SIXTEEN

The day had been long, my first round of chemo still making me feel a bit weak, but I pushed through because today was special. Some of the new furniture had arrived at Edward's house, and I was determined to see it all come together. I was about to attempt a ladder, to carefully hang up a set of sheers in the front room, when I heard the front door open.

Edward walked in, looking slightly disheveled from his travels but still every bit the charming man I couldn't stop thinking about. His eyes found me immediately, and without a word, he crossed the room to help, climbing the ladder with an ease that made me smile.

"Hey, I've got this," he said, taking over as he reached up to secure the curtains. I watched him, admiring the way he moved, the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt as he worked. He was back from an away game, and I couldn't deny how much I'd missed him.

When he climbed down from the ladder, he didn't hesitate. He grabbed me, pulling me close, his arms wrapping around me in a way that made me feel like I was finally home. "I missed you so much," he said, his voice rough with emotion.

I gasped slightly, touched by the intensity of his words, and without thinking, I grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the stairs. "Come with me," I said, a mischievous smile spreading across my face.

We climbed the stairs, and I could feel the anticipation building. The trades had left for the day, and it was just the two of us. When we reached the doorway to his new bedroom, I stopped and turned to him, a playful glint in my eyes.

"Close your eyes," I said, covering them with my hands. He gave me a curious smile but did as I asked, letting me guide him into the room.

"Okay," I whispered, leaning close to his ear. "Surprise."

When I let go, he opened his eyes and looked around, his jaw dropping in awe. The room was perfect—warm tones, sleek furniture, a touch of elegance that didn't feel overly masculine or sterile. The bed was dressed in soft, inviting linens, the kind that made you want to sink into them and never leave. There were tasteful accents, a beautiful rug, and a hint of personality that spoke to who Edward really was.

He turned to me, his eyes filled with something I couldn't quite name. "Bella," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "This is incredible. It's perfect."

Before I could even register his words, he pulled me into him, his lips finding mine in a kiss that was both tender and full of everything he couldn't put into words. His hands cupped my face as he kissed me like he never wanted to stop, and I felt myself melting into him, losing track of everything except the way he made me feel.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the house, not the furniture, not even my fears. It was just us, wrapped up in something real, something I didn't want to let go of.

Edward's lips moved against mine, gentle at first, but then deeper, more urgent, as if he was pouring everything he felt into that kiss. His hands slid from my face to my waist, pulling me closer, and I felt my heart race in response. The room, the furniture, everything else seemed to disappear around us.

"I'm still pretty horny," I whisper against his lips, "and oh look. There's a bed now."

Edward chuckled softly, his breath warm against my skin. "Are you sure?" he asked.

I silenced him with another kiss, my fingers threading through his hair. "I'm sure," I murmured. "I want this. I want you."

Without another word, Edward scooped me up in his arms, cradling me against his chest as if I weighed nothing. He carried me to the bed, laying me down with a gentleness that made my heart ache. The new sheets were cool and soft against my skin as Edward lowered himself beside me, his body a comforting weight.

His hands roamed my body, tender and exploratory, as if he was rediscovering every curve and plane. I arched into his touch, craving more.

Our kisses grew heated, our breaths mingling as his hands roamed over my back, tracing the curve of my spine. I felt his fingers dip under the hem of my shirt, touching the bare skin of my waist, and a shiver ran through me at the contact. I reached up, threading my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, needing him like air.

"Don't hold back okay?" I plead.

Edward's eyes darkened with desire, but there was still a hint of concern in them. "Are you sure?" he asked again, his voice husky. "I don't want to hurt you."

"But baby… It's so much sexier when it hurts," I moan, tugging on his shirt.

"Who are you and where did you come from?" he eyes darken and filled with something that made my knees weak, "am I about to discover you're actually some sort of sex angel?"

I couldn't help but laugh at his words, a mix of amusement and arousal coursing through me. "Maybe I am," I teased, my fingers tracing the contours of his chest through his shirt. "Why don't you find out?"

His eyes, dark with desire, locked onto mine as he slowly began unbuttoning my blouse. With each inch of skin revealed, I felt my breath quicken. Edward's touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine as his fingers grazed my collarbone, then lower.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "So incredibly beautiful."

I arched into his touch, craving more. My hands found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upwards. Edward obliged, pulling it over his head in one fluid motion. The sight of his bare chest, toned and perfect, made my mouth go dry.

Those expert lips moved down my neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses that made my breath hitch. He was taking his time, savouring every inch of skin he could reach, and I could feel my pulse quicken with every touch. His hands roamed lower, fingers grazing my waist, my hips, as he pressed me deeper into the mattress.

