AN: Thanks everyone! One more chapter after this one... can y'all believe they made it?!

And only one more cringey TikTok to get through! Lol.

January 9th, 6:20 AM

Heading east to Pensacola Beach, FL

The last leg of our road trip kicked off early, the sun rising behind us as we drove east. After a quick coffee run and a mutual agreement that we'd get a real breakfast after a few hours on the road, Edward and I found our rhythm—him humming along to the playlist, me with my legs tucked beneath me, flipping through photos from the last few days.

By late morning, we reached Pensacola Beach, its powdery white sand stretching out before us like a postcard come to life. The water sparkled under the sun, shifting between shades of turquoise and emerald, and I couldn't help but sigh at how perfect it all looked.

"This was a good idea," I admitted as Edward parked the car.

"Of course it was," he teased, smirking as he grabbed our bag of essentials. "You're with me."

We wandered along the beach, our shoes forgotten in the car as the soft sand cushioned our steps. A gentle breeze carried the scent of salt and sunscreen, and we passed clusters of beachgoers lounging under colorful umbrellas.

"Let's find some shells," I suggested, veering toward the tide line where waves lapped at the shore.

Edward followed, bending to pick up a jagged shell and holding it up for me to inspect. "What do you think? Good enough for your fancy jar?"

I squinted at it. "It's got character. Keep it."

We meandered along the beach for nearly an hour, occasionally pausing to admire the shells we found—or to tease each other when one of us picked up something ridiculous.

"Look, it's a tiny crab claw," Edward said, holding up a minuscule white fragment.

"That's not going in the jar," I deadpanned.

"It's symbolic," he argued, grinning. "You know, strength and resilience."

"It's gross."

Edward chuckled, pocketing it anyway. "Fine. I'll keep it as my trophy."

When our stomachs started growling, we approached a friendly woman sitting near her cooler on a brightly striped towel. Her name was Emily, and after a quick chat about the area, she recommended a local seafood shack a few streets down.

"You have to get the grouper sandwiches," Emily insisted. "And fries. Trust me, it's life-changing."

The seafood shack was every bit as good as promised. We snagged a picnic table under a shady umbrella and devoured our sandwiches, the tangy tartar sauce dripping down our fingers.

Edward eyed my fries with interest, a telltale glint in his eyes.

"Don't even think about it," I warned, shoving a fry into my mouth for emphasis.

He grinned and casually stole one anyway, popping it into his mouth with a wink. "I was thinking about it. Now I'm doing it."

"You bitch," I muttered, swiping one of his hush puppies in retaliation, and he laughed.

After lunch, we wandered back to the car, the ocean breeze still clinging to our skin. I cradled our jar of collected shells like it was a treasure chest, and Edward carried what remained of his drink—because apparently, he's physically incapable of finishing a single beverage.

As we reached the car, Edward unlocked it with a quick beep, tossing his drink in the cup holder as his phone started buzzing in the console. Alice's name popped up on the screen.

"Wanna get that?" Edward asked as he slid into the driver's seat. "I'm curious to hear what she's spiraling about this time."

I smirked, hopping into the passenger seat and answering the call. "Hey, Alice. What's going on?"

"Oh my God, Bella," she started, her voice practically exploding through the speaker. "Have you seriously not checked your TikTok today?"

I blinked, already sensing this was going to be a thing. "Uh, no? Why? Should I be scared?"

"You should be shook," Alice corrected, and I could practically hear her pacing. "Open the app. Right now. You're not ready."

I shot Edward a confused look as I fished out my phone. "Alice, if this is about one of your astrology memes, I swear—"

"Bella, open it," she insisted, and something in her tone made me hurry. I tapped the app, and the second it loaded, my jaw nearly hit the dashboard.

Notifications. Thousands of them. The little red bubble in the corner wasn't just full—it was screaming.

"Holy shit," I whispered. My voice rose. "Edward. Edward, what the actual fuck?"

His brows lifted as he leaned toward me, glancing at the screen. "What happened? Did someone cancel you? I knew there was too much hip thrusting in the video."

"Our TikTok," I said, ignoring him and scrolling through the endless notifications. "It's viral. Like…stupidly viral. One-point-two million views. Over three hundred thousand likes."

Edward let out a low whistle, leaning back in his seat with a smug grin. "Guess I've got a future in social media stardom."

