Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer
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Where the Lines Overlap
Final Season - We are Broken
Lucky (I'm In Love with My Best Friend)
Sunday night settled quietly over the house. The kids had been asleep for hours, and the halls lay in silence. In my room, Edward and I kept our own sounds contained.
Lying on his side, Edward pressed into the mattress, and I lay behind him, molding my body to his. My forehead rested against the warm skin of his shoulder blades, my fingers tightening around his hip bone as I moved inside him, slow and deep.
Edward pushed back against me, meeting each thrust with a quiet whimper that sent heat curling through my spine. I let out a ragged grunt, burying myself in him to the hilt and stilling, feeling him pulse around me. Edward whined softly at the pause as my lips brushed over the shell of his ear.
"I need to see you," I murmured.
Edward's breath hitched.
"How do you want me?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
"Ride me."
He eased away as I pulled out, both of us groaning softly at the loss of contact. The moment I sat up against the headboard, Edward straddled my lap in one smooth motion, one of his hands gripping my shoulder as he guided me into position, aligning us. He held me in place, then sank down onto me, taking me inside slowly as he let out a shuddering breath, his head tipping back.
"Fuck," I rasped. My hands ran up his thighs, gripping his hips. "You're too fucking hot and sexy."
Edward smirked, rolling his hips just enough to make me gasp.
"And you're delicious," he murmured, voice dripping with sin. "You feel insanely good inside me."
I surged forward, catching his mouth in a desperate kiss, swallowing his moans as he moved over me. I was close—too close. He must've felt it because his hand drifted between us, reaching for himself. But I caught his wrist, brushing it away.
"Let me touch you," I whispered against his lips.
He shivered under my touch as I took over, working him in time with my thrusts. It only took a couple of minutes before he clenched around me, muffling a broken cry into my neck. The sensation pushed me over the edge, and I came with a low, guttural groan, holding him tight against me as pleasure crashed over us.
Edward slumped forward, chest heaving against mine, his arms wrapping around my shoulders. He pressed a slow kiss to my shoulder, then another to my neck, before cupping my face and brushing his lips over mine. I tilted my head back, eyes meeting his, and the words came without hesitation.
"I love you."
His expression softened as I kissed the ink over his heart. Edward smiled, kissing my face—my cheek, my jaw, the corner of my mouth.
"I love you more."
For a moment, we both stilled. The weight of those words—of the history they carried—settled between us, heavy but welcome. I smiled knowingly, and he returned the sentiment before we kissed again, slow and deep.
Eventually, I pulled away with a breath.
"Shower."
We cleaned up together, moving easily around each other under the warm spray, stealing slow kisses as we rinsed off. We returned to the bedroom, drying ourselves off, and by the time I was pulling my pajama shirt over my head, I noticed Edward fastening his jeans.
I sat on the bed, watching him, feeling something heavy settle in my chest. I didn't want him to go.
It had been over two years since Mark's passing. For over six months, Edward and I had been seeing each other. I had even bought a new bed for us. And still, I hadn't let him stay.
Why was I holding back?
I sighed.
"Stay."
Edward glanced at me, easy smile in place.
"Jazz, it's past eleven. I know you need to sleep. If it was earlier, I'd stay longer—"
I exhaled slowly.
"I want you to spend the night."
His smile faltered slightly, eyes searching mine. I knew what he was thinking—this had never happened before. Not here. Because of the kids.
He nodded, then picked up his phone, and I frowned.
"What are you doing?"
"Setting an alarm for before six," he said. "So I don't keep you from waking the kids on time."
I stood and took the phone from his hand, placing it on the bedside table before looking at him seriously.
"I want you to wake up with me. Not before they do. Not to rush out before they see you." I swallowed, keeping my voice steady. "I want you to stay. And in the morning, during breakfast, we'll tell them about us."
Edward's brows lifted slightly, but I kept going.
"We can take the kids to school together," I said. "After that, I'll drop you off at your place before heading to the hospital. I'm off by six, so I can pick you up and take you to the hospital in time for your shift before I go get the kids from Emmelle's."
I raised a hand to his jaw, scratching softly at his stubble as he listened attentively.
"Then, on Wednesday, I can pick you up at the hospital after your shift and bring you back here for breakfast with the kids. When I take them to school, you can drive home." I smiled softly. "Or… you could stay. Spend your day off here. Wait for me to come home later." I shrugged. "What do you think?"
His lips parted slightly, surprise flickering over his face before something else settled there—something warm and soft. He seemed pleased. Then he smiled, shaking his head.
"I'm still amazed that you keep track of my shifts better than I do."
I smirked.
"I'm an attentive boyfriend."
He raised an eyebrow.
"So you're telling me you aren't using your position at the hospital to access my schedule?"
I chuckled.
"I'm not," I said, laughing lightly. "Keira is a very efficient assistant."
Edward let out a laugh, but then his expression sobered just a little.
"Are you sure?" he asked, quiet but certain.
I nodded.
"It's time."
His smile returned, and he leaned in to kiss me, slow and deep. My hands slid to his waistband, unbuttoning his jeans, and he pulled back just enough to glance down before raising an eyebrow at me.
"Since you're staying…" I murmured, voice dropping lower.
He huffed a laugh.
"You can't get enough, can you?"
I pulled him closer, lips brushing against his.
"No," I said simply. "I can't get enough of you."
His breath hitched, but he didn't resist—he never did. He just let me take him apart, over and over, until neither of us could move, until the night blurred into heat and tangled limbs.
By the time we finally drifted off, only a couple of hours remained before my alarm would go off, pulling me from sleep to wake the kids and start the day.
…
The moment Noah and Leighton came downstairs and found Edward setting the table for breakfast, their happiness had been unmistakable. Noah had let out an excited squeal, and both of them had rushed forward to hug him, their arms wrapping around him with a tenderness that made something in my chest tighten.
Leighton, sharp as ever, had pulled back first, tilting her head as she looked seriously at him.
"Did you sleep here?" She asked.
Edward had glanced at me, and after I gave him a single nod, he took a quiet breath before answering.
"Yes."
Leighton had turned her gaze back to me then, studying me for a beat before a knowing smile curved her lips. And now, we were all gathered around the table, eating while Noah filled every available moment with an excited ramble about his new video game, barely pausing to take a breath.
I let the moment stretch, enjoying the warmth of the morning before I drew in a slow breath. When Noah finally paused to take a sip of his juice, I took my chance.
"There's something I want to talk to you about," I said, setting my fork down. I glanced between them. "What do you two think about me having a boyfriend?"
Noah didn't even hesitate.
"Only if it's Uncle Eddy."
I turned my head slightly, catching the way Edward's posture shifted beside me. He was looking down at his plate, oddly shy in a way I wasn't used to seeing. Then I looked at Leighton. She wasn't as quick to answer. Instead, she studied me, her gaze unreadable in a way that reminded me so much of Mark it nearly caught me off guard.
Then, at last, she spoke.
"That would be okay," she said slowly. "But only if it's Uncle Eddy."
A pause.
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced between Edward and me, something clicking into place in her mind.
"Daddy," she said, her voice certain now, "you and Uncle Eddy are already dating, aren't you?"
I froze for just a second.
When I glanced at Edward, he had lifted his gaze, his attention now fully on Leighton. Noah was looking between the three of us, his anticipation obvious.
I took another breath before nodding.
"Yes," I said simply. "Uncle Eddy and I are dating."
Before I could gauge their full reaction, Edward spoke, his voice quiet but certain.
"I love your father," he told them, his tone softer than I expected. "Is it okay if I date him?"
