She stared at me for a beat longer, clearly trying to identify what had possessed me, then choked out a burst of laughter.

"I didn't realize I'd fallen asleep. When I wake up there's going to be food all over my face. That's embarrassing."

Rolling my eyes, I leaned in to kiss her again.

"Very funny, Bella. We both know I'm your nightmare."

She leveled a hard glower at me, offended at my self-deprecation.

The look sobered me, my wary eyes roaming her face. So I wasn't a nightmare, but she was still caught in a fabricated reality where I was here out of some twisted, superficial obligation and not love. Sounded an awful lot like a nightmare to me.

"I love you, Bella. What do I have to do to show you I'm not going anywhere?"

Please, give me a clue, a hint, anything.

The months since I'd come back felt like running on a treadmill - like I was moving, sprinting to the finish, but not actually getting anywhere.

I knew there had to be something, some kind of physical proof I could offer to solidify my commitment to her.