Chapter 13

Chapter 13

...

"I can't believe you waited so late to tell me," I complained, trying to keep my hair from flying everywhere as we shot down the road toward his grandparents house.

"Isabella, you spent four hours in the bathroom getting ready. How much more time do you need?"

I huffed, knowing he was right, but still feeling nervous. I had never met a relative of someone I was without having been paid to be there. I wondered if they would like me, or if they would see right through me and think I was some sort of gold-digging whore.

"What are they like?" I asked to distract myself.

"Well, my grandmother, Gianna, was a ballerina in La Scala Theatre Ballet in Milan. It's one of the most renowned ballet companies in the world, let alone the country. It's how she met my grandfather. It was just after the Second World War, and they had repaired the Teatro Alla Scala, the theater. My grandfather, Demitri, was a country farm boy who had come back from the army. He told me that seeing her play that night gave him a sense of peace that he thought he would never feel again after seeing all the horrors in war."

"Sounds like a real love story," I said, liking the soft, loving smile on Edward's face as he reminisced. I had seen a whole new side of him out here in Italy. It was like he had left all the stress and tension behind and was just living in the moment.

He shrugged. "I'd like to think so, but it wasn't all sunshine and roses. Life was hard after the war, and my grandmother's parents disowned her when she decided to marry my grandfather. She eventually had to quit ballet and work in a cafe for money. She miscarried three times before my mother was born, and my Uncle Caius was born two years later. They had their ups and downs, but I like to think that the pros outweighed the cons."

I nodded, digesting what he had said. "Okay. Do they know about your fetish?" I asked.

"To the extent that they know my character makes me pick woman that have a submissive streak. You have to remember that I spent quite a bit of my childhood with them, so they have noticed my quirks, but they've never questioned them. I don't feel completely comfortable explaining to them just what I like in my sex life."

"So, I shouldn't call you Papi while we're here?" I asked for clarification.

"I think that would be for the best," he said, though he sounded reluctant at best. I could understand where he was coming though. No grandparent needed to know the ins and outs of their grandchild's sex life.

My fingers picked at the hem of my red, sweetheart neckline dress with small straps. It fell just above my knee and had a large white bow clinching in the empire waistline. I had paired it with some white, leather pumps.

I wanted to look like me, but a more conservative version. I think with my hair pulled back in a loose bun, I conveyed the fun, young me mixed with the older, more sophisticated me.

"I look good, right?" I asked, and Edward glanced over at me quickly as he pulled up into what I assumed was his grandparents driveway.

"About as good as the last time you asked, and I think I told you that you looked beautiful," he told me dryly as the front door of the house opened, and an old couple stepped out.

He placed a reassuring kiss on my cheek and slid out of the car.

Edward, ever the gentleman, immediately came round to my side of the car once he had exited it, and opened the door for me. He offered his hand for me to take, and I grasped onto it, trying fruitlessly not to spread my legs too wide so that he wouldn't get a glimpse of my panties.

I smoothed down my dress once I was standing, worrying if maybe it was a little short. Edward placed a hand on the small of my back, guiding me easily across the drive to where his grandparents stood.

His grandmother stood poised and elegant, her simple dress flowing effortlessly over her body as her silver hair was pulled back in a long braid that fell to her waist. She reminded me of a swan in the way she held herself, her countenance one of gentle pride.

His grandfather stood tall, his shoulders wide, and his feet placed slightly apart. It was obvious that Edward took after him with the way his grandfather's personality told you not to mess with him. His blue eyes were soft, the edges crinkled as he smiled. If you just glanced at him, the way-even at his age-his muscles were thick and threatening, you would be intimidated.

But, like his wife, he held himself with a softness, which immediately put you at ease.

Edward didn't hesitate to greet them warmly with hugs and kisses, obviously having missed them, before pulling back. He pulled me forward until I stood in front of him, his hands resting on my shoulders.

"Nonna, Nonno, this is my Bellezza, Isabella," Edward introduced.

I wasn't sure how they would receive me, but I wasn't expecting the way his grandmother, his Nonna, pounced on me, wrapping her arms around me and planting kisses on both my cheeks.