Leighton's lips twitched before she smiled, nodding. Noah's whole head bobbed with enthusiasm. It didn't take long before his excitement took over again.
"So are you gonna marry Uncle Eddy now?" he asked me eagerly.
I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything, Leighton turned to him, sighing as if she had just accepted the burden of being the only reasonable person at the table.
"That's not how it works, Noah," she said with the kind of patience only an older sibling could have. "Daddy will date Uncle Eddy for some time, then they'll get engaged, and only after some more time, they'll get married. That takes time because it's forever."
Noah turned to me, frowning slightly.
"Is that true?"
I smiled, nodding.
"Something like that."
Edward, ever the tease, leaned in slightly, his voice warm with amusement.
"Don't worry, buddy," he said, smirking. "I'll make things happen faster. Daddy just needs a little convincing."
I let out a soft huff of laughter, shaking my head, but I didn't miss the way Noah giggled or the small chuckle that slipped from Leighton.
Without thinking, I reached for Edward's hand, curling my fingers around his. He squeezed back, and when I looked at him, he was already smiling at me.
"Alright," I said, looking back at the kids. "You two need to finish eating, or we're gonna be late."
We carried on, easy and light, but as I sat there, watching them, I felt something settle deep inside me.
Edward and I were together. Our friends knew. Our families knew. My kids knew—and, more importantly, they approved.
Everything was finally in place.
My gaze dropped for a brief moment, and I reached for the locket resting against my chest, closing my fingers around it. Holding it tightly, I brought my hand to my heart.
Even Mark was here, right where he belonged.
.
.
.
The air smelled like pine and earth, crisp and unfiltered, filling my lungs as my heart pounded hard in my chest. Even blindfolded, I could feel the openness around me, the expanse of sky stretching wide above, the scent of the lake sharp and familiar in the cool breeze. I had a suspicion about where Edward had taken me, and the thought sent a rush of anticipation through my veins.
His hands were firm on my upper arms, a grounding presence behind me. I felt the warmth of his breath a second before his lips pressed gently to the back of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.
"I'm taking it off now," he whispered into my ear, his voice low, almost reverent.
I swallowed, my pulse thrumming in my throat.
"Okay," I murmured softly.
His fingers brushed against my skin as he untied the blindfold and pulled it away. The world rushed in all at once—the burst of color, the vastness of the sky reflected in water shimmering in the afternoon light, the towering trees standing just as they had all those years ago, their branches swaying as if greeting us.
The lake. Our old spot.
I sucked in a sharp breath.
It was exactly the same, yet it wasn't. The years had settled over it in quiet ways—the trees had grown taller, the water carried a different sheen under the afternoon sun—but the memories surged forward like they had been waiting just beneath the surface. Sitting on the rocks, legs touching slightly. Racing each other through the water. The quiet moments when we didn't have to say anything at all. The nights we had spent lying on a blanket under the stars, dreaming of futures we never thought would come. The stolen kisses.
Emotion welled in my chest, thick and overwhelming. I turned, stepping into Edward's arms without a word, pressing myself against him. He wrapped me up without hesitation, his arms tight around me, his breath warm against my temple. I closed my eyes, the past and present colliding in a dizzying rush. I clung to him, trying to steady the emotions inside me.
Edward tilted my face up, leaned down, and kissed me, deep and slow, like he knew exactly what this meant to me. When we parted, he turned me gently, his chin brushing my shoulder as he pointed toward the lake's shore.
"I set something up for us."
Nestled close to the water, a picnic was laid out on a thick, soft blanket—wine, fresh bread, fruit, cheese, little things he knew I loved. The sight of it made warmth bloom in my chest.
It had been a year. Exactly a whole year of us finding our way back to each other, of unraveling the past and piecing together something new. He had brought me here for that—to honor not just what we had, but what we were building.
We ate, we talked, we laughed. The sun shifted above us, filtering through the trees in golden streaks. It was easy, comfortable, the way it had always been when it was just the two of us. The air hummed with something deeper, though—a quiet understanding of all the steps that had led us here.
At one point, Edward sat up a little straighter, a shift in his posture that sent a flicker of curiosity through me.
"I have something for you," he said, his voice softer now, more serious.
I watched as he reached beside him, lifting a box. It was rectangular, made of copper metal, beautiful in its simplicity. My gaze caught on the engraving in the center of the lid—small, understated, but impossible to miss.
Forever.
A lump formed in my throat as I took it from his hands, the cool metal firm under my fingertips. Slowly, I lifted the lid.
Inside, a bundle of letters rested, wrapped carefully with a copper silk ribbon. My breath hitched as hesitation crept up my spine.
"Edward…"
He met my eyes, something solemn in his expression, but he said nothing—just watched me. My fingers trembled slightly as I untangled the ribbon and turned the first letter over.
And then I saw the handwriting.
Mark's handwriting.
The words written in ink stark against the paper, deliberate, waiting.
When you're healed
I stared, my chest tightening, a dull ache spreading through me. I looked up, meeting Edward's gaze, and found nothing but understanding there.
He inhaled deeply.
"At the hospital," he said, voice quiet, steady, "Mark talked to me." He exhaled, running a hand through his hair before continuing. "He made me promise that if something happened to him—if he didn't make it home—I would take care of you and the kids."
I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the letter.
Edward's eyes searched mine.
"And then, that night the kids visited him… when he asked me to stay—" He paused, something unspoken in his expression.
I understood. I nodded. I remembered. That moment, the way Mark had looked at him, at us.
Edward gave a small nod before continuing.
"He handed me these. Told me I should only give them to you if something happened. And then only once you were healed." He swallowed. "I asked him how I'd know when that was."
I could barely breathe.
"He said I would know." He took a breath, steadying himself. "That's why I'm giving them to you now." His voice softened, like he was speaking each word with deliberate care. "Because I know you're strong enough."
I blinked hard against the sting in my eyes and turned back to the letters.
Nine in total.
Three for Noah. Three for Leighton. Three for me.
Noah's and Leighton's were marked the same way:
At 16, Graduation, and When you miss me the most.
For me:
When you're healed, When you love again, and Whenever you miss me.
My throat tightened, a fresh wave of emotion surging through me.
Edward spoke again, his voice gentle.
"Mark said you would know the right moment to read each one."
I swallowed hard, my chest aching, and turned my attention back to the letter I held. The first one. The one that had led me here.
When you're healed
With careful fingers, I unfolded it. But as I did, something else slipped from inside. Another letter.
Not for me.
For Edward.
Surprise flickered between us as I turned it over, finding his name written in Mark's handwriting. I met Edward's gaze, and without hesitation, I handed it to him, watching his fingers shake slightly as he took it before turning back to my own.
My hands shook slightly as I unfolded the paper.
And then, I started to read.
Jasper,
my Moony, my Bae…
Love of my life.
If you're reading this, it means I'm not by your side anymore.
It's okay. I'm okay.
I'm not right there, flesh and bone with you. But I'm with you, in you, around you.
You don't even have to look around to see me. I know you feel me.
In the smallest things, like Noah's laugh and Leighton's eyeroll. In the way they go to you when you arrive home and in the way they hold you before you tuck them in at bedtime.
I'm also in the sunflowers we planted in our garden. And in the quiet corner of the deck porch at sunset, where we sat together to watch the sun go down countless times.
I know you miss me. I miss you too. So much.
But not seeing me doesn't mean you don't have me. And I know you know that.
By now, you have already found peace with my parting. By now, you look back and you can see me, see us, without it tearing you apart. That's good. Great, actually. It means you owned the strength you've always had inside you.
