A/N at the end.
Footprints in the Sand
Chapter 42
After Edward and I put Addie to bed—she woke long enough to tell him all about playing soccer before promptly falling back to sleep—we head back downstairs to clean the kitchen. Though, Edward's interpretation of cleaning differs a lot from mine. Midway through wiping down the counters, he grabs my hand, pulls me close and proceeds to dance with me.
I oblige him despite my two left feet because there's nothing sexier than Edward's playful side, and I'm seeing more and more of it since his proposal.
"Make me another video?" he puts to me, his voice gruff, after a moment of twirling me and laughing at my poorly concealed efforts not to trip over and fall against him.
"Why don't you make one with me," I suggest with a teasing wink that makes Edward break softly into further laughter.
"The complete opposite," he murmurs to himself.
"Hm?"
"You never say what I expect," he explains, and I've already lost count of the number of times he's told me that.
"Well, what do you expect me to say?" I play along.
"I have no idea. You're a complete enigma, woman." He dips me, and the two of us almost end up on the floor.
"Are you honestly trying to kill me?" I exclaim after he steadies the two of us and we both catch our breath.
"I'll do that soon," he promises against my ear.
"Smooth."
"Smooth..." he echoes wryly. "Sorry I was late tonight," he adds after easing himself back to meet my eyes.
"It's okay. I'm marrying a workaholic. I've made my peace with it," I say, gently tweaking his earlobe.
"Once I've filled Rosalie's position, I won't be as busy."
"Hmm, I know," I say softly, releasing a hand to straighten his tie. It's something I do constantly, without even realizing it most days.
He smirks and turns me abruptly in his arms. "You going to move in with us?"
"I said I would, didn't I?" I remind him.
"You hesitated. Again."
"Because you keep springing things on me when I least expect them," I point out to his continued chuckling.
"You can clean the kitchen and our room, and that's all," he changes course on a dime, pulling me close to his chest, and I wonder again whether he realizes exactly how much like Addie he really is.
"Hmm?" I ask slightly frazzled by the fact he just called his room our room, but this man has a habit of taking my breath away over even the most everyday instances.
"You heard me," he says, his voice lowering to a murmur. His eyes keep drifting to my lips, and I know I'm five minutes from being ravished on the island bench.
Unless I distract him, that is.
"I'm home four days out of the week. What the hell am I supposed to do?"
"You'll have Addie with you," he says, planting his lips tenderly to the side of my neck.
"For two weeks..." I tilt my head to the side as his kiss sends cold shivers down my spine.
"Spoil yourself," he speaks against my throat. "I'd enjoy seeing that a lot more than if you were cleaning the house all day."
"Oh, my god..." I say with a sigh, because there's really no resisting this man.
"It's nonnegotiable, woman. I got my housekeeper back, and if she quits again, you are in a lot of trouble." His lips trail south until his entire face is practically pressed to my cleavage.
"What if I fire her myself?" I challenge him lightly, as he scoffs in open amusement and bathes me in his heated breath.
"I'll handcuff you to the bed for a week," he answers.
"That really isn't the threat you think it is, counsellor."
He groans, the arousal behind his voice turning it rustic, as he turns me around until my back is flush to his chest with his arms tight beneath my breasts. There's always been a very commanding, dominating presence about him, and if he wants to incorporate it into our sex life, I am not about to complain.
"How is it I've only known you since December?" he asks more or less to himself, despite putting that question against my ear.
"I'm not sure. How long were you stalking me running?" I play coy.
"Three months, give or take," he answers candidly.
"Were you ever going to make a move?"
"I did, didn't I? It's how you ended up in my kitchen, right now," he says, snaking his hand beneath the nylon of my active wear crop top; through the arm-hole.
"That was all your daughter," I correct him as he takes a full handful of my right breast. "She got you to propose to her imaginary friend.
He laughs breathily.
"I'm salty."
"You are," he agrees, planting his lips to the curve of my neck.
"Let me shower first." I attempt to squirm out of his embrace, but he doesn't let me.
"Not yet." With one hand now grasping both my breasts, he releases the other from around me and slides it over my stomach on a downward path.
Taking full advantage, I turn in his arms, and tighten his tie all the way to his Adam's apple. "You can have your way with me only if you can catch me first."
I sprint for the stairs, taking them two at a time, with Edward hot on my heels. He catches me on the landing, and we fall in a heap together just outside of Addie's bedroom.