"God, Bella," he breathed against my skin, his voice rough and full of need. "You have no idea how much I've thought about this. How much I've thought about you."

I felt like I was burning, my whole body alive with a fire I couldn't put out. His words wrapped around me, each one sinking deeper, making me feel wanted, desired in a way I'd never known. I reached up, cupping his face in my hands, pulling him back to me, kissing him like he was the air I needed to breathe.

He responded with a hunger that matched my own, his hands slipping under my shirt, lifting it slowly, inch by inch, as if he was unwrapping something precious. I gasped as his fingers brushed over my bare skin, every touch leaving a trail of sparks that set my nerves on fire.

His gaze darkened once those piercing eyes landed on my bare skin. He leaned down, his lips pressing against the curve of my shoulder, before moving to my breasts.

I gasped as Edward's lips trailed lower, his tongue tracing delicate patterns across my skin. Every touch sent shivers through my body, igniting a fire deep within me. His hands caressed my sides, fingers skimming over my ribs before settling on my hips.

"You're exquisite," he murmured against my skin, his breath hot and enticing.

I arched into him, craving more contact. My fingers tangled in his hair, urging him on as he lavished attention on my breasts. A soft moan escaped my lips when he took a nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue. Sucking me in like I'm water, like my body was made just for him.

"Do you like them?" I whisper, a sliver of self consciousness suddenly sinking in.

Edward lifted his head, his eyes meeting mine with a mix of desire and tenderness. "Like them? Bella, I adore them. I adore every inch of you," he said, his voice husky with emotion.

His hands continued to explore my body, leaving trails of heat wherever they touched. I shivered as his fingers traced the curve of my waist, dipping lower to the waistband of my jeans. With a questioning look, he unbuttoned them, slowly sliding the zipper down.

I lifted my hips, allowing him to peel the denim away, leaving me in just my underwear. Edward's eyes roamed over my body, his gaze so intense I could almost feel it like a physical touch.

"You're perfect," he breathed, leaning down to press a soft kiss to my stomach. "So incredibly perfect."

My legs go slack, opening for him in excitement.

"Do you know how incredible you are?" he asked softly, his eyes still locked on mine. "I didn't even know what I was missing until you walked into my life. I just know I never want to go back to how things were before you."

His words hit me like a tidal wave, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe. How could he say things like that, make me feel like I was worth more than the sum of my fears and insecurities? I swallowed hard, feeling the familiar fear creep up my spine—the fear of what he'd think if he knew, if he found out about the cancer

I reached for his face, memorising the feel of his stubble against my fingers, the way his eyes softened when he looked at me. "You make me feel like I'm not broken," I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Edward's eyes darkened with emotion, and he shook his head slightly. "You're not broken, Bella. Not to me."

The sudden wave of nausea came from nowhere, hitting me like a stack of bricks.

I sit up abruptly, my body trembling, my skin slick with a cold sweat. Panic gripped me as I tried to steady my breathing, but the room spun wildly around me, and my hands shook uncontrollably.

"Bella?" Edward's voice was filled with concern as he reached out to steady me, his eyes searching mine. "What's wrong? Talk to me, please."

I wanted to hide, to disappear into the floor and take this whole embarrassing episode with me. Not now. Please not now.

I could see the worry on his face, and it made everything worse. I tried to force a smile, to downplay it, but my vision blurred, and my breath came out in ragged gasps.

"Hey, you're okay," Edward said, his touch gentle as he rubbed my back. "You're just a little off balance, that's all. Maybe you're dehydrated, or—"

I shook my head, my throat tight as the fear and frustration bubbled up inside me. "Edward, I'm fine. Just—let me handle it."

"You're not fine, Bella. You're sweating, and you're shaking like a leaf," he insisted, his voice turning more urgent. "I'm serious—we need to get you to a hospital. You shouldn't mess around with this."

"No!" I snapped, more forcefully than I meant to, and the sharpness of my voice made him pause, his brows drawing together in confusion. "I don't need a hospital, Edward. Just let it go."

"Bella," he said, his voice cracking slightly as he tried to keep calm. "Please, just let me help you. Let's go to the ER."

"I don't need a hospital," I said again, my voice shaking now, more desperate, more broken, more furious with the betrayal of my body.

"They won't do anything because I have cancer, Edward!" I'd shouted it, angry at myself.

The words fell out of me, raw and painful, like an open wound I'd been hiding from the world. I watched his face, the way the realisation dawned on him slowly, his eyes widening with shock, his mouth opening and closing as if he was searching for something to say. And then, when it finally hit him, he looked shattered.

"Cancer?" he echoed, his voice barely a whisper, the word seeming to hang in the air between us, heavy and unmovable.