Also, by now, you have already found your way back to Edward.
I know it was a hard path. I know you struggled with accepting you could walk it.
And I know I don't need to tell you I'm okay with it, but I'm telling you anyway. I am okay with it. Truly.
Remember: Do not apologize for your feelings.
All I've ever wanted was to make you happy. And I got to accomplish that for nineteen years. Now I want you to be happy, even if I'm not the one making you happy.
Edward loves you. You know that better than anyone, I don't need to tell you that. But I'm acknowledging it. Because I know it's important to you.
Don't hold back because of me. Because of us. We had everything. We had our time. And it was so great and perfect.
Now it's your time. With Edward. Live it fully, Bae. Give it your all. You don't have to let go of us for it, I'll always be with you. But I'm not there anymore, so focus on your present and future.
Wherever I'm going from here, I'll be fine, I keep loving you more than anything. But you can't come with me, so stay. Really stay.
Be present, Jasper. Stay present.
And in the days you miss me too much, take some time to look inside and find me. I'll be there. But don't linger, okay, Moony? I don't want you to linger. I want you to live.
So live. For yourself.
I've had the most perfect life I could have ever dreamed of. Because of you.
I love you always.
Your Sunny, your Bae.
Love of your life.
Mark
I lowered the letter slowly, my fingers pressing against the paper as if I could still feel Mark in the ink, in the weight of his words. I let myself embrace what I'd kept locked away—the duality of his absence and presence within me, and the immeasurable love that permeated both.
A breath shuddered through me, but it didn't break me. I felt… lighter. I felt steadier in the love I had for Edward, in the love I was allowing myself to have for him.
When I looked at Edward, I found silent tears slipping down his face, catching in the golden light of the afternoon. His lips parted slightly as he blinked at me, and then he lowered his gaze, staring at the letter in his hands as if it were an extension of his heart, exposed and vulnerable.
"Mark gave me a letter too," he said, voice quiet but certain. "Back when he gave me these for you. He told me to read it only when you and I started finding our way back to each other."
My throat tightened, my fingers curling around my own letter. Edward swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing as he lifted his gaze back to mine.
"I've read it more times than I can count," he admitted. "Since we kissed, back when it had only been a little over a year." He exhaled shakily, a faint, watery smile touching his lips before fading. "In it, he… he blessed my love for you. And for the kids."
The wind stirred around us, rustling the leaves, the sound blending into the soft rush of the lake. Edward took a deep breath, his knuckles brushing over his cheeks as he wiped away his tears.
"But this letter—" he lifted the one I had just given him,"—this one is different. This one… he is talking to me about me."
I waited, my heartbeat steady in my chest. Edward's fingers curled slightly around the page, his gaze unfocused for a moment before locking onto mine again.
"He told me I need to own my worth. That I am worthy of your love."
A lump formed in my throat, thick and unyielding. I reached for him without thinking, my hand pressing over his where it rested on the blanket between us.
"You are," I told him, voice raw with certainty. "You are worthy."
His breath hitched, something fragile passing through his expression, and then I leaned in, pressing my lips to his. He sighed into it, his fingers twisting into my shirt as if grounding himself there, with me.
When we parted, I touched his face, my thumb tracing the line of his cheekbone.
"Thank you," I murmured. "For keeping these safe. For waiting until the right moment."
Edward just nodded, his emotions still thick in his expression, in the way he watched me like I was something precious.
I glanced at the box then, the copper gleaming under the fading sunlight.
"What about the box?" I asked softly.
A faint smile ghosted over Edward's lips.
"I had it made," he admitted. "Custom. Just for this. So you could have something safe to keep them in. So they'd be preserved."
Emotion swelled again in my chest, and I kissed him again, slow and deep, gratitude and love woven into the press of my lips against his.
"I have a surprise for you too." I said.
Edward tilted his head, curiosity flickering across his face as I rolled up my sleeve and turned my right wrist up, letting the dim light catch on the fresh ink.
The design was simple—fine, barely-there lines connecting the stars of the Scorpio constellation—the one he was born under—nothing too bold, nothing too loud. But where Antares should be, the brightest star in the pattern, there was a letter instead.
An E, small and subtle, worked seamlessly into the lines, almost unnoticeable unless you knew to look for it.
I glanced up at Edward, watching his eyes trace over it, waiting for him to see. His breath caught, lips parting slightly as the realization dawned.
"Antares is the heart of Scorpio," I said with a quiet smile. "But I figured Anthony fit better."
Edward's gaze snapped up to mine, his grayish eyes already shimmering. He didn't speak, just closed the small space between us and kissed me, serious and deep. The warmth of his hands cupped my face, his fingers trembling slightly as they pressed into my skin.
"I love you so much," he whispered against my lips when he finally pulled back. "So much I can't even put it into words."
I exhaled softly, framing his face in my hands and looking directly into his eyes.
"I love you this much too."
Edward let out a shaky breath before kissing me again, and I met him with equal intensity, equal depth, letting him feel everything I couldn't put into words. When we finally broke apart, we stayed close, our foreheads touching, our breaths mingling as his fingers traced over my wrist, ghosting over the ink like he could memorize it through touch alone.
"When did you get this?" he asked, voice low, reverent.
"Two days ago," I answered.
He pulled back just enough to study me with narrowed eyes.
"Two days ago?"
I chuckled, rubbing at the back of my neck.
"Yeah. Which is why I avoided being alone with you." He arched a brow, and I grinned. "No way I could've convinced you I needed to keep my shirt on."
Edward laughed, shaking his head before he let out a soft sigh. But then his gaze drifted, shifting lower—to my left hand.
To my left ring finger.
I watched him freeze, eyes locked on the place where my band and engagement ring used to be. Only a faint indentation remained, a ghost of the metal that had rested there for so many years.
I let him take it in, let him see it before I spoke.
"I took them off this morning."
Edward swallowed, looking up at me, hesitant.
"I'll keep them in a safe place," I said, voice steady. "But they belong to my past, not my present. Not my future."
His throat worked around a thick swallow.
"Present and future?" he echoed, quiet, like he needed to hear it again just to believe it.
"Yes," I murmured. I let the silence stretch between us for a beat, then added, even softer, "You're my present and future."
His lips parted, his expression shifting into something almost disbelieving, something vulnerable. And then I took a breath and gave him all of it.
"Mark will always be with me. Right where he belongs now. In my heart. Safe." I told him. "And that's part of me being here. Being present. Living my present. With you."
Edward's breath shuddered out of him, but he said nothing. He only watched me, waiting.
"I'm ready for us now. Fully ready."
Edward nodded, exhaling, his eyes never leaving mine.
I reached for him, and when I pulled him close, I could feel it in the way he held me back—he believed me.
I let the moment settle before I spoke again.
"The only thing I'll keep on me is this."
I reached for the locket around my neck and opened it. Inside, beside Mark's picture with the kids, there was a new one—Edward with the kids.
Edward let out a soft chuckle, even as more tears slipped free. He shook his head, giving me a watery smile.
"Is your intention today to make me cry?"
I laughed, and he did too, the sound light despite the emotion thick between us. I cradled his face, brushing my thumbs over his damp cheeks.
"I'll never make you cry unless, like today, it's happy tears."
His eyes softened.
"I love you," he whispered.
I smiled and seized the moment, the perfect moment, to say it—to say the words that had shaped our history once.
"I love you more."
Edward blinked, his breath catching for a second, and then he let out something between a laugh and a sigh, shaking his head. But then, suddenly, his expression shifted, something almost mischievous sparking in his gaze.
He grabbed my hand.