"Jesus, woman," he all but gasps and pins me beneath him.
"You're pretty fast," I note impressed. I fully expected to make it to the master bathroom without coming close to being caught.
"Only over short distances," he clarifies, struggling to catch his breath.
"Are you okay there, counsellor?" I tease him.
"Give me a moment," he says with a semi-smirk, and I can practically hear his heart hammering relentlessly behind his ribs. "You've reverted me back to a horny teenager."
"You weren't always this grabby?" I put to him before he practically collapses on top of me, and just as Addie's door abruptly opens.
"Daddy, why are you loving Bella on the floor?" she asks him, her expression comically dubious.
"We were having a race," Edward attempts to explain over his shoulder as I break lightly into laughter. "I won."
"I won. He cheated, sweetie," I set her straight as Edward clamps his hand over my mouth.
"Daddy," she admonishes him.
"I did not cheat—"
"Bella's really fast," she says skeptically.
"My legs are longer," he adds as I attempt to free myself a second time.
"He tripped me over," I just manage to protest before he gags me again, and in turn, Addie jumps on his back.
. . .
With Addie hyped up, it takes us close to two hours to put her back to bed, and after, I jump in the shower before Edward can intercept me and take me against the wall.
I half expect him to join me, but he doesn't; which usually means he's retreated to his study, and I'll be sleeping alone until the early hours of the morning when he crawls in beside me.
I take my time shaving my legs and drying my hair, and when I return to the bedroom, it's to Edward sitting on the bed shirtless with his head buried in his MacBook.
His eyes meet mine over the top of it and he smirks. I return it, and making my way toward him, I shut the lid of his pc and shove it to the nightstand on his side of the bed.
"I was in the middle of—"
"Shut up," I cut him off half a second before straddling myself over him, cupping his face in both my palms and merging my lips with his.
He immediately rolls himself on top of me, because, ironically while we struggled with missionary in the beginning, I know he secretly prefers it.
And that's fine by me because the sensation of Edward's long hot body dragging up and over mine is indescribable.
His stamina has definitely improved, and sex has since evolved and become almost painfully slow and sensual. This man can kiss, and not just my mouth, and after he languidly pulls himself off me and draws me against his chest, my mind's contented and blessedly quiet.
He's the only man who's ever been able to tame it.
"Bella?" he breaks the long silence by speaking my name in a question; which is very unusual for him.
"Hmm?"
"What kind of wedding do you want?"
"I don't mind. What kind do you want?" I reply, angling my head to meet his eyes.
He holds my gaze for a moment or two as that frown slightly knots his brow. "I've done it before. You haven't, so we're doing what you want."
"It's not only about me, though."
"I know," he acknowledges, sounding suddenly distracted, "and your father won't be there to walk you down the aisle."
"It... I'm not going to lie; it won't be easy," I admit. In fact, the mere thought of it causes a lump of emotion to swell in my throat, so I have no idea how I'll get through the actual day.
"What if I walk you down the aisle," Edward suggests gently after a moment of losing himself in his thoughts, and it surprises me so much, I turn to stare at him vacantly.
"You want to break tradition?"
"What's tradition, anyway? You know where it originated from?" He raises both brows as the smallest smile tugs on his lips.
I only shake my head in answer.
"From arranged marriages. The father walked with his daughter to make sure the groom went through with it." He breaks into a smirk this time, as I immediately laugh.
"How the hell do you know that?"
"I once got curious," he says cryptically, which usually means it has something to do with his witch of a dead ex-wife.
"Actually... I kinda like that idea," I decide, and if truth be told, Edward is the only man who's ever lived up to my father. Who else could walk me down the aisle?
"You sure?"
"Positive," I assure him, leaning my head back against his rapidly cooling chest. "Let's have a garden wedding, too."
"In Washington?" he emphasizes its propensity to rain. "That's dicey, sweetheart."
"God, true," I say with a sigh.
"What about a destination wedding. Hawaii?" he proposes. "On the beach?"
I smile in response, but I can already envision it and I more than like the idea. "Something small. Just friends and family."
Family from Edward's side, since I have none.
"Deal." He presses his lips to the top of my head as I expel a heavy breath.
"You exhausted me, counsellor," I veer back.
"Get used to it," he teases me with a gruff voice.
"Smooth. So... what do you expect from me?"
