure on her kidneys), but the painkillers can make them fun. We were always getting her to spill her guts when she was high. Unfortunately, when I broke my nose, she got her revenge. The "cats, castles, and unicorns" comment was made by me when I was quite high.

The columns that "Edward" wrote were indeed written by me. I was on the school newspaper for two years, and I loved to write columns-mostly political. I eventually quit the newspaper because there was no room for creativity (I hated Associated Press style along with the editor-in-chief and the journalism teacher) and decided to focus on other things instead. I actually started writing for the local newspaper because it was more creative than the high school paper-how ironic is that? No pay, but there is nothing more satisfying than being sixteen and seeing your name along with "contributing reporter" in your town's newspaper. But back to fan fiction, it was fun to once again put myself in a journalist mind-frame and write columns about Emmy. I hope you guys liked them and I hoped they sounded convincing.

And the two songs by Sir McCartney were "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey" (the one that made no sense) and "And I Love Her." The last one was actually a Beatles song, but since Paul wrote it, he gets to claim it as his. As always, I prefer the Beatles version to the solo version because face it, the song arrangements suck without John Lennon's influence.

To answer a reader question: there will be one more post, and it will be an epilogue. And then this story is complete!

The epilogue will be posted tonight, but leave a review for this chapter anyway, por favor.