"Come on." I frowned at him, but he was already tugging me along, grinning now. "Let's go skinny dipping."
I let out a startled laugh.
"Are you serious?"
Edward's grin widened.
"Very. Come on."
I barely had time to react before he took off toward the lake, already pulling his shirt over his head. And just like that, it was like we were teenagers again, laughing, racing to see who could strip down and dive into the water first.
But once we were in, once the cool water wrapped around us, the laughter faded.
We drifted closer. Our hands found each other beneath the surface. And then his lips met mine, slow and deep, and nothing about this was teenage recklessness anymore. The love, the longing, the years of waiting—it all poured into the kiss, into the way our bodies pressed together, the way we clung to each other as the water rippled around us.
Desire took over, something inevitable and consuming. And there, under the sunset, surrounded by the quiet hush of the lake, we made love.
.
.
.
Leighton hovered in the doorway of my home office, fingers tightening around the frame like she wasn't sure whether to step in. I glanced up from my laptop, already picking up on her hesitation.
"Daddy, are you busy?"
I shut the screen without a second thought and turned to face her completely.
"For you? Never, my sparkle. Come sit with me." I held out a hand, waiting until she stepped forward. When she took it, I guided her toward the sofa. "Do you want to talk about something?"
She nodded, and as soon as we sat down, she tucked her legs up beside her, curling in like she used to when she was little.
"Yeah," she said after a beat.
There was a moment of quiet where she picked at the hem of her hoodie, and I let her have the space to find the words. When she finally spoke again, her voice was soft but steady.
"How long has it been since Papa died?"
I glanced at her, noting the nervous way she was picking at the edge of her sleeve.
"A little over four years."
"And you and Uncle Eddy have been dating for…" She trailed off, tilting her head slightly.
"Two," I supplied.
She nodded slowly, like she was fitting those pieces together in her head. Then, after a small pause, she lifted her gaze to mine.
"Daddy, do you still love Papa?"
My chest tightened—not in pain, just in something deep and unshakable. The answer had been the same since the day I lost him.
"Very much so, baby. And that will never change. I'll always love your father, no matter how much time passes."
She gave a small nod, looking down, like she was weighing my words. Then, after a second, she spoke again.
"But you love Uncle Eddy too."
Something shifted in my chest, a flicker of tension tightening my ribs. I kept my voice steady, cautious.
"I do."
"How much?"
I studied her, trying to read what she wasn't saying.
"A lot."
She finally lifted her gaze to mine, serious now.
"The same way you love Papa, then?"
I let out a slow breath, searching for the right way to explain it, making sure I got this right.
"There's no real comparison, but… let's say the depth, the intensity—it's the same. The feeling, though, is different."
She nodded slowly.
"Uncle Eddy has known me and Noah since we came home, right?"
I nodded.
"I'm fourteen now, and you and Papa got me when I was four, so…"
"Ten years."
"Ten years." She echoed me.
She was quiet for a few seconds, absorbing all that. I could tell she was working her way up to something bigger, and I waited, giving her time. When she finally spoke again, her voice was even smaller.
"What I mean to ask is… is Uncle Eddy the person you'll be with?"
Something about the way she said it made my stomach tighten. I watched her closely.
"You mean, for the rest of my life?"
She nodded.
"That's what I want," I admitted. "But are you asking me because… you're not okay with it?"
Her eyes widened slightly, and she shook her head.
"No, Daddy. I'm asking because…" She hesitated, took a breath. "I wanted to know if… it's a problem if I… call Uncle Eddy… Dad."
For a second, I couldn't move. I just looked at her, my heart tripping over itself, caught somewhere between surprise and something warmer, something that wrapped around me tight.
"Is that something you feel like doing?" I asked thoughtfully.
She nodded, her fingers curling around the edge of her sleeve.
"I feel like he is like Papa and you. He takes care of me and Noah, and he loves us like Papa did. Like you do." She glanced at me, like she needed to make sure I understood. "Most of the time, I already call him Dad in my head. But I didn't want to say it if it would hurt you."
I let out a breath, a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh slipping out before I could stop it.
"Baby… that wouldn't hurt me." I reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze. "How could that ever hurt me?"
She shrugged, small.
"Because he's not Papa. And maybe you'd think I forgot Papa if I called him Dad. But I didn't. I love Papa just as much as always. It's just… I love Uncle Eddy too. Like I love you and Papa."
"Leigh…" I shook my head, my throat tightening. "Nothing will ever change who your fathers are. Mark and me. Your Papa and your Daddy will always be your Papa and your Daddy." I brushed my thumb over her knuckles. "And Uncle Eddy… he can be your father too. If you want him to be. If you let him."
Her breath hitched.
"Really?"
"Really, sparkle. You can call him Dad, or Uncle Eddy, or whatever feels right to you. It won't change how much he loves you. But I know him. And I know he'd be over the moon if you called him Dad."
Her lips parted like she hadn't expected that, like maybe she'd been holding onto more uncertainty than I realized.
"So… I can?"
I chuckled softly.
"Maybe check with him too? But I don't think you have anything to worry about. He loves you, Leigh. You and Noah both."
A slow, relieved smile spread across her face.
"Okay, Daddy. Thank you." She leaned in, wrapping her arms around me. "I love you."
I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her close. "I love you too, my sparkle. Always."
.
.
.
I sat cross-legged on the grass, the cool of the evening seeping through my jeans, my gaze resting on the weathered stone that marked where Mark was now. The breeze was light, carrying with it the scent of fresh earth and growing things. I never could have imagined how much I'd come to rely on these quiet moments with him.
Letting out a slow breath, I traced the carved letters with my eyes, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Leighton got her driver's license two days ago," I said aloud, my voice thin against the stillness. "I can't believe she's already sixteen." My voice dropped a bit more before I sighed and straightened up a bit. "Edward bought a new car last month, so he asked me for permission to give her his Mini Cooper. Since he didn't spend a dime on it and it's in great condition, I let him. She was so happy…"
I paused, a small smile pulling at my lips as I shook my head.
"But now Noah thinks it's only fair that, next year, when he's the one turning sixteen, his dad gives him the one he just bought." A quiet laugh escaped me. "And the sheer absurdity of it? Edward said okay. And I know he means it."
I exhaled, running a hand through my hair before glancing down. My voice was softer now.
"It's his birthday today," I murmured. "Forty-four."
I let the words linger in the air, letting the weight of them sink in. It felt strange, knowing how far I'd come from the time when everything felt lost, when the future seemed a distant thought.
I looked at my hands, folding them tightly in my lap. It's been almost four years now, since Edward and I found our way back to each other. Time had a way of moving too quickly, especially when it was marked by so much change. Six years, and Mark was still gone, still out of reach… but I still carried him with me.
"I'm going to propose to him tonight," I murmured, looking back at the headstone, though I wasn't sure if it was meant for me or him, the man who used to know me better than I knew myself. "I... I wish you were here to tell me it's a good idea, or maybe just laugh at how much I'm overthinking it."
I sighed, my breath catching in my chest. The silence stretched out like a weight I didn't want to carry, and I found myself wishing, desperately, that I could hear his voice again. Mark had always had a way of putting things into perspective, making me see the simplicity of moments like this.
But I couldn't. I couldn't hear him anymore, couldn't ask him if this was right. So instead, I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out the folded letter I kept there. I unfolded it slowly, my fingers brushing over the creases. The paper had softened with time, the ink fading just slightly, but the words still felt like they were meant for me in this moment.
I leaned back against the cool stone, the letter open in my hands, and I began to read aloud, letting the words fill the silence between us, the words Mark had written for me when he knew the path ahead of me would be uncertain, when he knew I'd be scared to love again.