"Expect from you?" he questions.
"As a wife."
"Bella..." Just my name again, and I realize he's giving me the same expression Addie does when she thinks I'm nuts. "Just be yourself, and you have to let me take care of you."
"I do. Don't I...?" I ask in confusion.
"You like to look after me and Addie, but you brush me off when I try to return it."
"Huh? No, I don't," I insist.
At least, I'm not aware that I do.
He nods once in contradiction. "Would you like me to tell you your daily average of 'I'm fine's'?"
"I don't. I mean..." I contemplate arguing with him, but I realize he has me there. It really has become my default response for most things.
"Humor me for once, woman. You don't always have to be so independent. I want you to lean on me." There's something almost vulnerable behind his tone and I find myself nodding before he can finish.
"Okay."
"Promise me."
"I promise."
"Good, and..." With a frown, he abandons it.
"What is it?" I urge him, placing my palm to his cheek to guide his eyes back to mine.
"I want you to know you can always trust me. I will never stray. I never have. Even with what happened with Tanya... It was after I served that bitch with divorce papers. I—"
"I know," I hastily reassure him, nodding my head this time to preempt my tears, but I've been an emotional basket case since his proposal. "Edward I..."
"Look at me," he instructs me. I do. "Two-five-one-one. It's the passcode to my phone and laptop. I'm telling you because—"
"Jesus, Edward, you don't—"
"I do." He's adamant. And serious.
"You're hungover from her," I tell him, albeit delicately, and I feel terrible about it, but he did want me to point it out in the event he was. "I'm not her. I trust you."
"I..." His frown intensifies and he deliberately breaks my gaze.
Reaching over him, I grab my phone that's sitting haphazardly beside his closed MacBook. "Mine's my dad's birthday. Five-nine-seven-one." Holding the screen out for him to see, I punch in the numbers before it can unlock through face recognition, and open my messages. I changed him in my contacts from Stupidly Handsome, to My Stupidly Handsome Fiancé. He notices and softly scoffs back his reaction. "Do you ever read back over our texts?"
"Sometimes."
"You tricked me into revealing so much information about myself, you scoundrel." I scroll back and inch my phone closer to him in reference to the time he got me to answer three questions while successfully avoiding all of mine.
He chuckles this time. "You willingly volunteered it," he echoes what he'd said in text.
I elbow him playfully.
Picking up his phone, he switches it on and follows suit. I'm Sweetheart in his contacts. I found that out a few months ago. He's not careful with his phone at all; he leaves it all over the place, screen up. I learned very early on there was only one secret he held close to him, and with that now out in the open, it's left no hurdles between us.
"This was the moment I knew," he reveals, scrolling back to our earlier conversation.
I guess they never saw you the way I do. I'd texted in reply to Edward commenting that no one had ever called him sweet before.
"Why that moment?"
"Because no one's ever saw me the way you do," he quotes my own words back to me.
"No one's ever called me potato pie," I mumble, completely masking my full-bodied blush. "If only I'd known you were as charming as you are back then..."
"Hmm, you thought I was an asshole," he relays with continued amusement.
"You made me miss my only break without so much as a thank you," I remind him in protest as his chuckling increases.
"I was very overwrought. I thanked you the next day."
"I know you did," I say ruefully, "while you patronized me by reminding me about calling you an asshole."
"Why do you always think I'm patronizing you?" he asks, sounding genuinely curious despite the smirk that's now fixed to his expression.
"You weren't patronizing me?" I ask unconvinced.
"I was flirting with you," he confesses.
"What?" I blurt unsure I believe him. "Oh my god. Alice tried to convince me of the same thing."
"You didn't listen to her?"
"You wrote me a birthday invite minus your address and phone number."
"We've been over this. I thought you were imaginary." He's enjoying this, I realize.
"I had no idea, so how else was I supposed to take it? Dear Bella-from-next-door-to-grandma's-house, please don't come to my daughter's birthday party?"
He holds my gaze for a moment as his smirk turns to a full grin. "Fair call."
"Stop doing that." I nudge him, and pinching a fine strand of his chest hair, I tug it.
"Doing what?" he asks after he jumps in his skin and breaks into open laughter.
"Putting me on the stand," I answer, and apparently, he finds this hilarious.
"You know, if you were put on the stand in opposition, I'd have no choice but to break you," he practically growls, and mother of god, this man.
