Thank you for being patient! I know I said I'd update two days ago, but I had some energy-sucking days at work this week and just couldn't. I appreciate you being here and reading :3

53
- desire and doubt -

Bella

While Edward gets in the shower, I unpack my clothes, laying out the only dress I brought for tonight. With our last-minute plans, I didn't have time to buy anything new, but I tried it on before we flew out this morning to ensure it still fit. And it did—just differently than it has in the past.

Christmas Day with the Cullens is always laidback and casually cozy, but Christmas Eve is always a fancy affair. We dress up, drink too much, eat a steak dinner that Carlisle cooks, and then all gather in front of the tree for an annual photo that I set up for us.

I wonder if they took a photo last year.

I wonder if we're going to take one this year.

I didn't bring my camera because it felt presumptuous. Everything is still so fragile and new, and I don't expect things to feel familiar yet.

Moving into the attached bathroom to do my makeup, I leave the door open to let steam escape so I can use the mirror. I'm about to announce that I'm in here so Edward knows, but then the water shuts off, the curtain opens, and he stands there naked.

For a beat, he looks surprised to see me. And then he looks smug.

I try not to stare, but I can't seem to look away, either. He's leaner, but his shoulders are broader, his arms stronger. His hard body is dripping with water, the thick length of him long and limp.

My gaze darts back toward the mirror and I nervously wipe the foggy glass before locking eyes onto my reflection. I look flushed and sheepish… and a little aroused.

"Sorry," I tell him. "I was about to tell you I was in here and… yeah."

"Don't be sorry," he says unaffected. Then again, he's not the one who just saw me naked, so I guess there's nothing to affect him. "It's nothing you haven't seen before."

"True. But before I wasn't pregnant with increased sexual desire," I say without thinking.

With a small, throaty laugh he says, "Bella. Are you trying to tell me you're horny?"

He's still naked and I don't think I can have this conversation because it doesn't feel safe. Then I decide, fuck it. He's my husband and if I'm going to talk about this with anyone, it'd be him.

"Maybe I am," I agree, looking at him again, but I keep my eyes firmly on his face. "What are you going to do about it?"

Finally, he looks shocked. His mouth parts and I'm not sure what he's about to say because I throw a towel his way, satisfied by his surprise.

"Thanks," he says, clearing his throat.

I dump my makeup bag on the counter, and in my peripheral, I can see him drying off and wrapping the towel around his waist. When he walks by me, his lips graze my cheek, leaving my body buzzing.

With him in the bedroom and me in the bathroom, we talk while we get ready, about nothing in particular. It's moments like this I miss the most. Just having his presence. His companionship.

When it's time to slip into my dress, I shut the bathroom door, feeling a little more modest than he did.

Once it's on, I reach behind me to zip it up, but with the tighter fit, it makes it difficult.

I'm about to open the door and ask Edward for help when my phone chimes with a message, stealing my attention.

It's a picture of the charcuterie board Rosalie was stressing about putting together for her Christmas Eve party tonight.

Bella: That is one sexy meat board.

Rosalie: LOL Emmett can't keep his filthy paws off of it.

I laugh out loud because I can just picture Emmett sneaking food here and there and Rosalie slapping his hand away.

Bella: You did a great job with it. Kind of wish I were there!

Rosalie: Same! We'll just all have to get together for NYE. How is everything going so far?

Bella: Things are good. His parents welcomed us with open arms because they're amazing. We're finishing getting ready, and then his sister and her fiancé will be here. I'm more nervous to see her than anything.

Rosalie: I'm sure she's excited to see you.

Bella: I'm not sure wtf she's feeling. Edward told me half an hour ago that she told his mom some of what happened between us. Like… the intimate stuff I didn't want his parents to ever know about.

I send two women emojis and one guy emoji so Rosalie knows exactly what I'm talking about.

Rosalie: What the fuck?! Why?

Bella: I don't know. His parents are acting normal but still. It's weird and was so unnecessary on her part.

Rosalie: Ummm, yeah, I'd say so. Are you going to tell her you know she did that?

Bella: Unsure. I'll see how it goes with her. Not sure what good that would do, you know?

Rosalie: It would set the tone that you're not going to allow her to disrespect you and Edward like that. But I also understand wanting to let it go and to squash any potential for drama. Now I wish I was there so I could kick some ass for you.

I laugh again, feeling Rosalie's fierce friendship through the phone.

Bella: That would be something! I'll feel it out, I guess.

Rosalie: You got this, girl. Even if you don't mention it to her, you and Edward being there is a big deal. It's a step in the right direction and you're embracing the weirdness. Ripping off the bandaid has to happen at some point.