"Oh, please," I muttered, still scrolling. The comments section was a wild ride. "'Who's the hot guy? Asking for myself.'" I snorted. "God, the internet is predictable."

Edward smirked. "Well, they're notwrong."

I ignored him, reading another comment aloud. "'She's so cool. If they're not married, I'm starting a petition.'" I burst out laughing. "Married? Imagine us tying the knot just for TikTok clout."

"I'd do it," Edward said easily, and I froze, glancing at him with a mix of disbelief and amusement.

"You're joking," I said flatly.

"Maybe," he replied with a playful shrug, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a grin. "But you're also the one who said you'd do it to prank our family, so."

Before I could respond, Alice's voice crackled back into the call. "You guys. This one is my favorite. 'Edward is giving main-character energy, but Bella is the secret badass everyone's obsessed with.' Like, yes! Finally, the world gets it."

"Oh my God," I groaned, laughing despite myself. "Alice, you're encouraging them."

"Duh," she said. "Now, when are you posting the next one? Your adoring fans demand content."

Edward leaned over, speaking loudly toward the phone. "Tell them to subscribe. We're thinking of starting a or OnlyFans."

"Stop!" I hissed, swatting him as Alice cackled.

"You're a natural," she said approvingly. "Anyway, don't forget about your favorite sister-in-law when you get famous."

"We're not famous," I muttered, but Alice was already talking over me.

"Okay, I'm letting you go because my boss is glaring at me to get off the phone, but Bella, you better post an update soon. Love you, bye!"

The call ended abruptly, and I tossed my phone onto the dash, leaning back with a dramatic sigh. "Alice is a menace."

"True," Edward agreed, reaching over to take my hand as he started the car. "But she's got a point. We're basically TikTok royalty now."

I rolled my eyes but smiled, squeezing his hand as we pulled back onto the road. "If you start selling merch, I'm filing for divorce before we're even married."

"Noted," he said, grinning.

January 9th, 6:01 PM

Castillo de San Marcos, St. Augustine, FL

The sun was just starting its slow descent as we pulled into St. Augustine, the charming, historical vibes of the town washing over us instantly. Cobblestone streets, colonial architecture, and an endless supply of photo-worthy spots made it feel like we'd stepped into a different time.

Our first stop was the Castillo de San Marcos, its weathered stone walls standing proudly against the glimmering blue of the bay. The breeze carried the salty tang of the ocean, and seagulls squawked overhead as we approached.

"Want a picture?" an older gentleman asked, spotting us as we awkwardly fumbled with the camera timer on my phone. He had kind eyes, a wide-brimmed hat, and an air of someone who'd spent his life soaking up stories.

"That'd be great, thanks," Edward said, handing over my phone.

The man, who introduced himself as Mr. Reynolds, had us stand with the fortress looming in the background. He adjusted the angle several times, muttering about "getting the light just right," before finally snapping a few shots.

"Perfect," he said, handing the phone back. "You kids sure make a handsome couple."

I smiled, glancing at the photos. "Thank you so much! These are amazing."

"You're welcome," he said, tipping his hat. "I've been coming here since I was a boy. There's history in every stone of this place. Did you know it's the oldest masonry fort in the continental U.S.?"

Edward's eyes lit up, his inner nerd awakening. "I did. They used coquina to build it, right? That soft limestone with shells."

"That's right!" Mr. Reynolds said, clearly impressed. "Coquina absorbs cannon fire instead of shattering. Brilliant, isn't it?"

I smiled, watching the two of them nerd out over historical fortification techniques. When Edward and Mr. Reynolds finally wrapped up their conversation, we thanked him again and made our way down the waterfront path, the Castillo behind us and the golden light of the evening stretching ahead.

As we walked, I turned to Edward with a mischievous grin. "I've got an idea."

He groaned immediately. "No. Whatever it is, no."

"Come on!" I said, bumping his shoulder. "It's just one more TikTok."

Edward groaned again, this time louder. "Bella. The last one went viral. Do you know how many people have seen me dancing like an idiot? Too many."

"That's why this one will be even better," I said, pulling out my phone. "It's the La La La one. We're only going to mildly look crazy."

"Absolutely not," Edward said flatly. "We're in public."

I pouted, stepping closer to him. "Come on, Cullen. You've already gone viral once. What's one more?"

He crossed his arms, unmoved. "Nope. Not happening."

I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes as an idea formed. "Okay, fine. I guess no TikTok means no sexy rewards later."