"Scoundrel."
"Then I'd apologize and ask you out."
"Through a flirty, patronizing handwritten note in my mail box the next day?"
"Bella..." he says after a moment of staring intently at me, and I'm not sure whether he thinks I'm completely insane, or whether he's still trying to figure more out about me. I often discover him scrutinizing me in silence, his eyebrows furrowing as though he doesn't know what to make of me. "If we were strangers, I meant," he clarifies. "Otherwise, I'd go easy on you."
"I'd never agree to be a witness for the other side."
His smile this time is warm and it reaches those too intense eyes of his. And when he opens his mouth, it's to completely change the subject. "I need to run something by you."
"Okay...?"
"My mother is organizing a family lunch to announce our engagement. Rose will be there..." he leaves the gravity of it hanging as I sigh and let my head drop.
"She's still with your brother?"
"She is. Though, their engagement is on hiatus indefinitely." He snorts. "It was going to be dinner, but I insisted on lunch. Addie's going, and Rose will be less likely to get drunk in the middle of the day."
"I thought she went to rehab."
"That was a clause in the breach of contract," he explains with a notable tinge of bitterness in his voice. "She only went so she wouldn't walk away with nothing."
"Okay, that's fine. I-I..."
Closing his eyes, he groans and very meticulously rubs his forehead with his fingertips. "You're killing me, woman."
With frustration rising in my chest for the first time, I huff. "Of course, it's not fine, but you compromise for family, and do things because they've invited you. Even when it's the last place you'd rather be."
"I've upset you." It's not a question, and taking my chin he gingerly angles my face back to his.
"I don't know what you want me to say, sometimes," I reply begrudgingly.
"I don't want to push you to be open with me." His eyes search mine in their depths as a sigh gushes from between my lips.
"Most times when I say it, it's true."
"Now's not most times," he points out, tactfully this time, and there's just no getting anything past him.
"I know, but I agreed because it's your parents and brother, and not because of her."
"Alright," he concedes before he slaps my backside loudly, "you'd better get your clothes on before I think about round two. I've got a lot of work to do."
"You're already thinking about it, it seems," I say shrewdly in reference to the notable bulge expanding beneath the sheet that covers the both of us waist down.
He follows my gaze as his expression quickly mirrors mine, and when I meet his eyes, they're dark, hungry and overrunning with innuendo.
"Fuck it," he says, and tearing the sheet away, he pulls me in his arms and once again rolls his tall frame over me.
"Missionary twice in one night, counsellor? I should buy a lot—"
"Shut up."
. . .
"Look, Bella—I-I mean Mommy—it's your house." Addie points her index finger to my apartment block after unlocking herself from her booster seat and placing her little hand to my shoulder. "Do you still live there."
"I live with you and Daddy," I remind her with an encouraging smile. It's not the first time we've had this conversation, but sweet little Addie evidently needs the reassurance and I'm all too happy to give it to her.
"Does someone else live there?" she asks, tilting her braided head in contemplation. I tried to teach Edward to braid the night before; it didn't go down well.
"Not yet. I haven't decided what I'm going to do with it." I turn to Edward who's continuing to clutch the steering wheel of this car with his signature frown highlighting his troubled expression.
"We going in?" I ask lightly.
Flashing me a quick grin, he turns off the engine. "Let's go."
Addie climbs to the front of the car and exits with me, grabbing my hand and swinging from it. Edward takes the other and the three of us make our way toward the front door of the Dutch Colonial.
Emmett and Rose are already here. Emmett's black BMW is parked in the driveway and as we pass by, Edward glances toward it; his frown increasing.
"We won't stay long," he promises against my ear, and with a steely breath, he opens the door for me.
"Hello, Bella dear," Mrs. Cullen greets me in the foyer with a brief hug and kiss to the cheek.
"Hello, Esme," I reply, matching her responsive smile.
"You look lovely," she compliments me before pulling her son into her arms for a similar greeting.
"She better not start any bullshit," Edward warns his mother lowly.
"She wouldn't dare," Esme replies, but by the edge of exasperation in her voice, I doubt she fully believes it herself. "We're out the back," she informs him, opening her arm and ushering us toward the covered lanai at the rear of the house.
"Hello, darling. I've missed you," she greets Addie by placing her palm to the top of her head. "Have you been good?"
"Uh-huh, and guess what, Grandma?"