"She is-how you say-gorgeous, no?" she said, her eyes shining as she cupped my face between her hands and looked me over.

"I'd like to think so, Nonna," Edward replied, amused. "Now, stop coddling her."

She gave a dramatic sigh before moving back slightly as Edward maneuvered me over to his grandfather. His grandfather took my hands in his weathered ones and gave them a comforting squeeze.

"Welcome, Isabella. I fear your name does not quite do you justice," he said, and I'm not embarrassed to say that I melted a bit. It was clear to me that Edward got his charm from his grandfather.

"Thank you. I'm so happy to be here," I practically gushed, feeling warm and squiggly-if that was even an explanation of feeling.

"Come, come," his Nonna said, ushering us out of the heat and into their beautiful little cottage. "Ciccino, take Edward to see the fields while I spend some time with his Bellezza."

It was more of a demand than a request, and I watched, feeling slightly scared as Edward disappeared off with his Nonno.

I followed Edward's Nonna into the kitchen where she quickly donned an apron and held another out to me. "Best way to bond is over a stove," she told me as I hesitantly took the apron, wondering if she would hate me once I told her that I couldn't cook.

"Umm, Mrs. Rossi?" I questioned, only to have her wave me off.

"Call me Nonna, child," she instructed, and I nodded.

"Nonna, I can't cook," I explained.

She looked at me like I had just told her Mussolini was one of the greatest men in history.

"Of course you can cook!" she exclaimed, astounded. "My Topolino cannot live on those pre-made dinners you see on tv. You must cook for him."

I shifted uncomfortably. "Um, actually, Edward is kind of the one who takes care of the cooking."

She looked momentarily horrified before her expression turned into one of determination. "I teach you. Cooking is easy."

"Edward has already tried," I argued weakly as she motioned for me to put on the apron.

She snorted. "My Topolino is a man. He does not know the secret ingredients needed for cooking. It's a gift only women have. He cook well, but I cook much better. You know why?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Because I cook with love. If you have love, you can cook anything."

I raised my eyebrows a bit disbelievingly, but pulled the apron over my head and tied the strings behind my back anyway.

"You learn by mistakes, no? You watch, you do, you learn. Let Nonna show you." She patted me on the cheek lovingly before turning around, starting to pull pans and ingredients out.

"We make Topolino's favorite: lasagna."

I wasn't sure how it was possible, but Nonna made cooking actually seem easy, not that I did that much. I mainly watched her, but she let me make the white sauce, supervising me the entire time, instructing and correcting me when I needed it.

She made everything from scratch, and I couldn't help but watch her with awe as she floated gracefully around the kitchen, herbs and spices being sprinkled in with decisive ease. She made me taste the tomato sauce before she mixed in the minced meat.

She chopped up the vegetables with a quick, easy flourish that I had only seen on TV.

I felt a little inept compared to her, but she showed some little secrets that made cooking a lot easier, and I was feeling a little more confident in my abilities by the time the lasagna was cooked.

"I made the sauce," I said proudly as Edward pulled my chair out for me.

"Are you sure it's edible then?" Edward teased as he settled in the seat beside mine, and I slapped his shoulder playfully.

"Hey, I'll have you know that Nonna said it was the best sauce she had ever tasted," I replied smugly. He leaned over and planted a quick kiss on my cheek before dragging his lips to my ear as he placed a hand on my knee.

"I think it's hot that you helped Nonna cook," he whispered, nipping my earlobe while sliding his hand further up my leg before turning back to his now full plate. My skin heated up, and I could feel his hand rubbing little circles into the flesh of my thigh.

I managed to pull my head out of the daze I had fallen into, letting my gaze wander over the table to see if anyone had noticed, but his grandparents seemed to be engrossed in their meals. Edward smirked at me as he raised a forkful of lasagna and slipped it into his mouth, groaning as he did so.

His tongue darted out to lick up a little bit of sauce on his lip while he eyed me hungrily. "Delicious," he murmured before turning back to his plate and taking a sip from his glass of wine. I held back a pitiful whimper, wishing desperately that I could pay him back for doing something like that in front of his grandparents.