His brows shot up, his resolve cracking. "That's coercion."

"Really good coercion," I replied, my grin widening. "So… do we have a deal?"

Edward sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck like he was making the biggest sacrifice of his life. "That's evil, Bella."

"Just a little."

He shook his head, finally relenting. "Fine. But you owe me."

We found a slightly tucked-away spot near the Castillo, with just enough space to set up the phone without too many passersby stopping to stare. As much as Edward liked to tease me about loving attention, he was the one who squirmed under an audience.

"Okay," I said, pulling out my phone and fiddling with the timer, trying to keep a straight face. "Here's the plan. We switch spots with every line. Hit pause, switch, and—this is key—keep a straight face."

Edward crossed his arms, eyebrows raised. "Keep a straight face? Have you seen the choreography you're expecting me to do?"

"You're doing this for love," I teased, stepping into the background. "And also because I promised you very compelling incentives."

His mouth twitched, a reluctant smile threatening to break through. "Love and coercion," he muttered. "The foundation of all great relationships."

"Exactly." I grinned, hitting record as I stepped into my starting position in the background. "Now focus, Cullen. Showtime."

The music started, and as the first lyrics played—"About your new messiah, 'cause your theories catch fire."—I launched into a horrific blend of the Running Man and the Sprinkler, arms flailing with just enough rhythm to look intentional. It was objectively awful, and it took every ounce of self-control not to break into laughter.

Edward hit pause, his face a picture of exaggerated suffering. "I cannot believe I'm participating in this."

"You're doing amazing, sweetie," I said, blowing him a kiss as we swapped places.

Edward stepped into the background while I moved to the front. The next line played:
"I can't find your silver lining."

With an air of exaggerated anguish, I clutched my chest, stepping side to side with deep, soulful energy. Behind me, Edward was absolutely unhinged, hands covering his face as he swung his hips and twirled in a circle, his movements jerky yet on beat.

We paused again, trading spots, and Edward moved to the front. He was ready for the next line, his face set in deadly seriousness:
"I don't mean to judge."

He pointed dramatically at the camera, shaking his head as if passing a grim verdict. In the background, I twirled like a ballet dancer who'd just forgotten all her training, throwing in a few spins that left me dizzy.

I moved back to the front, my facial expression comical as I lip synced,"But when you read your speech, it's tiring, enough is enough."

For the final lyric, we both stayed in the foreground."I'm covering my ears like a kid. When your words mean nothing, I go "La, la, la."

Our hands clamped over our ears as we bopped our heads from side to side, then broke into more ridiculous dancing. It involved me spinning a bit too wildly, right into Edward, where he caught me as we both laughed uncontrollably.

The recording stopped and I hoped over to the phone, replaying it back. After a few tweaks, it was a surprisingly good turn out and I showed it to Edward, who laughed despite his ears flaming red.

"You're unhinged," he snorted, rubbing the back of his neck. I quickly kissed him, murmuring teasingly, "Yeah, unhinged for you."

January 9th, 10:31 PM

Charlie's house in Apalachicola, FL

The Subaru groaned to a stop in Charlie's driveway, its engine finally silenced after what felt like a thousand miles. I slumped back against the seat, letting out a long, tired sigh as I stretched my legs. The faint crick in my neck protested the movement, but I couldn't bring myself to care. We were here. We'd made it. After hours upon hours of endless highway, truck stop coffee, and a million debates about who was the worst backseat driver, we were finally home.

Beside me, Edward let out a similar sigh, his fingers rubbing at his temples. "If I never see I-10 again, it'll be too soon."

I snorted, glancing at him. His hair was an unkempt mess from running his hands through it all day, and his shirt was wrinkled beyond saving. He looked as exhausted as I felt, but the way his lips curved into a small, satisfied smile made my chest warm. We were both running on fumes, but we'd done it together. And honestly? That made it worth it.

On the porch, Charlie stood waiting, leaning against the railing with his arms crossed. The porch light cast a golden glow around him, making him look like some kind of weary saint. His wide grin, however, was all dad.

"Well, look who finally made it!" he called as we climbed out of the car. "Did the Subaru turn into a golf cart somewhere in Louisiana, or were you sightseeing every blade of grass along the way?"

I laughed, the sound more breathy than usual as I shuffled up the steps toward him. "Hey, Dad," I said, wrapping my arms around him. The familiar smell of coffee and aftershave hit me instantly, and my shoulders sagged a little as the stress of the road melted away. "It's good to be home."