"What?"
"I'm playing soccer next week," she fills her in chirpily.
"In two weeks," Edward corrects her.
"In two weeks," Addie immediately amends, her enthusiasm not dwindling.
"I know, darling. You've already told me. It's very exciting." Esme turns to me with an expression I now fully understand as a new mother to a very rambunctious five-year-old.
Dr. Cullen, Emmet and Rose are all seated in the patio furniture, and it's Dr. Cullen who rises to his feet first to greet us. Like Esme, he kisses my cheek, and offers up small talk about work. He appears to listen intently, as though he's genuinely interested. He really is the sweetest man, and it's not hard to see where Edward gets it from.
Emmett greets me next, pulling me into his mammoth embrace and offering me repeated congratulations. He extends it toward Edward next, which leaves me open to Rosalie's attention.
"Hello, Bella," she says coolly without a speck of sincerity. "It's good to see you again."
"You too." My tenor matches hers, but since she's not making an effort to be civil, neither am I.
Then, without warning, she takes my left hand to closely inspect my engagement ring. "Hm, it's bigger than the one he bought Kate. He must really love you."
"You're ridiculous," I whisper harshly while the next words on my lips are cut short by Esme.
"For heaven's sake, Rose!" she snaps in a voice brimmed with uncharacteristic hostility despite her obvious attempts to keep it hushed. "Can't you help yourself?"
In reply Rose rolls her eyes. "Apparently no one in this family can take a joke," she retorts haughtily, making her way back to her original position on the outdoor sofa.
I huff not nearly as beneath my breath as I intended, before glancing toward Edward. By all intents, he appears none-the-wiser.
"Bel—I mean Mommy?" Addie pipes up from beside me.
"What is it, sweetie?" I ask glancing down at her.
"Who's Kate?" she asks innocently, her clear eyes round and solemn.
"I..." I'm lost for words.
"Would you like a drink, darling?" Esme hastily intervenes, taking her hand. "I have chocolate milk."
"'Kay."
"Great," I mutter to myself after the two of them disappear inside the house.
The afternoon's already off to a fantastic start.
Edward catches my attention and motions me over to him. I take the hand he offers and tell myself not to let Rose get under my skin. He's blatantly ignoring her, and I'm fairly certain he hasn't acknowledged her yet; even in greeting.
Lunch is served around one; a huge platter of seafood, shellfish and salad. We all assemble in the outdoor dining furniture, while Esme makes sure Rose is seated as far away from me as possible.
With good reason.
I help Addie shell the rather large shrimp and it keeps me distracted from Rose's string of passive aggressive, off-handed remarks.
Edward's patience is wearing thin however, and at one point he openly glares at her in an expression that's nothing short of murderous.
Rose of course only scoffs to herself and nonchalantly engages her increasingly uncomfortable boyfriend in conversation.
Emmett's well aware of her behavior, and on more than one occasion he's discreetly told her to stop.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Edward apologizes in confidence against my ear, his palm resting on my upper thigh beneath the table.
"It's not fine, but it will be," I reply, making sure to elaborate on those two words he's made me so conscious of, even as I shake my head minimally to myself.
Clearly Rose has no self-respect at all.
"Let me know when you want to leave," he adds, the slight smile on his lips suggesting he appreciated my answer.
I nod but don't reply. Esme's noticed our interaction and I can't stand seeing the silent apologies behind her eyes.
Rose has the good sense not to push Edward. She knows when to back off, and it makes the atmosphere almost bearable. Still, Dr. Cullen is frowning almost as much as his son, Emmett's practically squirming in his seat, and Esme has fallen prone to constantly massaging her forehead.
When lunch finally wraps up, I practically jump to my feet and offer to help her clear away the dishes.
"Thank you, dear," she says with a temperate smile that momentarily masks her exacerbation.
"Can I help too, Bel—Mommy?" Addie immediately volunteers.
"'Course you can," I reply tweaking her braid and making her giggle. The poor thing only sat, wide-eyed and wary in response to the obvious tension around her.
After, Esme makes coffee, serving it around the patio furniture, as the six of us sit and chat. Esme asks questions about the wedding date and location, and while Rose's attitude hasn't changed, for the most part, she's ignored.
Edward won't even look at her, and the time begins to painfully drag. Sensing Edward's about to throw in the towel and leave, Esme asks me to accompany her inside.