Hey, Bae,
Here we are again.
This second letter is for when you feel ready to open up again. So, I hope I get it right, but if I don't, I'm sorry. I'm good at predicting what people will ask and answer me, but not you… never you.
That was actually one of the things that made me so awed by you. You're so fucking intelligent, Moony! Always challenging me.
Ok, so this is about you loving someone who's not me.
Hey, I know. I'm hard to compare.
Just kidding.
I guess this is about Edward. And I really hope it is, because if it's about somebody else… well, I'm not sure I'll get everything right.
Anyway…
When you love again, remember it's not about filling the space I left behind.
That's actually mine. You're not supposed to fill it (again, just kidding).
This is about creating a new space, Moony. Or maybe reclaiming a space that already exists. Just let your heart be open, even when it feels like it's broken into pieces. Don't carry the weight of old guilt or regret, okay? You loved me (I hope you still do, maybe just a little), and that's enough.
You're enough.
Now, be true to yourself like I taught you to be.
Unapologetically.
Don't ever be ashamed of loving or of who you love. Own it, Bae.
And if it's Edward…
Well, I approve. Not that you need my approval.
And you know what you have to do. Be yourself. Own your desires, your feelings, your decisions, your attitude. Don't ever settle for less than you deserve (and you deserve it all). Don't let anybody command you or tell you how to feel or what to do. You are your own person. And you know your heart better than anybody (even me, hahaha).
You can do whatever you want, and you don't owe anybody an explanation.
Now, if it isn't Edward, just make sure this new person is a good, reliable, trustworthy one who loves our kids, okay? And the rest will fit.
I trust you on that one.
I miss you. I love you.
Always.
Your Sunny.
The words didn't make me feel less alone, but they did remind me of everything that led me here. Of the man I was, still becoming, and the man who'd been my anchor, the one who believed in me even when I couldn't believe in myself.
I closed my eyes for a moment, holding the letter to my chest.
"I wish you were here, Sunny," I whispered. "I wish I could hear your voice right now."
I stayed there for a while, letting the quiet settle around me as the sun finally went down. And for the first time in years, I didn't feel like I was standing on the edge of something impossible. Maybe this was the next step in the story, the one I'd been too afraid to take before.
.
.
.
Edward stepped into the garden, his presence slipping into the night like something inevitable. The soft glow of string lights cast shifting patterns over his sharp features, the gold in his hair catching in the warmth of it. His expression, relaxed from the dinner I'd made, turned amused when his gaze found me.
I leaned against the railing of the pergola, twirling the stem of a wine glass between my fingers.
"Happy birthday, Dr. Cullen."
His lips curved, slow and knowing.
"It's been a good one."
"I figured I'd keep it simple." I gestured vaguely at the private setup—our drinks, the quiet night, the way the city lights barely touched the horizon beyond the garden walls.
"I appreciate it," he said, and I knew he meant it.
His appreciation didn't stop me from teasing him.
"So, head of surgery now, huh? Feels a little dramatic, like an evil empire takeover."
Edward huffed a laugh, shaking his head.
"Only because my father retired, and the board insisted I take his place. Apparently, I'm the one surgeon at the hospital they trust the most. But I've heard something about some kind of… campaign…?"
I smirked.
"I know nothing about that." I shook my head, pretending Carlisle and I hadn't worked our asses off, using our best argumentation skills to make sure the rest of the board agreed with our choice. "What I do know is, that's got to sting for the rest of the surgeons."
"They'll survive," he said dryly.
I hummed, tilting my head.
"They actually agree with the board. Keira commented that they were all very pleased to have you as a leader." I added with a confident smile. "Dr. Parker was one of the most enthusiastic, by the way, since he's now your assistant. Of course, that's a real downside."
Edward's laughter was immediate, rich and filling the air.
"Jazz." He took a step toward me, shaking his head. "There's nothing for you to worry about."
"Oh?" I arched a brow. "I see the way he looks at you. And now he'll be spending a lot of time by your side."
Another step. Then another. Edward's hands found my waist, easy and familiar, pulling me in before I could think to resist. His gayish-blue eyes, so close, gleamed with something I recognized too well.
"I love when you're jealous," he murmured.
I scowled, though it had no real heat.
"Stop looking at me like that."
His head tilted slightly.
"Like what?"
"This intense, all-knowing, all-seeing way."
His fingers flexed against me.
"Does it make your knees weak?"
I exhaled, long and slow, then admitted.
"You know it does."
The corner of his mouth twitched, and then he kissed me—deep, slow, like he had all the time in the world.
When he pulled back, his eyes lingered on mine, soft and thoughtful.
"The only downside I see is that, although I'll still be able to perform a lot of surgeries, I'll now have to work on a schedule."
"Which is definitely not your style. But it'll be good for us… and for the kids. You'll have more time for us."
"That's mostly why I took the role. And the fact that now I've got more excuses to check in on you during the day…"
He kissed me again.
My fingers curled around his hand when I pulled back, holding it between us as I took a small step away.
"I… need to talk to you about something."
He nodded, but his gaze turned just a little bit cautious.
I took a breath and started.
"We've known each other since we were babies," I said, watching the way his gaze immediately softened, the way he listened. I discreetly tied a thin blue thread around his left ring finger as I spoke, taking care to keep his gift securely hidden in my palm. "The link between us has been broken and mended, but it's always been there somehow."
I sighed, my throat tight with everything I was about to say.
"We're lucky, you know," I told him. "To have a second chance. But I'm the luckiest of the two of us." My voice dipped lower, weighted with truth. "Most people have only one great love in their lives. I had two." My fingers pressed against his, the thread snug between our hands. "I have two. And I have a second chance with my very first one."
Edward's gaze burned into me, unreadable, unguarded.
"You were my first love," I whispered. "The first man I ever loved. Mark—" I hesitated, but only for a breath. "Mark was the love of my life. I can't compare what I felt for him and what I feel for you because they're too different, too utterly their own. But just as he held—still holds—something unique in my history… so do you."
Edward's fingers curled around mine.
I held his gaze as I spoke my next words with absolute certainty.
"I will love you fully, like you deserve. And I'll make sure you feel loved, valued, taken care of, and cherished every second of every day for the rest of our lives." A breath. A pause. A quiet, waiting moment before I added, "All you have to do is say yes."
Edward didn't hesitate.
"Yes." His voice was steady, immediate.
I chuckled softly.
"You can't back down now," I pointed out, the warmth in my chest blooming into something uncontainable. "You've already said yes." I smiled, and it felt like everything. "But I want you to hear the question."
Edward's throat bobbed as he swallowed.
I squeezed his hand, my voice quiet but unwavering.
"So… Edward Anthony Masen Cullen…" I smiled, my fingers still wrapped around his, lingering in the moment for just a second longer. Slowly, I raised my hand higher than his, pulling the thread taut, stretched like a slide. "Will you marry me?"
Edward exhaled, a breathless laugh escaping him, almost disbelieving.
"Yes," he said, his voice steady, sure.
Holding his gaze intently, I opened my hand, letting the ring slip from my palm and glide down the thread until it settled perfectly around his left ring finger.
It was a heavy platinum band, wide and solid, tapering just enough at the bottom to sit comfortably on his finger. The diamond—a four-carat cushion cut—was cradled between the thick edges of the band, locked in place by the metal on either side. No prongs, nothing delicate—just a seamless, almost architectural setting that made the diamond feel like part of the ring itself. Bold. Striking. The kind of ring that belonged on Edward's hand—undeniable, just like him.