My thoughts were disturbed by a snicker, and my head snapped up to see his grandfather trying to hide his laughter behind a napkin. It seemed that it wasn't only Edward that found teasing me amusing. I flushed a deeper pink and scowled down at my plate, thinking of ways that I could kill Edward, slowly and painfully.

"Topolino, stop teasing poor Isabella. Ciccino, stop laughing," Nonna ordered without even looking up from her plate. They both immediately looked chastised-a look I had never seen on Edward before-and apologized grudgingly.

The similarities between Edward and his grandfather were shocking. I had to remind myself that this was more his home than the one he had with his mother and stepfather, but it seemed sad to me that Edward never really spent time with his parents.

The rest of dinner passed amiably with Edward and his grandfather discussing the vineyard, while Nonna peppered me with questions about my life back in the States. I was careful not to give anything too incriminating away, like the fact that I was living with Edward, since I was sure she was already trying to plan our wedding. But, all in all, it was light and fun.

I can't lie and say that as soon as I tasted her cheesecake, I wasn't planning on going for a second. I was too skinny as it was, and I was on vacation. I was allowed to gain a little weight as long as I burned it off later-something that I was sure that Edward wouldn't mind helping me with.

After dinner, while Nonna and Nonno watched their evening soaps on the TV-apparently it was a tradition that Edward said had started when he was a kid-Edward took me out into the backyard, where there was a hammock. We laid on opposite ends, staring up at the sky, my bare feet firmly planted on Edward's chest

I could hear crickets and insects buzzing around as the night cooled, and the stars were out, something that was rare to see back home.

"Bellezza?" Edward called out, bringing my attention back to earth.

"Yes, Papi," I answered, figuring it was safe to use my more preferred name for him.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking recently, and I feel that I've underestimated you. You're a smart, capable young woman, and I shouldn't be hesitant to talk to you about things."

"Uh, sure," I said, trepidation leaking in.

"God, I'm making this worse by drawing it out, aren't I? I should just go ahead and say it," he mused, seeming to be talking more to himself than to me now. "Isabella, I'm falling for you," he said decisively.

I stared at him for a long moment, my mind not quite computing the information that he had given me. Sure, I probably shouldn't have been so surprised. When you live with and have sex regularly with a guy, feelings were bound to spring up sometime, but I had hoped for just a little more time. I didn't think I was ready for his declaration, and doubts started creeping in.

He was probably confusing sexual euphoria with the four letter word-which, by the way, was not fuck.

"Are you sure?" I asked doubtfully.

He chuckled lightly, the sound vibrating through his chest. "Bellezza, I wouldn't have brought you to meet my grandparents if I didn't have some semblance of feeling for you," he explained.

I mulled over his words for a moment. Suddenly I realized that he might actually want a proper answer in response to his declaration. He must have registered the complete panic written on my face because the truth of the matter was I wasn't ready to say those to anybody. Fuck, I hadn't said those words in years.

He laughed loudly. "Calm down. I don't expect you to say anything back, Bellezza. I'm just putting it out there so that you know where I stand," he said, amused.

I immediately relaxed. "Okay. It's not that I don't have feelings for you, Papi. Its just-"

"Isabella," he interrupted. "You don't have to explain anything to me. I know you aren't ready for this, but I'm a patient man, Bellezza, and I'll wait," he said simply, not putting an ounce of pressure in his tone.

"Thank you," I said, relieved.

He shrugged. "I want us to have an open, honest relationship, and you're strong enough to be able to take whatever I have to say, whether it's good or bad."

My chest squeezed, and I had a momentary flash of emotion spear through me at the amount of faith he had given me, and I vowed to not disappoint him, to make his faith unfounded.

...

"...and that's when we decided to use the whip on him," Edward concluded. My head shot up, and I looked at him in confusion.

"What?" I asked, quite sure that he had been talking about the summer he and Emmett decided to build their own motorcycle.

His lips twitched, and his eyes sparkled as he maneuvered the car through the dark night. "So, you were listening," he said, a chuckle escaping.