Bella: I know. But does it have to be during a point in my life when I can't have a glass of champagne to ease the pain of ripping it off? It feels cruel lol

Rosalie: Just lean into Edward's love. That'll get you through.

Bella: Okay, sap! Who knew you were such a romantic?

Rosalie: I freaking LOVE love! I gotta go finish setting up, but keep me posted on everything.

I tell her I will and that I miss her.

She returns the sentiment.

I lock my phone and set it on the counter, my heart feeling a little achy afterward because as much as I've missed Seattle, now that I'm here, there's a longing for LA.

Maybe it's because things are still fragile and uncertain with Edward's family. Especially Allie. But I think it's also because the thought of not being near Rosalie or having her supportive friendship makes me incredibly sad.

Instead of staying emotional about something that hasn't been decided yet, I focus on the present and open the bathroom door.

Edward's sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, scrolling on his phone. He's dressed in charcoal slacks, a matching jacket, a white button-down, and no tie.

"What was so funny in there?" he asks lightly, his eyes still on his phone.

I stay in the doorway. "I was texting Rosalie."

"Ahh." When he looks up and sees my somber expression, he asks, "What's wrong?"

I shake my head, but he stands to cross the room until he's in front of me. His hair is still a bit damp, so it's a shade darker than usual, and since he forgot his electric razor, slight stubble peppers his cheeks and jaw.

In other words, he looks so goddamn handsome it almost makes me nervous to be this close to him.

"Nothing's wrong. Just… when Rosalie and I were texting, it made me, like…" I pause, my thoughts still disjointed when I say, "I think you and I should go see our house while we're here."

"Okay."

"I know you're not loving your job, but that doesn't necessarily mean we'll leave LA. And I'm not saying we need to decide what we'll do, like if we sell or move back eventually, but… I think it'll be good to see our house. To just be there again. Or maybe it'll be bad and that alone will help us decide what we want to do."

"I agree, I think we should go visit the house before deciding anything. But what does this have to do with Rosalie?"

I shrug. "I just got a little overwhelmed imagining not having her around," I admit. "This is the first time in my life I have a friend of my own. And yeah, she works with you, but… she isn't tied to you like that, you know? If something happened between you and me…" I hedge carefully, not fully wanting to entertain the idea of us not being able to work through our issues. "I just know I'd still have her on my side. And that's important to me."

His eyes soften. "I know I was an asshole when you first told me you two were friends, but I'm glad you have her."

"Me too." I smile a little, appreciating his words. "While you're here, do you mind helping me?" I ask, turning around to face the mirror so he can zip me up. Our gazes lock in the reflection, his olive eyes sparking with delight, like he's just taking me in for the first time since I opened the bathroom door.

"Look at you," he says, voice velvet, making my chest swell. "You're glowing."

"It's amazing what a little dry shampoo and lipstick can do for a gal," I joke.

"Don't downplay how fucking beautiful you are."

His fingers skim down my exposed back until he reaches the zipper. Slowly, he drags it up my spine.

"I love this dress," he murmurs.

Long, black, and strappy, it fits snugly around my bump, accentuating my shape and hugging my larger chest.

"It doesn't look weird since it's not maternity?" I ask. "It's not too tight or risqué with my bigger chest?"

"No. You look fucking sexy," he compliments. "And somehow cute, too."

I smile. "So do you. Well, maybe not cute. Painfully handsome is more like it."

He's still standing behind me, our eyes caught in a staring contest in the mirror. His hand rests on my hip and he kisses my bare shoulder, letting his mouth linger there.

Another kiss.

And another but this time he swipes my hair to one side so he can press his warm lips to my neck.

Goosebumps spread across my skin and he presses against me, making it known his cock is straining in his slacks.

My body burns for him.

"This is the dress you wore on New Year's Eve a few years ago," Edward remembers, lips skimming the spot below my ear, speaking directly to my skin. It feels like I'm eavesdropping.

"Yes." My voice is shallow; a breath.

"The same dress you wore the night you said you wanted us to try for a baby."

I'm caught between arousal and feeling somber because I remember that night well. It was one of the memories I dissected when I was alone. Masochistically replaying the high and the excitement we felt when we naively thought a life we wanted was within reach.

"And now I'm wearing it again and we're having a baby," I whisper, reeling from this full-circle moment. "What else do you remember from that night?"

He hums and presses against me a little harder. When he kisses my neck this time, I feel his tongue sweep against my skin at the same moment he brings a palm up to cup my breast.

"I remember how many times I made love to you," he murmurs, voice thick with his arousal as he nips at my ear and pinches my nipple through the silk of my dress. "How many times you rode me. How wet you were."

My heart pounds, but the pulse of it is in my groin as I remember that night. His tongue is gone but his teeth are there, biting my throat gently, making my breath hitch.