"Can I come, too, Grand—?"
"It'll just be for a moment, darling," she gently let's Addie down, before taking my hand in hers and leading me through the French doors off the kitchen. "This way," she adds as we make our way around the curved staircase in the foyer to an almost obscured room behind it.
It's Carlisle's study I quickly realize, and after closing the door behind us, Esme turns to me. "Bella, I'm so terribly sorry for Rose's behavior."
"It's not your fault, Mrs. Cullen," I reassure her, exhaling heavily. There's tension in every family, I remind myself, and Rose is apparently going to be mine.
Esme smiles and nods, and we fall naturally into a moment of warmth. "In regards to Addie, she only knows her mother as Kathryn," she discloses, breaking the silence.
"I figured as much. It's the first time I've heard her mention her since..." It has to be the day we watched Lady and the Tramp, I muse silently. The day I received Edward's flirty, patronizing note in my letterbox.
"No, she doesn't bring her up anymore," Esme agrees with an obvious edge of relief behind her voice. "Edward used to get very tense when she did."
"He gets tense when she's brought up in general," I add quietly.
"Does he speak of her now?" She appears surprised, but she knows her own son.
"Not really, but when she is..."
"Hmm. Bella dear?" she breaches, her expression becoming uncertain; almost pained.
"Yes?"
"I never interfered in Edward's marriage with... that woman, and I regret it every day. I... Well, I won't interfere in yours, but can I just say one thing?"
"Of c-course you can," I stammer, but her expression is beginning to worry me. She looks suddenly close to tears.
"Take care of him for me. Love him every moment of the day, even when he's moody and overworked. Make sure he knows how much you appreciate him, value him, need him. Edward's never known that from another woman before and to watch the kind of effect it had on him nearly killed me." Her tears break free, and not an instant later, mine follow.
"I will—I promise," I vow, wiping my eyes clumsily with Esme's assistance as she offers me a Kleenex. "When we first met, I didn't realize he was so...so broken."
"He was very broken," she agrees seriously, dabbing the corner of her eyes with a tissue, "and he was very closed off. The only door to his heart was for Addie, but to see him let you in has absolutely warmed my heart."
"Thank you, Mrs. Cullen. I-I thought you didn't approve of me," I admit shamefully. To my credit Esme is a very hard woman to work out, but I'm as equally terrible at reading people.
"Why on earth would you think that?" She's taken aback.
"Because I get everyone wrong. I initially thought Edward hated me." I laugh despite myself, and Esme quickly joins me.
"I knew you'd caught his eye almost immediately. The evening Addie broke her arm, he actually interrogated me with questions about you. It's the longest conversation we've had for a very long time. He also started to stop by during the day, and knowing Edward, he very rarely leaves his office outside of work."
"Gosh, he scared the life out of me in the beginning. He's very intimidating," I reveal, blushing furiously, and it's a little disconcerting that I'm actually having this conversation with Mrs. Cullen.
She chuckles and nods her head fervently. "He is. He's very much like his father, but beneath it all, he's very sweet and charming, as I'm sure you've already discovered."
"I have, yes."
"Now, dear, I am definitely overstepping this time, but... are you sure not having children with him won't be a problem in your marriage?" she asks apprehensively, and her eyes, so much like her son's, are beseeching.
I pause for a moment, surprised by my own surprise. I assumed Dr. Cullen had already filled her in. "Mrs. Cullen, Edward's had his vasectomy reversed."
A/N: no, this is not the end. I split the chapters, so there's going to be 43 all up and one epi. It's already written, I just have to fix it. It's bad. I wrote it while I was sick. I'm just now getting over Glandular fever which fucked me up for 3 months, and on top of general writer's block, Final Fantasy VII Rebirth releasing (it was disappointing ugh) and my adhd just being a royal bitch of epic proportions, I honestly didn't think I'd ever write again. But here I am, light at the end of the tunnel. Yay. I suck.
To everyone who's DMed and reviewed me asking if I was going to update, I tried to message back but this crap site wouldn't let me. I'm fairly certain notifications are down again as well. Great. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and I will definitely not make you all wait another 5 months for chapter 43.
God, I suck.
ETA: I know I've put some Australian spelling in there. I'll fix it later. I have no beta, so no being a shithead and anon reviewing simply to point it out. 3 months of sickness has left me less cynical and fuckton more agro.