Edward's breath hitched as he stared down at the ring, then back up at me, his expression unreadable.
I smirked, enjoying the mix of disbelief and happiness in his eyes.
"A month from now," I said, my voice firm but gentle, "Your parents' garden, under the oak tree." I raised my brows, silently asking for confirmation. "I'll marry you, and you'll marry me. Yeah?"
"Yes," he replied, an incredulous chuckle escaping him.
"So, it's set?" By then, I was just teasing, trying to get a reaction out of him.
"Yes," he repeated.
"Good. And you have a week to move in," I added, trying to keep a straight face. "I won't take no for an answer."
"A week?"
"A week. I don't want to wait any longer. I want you here with me."
"What about Leigh and Noah?"
"Edward, they've been calling you 'Dad' for over two years," I reminded him, giving him a pointed look. "And I've talked to them… Leighton said 'finally,' while Noah said, 'took you long enough,' with an eye-roll. They talked to me like I was one of their teenage friends. But I get it. I've waited longer than I should have."
Edward nodded, then looked down, turning his hand slightly as he admired the ring. Amusement flickered across his face as he gave a slow shake of his head.
"Jazz, this thing is huge. The diamond alone could double as a weapon."
I opened my mouth, already rushing to assure him.
"You don't like it? I can have another one made—"
"I love it. It's beautiful," he cut in before I could finish. "I just mean… you didn't have to go all in on it."
I smirked.
"You deserve way more than that. But also, I needed everyone to know—you are definitively taken."
He laughed, eyes bright.
"You really need to let go of this Parker thing."
I huffed.
"I'm just saying—"
"He's been flirting with Dr. Carter for a while now."
I blinked.
"Marla?"
Edward nodded, smirking. I frowned, caught off guard.
"Parker's bi," he said with a chuckle, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
I narrowed my eyes.
"And how do you know that?"
"We talk, Jasper. We work together."
I leveled him with a mock-suspicious stare, lips pressing together like I wasn't buying it.
"Okay, but that doesn't mean I'm wrong," I insisted. "You're telling me he's never hit on you?"
Edward exhaled, dropping his head back slightly.
"Okay, fine. Once. But—"
I scoffed.
"I knew it—"
"It was before you outed us in the middle of the cafeteria," he cut in, lifting a brow. "After that, no one's hit on me again. Probably because they know better than to risk their asses playing with the boss's man."
I tilted my head, arching my brows.
"So, there were others?"
Edward chuckled, covering his mouth with his hand like he'd accidentally let something slip.
"Guess I said too much."
I folded my arms.
"I want names."
Instead of answering, he cradled my face, brushing his thumb along my cheek before kissing me, slow and deep, like I was the only thing in his world.
"I don't care about anyone else, love," he murmured in the brief pause between our breaths, his lips barely a whisper from mine. "I see only you." Another kiss, firmer this time.
"I know, but—"
"Just shut up and kiss me," he cut me off.
And so I did.
.
.
.
The sun hung low in the sky, casting warm gold over the sprawling Cullen estate. The late afternoon light filtered through the branches of the old oak tree, tracing patterns over the grass—over the very place where so much of our history had been written.
I walked down the aisle first, my mother on one side, Rosalie on the other. Their hands in mine felt like anchors, steadying me, grounding me in the moment even as my heart beat with something too vast to name. As we reached the end, I exhaled softly, barely holding back the sting in my eyes.
Leighton followed, scattering petals with the unbothered grace of someone who knew exactly how to carry herself. She smiled at me as she passed, a quiet, knowing look in her eyes. I swallowed hard, my breath uneven, because it was all starting to feel real.
Then the music shifted.
I lifted my head, and there he was.
Edward.
Walking between Carlisle and Esme, their soft smiles reflecting the tenderness in his expression. He looked—God, he looked beautiful. Not just in the way he always had, but in the way that made something inside me ache.
He stepped forward, and for a moment, I knew he wasn't entirely here.
His gaze flickered as he walked, and I saw it in his eyes—the pull of memory, the way time folded over itself. He was seeing the past laid out before him, woven into the very earth beneath his feet.
Us, as children, racing across this same grass, our laughter ringing through the air. The way he'd grabbed my wrist, tugging me behind this tree to hide, breathless and grinning.
Us, at thirteen, sitting beneath its branches, talking for hours about everything and nothing, our voices hushed like we were sharing the world's best-kept secret.
And then, at eighteen—after almost losing each other before we even began—our first real kiss. Right here, under this tree. Hesitant, unsure, and yet utterly inevitable.
I exhaled, the weight of it all pressing against my ribs. But then, he was in front of me.
Esme cupped his face, kissing his forehead gently before doing the same to me, her touch lingering for just a second longer. Carlisle followed, pressing a kiss to Edward's temple, then turning to me with something raw and proud in his gaze before placing Edward's hand in mine.
I held it tightly, my fingers wrapping around his like they were meant to be there.
The rites began, the words flowing around us, but I barely heard them. All I could hear was the rush of my heartbeat. All I could see was him.
Edward turned to me, and suddenly, the whole world went still.
Edward took a breath, his fingers tightening around mine as he lifted his gaze, and then he began.
"Jasper," he said, my name soft on his lips, weighted with meaning. "My prince. I have loved you for as long as I can remember. Before I even knew what love was, I knew you. You have been in every part of my life, in every version of me—when I was a reckless boy, when I was a foolish young man, and now, standing here, knowing without a doubt that you are the greatest gift I've ever been given."
I swallowed, my chest tightening. His voice was steady, but his eyes—God, his eyes held everything.
"I have lost you before. I have hurt you before. But through it all, the thread between us never truly broke. And I swear to you now, with everything that I am, that I will never let it fray again."
His fingers brushed against my palm, right where I had once held that thread between us. My vision blurred, but I refused to blink. I needed to see him, to take in every word, every shift in his expression.
"You are my first love. My truest love. My only and last love. And I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never have to question that."
A quiet sound caught in my throat, and my grip on his hand tightened instinctively. He gave me a small, knowing smile, a silent confirmation—he meant every word.
I took a breath, steadying myself as I looked at him.
"Edward," I began, his name a quiet promise on my lips. "You've been woven into my life for as long as I can remember. Since we were kids, you've always been there, a constant running alongside me. For years, I thought our connection had frayed, that we'd unraveled beyond repair. But I see now that it never broke. It just waited. Waited for us to be ready."
Edward's throat bobbed as he swallowed, and I tightened my grip on his hands.
"I used to believe love was something you either found or lost. That it was about the right person at the right time. But I've learned that love is bigger than that. Love is every moment, every choice, every part of the life you build. Love changes you, shapes you, makes you into someone capable of holding it the way it's meant to be held."
I met his gaze, my chest tightening with everything I felt for him, with everything this moment meant.
"I wasn't ready before. And neither were you. We had to become who we are now to stand here today, fully knowing what this means, what we're promising. We have lived and lost, lost our way, our path, each other and a part of ourselves. But all that allowed us to mature, find a new path, a new way, and then, our way back to each other—not as the boys we once were, not as the young men who weren't ready, but as the men who are. And I know now that this is where we were meant to be."
Edward's fingers curled around mine, and something flickered in his eyes—understanding, deep and quiet. He knew. He had always known. That love I'd held before, for Mark, every piece of my heart that had been shaped by it, had led me here, to him. And that I wasn't standing here in spite of it, but because of it.
My voice wavered, but I didn't look away.
"I promise to love you in all the ways I have learned love should be given. I promise to stand beside you, through every moment, through every joy and sorrow, through every day we are given. I will see you and cherish you, not just for what you are to me now, but for everything that brought us here, for everything that made us ready for this."
