This day is far from over for these two, so hold tighhhttt, spidermonkey lolll

See you in another two weeks. It sucks, I know. Sorry sorry, but thank you for reading and I hope to hear from you! :3

baby, you showed me what living is for
I don't wanna hide anymore

.
thirty-nine
crazier
.

Something ugly and dark settles within me after I say Carlisle's name aloud.

Edward meets my gaze, his expression holding that same fear.

"Okay, so three people knew Rosalie was pregnant," Jane says, not having the same apprehensive reaction. "Is there a chance Carlisle told anyone?"

"No," Edward says with finality. "He was adamant I didn't tell the police or anyone else, so I doubt he would have."

Suddenly, we hear the front door open from around the corner, and a chorus of children's voices fills the space—lots of bickering and some cries for Mommy.

"One sec," Jane says, getting up just as a man and three kids come into the living area. "Mike, what's wrong? What are y'all doing back so soon?"

"Sorry, I texted you to give you a heads up," he replies. "Lulu scraped her knee, and all hell broke loose."

"Look at my booboo, Mommy," a little blonde girl cries.

"I'll go get a Band-Aid," Mike says, disappearing.

"I'm so sorry," Jane says to Edward and me. "I need to go wash her up."

"Not at all. Do what you need to do," I say before she picks up the little girl and leaves the room.

Her other two kids, an older boy and girl, stay in the room and stare at Edward and me.

"Who are you?" the boy asks us. I have no idea how old he is—maybe ten or so.

"Hi." I smile, unsure how to talk to children. "We went to school with your Mommy a long time ago."

"What's your name?" the girl wonders.

"I'm Bella, and that's Edward," I say. "And who are you?"

"I'm Claire, and my brother is Leo. My little sister Lulu hurt herself at the park," she says.

"I saw. I hope she's okay," I reply, frowning.

Claire nods, looks between Edward and me, then asks, "Are you boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"Ew," Leo says.

I laugh awkwardly, glancing at Edward, who looks too amused and waits for me to answer. I can't believe a child is making us define what we are before we can.

"He's a boy, and I'm a girl, and we're friends," I say lamely instead of confessing my love.

Edward places a palm over his chest, pretending to look wounded. "Ouch. Demoted from husband to friend all in one trip, huh?"

I laugh, appreciating this light moment that counters the heavy, my chest squeezing with overwhelming affection for him.

Jane walks back into the living room with Lulu and Mike, and from her apologetic expression, I'm sure she's about to ask us to leave. Before she can, I make the call.

"We'll get out of your hair," I offer, and Edward stands, moving closer to me. "Thank you for talking with us. We appreciate it."

"Yeah, of course." Jane smiles kindly. "This is my husband, Mike, by the way."

Edward and I shake hands with him, but the introductions don't last long before Lulu cries, Leo climbs Mike, and Claire announces that Edward is my husband.

"All right, who wants ice cream for lunch?" Mike asks the kids, who cheer and follow him into the kitchen.

"So sorry," Jane says, but Edward and I take it in stride and just laugh.

"If anything else comes up, please let us know," I urge as we follow her toward the front door.

"Same," she agrees. "You have my number. I don't know how much I helped, but yeah."

I shake my head, indicating she helped more than she knows, but Edward's the one who says, "You gave us some things to think about. Thank you."

Jane nods, smiling somberly. "I guess I just wanted to offer one last apology," she tells me. "I loved Rose. She was my best friend, and I regret not staying with her that night. If I had, maybe she'd still be here today."

"There's no way to know that," I insist, my throat feeling tight. "Please don't put that on yourself."

"It's hard not to," she says with a slight shrug. "I hope the truth comes out so you and your family can find peace. Just… figure it out before that asshole Jackson. He doesn't deserve the accolades."

My eyes sting with unshed tears as I laugh softly. "That's the plan," I say as Edward intertwines his fingers with mine.

We exchange goodbyes and one last sentiment to take care, then head back to Edward's car.

He starts the engine but doesn't drive away yet and looks at me like he's waiting for me to tell him what to do.

"Carlisle knew she was pregnant," I say quietly. "Do you think he's involved somehow?"

His jaw tightens. "I don't know."

"He could've taken your car," I point out. "That makes more sense than one of your buddies borrowing it, right?"