The silence that followed was deafening. I could hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears as I watched Edward's face, trying to decipher his reaction. His eyes were wide, filled with a mix of shock, confusion, and something that looked painfully like pity.

"Bella," he finally said, his voice cracking. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I looked away, unable to meet his gaze. The shame and guilt I'd been carrying for weeks crashed over me like a tidal wave. "I... I couldn't," I whispered. "I didn't want you to see me differently. To treat me like I was fragile or broken."

Edward's hand found mine, his grip gentle but firm. "Look at me," he said softly. When I didn't move, he cupped my chin, turning my face towards him. "Bella, please look at me."

I couldn't hold back anymore. The tears came rushing out, unstoppable, and I covered my face with my hands, choking on the sobs that racked my body.

Edward's arms came around me in an instant, wrapping me up in the safest, warmest embrace I'd ever felt. He held me so tightly I could hardly breathe, but I didn't want him to let go. I needed his strength. I needed to know he wasn't running.

"Shh, it's okay," Edward murmured, his voice soothing as he stroked my hair. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

I clung to him, burying my face in his chest as the tears continued to fall. His shirt was getting soaked, but he didn't seem to care. He just held me, rocking me gently, his lips pressing soft kisses to the top of my head.

"I'm sorry," I choked out between sobs. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you."

Edward pulled back slightly, just enough to look into my eyes. His own were red-rimmed and glistening with unshed tears. "Bella, you have nothing to be sorry for," he said firmly. "I just... I wish I had known. I wish I could have been there for you from the beginning."

"I didn't want to drag you into this mess," I whispered, still hiding my face against his chest. "I didn't want to be the reason you changed your life. I didn't want to be your burden."

Edward pulled back slightly, cupping my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him. His eyes were fierce, blazing with emotion, filled with something that both scared me and gave me hope. "You listen to me, Isabella Swan," he said, his voice low and intense. "You are not a burden. You could never be a burden to me. Not now, not ever."

"But Edward," I protested weakly, my voice cracking. "You don't understand how hard this is going to be. It's going to be ugly, and painful, and I don't want you to see me like that. You travel to your games to live out the dreams you deserve and I don't want you to question if being by my side is where you should be instead. I don't want to disrupt everything you've built."

Edward's grip on my face tightened slightly, his eyes blazing with an intensity that took my breath away. "Bella, listen to me," he said, his voice low and firm. "My dreams mean nothing without you in them. Do you understand? Nothing."

He took a deep breath, his thumbs gently wiping away my tears. "I don't care how hard it gets. I don't care how ugly or painful it might be. I want to be there for all of it. For every moment, good or bad."

His words washed over me, and I felt something inside me begin to crumble. The walls I'd built, the fears I'd harboured - they all started to fall away under the weight of his unwavering gaze.

"But your career," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Your life..."

Edward shook his head, a small, sad smile playing.

"You are my life," his eyes are teary, "fuck that little ice brick."

I'm unable to fight back the laughter through my tears.

"Bella," he said softly, almost like he was afraid to ask the next question. "How long have you known? How long has this been going on?"

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat nearly choking me. "A few weeks," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "It's slow-growing, they said, but… it's incurable. It's stage four Follicular Lymphoma."

His face fell, the colour draining from his cheeks as he processed my words. "Incurable?" he repeated, his voice cracking. "Follicular Lymphoma? What does that mean? I mean, are they… are they treating it? What are they doing for you?"

I bit my lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over again. "Chemotherapy. Medications," I said, my hands trembling as I wiped at my face. "To keep it in check. Best-case scenario, I go into remission again, and I just keep doing this cycle whenever it comes back. It could cut my life expectancy though."

"And what about… your prognosis?" he asked, his voice so soft it almost broke me. "What did they say? How much time do you have?"

I looked away, my gaze drifting to the wall because looking into his eyes was too much—it hurt too much. "They can't really say," I answered, my voice cracking. "It could be years. I could go into remission and live a full life, or it could come back aggressively. They don't know. If I stayed on my current trajectory for long term… maybe 10 years if I'm very lucky."

"I didn't want you to see me like this. I didn't want you to pity me. I didn't want to be the sick girl," my voice cracks, "I wanted to be… I wanted to be the girl who made you smile. The one who made you laugh."

Edward's face softened, and he pulled me into him again, his arms wrapping around me like a shield, protecting me from the world. "You are still that girl, Bella," he said, his voice fierce with emotion. "You still make me smile. You still make me laugh. And none of that changes just because you're fighting this. If anything, it makes you even more incredible to me. You're my hero, baby."

I buried my face in his chest, letting his words wash over me, feeling the warmth of his love surrounding me. He wasn't running. He wasn't turning away. He was here, holding me through the storm, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I didn't have to face this alone.