I miss this.

This hunger for each other. This passion. I miss his dirty mouth and his cock and the way he can make me so fucking aroused with just a memory. Just his words.

I turn around to face him, his throat bobbing with a hard, sexy swallow. His eyes darken with delicious lust and he grabs my face to kiss me. It's rough. Raw. Teeth and tongue. Desperation and desire.

I know my lipstick smears. I know my concealer smudges.

But I don't care.

I slide my hand between us, rubbing him through his slacks, feeling how hard he is for me. He groans into my mouth but after a beat, everything halts.

Our kiss slows and he angles his body away from my hand so I'm not touching him anymore.

Still cradling my face, his forehead rests against mine.

His breath slows. Eyes close.

"I want you," he whispers, almost painfully. "So fucking bad."

My fingers brush his stubbled jaw. "So do I."

"But I feel like an asshole."

"What? Why?"

He opens his eyes and straightens, hands dropping from my face.

"Because I don't think we should have sex until we talk to our couples therapist."

It's like a balloon deflates in my chest.

Like the flame we were both feeling gets smothered with self-consciousness and doubt.

"Okay. Why?" I ask, even if on some level I probably know why we shouldn't be intimate yet.

"Because when you touched me all I thought of was how you probably touched him," he admits, not bothering to say Levi's name. "It's fucking with me. I didn't expect my brain to go there but it did and… I'm sorry for starting this. That wasn't fair of me."

I'm not sure how to respond to that, so I don't. I grab a makeup wipe and put some space between us, leaving the bathroom and sitting on the bed.

"Bella," he says so, so gently as he sits next to me. "Are you mad?"

"No," I say honestly, wiping at my mouth. "I know we both still need to work through stuff. I'm just sad because, unfortunately, I completely get it. I wouldn't have slept with you that soon months ago if I had known about her. So while you need this time to process my being with someone else… I didn't get that luxury."

Understanding and remorse both war on his face.

"I didn't think of it like that," he mumbles. "You have to know I hate that I lied. You deserved so much fucking more from me, and I'm sorry."

"I know," I promise, keeping my tone tender. "I'm not bringing it up for you to feel bad. I just want to be honest with you about where my head goes when you set boundaries that I didn't get to. But I guess… now I can work through it. With you. In therapy."

He nods solemnly. "Did I just make shit worse between us by bringing all of this up?"

"Edward, no." I hand him a wipe to remove some of the berry lipstick that got transferred to his mouth. "I'd rather you be brutally honest like we agreed when stuff like this comes up instead of being scared to tell me. What would be worse is ignoring our issues, like we've done in the past. So, thank you for telling me."

"Yeah," he agrees, even if it still feels apologetic. "Trust me, I'd much rather be inside of you right now than feeling like this."

I groan in misery because yeah, that would be amazing. But I know we're not there yet.

"Saying that doesn't help," I laugh a little.

He smiles wryly. "Sorry."

"No more apologizing," I reassure him. "I agree we should talk about intimacy with Angela before we dive back into all of that. But I also worry that if we build it up too much, it might strain things. I want things to feel natural between us. I don't want us not to be able to act on what we're feeling but… I don't want to risk it being too soon."

He brushes my cheek. "Touching you did feel natural. A little too natural. And easy. My body doesn't have any trouble reacting to you. It's my fucking head that's causing the issue."

I frown, knowing exactly what it's like to have insecurity plague your mind.

"I'm sorry. Maybe we shouldn't share a bed tonight," I suggest, but it's a half-assed idea that I completely loathe.

He laughs, the moment lightening. "There's no way in hell I'm not staying with you. I can suffer all night if it means sleeping beside you."

I lean in to kiss him. "Okay. So I shouldn't sleep naked?" I tease.

He groans. "Baby."

"It's payback for that comment about you wanting to be inside of me."

He cradles my face again, offering one more tender kiss, lips brushing against mine as he whispers, "I love you. But you gotta play fair."

I smile against his mouth just as we hear some commotion, voices trailing down the hallway.

"Allie and Jasper must be here," he says, eyes darting toward the door.

"Great." Anxiety kicks in and I stand, moving toward the mirror to reapply my lipstick before taking a deep breath.

"Don't be nervous. I've got you," he promises.

"I know. But I've enjoyed this bubble we've been in for the last hour," I admit, smiling softly.

"Me too," he agrees, and I hear the "but" he doesn't say.

But now it's time to face reality.

"I don't know if I want to tell Allie that we know she talked to your mom," I say honestly. "I'm not sure if it's necessary."

"Okay," he agrees, offering me his palm so we can walk out hand-in-hand like the united front we are. "Whatever you want. I'll follow your lead."