"But why?" Edward asks. "What's his motive?"

He was sleeping with your girlfriend, got her pregnant, and got rid of her to save his reputation.

I don't even want to say it out loud, let alone think about it.

Thankfully, I don't have to because Edward catches on.

"We don't have proof Carlisle was with her," he says hotly. "That's the fucking problem."

"We could ask him just like we did with Jane. Get a rundown of his version of the night, and watch him sweat."

"Why would he? He'd just lie. He'd have gotten away with it for twenty years if he were involved somehow."

I stress, thinking. "Does Carlisle listen to the podcast?"

"I have no idea. We don't talk about it. It's the waspiest fucking thing about my family. We just act like that night never happened."

"And that in itself is weird, right?" I ask rhetorically, and Edward reluctantly nods. "Look, I'm not condoning Jackson and his fuckery, but he has a following and people are taking an interest in Rosalie's case finally. So maybe we could use him. He hasn't made Rosalie's pregnancy public yet, so maybe we can confirm it's true and—"

Edward frowns. "Fuck that guy, Bella. No."

"But—"

"He accused me of grooming you since you were ten years old. I don't fucking trust him, so no."

"I know," I stress, touching his arm. "I know what he's saying is awful, but if you let him interview you and share your version of the night, it could take some of the heat off of us. And then maybe he could interview your parents."

"I doubt they'd let him. Jackson reached out months ago to interview them, and they denied him. My mom just wanted all of this to go away."

"That's a little obtuse of her," I mutter. "And I don't mean that rudely, but she has the luxury to move on and forget all of this. My family and I don't."

"Yeah, I know," Edward says softly. "But there has to be another way than involving Jackson."

I sigh. "Okay, so maybe we find someone else to interview us. I'm sure some news outlets are salivating to get information from us now that Jackson outed us as a couple. We could mention the pregnancy confirmation and our suspicions of Carlisle and let the media and internet armchair sleuths do their thing."

I don't hear his phone ring, but he pulls it out of his pocket and says, "Fuck. It's my mom."

"Answer it."

He puts the phone to his ear, his eyes on me. "Hey, Mom."

I can faintly hear her voice, but not enough to make out what she's saying. It can't be anything good if his frustrated growl is any indication.

"Please calm down. I have a lot I need to talk to you about," he says to her, then pauses. "Yeah, part of it is true. Not that part, but I am working with Isa," he admits, then corrects, "With Bella."

Her voice is there again, and it doesn't sound like she's happy. I can't blame her—this situation is so fucking tangled.

"Listen. Things aren't what they seem. Don't talk to anyone, don't listen to any more of the podcast, and wait for me to get home." He's quiet while she speaks. "Oh, Carlisle said that, huh? Don't fucking listen to him." His tone has a bite that I probably shouldn't find sexy, given the situation, but I do. "Mom, that's not—" He pauses again, his eyes shifting to me. "She's not. Because I know her." He exhales hard, fisting his hair. "I know it's crazy, but I trust her. Which means you should trust me."

My heart clenches. I'm touched that he's being honest with his mom, but I feel bad that he even has to defend me to her.

"Okay," Edward says, resigned. "Just wait for me. I'll be there soon. I have some things to take care of before then, so I'll be there around six o'clock tonight. Okay. Okay. Bye."

He hangs up, staying silent.

"Your mom knows who I am and isn't happy," I guess. "Love that for me."

He sighs. "Put your seatbelt on." We buckle up, and he shifts into drive, irritation pouring off him. He waits until he's driving to speak, like he needs the added distraction. "She was going to find out who you were sooner or later," Edward says. "That was unavoidable."

"I know," I agree. "I guess I hadn't thought about it, though. No real gameplan; just going full throttle, as I do."

"And my mom's not mad, just… understandably confused about everything. Carlisle's in Atlanta right now for some conference, but I guess he heard the latest podcast episode and told her about it. He said he thinks the sick shit about me could be true. Like I fucking groomed you back in the day."

"What? Why would he say that to her?"

"He's probably pissed I threatened him," he mutters, keeping his eyes on the road.

"What are you talking about?"

"That day you found Charlotte and me at Cafe Allegro?" he prompts. "I only went in because she wanted to talk about Carlisle. He hit on her twice at the gala."

I frown as we leave Jane's neighborhood. "So he has a history of being interested in younger women," I say.