Charlie hugged me back, squeezing tight before pulling away to give me a once-over. "You look tired, kid."

"Because I am tired," I replied, half-laughing. "That was… a long drive."

Behind me, Edward wrestled with the car door, lugging two duffel bags out of the backseat. He looked up, offering Charlie a tired but genuine smile. "She's not exaggerating. We've been on the road since sunrise."

Charlie stepped down from the porch and reached for one of the bags. "Give me that, son. You both look like you've been run over by a truck."

Edward handed the bag over without protest, brushing his messy hair out of his face. "Thanks, sir. And yeah, it was a day."

Charlie shot me a mock-conspiratorial look as we followed him inside. "Did she make you drive the whole way?"

"Not the whole way," Edward replied, smirking as he adjusted the strap of the remaining bag. "She took a couple shifts, but I'll admit I had to bribe her with road snacks."

"Sounds about right." Charlie's grin widened as he set the bag down just inside the door. "You've been a handful since birth, you know that, Bella?"

"Gee, thanks, Dad," I muttered, rolling my eyes as Edward muffled a laugh behind me.

Charlie clapped his hands together. "Alright, let's get the rest of your stuff inside. I've got lasagna still warm in the oven and beer in the fridge—unless you're still on that fancy water kick, Edward."

Edward smirked, hoisting the last bag over his shoulder. "I'll take the beer. I think we've earned it."

"Good man," Charlie said approvingly, leading us into the house.

The familiar scent of garlic and tomato sauce hit me as soon as we stepped inside, and I nearly groaned in relief. The cozy warmth of Charlie's house wrapped around me like a blanket, and for the first time all day, I let myself relax. Home. Finally.

Later, after we'd demolished the lasagna and Edward had effortlessly charmed Charlie with his knowledge of Apalachicola's fishing spots, I found myself retreating to my old room. The space was just as I'd left it—soft, cozy, and filled with remnants of my childhood. The papasan chair in the corner creaked softly as I settled into it, Edward's leather-bound journal resting on my lap.

The journal had become part of my comfort space, his handwriting a tangible reminder of the way he expressed things he didn't always say out loud. I traced the worn edges of the cover before flipping through the familiar pages, letting the words wrap around me like a warm blanket.

Then I stopped, my gaze catching on an entry I hadn't seen before. The words were deeply personal, as though they'd been written in a moment of vulnerability. Warmth spread throughout my chest as I read.

I was so lost in his thoughts that I didn't hear the bathroom door open or the quiet padding of Edward's footsteps down the hall. The sound of the door clicking shut startled me, and I looked up, a smile already forming as I saw him.

The shirt he wore was loose and rumpled, clinging slightly where his skin was still damp from the shower, and his hair, soft and unruly, was curling in places where the steam had lingered. His green eyes, tired yet warm, softened the second they met mine.

Without a word, Edward crossed the room in a few easy steps. When he reached me, he leaned down, his lips brushing lightly against my bare shoulder. His touch was warm, sending a gentle shiver down my spine as he lingered there, breathing me in.

"What are you reading?" he murmured, his voice low, almost husky.

I tilted the journal up slightly, unable to hide the smile tugging at my lips. "Something familiar to you, I think."

He chuckled softly, the sound deep and soothing. His gaze flickered to the page in my hands, and a slow, knowing smile curved his lips. "That one," he murmured, his voice quiet as if speaking the words too loudly would disturb the moment. "I almost didn't write it."

"I'm glad you did," I said softly, my thumb brushing over the ink.

Edward knelt in front of the chair, his hands braced on either side of me as he leaned closer. His gaze locked on mine. "Read it to me," I whispered.

He took the journal gently from my hands, holding it like it was something sacred. His deep voice filled the quiet as he began to read aloud:

"Sometimes, I think she's sunlight. The way she turns her face to the warmth, the way her laughter feels like summer days long gone. She is what I didn't know I was waiting for. And in her orbit, I've finally learned how to breathe."

The words, spoken in his voice, felt like they had weight—like they were meant to be heard this way. My chest tightened as I reached out, my hand resting lightly against his cheek. The vulnerability in his expression, the quiet way he let me see him fully, unraveled me.

I didn't think, just acted. My fingers curled gently around the back of his neck as I leaned forward, lips brushing against his in a kiss that started soft but deepened almost instantly.