His breath hitched slightly, and I saw it—the quiet acceptance, the gratitude. He understood. He always had.
"I was meant to love you. And you… you were meant for me. I will spend the rest of our lives proving that to you."
Edward exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening around mine, and for a moment, neither of us moved. The world had narrowed to this—our hands, our vows, the space between us charged with everything we had been and everything we were promising to be.
Then, a soft rustling.
Tisha stepped forward, her small hands releasing petals into the air like falling stars. She giggled as one clung to Edward's sleeve before twirling away, and I caught the way his lips quirked, his eyes flicking to mine.
Then came Noah, carrying the rings.
His expression was solemn, reverent, but as he got closer, there was the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth—like he knew exactly what this meant to me.
The officiant spoke, but it was a distant hum against the roaring in my chest.
"Do you, Jasper Alexander Hale, take Edward Anthony Masen Cullen to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love and to cherish, in joy and in sorrow, for all the days of your life?"
There was no hesitation, no doubt.
"I do."
Edward's breath hitched, his throat bobbing as his eyes burned into mine.
"And do you, Edward Anthony Masen Cullen, take Jasper Alexander Hale to be your lawfully wedded husband? To love and to cherish, in joy and in sorrow, for all the days of your life?"
His voice was quieter than mine, but no less certain.
"Yes, I do."
Noah stepped forward then, hands careful as he placed the ring into my palm. His gaze flicked up to meet mine, his lips pressing together as if he was holding something back, and then he gave the tiniest nod. I swallowed, steadying myself as I took Edward's hand in mine.
The band was solid platinum, smooth and weighty between my fingers, but it was the black diamond inlay that made it his. A sleek, unbroken strip of midnight, cut and polished to a muted gleam, running through the center like something quiet but undeniable. No bright flash, no extravagance—just depth, strength, and a kind of certainty that felt right.
"With this ring," I said, my voice thick with emotion, "I give you all that I am, all that I have, and all that I will ever be."
As I slid it onto his finger, the weight of it grounding me in this moment, the platinum caught the light, framing that dark core like a promise sealed in something unshakable. Permanent. Ours.
Edward took the second ring from Noah, his hands steady even as his breath shook.
"With this ring, I give you my heart, my life," he vowed while his fingers brushed against mine, lingering, before he slid the band onto my finger—the same as the one on his, identical in every way. "Everything I am, and all I will ever be."
The officiant smiled, her voice carrying through the quiet afternoon air.
"Jasper Alexander Hale and Edward Anthony Masen Cullen, you have declared your love and commitment before those who hold you dearest. By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husbands. And, as requested, I present you to your family and friends as Jasper Alexander Hale-Cullen and Edward Anthony Hale-Cullen."
The words had barely settled before Edward's hands framed my face, and then his lips were on mine.
The world blurred, time narrowing to this single moment, this single breath. His kiss was soft yet certain, carrying everything that had ever existed between us—every lost chance, every found moment, every promise now sealed with something as simple and irrevocable as this. His heart pounded beneath my palm, his fingers threading through my hair, pulling me closer like he never planned to let go. I kissed him back just as fiercely—because he didn't have to. He never would.
Applause, laughter, and the sharp whistles from Rosalie and Emmett cut through the moment, but neither of us pulled away. Not until Edward laughed against my lips, breathless, his forehead pressing to mine.
"You're mine now," he whispered, teasing, but the raw emotion in his voice made it feel like a vow.
I huffed a quiet laugh, my hands sliding to his waist.
"Somehow, I always was."
His fingers curled at my sides, a breath shuddering past his lips.
"We did it," he murmured, wonder laced through his voice.
I nodded, my own breath unsteady.
"Yeah. We did."
Then, a blur of movement—Noah and Leighton.
Noah reached me first, crashing into me with arms thrown tight around my waist. Except—it wasn't my waist. Not anymore. He was taller than me now, his chin brushing my shoulder as he clung to me.
"Daddy," he breathed against my ear, his chest shaking with each unsteady breath, his grip unrelenting.
I wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in as my other reached for Leighton. She buried herself against me, face pressed to my chest, her breath warm and trembling. Edward's arm curved over her back, gathering both of them against us.
"I'm so happy for you," Leighton whispered, her voice breaking, and I shut my eyes for half a second, letting it all sink in.
Edward's hand slid over Noah's back.
"Are you happy, bud?" he asked softly.
Noah nodded fiercely, lifting his head to look at him.
"Yeah, Dad," he said, voice thick with emotion. "Love you."
"Love you too, bud. A lot." Edward's voice wavered, his eyes shimmering.
Leighton pulled back slightly, glancing between us before settling on Edward.
"This is real, right? Like, we don't have to give you back after today?"
Edward's throat bobbed, and I knew him well enough to recognize when words weren't enough. I squeezed his waist, and when he looked at me, I just nodded. He exhaled softly, pressing a quick, almost shaky kiss to my temple before turning back to her, tightening his hold.
"Nope. Stuck with me."
"Good," she sniffled, wiping at her face. "I love you, Dad."
Edward let go of me just long enough to cradle her head to his chest, holding her close.
"I love you so much, princess."
"Hey, what about me?" I teased, watching as both my kids wrapped themselves around Edward.
Noah huffed a laugh and tightened his arms around me.
"Love you too, Daddy. So much."
Leighton turned her face toward mine, eyes still glassy, but she smiled.
"Love you, Daddy."
Edward shifted just enough to pull me in with them, his voice warm, teasing.
"Get in here, Daddy."
Leighton and Noah chuckled as they opened their arms to me, and I didn't hesitate.
The music shifted, and I caught movement beyond them—guests already filtering toward the open-air reception set up beneath a canopy of string lights. The golden hour had settled over everything, turning the estate into something almost ethereal, like a dream made real.
"Alright," Bella's voice cut through, her smirk unmistakable as she sidled up beside me, her very pregnant belly leading the way. "You two lovebirds are cute, but there's a party waiting, and I intend to get my fill of non-alcoholic punch."
Emmett chuckled beside her, his hand resting lightly on her back.
"Non-alcoholic punch, huh? Real wild."
Bella rolled her eyes, though there was a playful sparkle in them.
"Hey, I'm not the one who's been avoiding the cake, Emmett." She said with a teasing smile, her tone lightly accusing.
Edward snorted, finally blinking back whatever emotion had held him captive. He shot them both an amused look.
"Subtle."
"Always," Bella replied, giving Edward a wink.
Leighton looped her arm through Noah's.
"We should probably find Tisha before she makes a mess of the cake," she said with a teasing grin.
Noah huffed, though there was no real annoyance behind it. He adored his cousin.
"She's more likely to climb it than eat it," he said.
I laughed, shaking my head, before turning back to Edward. His eyes were still on me, the rest of the world slipping back into motion around us, but us—just us—still locked in this moment, in everything it meant.
"Ready, husband?" he asked, the word sliding off his tongue like it had always belonged there.
I smiled.
"Yeah. Let's go."
Hand in hand, we walked toward the rest of forever.
.
.
.
I stirred as warmth pressed against my back, a familiar hand tracing slow, knowing paths across my chest. Edward's body molded to mine, his heat seeping into me, his breath a whisper against my shoulder. I was still half-asleep, floating between dreams and wakefulness, but the hard, deliberate press of his arousal against my ass sent a shiver through me. He rocked against me in a slow, unhurried rhythm, his hand gliding down from my chest, fingertips barely grazing my skin as he moved toward my navel.