"Guess so," Edward says, his jaw tightening. "I confronted him, and he denied everything. He tried to convince me Charlotte made it up because she was jealous of you and wanted my attention."

"Okay, well, I can't say I'm Team Charlotte or anything because the way her life has overlapped with yours is a little sus. Do you think what Carlisle said is true?"

"Not at fucking all," he disagrees. "She seemed happy for me when I mentioned you and even suggested we do a double date with the guy she's dating. It didn't seem phony or like she was jealous."

"So, Carlisle was trying to cover his ass."

"Seemed like it."

"Did you tell your mom any of this?"

"No," he says regretfully. "I didn't want to upset her. Now I feel like Carlisle's going to deny everything further and say I'm just making shit up because of Jackson's accusations."

"Don't you think your mom would see through that? I mean, she loves you, and you two are so close. Surely, she'd side with her son over him."

"I have no idea."

"I'm sorry," I whisper, stuck in my head for the rest of the drive because even if this isn't my fault, it feels like it is.

"I need to get back to Seattle," Edward says when he pulls in front of the bed and breakfast a few minutes later. "I need to see my mom and figure all this out."

"Okay," I say quietly. "You can drop me off at home and deal with that."

"You don't want to come with me? We can explain all of this to her together and—"

"Um, no. That is the last thing I want. And I'm sure the last thing your mom would want, too. I'm related to the family that accused her son of murder. My family was the cause of her stress and anxiety. I don't imagine she'll ever want to be around me again. Especially after I went to the gala and acted like I didn't know your parents?" I cringe. "Yeah, I'm gonna pass on that little family meeting."

"But that's what I mean—we'll explain to her how this all happened. How you were seeking the truth," he clarifies. "It's been twenty years. I don't think she's been holding a grudge against your family that entire time."

"If she had, I wouldn't even blame her," I mutter.

Edward watches me, maybe sensing my anxiety. "Where's your head at right now?"

"A million different places," I say flatly.

"Why?"

"Because it's been a long day. A long fucking few months. Because..." Unbuckling my seatbelt, I shift to face him. "I don't think we thought this through."

"What?"

"Us."

The word hangs in the silence.

"Bella."

"What?"

He searches my face. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing, I just… I feel bad your mom is upset with you."

"Don't be. I'll fix it. We'll talk, and she'll hear me out, and it'll be fine. And even if it's not, time will help. Of course, she's upset and confused now, but she won't be forever."

"Okay, but I know how close you are with her. I know how much she means to you. And speaking as someone who has lost not one but two mothers and wishes more than anything I could have them back, I would never put someone in a situation where they have to choose family over me."

Edward frowns. "Why do I have to choose family over you?"

"Because that's what it's going to come down to. That's what I mean about we didn't think this through. Not to scare you, but I've been thinking about our future. About how you and I could be a family and maybe one day have a family, and—" I gather the courage to keep going because I know I sound like a stage five clinger. "Before you judge me, my delusions are a side effect of you. Because you made me feel safe enough to imagine more with you, so…"

"I'm not judging you," he says quietly. "I've been thinking about more with you, too. Things I've never considered with anyone else."

I don't let his sweet words sidetrack me. "Reality is trickier," I point out. "You think I'm going to spend Christmas with your family? Do you think my dad and Jasper will sit with your folks at a table for Thanksgiving? Because they're not. This is messy and—"

"Are you breaking up with me?"

I hold his gaze. "We're not even together," I insist, but it's so far from the truth that I feel mean for saying it.

He laughs humorlessly. "Yes, we are. Everything that happened between us last night and this morning… I've never been more together with someone in my fucking life. So don't tell me it meant nothing to you."

"It was everything to me," I insist, voice soft and sad. "You're everything to me, and I love you so much. That's why I'm trying not to be selfish and make this harder than it should be. I'm letting you go so you won't have to choose. I'm making it easy."

He's quiet.

So fucking quiet.

For a second, I decipher his silence as agreeing with all the stupid things I'm saying, but then I realize it's likely because I just accidentally confessed my love for him.

"Oh my God," I blurt, reaching for the door handle. "I'm gonna go pack. Don't worry about driving me back, I can hitchhike."

I leave the car so fucking fast, but he's faster, exiting too and rushing around to block me on the sidewalk before I can go inside.

