Carlisle stepped into the room, quiet but commanding, settling beside the sofa with a look of quiet concern. “Yes, Alice,” he said gently, “what do you know?”
Alice winced, her eyes darting between me and Edward. Across the room, I saw Edward go still—too still.
“What?” I asked, glancing up at him. His jaw was rigid, his expression unreadable. Something flickered behind his eyes—pain, maybe, or guilt—before he turned away.
Carlisle, patient as ever, didn’t wait long. “We don’t have your abilities. Could one of you please tell us what’s going on?”
Edward said nothing. Alice gave him a look, and he finally nodded, curt and reluctant.
“Go ahead, Alice,” he muttered. “It’s your theory.”
Her eyes softened as she turned to me. “Bella, I think you and Edward share some kind of subconscious link. It’s not mind-reading like his gift, and it’s not visions like mine—it’s something else. Something emotional. Maybe even intuitive.”
My stomach knotted. “What are you talking about?” I caught his gaze. “Edward?”
He didn’t answer at first. Then finally, in a voice so low I almost missed it, he said, “When you described that hypnosis… I saw it too. I wasn’t dreaming. I was there. In the meadow. With you.”
My breath caught. “You saw it?”
I turned to Alice. “So… he saw my dreams?”
She shook her head. “Initially, I would have said no. That I though the hypnosis triggered it. Something in that state opened a connection. However, Edward saw other things that you dreamt about too. This isn’t normal, Bella. But then again, neither are you.”
Carlisle leaned forward slightly. “Fascinating.”
It didn’t feel fascinating. It felt vulnerable. If Edward had seen that, what else had he seen? I looked back up at him, hoping for some explanation. But he wasn’t looking at me—his eyes were fixed on the window, his expression shut tight.
“What else did you see?” I asked, bracing myself.
Edward turned to me, his features finally cracking to reveal something raw and haunted.
“After the first time…” He stopped, then looked away again.
I already knew. The cloaked figures. The meadow. The end.
“We died,” I said quietly. “Together.”
Shock moved across their faces, but I felt oddly numb.
“What was that dream about?” I asked.
Edward started to move as if he wanted to sit with me, but then he seemed to change his mind. “Do you remember your birthday? When I told you what I’d do if anything ever happened to you?”
I nodded slowly. “You said you’d go to Italy… provoke the Volturi.”
He nodded, and suddenly the weight of my vision settled in.
“The cloaks… they were Volturi,” I said.
“Yes,” all three vampires confirmed.
I forced a shaky laugh. “Okay. So I had a weird dream about them. That’s all.”
No one spoke. I scanned their faces—carefully blank.
“It was just a dream,” I said again, more firmly this time. “Wasn’t it?”
Edward’s voice was quiet but unflinching. “They’re coming, Bella.”
I stared at him. “That’s why you’re back.”
Not a question. The truth sat bitter in my mouth.
“You didn’t come back for me,” I whispered. “You came back because of them.”
A hot, hollow ache tore open in my chest. The breath left my lungs in a rush. I folded forward, arms wrapping around my stomach, trying to hold the broken pieces together.
Of course.
His hands stroked my arms, his voice soothing. “Bella, please. I’m here now. I came back for you. We’ll handle the Volturi. You’re not alone.”
But I didn’t believe him. Not completely. And then everything tilted, faded, and went black.
When I came to, the morning light was slanting in through the window. The alarm clock glowed 5:30. I smacked the snooze button and rolled over, a groan slipping out. My arm fell across my face, and I tried to will away the weight pressing against my chest.
It had been a dream. A painfully vivid, manipulative dream. Edward had been back. I’d let myself believe it—again. I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, breathing against the hole that flared open in my chest.
Then I heard it.
“How are you feeling?” His voice. Not in my head. Not a hallucination.
I curled tighter, knees to my chest, refusing to lift my head. My heart was beating too fast. No dream had ever felt this real. I felt the bed shift, and a cool hand brushed my shoulder.