A quiet hum escaped me as I arched back into him, seeking more. My hand found his, threading our fingers together, and my lips curved into a lazy smile, eyes still closed. The cool, familiar weight of our wedding bands and his engagement ring clicked softly as our hands tangled, a tangible reminder of everything we had become, everything we had promised.
Without hesitation, I guided his hand lower, pushing it beneath the waistband of my pajama pants, wrapping both of our hands around the heat of my erection. A breathy moan left me at the contact, swallowed quickly by the deep, answering groan that rumbled against my back. Edward shifted, his mouth finding my neck, lips parting as he sucked gently at my pulse point, tongue tracing fire over my skin.
I groaned, my head falling back against his shoulder as he stroked me slow, teasing, his grip firm but deliberate.
A gasp slipped out as his fingers tightened, his pace controlled. I barely had time to breathe before I felt his lingering thrust and pushed back against him, my voice rough with sleep and want, breaking around the words when I finally spoke.
"Need to feel you inside me."
"Want to be inside you," he murmured in my ear at the same time, his tone raspy with need.
Edward's only response was a sharp inhale, his nod barely a movement against my shoulder. His hand moved with tormenting patience, drawing pleasure out of me in slow, aching pulls. Then, suddenly, his touch was gone.
Before I could protest, he was above me, kneeling, his gaze molten as he pulled my pajama bottoms down and off. He stood only long enough to rid himself of his own, and the sight of him—flushed, hard, breath coming fast—sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through me. My heart pounded. His entire expression was pure, unrestrained need—lust, passion, love, all tangled into something feral.
He was over me in a blink, his fingers catching my chin before I could react, tilting my face up to meet his burning stare. His thumb traced my lower lip before he murmured, voice rough with hunger.
"I'm so crazy about you… sometimes I think I'll come apart before I even touch you." He swallowed hard, his gaze dragging over me, taking in every inch of bare skin, every rise and fall of my chest. "Your scent, your heat, the softness of your skin, the hardness of your muscles—" He cut himself off with a sharp exhale, shaking his head as though trying to rein himself in, but when his eyes found mine again, they were ablaze. "Every nerve in my body hums with lust for you."
I realized I was panting, Edward's words leaving a fire in their wake. His silence was thick, charged, his need hanging between us like a live wire. I swallowed hard, forcing out the words I knew he needed to hear.
"You can take me whenever, however you want." My voice was low, unwavering. "I'm all yours."
Edward gasped, his gaze flashing dark and wild.
"Jasper—" He cut himself off with a groan, his fingers flexing against my jaw. "I don't know if I can be gentle right now." His breath hitched. "I feel like I'm about to burst."
I nodded, my whole body tightening in anticipation.
"Then don't be."
A strangled sound left his throat, and then he was moving. His mouth was on me—hot, wet, desperate. His lips stretched around me as he took me deep, his head bobbing in a hungry, frantic rhythm. His eyes stayed closed, and I knew it wasn't restraint—it was surrender. He was lost in it, drowning in his own need.
I shattered too fast, my orgasm tearing through me with a raw, helpless moan. But Edward didn't stop. His lips caught mine as he reached for the bedside drawer, hands fumbling in his urgency.
"I love you," he whispered before he tore open the condom with his teeth, rolled it on with frantic urgency, his kisses trailing down my jaw, my throat, my chest.
His fingers were slick as he prepped me, careful but rushed, his gaze locking onto mine with a need that bordered on desperation. My body trembled beneath him, bracing, knowing control was slipping from his grasp.
And then he was inside me, swift and deep, a ragged, visceral groan ripping from both of us as he filled me in one fluid thrust.
His thrusts were relentless—hard, fast, possessive. His grip was firm and commanding on my thighs, his eyes never leaving mine, dark and wild with something deeper than desire. My legs locked around his waist, pulling him closer, anchoring him to me as he drove us both higher. We kissed like we were starving for each other, breaking only for gasps, for moans, for the sounds of pleasure spilling unchecked between us.
It wasn't long before we were both unraveling, the final thrusts pushing us over the edge in perfect synchrony. The kiss broke with a shared, guttural groan, and as our bodies trembled through the aftershocks, our eyes stayed locked, the pleasure washing over us in waves as we drowned in each other's gaze.
Edward collapsed against me, his forehead pressing to mine, our breaths mingling in the space between us.
"I love you," we whispered at the same time, smiling through the remnants of our release.
Then, still breathless, we spoke again, voices overlapping.
"I love you more."
A chuckle rumbled between us, soft and warm, before our lips met once more, sealing the moment in a kiss that promised everything.
Edward let out a slow, contented sigh and shifted against me, his whole body settling over mine. The full weight of him pressed me into the mattress, warm and solid. It grounded me in a way that made my chest tighten with something too deep for words. His head rested against my chest, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him, holding him close, my fingers tracing lazy patterns over his bare back.
This was the first morning of our married lives.
We had only just gotten married the day before. It hadn't even been twenty-four hours, but already, I felt something so profound, so quietly extraordinary, that it filled every inch of me. A deep, unwavering happiness.
I squeezed Edward a little tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as I let the thought sink in.
We had been through so much—together, apart, finding our way back, again and again. And now we were here. In just a few hours, we'd be leaving for Greece, our honeymoon ahead of us, the first of so many new experiences we'd share as husbands. As partners in every sense of the word.
And this was only the beginning.
Our lives had intertwined in ways we never could have planned, our paths overlapping until there was no separating them. Edward was my past, my present, my future. And I knew, with absolute certainty, that we were meant to be exactly here.
I closed my eyes and, for a brief, quiet moment, let my thoughts reach out to Mark.
Thank you, my Sunny, I told him silently. For loving me, for teaching me how to love, how to accept love in the ways it came to me. I will always love you—for everything you were, everything you mean to me. But most of all, for shaping me into the man I needed to be. The man who is ready for Edward.
I squeezed Edward again, and without hesitation, he squeezed me back.
A breath later, he murmured against my skin, his voice low and drowsy.
"I love you, my prince."
I smiled at the old nickname, a relic from another lifetime—one he hadn't used since before we broke up, when we were just two college kids in love. Lately, though, it had been showing up more and more. My arms tightened around him, warmth spilling through me at the familiarity of it.
Edward shifted slightly, his voice heavier with sleep now.
"What time do we have to be at the airport?"
I pressed a slow kiss to his hair.
"Not for another four hours. Sleep for a bit—I'll wake you when it's time."
A soft hum of acknowledgment, another gentle squeeze, and then I felt the slow, rhythmic relaxation of his body as he let sleep pull him under.
I smiled, closing my eyes, letting the warmth of him, the quiet rise and fall of his breaths, wrap around me. The happiness settling in my chest wasn't just about this moment—it was a promise, a certainty that stretched ahead of us. A life filled with love, with Edward.
And I knew, deep in my bones, that it would be a perfectly happy life.
.
Boy, I hear you in my dreams
I feel your whisper across the sea
I keep you with me in my heart
You make it easier when life gets hard
Lucky I'm in love with my best friend
Lucky to have been where I have been
Lucky to be coming home again
(...)
They don't know how long it takes
Waiting for a love like this
Every time we said goodbye
I wished we had one more kiss
(...)
Though the breezes, through the trees
Move so pretty
You're all I see
As the world keeps spinning round
You hold me right here right now
Lucky I'm in love with my best friend
Lucky to have been where I have been
Lucky to be coming home again
I'm lucky we're in love in every way
Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed
Lucky to be coming home someday
Lucky - Colbie Caillat e Jason Mraz
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THE END
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A/N: There will be an epilogue.