Edward shifted, one hand sliding to the small of my back as the other cradled my jaw. He kissed me with the kind of unhurried intensity that left me breathless, as though he had all the time in the world to make me feel every ounce of what he was trying to say.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine. We were both breathing harder, the air between us charged with something warm and electric. His green eyes searched mine, his voice low and teasing as he murmured, "I love you, Bella. But I'm not fucking you with your dad and his gun collection just down the hall."

The breathless laugh that escaped me was instant, my cheeks heating as I swatted his shoulder lightly. "I admire your restraint," I teased, my voice shaky with lingering laughter.

His own laugh was low and soft, the sound vibrating against me. "Trust me," he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face, "it's taking every ounce of it."

My heart swelled, and I grinned up at him, my fingers tracing the curve of his jaw. "Good to know you're only human," I whispered, pulling him into another kiss. This one was slower, deeper, lingering with the kind of quiet intensity that made the world around us fade into nothing.

Edward's arms wrapped around me, lifting me effortlessly as he shifted us toward the bed. I laughed, startled at how easily he managed it, like I weighed nothing. "Show-off," I muttered, poking his shoulder as he set me down.

"I am very strong, Bella," he replied, flexing one arm in the worst imitation of a bodybuilder I'd ever seen. "Haven't you heard? I lift girlfriends now."

I rolled my eyes, but my laughter betrayed me. "Wow. So romantic. Please, tell me more about your unparalleled strength."

He smirked, leaning over me as he braced himself on his elbows. "You're the one who insists on testing it every time we're near a couch, bed, or particularly soft patch of grass."

"That was one time!" I protested, my cheeks warming as his grin widened.

"And yet, it's burned into my memory," he said, his voice dropping to that teasing, low register that always made my pulse flutter. "I should write it in the journal. 'June 14th: Bella thought I was her personal mattress.'"

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. "I can't with you. You're so fucking impossible."

His lips pressed against my fingers, gently prying them away so I had no choice but to look at him. His teasing melted into something softer, something warm and steady. "Impossible for you to resist, maybe," he murmured, brushing his nose against mine.

"Oh, absolutely," I said dryly, though my traitorous heart betrayed me with how it pounded in my chest.

Edward smiled, his hand finding its way to my cheek. He tilted my face up, his thumb brushing lightly along my jawline. "See? You admit it."

"Shut up and kiss me before I start thinking about your stupid flexing again," I grumbled, but my words were cut off when his lips met mine.

The kiss started slow, a careful exploration that made my toes curl. But as always with Edward, it didn't stay slow for long. His hand slid down my back, pulling me closer, and his lips softened into a smile against mine.

I pulled back slightly, catching my breath. "You're smiling. What are you thinking about?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Just wondering how this chair hasn't completely fallen apart yet. It looks like it's seen a lot of life."

I laughed, nudging his shoulder. "Hey, that's rude! This chair is a family heirloom."

"Family heirloom?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Let me guess—generations of Swans have lounged in this, solving mysteries and contemplating life?"

"Something like that," I said, grinning. "Or it's just the chair I've had since high school because my dad refuses to throw anything out."

"I don't know. I think it has character. Feels like it belongs in a museum."

"A museum for what?" I asked, rolling my eyes. "Chaotic teenage bedrooms?"

"Exactly," he said, grinning. "You should give it a plaque. 'The Throne of Bella Swan: Where great procrastination and questionable snack choices happened.'"

I couldn't help but laugh, resting my forehead against his. "You're so dumb."

He shrugged, his smirk softening into a smile. "Maybe. But I like learning these little things about you. Even if it's just an old chair."

His voice had softened, and my teasing faded as I realized he meant it. I felt my chest tighten, warmth spreading through me. "You really like the chair that much, huh?" I whispered, my voice tinged with playfulness but edged with something deeper.

"I really like you that much," he said simply, his thumb brushing against my jawline. His honesty caught me off guard in the best way, and before I could respond, he leaned in again, kissing me softly, his hands anchoring me like I was the only thing that mattered.

"I love you," I whispered when we pulled back, threading my hands through his hair.

"And I love you," he replied, his voice soft but tinged with mischief. "Even when you make me do TikTok dances in public."

I groaned, hiding my face in his chest as he laughed. But when he kissed me again—warm and steady, with just enough teasing to make my heart race—I knew I wouldn't have it any other way. This was us—silly, messy, and completely in love.

And it was perfect.