“Bella, it’s okay. You’re safe.”
“No,” I whispered. “Go away. Please. Don’t be him. I can’t take this again.”
“Bella,” his voice broke, barely a whisper. “It’s me. Edward. I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”
I turned my face away. “You left. You don’t get to come back and pretend this is normal. You’re not real. You came back for the Volturi, not for me.”
His hand gently cupped my cheek, and that familiar electric current rushed through me.
“Do you feel that?” he whispered. “I’m real. And I love you. I didn’t just come back because of the Volturi—I came back because living without you isn’t living at all.”
I opened my eyes, and for a moment, I didn’t breathe.
He looked wrecked—his eyes dark from thirst, his face drawn with guilt, with something like fear.
“Edward,” I breathed, almost involuntarily.
He gave me a broken smile. “Hi.”
“You’ve been out for almost two days,” he said softly. “I was starting to worry you wouldn’t wake up.”
I shook my head. “Don’t say that. Don’t talk to me like you’re really here. Don’t lie to me again.”
His brows pulled together, and I watched pain settle in his face.
“I’m not lying. I’m here. I’m so sorry for everything. I’ll spend every day earning back your trust.”
I hesitated. I wanted to believe him. More than anything. But I didn’t move toward him—not yet. This time, I needed it to be different.
His hand moved to my hair, and then he did the one thing no dream had ever done—he kissed me, gently, reverently. No hallucination had ever held back the way he did now, as though he were scared to break me.
When he pulled away, his voice cracked. “Please forgive me.”
I studied his face, my fingertips brushing the hollow under his eyes, the marble curve of his jaw. He felt real. And the ache in my chest… it was dulling.
“You’re real,” I whispered. Not a question this time.
Relief softened his features, and he nodded.
The tears came suddenly, not from pain, but release. I pulled him to me, our lips meeting in a fevered kiss that tasted of desperation and everything we’d lost. He responded without hesitation, one hand tangled in my hair, the other holding me like I might disappear.
Eventually he pulled away, resting his forehead against mine.
“Do you still want me?” he asked quietly.
I looked into his eyes, steady now.
“Yes. I want you. Always.”
He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly.
“We still have a lot to talk about,” he said.
“I know,” I murmured.
I looked around the room for the first time since waking up. “Wait… I’m home?”
Edward nodded. “You collapsed at the house. We tried to wake you, but you were completely unresponsive. Carlisle thought you needed rest. I didn’t want to leave, but Charlie deserved to know where you were.”
My stomach dropped. “So… Charlie saw you?”
His jaw flexed. “Yes. He was… not thrilled.”
“What happened?”
Edward hesitated, his voice quiet. “He said if I ever set foot in this house again, he’d kill me. That’s why I came through the window. Technically, I didn’t break the rules.”
I winced, guilt blooming in my chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” His gaze was firm now. “I’m the one who hurt you. I deserve far worse than anything your father could throw at me.”
I shifted so my forehead rested on his shoulder. His fingers trailed gently through my hair, soothing but solemn.
“What now?” I asked.
“Charlie’s due home any minute. He’s going to want to talk. I didn’t tell him anything beyond that you were safe.”
“And you didn’t give him a cover story?” I groaned.
“I was hoping you’d be better at lying to your dad than I am,” he said with a faint smile.
We sat in silence, the clock ticking louder than usual. Then Edward stiffened beside me.
“He’s here.”
I shot upright. “What do I say?”
“I don’t know,” he whispered. “But I have to go.” He kissed my forehead and slipped silently out the window.
Seconds later, the front door creaked open. I heard heavy boots on the stairs. The door cracked, and Charlie peered in. Relief flooded his face when he saw me sitting up.
Charlie stood in the doorway, arms folded tight across his chest. He didn’t speak right away, and I could see the struggle in his eyes—how much he wanted to keep calm, how hard that was for him right now.