"You love me?" he demands.

Tears sting my eyes, and there's no use denying it.

"Yes. I do. But you have to understand where I'm coming from—you're so fucking easy to love," I whisper. "You understand me and see me, all of me. You make me happy, and I look forward to every second I'm around you. I'm more myself with you than I've ever been. And I've never connected sexually with anyone like that before. If I have to accept that for what it was, I will. I can. But just know you've ruined me for anyone else."

Fisting his hair, he says, "So you're gonna stand here and pour your heart out, then walk away from this? Because I can't fucking do that."

"But you can," I stress. "I don't expect you to feel the same way I do."

"Why wouldn't I?" he asks angrily.

"Because that doesn't make sense."

Irritation creases over his face. "You're the one not making sense right now. And you're wrong because now is the time to be selfish, Bella. To take what you want from life. To start fucking living," he urges, passion pouring off of him. "No more half-life. I'm tired of this shit. We deserve more, and we deserve each other. I want to be with you no matter what other people think."

The tears in my eyes stream down my face. "You make it sound easy. But it's scary."

He steps closer. "Too fucking bad, baby. Deal with it."

I step back, shaking my head and wiping my cheeks. "I don't want you now only to lose you later. Like, you don't understand—I won't survive that."

"Why would you lose me?" he asks with more patience than I deserve.

"Because that's what happens!" I insist, hysterically. "Nothing significant has ever happened to me. I exist. I endure. I don't earn good things or let myself be vulnerable enough to be loved. So why would this work? How would this work?"

"Why would this work?" he echoes. "Because I love you, too."

My heart explodes into a million smaller hearts for him, but my cynical side says, "You don't have to."

"I don't have to love you?" he echoes. "As if it's a choice."

"You don't have to say that just because I did," I clarify, so nervous he'll take it back.

"But I do love you," he insists, doubling down to reassure me. "And I know that because I've never felt this way before. Ever. I've never felt like I both want and need someone. I've never felt understood or seen until now. And as cheesy as it probably sounds, you feel like home to me," he says with warm certainty, making me smile through my tears. "You know what I dreamed about last night? You. Us. Being a fucking family. You want to know how this will work? We'll be together and not spend the holidays with our families this year. We'll go to Aruba. I won a week-long vacation that I need to use."

"You didn't win that trip," I counter with a soft laugh, blinking away tears. "You overpaid for it like a crazy man."

His gaze holds a playful glint, and I don't shy away from him when he steps closer this time.

"It was for a good cause. And I bought that trip for us," he says softly. "Because everything I do from now on is with you in mind. And I wouldn't want it any other way. Do you understand that?"

I nod, chin trembling, soaking up his sincere words.

He takes my face in his hands, tilts my head back a bit, and kisses me hard. It's deep and full, tender and affectionate, and it tells me many things without words. Like how much he loves me. How I'm his, and he's mine, and it's us against the fucking world.

"No more spiraling," he murmurs against my mouth.

I sniffle, staring up at him. "I can't make any promises. This situation calls for a few freakouts now and then."

"I know, but not with us," he says seriously, eyes blazing with affection. "You're mine. We're together, okay? We're a team."

"Just ask me to be your girlfriend already," I tease.

"I'm not asking. I'm telling."

"Be careful. Giving me a label will make me feel even more secure to freak out," I say, not even kidding.

"So?" He smirks. "I still want you. I can deal with your freak-outs if you promise to listen to reason."

"I'm sorry I got a little crazy," I whisper, my heart beating for him. "I just worry we're going to get a lot of shit for this. But it's worth it."

His arms snake around my waist and pull me so our bodies are flush.

"I don't care what people say or think. You're it for me, Bell. I won't let you push me away or deny our connection because it makes a few people uncomfortable. Fuck them."

"Okay," I agree because his unwavering confidence in us makes me feel secure and whole. Tipping my chin up to kiss him, I pause before our lips meet. "I bet Jackson has someone in the woods capturing this right now."

Uncaring, Edward dips his head and steals another kiss, letting his tongue brush mine. "Then we might as well give them a good show."

"If we're aiming for a dramatic exit, then I have one request before we leave town," I tell him.

"What's that?"

"Let's head to the bookstore so I can talk to Jessica," I say, fiercely determined. "I'm getting that necklace back."