“I’m glad you’re awake,” he said at last. His voice was rough. “You gave me a hell of a scare.”
I sat up straighter. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
His jaw flexed. “Are you really? Because I don’t know what I’m looking at anymore. You’re sneaking around again, and now he’s back. What am I supposed to think?”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t know how to make him understand something he had no context for.
He kept going, not waiting for me to answer. “You look… better. Like you’ve come back to life or something. But I know what he did to you, Bella. I watched you fall apart. And now he just shows up and everything’s fine?”
“No,” I said, firmly. “Everything’s not fine. But I still love him.”
Charlie turned away from me, running a hand down his face. “You’re still just a kid.”
“I’m not,” I said. “I know what I want, and I’m not asking you to approve. I’m asking you to respect that I’ve made a choice.”
He stared at me again—like he was searching for something to hold on to. “So what, you’re moving back into that house with them?”
I nodded slowly. “I think it’s best—for both of us.”
He looked stricken. “So that’s it? After everything, you’re just leaving?”
“I don’t want to fight with you. But I can’t stay here if it means cutting him out of my life. I’m sorry, Dad.”
Charlie’s mouth worked like he wanted to argue, but no words came out. Eventually, he turned toward the door.
“I want you out by tonight,” he said flatly.
I waited until I heard his footsteps disappear down the stairs before I let myself move. I wasn’t surprised. I was heartbroken, but not surprised. We’d both seen this coming.
I buried my face in my pillow and screamed, half in frustration, half in victory. The window opened behind me, and I felt the familiar chill of Edward’s presence.
“I can stay with you, right?” I asked, looking up at him.
“Of course,” he said gently. “You always can.”
“You don’t look happy.”
“I just didn’t want you to have to choose. Not like that.”
“I didn’t,” I said. “He made the choice for me. And now I’m calling his bluff.”
He studied me for a moment, then gave a small smile. “You’re sure about living with a house full of vampires?”
I snorted. “Honestly? That’s the least complicated part of all this.”
He reached out and brushed his knuckles against my cheek. “If you’re sure.”
“I am.” I took a breath, then asked, “Was there something else you wanted to ask me?”
He nodded and hesitated, then slowly took my hand in his. “Am I too late, Bella? After everything… Jacob, the pain I left you with. Have I ruined the chance to be with you again?”
I blinked. “Edward… I told you already.”
“I know. But I didn’t hear the words.”
I leaned in, pressing my forehead to his. “Yes. I want you. I forgive you. I love you. What more do you need?”
He smiled softly, and for the first time in a long while, I felt hope settle in my chest.
“One more thing.”
I tilted my head.
He kissed the top of my hand, wove his fingers through mine, and looked straight into me.
“Marry me?”
The world slowed. My breath caught in my throat.
He didn’t pressure me. Didn’t speak. Just waited, eyes unwavering, like he’d wait forever if he had to.
Later, after Charlie had retreated and the house had gone still, I lay in my room staring at the ceiling. Edward was waiting in the backyard, giving me space. He’d said he didn’t want to pressure me about the proposal, and for once, he was keeping his word.
Marry him.
The words looped endlessly in my mind.
There was a part of me that still trembled from everything we’d just survived. There were bruises beneath my skin—memories of his absence, of waking up alone and cold, of wondering if he had ever really loved me at all. What if I said yes, and he changed his mind again? What if the Volturi didn’t wait? What if everything came crashing down before I ever got to live the life I wanted?
But the truth—the truth was that every thought, every what-if, still led me back to him.
I imagined the life without him. I’d lived that version already. It had nearly broken me.
The alternative was terrifying. But it wasn’t empty.
I walked to the window and opened it, the breeze curling around me. Edward looked up from where he stood below, his eyes catching mine, full of a question he wasn’t asking out loud.
I didn’t say anything. I just reached for his hand.
Not a yes. Not yet.
But not a no.
And somehow, I knew he understood.
1.7562 Billion Miles 