I huffed and rolled my eyes at him. It was no secret that I had been somewhat stuck in my head since he had declared himself to me, telling me that he was falling for me. I was still thankful he hadn't used the L-word because no matter what he thought, I wasn't quite ready for that.

"Since when did you become a comedian?" I asked dryly.

"Hey, watch the attitude," he warned me, sobering up quickly and donning his stern Papi-face.

"Sorry, Papi," I apologized graciously, and he lay a hand on my thigh, rubbing my skin soothingly.

We both stayed quiet for a while, just listening to the purr of the engine and watching the road ahead of us.

"You want to talk about it?" he asked, not needing to clarify what he was asking about since it was glaringly obvious.

I sighed and twisted in my seat to face him. "I just...I'm trying to wrap my head around what you told me earlier," I told him.

He nodded, shifting gears effortlessly, but didn't say anything, knowing that I just needed time to get it all out.

"I gave up on 'happily ever after's, or even having any kind of fulfilling, monogamous relationship, a long time ago. I shut down after what happened with Felix, and I'm only just seeing now how much damage has been done. It's like my mind refuses to accept the fact that you're being sincere. I won't lie, sometimes you scare me. Not in the traditional sense, but in the sense that you hold the power to destroy me, and I have to remind myself that I trust you, wholly and completely. I'm so damaged and broken, and you're...well, perfect."

He quirked an eyebrow at me and sighed. "Bellezza, I assure you that I am far from perfect. I've spent years learning from my mistakes and not letting them shape me. I refuse to lie to you and say that I haven't dated a lot of women. Successful women with the world in their palms, lawyers, socialites, even models, but they just never lasted. It was only when I discovered my fetish that I really began to understand why I felt so lonely when I had someone. I started to understand that when I was with them, I wasn't me."

I frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that I was brought up to be somebody specific, to go places that not everyone was capable of, and parts of me didn't fit into that mold, so I buried them. I became a twenty-four hour Senator, and it was exhausting. I forced myself to act a certain way, to talk a certain way, to behave a certain way, and it made me lonely and miserable. It even came to a point where I barely recognized myself anymore.

"With you, I can be the man I want to be, the man I am. I don't have to hide, and that, in itself, is its own kind of therapy. Being able to shed the Senator to become the man you need me to be is what I want, what I need. No one is perfect, least of all me, and you are going to have to realize that everyone has problems, obstacles that get in their way and knock them down. The important thing isn't how you fall, the important thing is how you choose to deal with it, how you get back up."

I, of course, knew that no one was perfect, but I could admit that I was envious of the way Edward held himself, no matter what happened. How he faced things head on, no matter the consequences. If he believed in it, he would support it, no matter what the critics thought of him.

I hated doubting him, I hated the way my own insecurities festered away inside me, twisting his words, trying to make me feel unworthy.

"I know, but sometimes my insecurities jump out at me because you're you, and I'm..." I wasn't even sure how to finish that sentence.

He squeezed my thigh. "You're my little girl, Bellezza, so don't let anyone or anything-including your insecurities-tell you otherwise, okay?"

I nodded, trying to blink away the tears that had risen up. I hated getting emotional, but I couldn't help it when he said things like that.

"Okay, Papi," I whispered, and he rubbed his thumb over my thigh in an effort to soothe me. I really wanted to throw myself over the console and into his lap. Not only would that be dangerous, we were also pulling up in front of our hotel, The Grand Tower.

It was a five-star hotel located right next to the Pallazzo Strozzi in the heart of Florence.

Edward got out quickly, handing the car keys to the valet and slipping him some money to make sure he was extra careful with the car before coming around to open my door.

I took his outstretched arm and exited the car gracefully. I shivered as his hand slipped from my hand until it was wrapped around my wrist, two fingers pressing against my pulse point.

He pulled me along behind him through the ornate reception area to the bank of elevators.

There was something about the way he held my wrist as he urged me along behind him that had my panties dampening. Maybe it was because it was like a show of ownership, of possession.

He wasn't holding my hand as if I were his lover, he was holding my wrist as if I were a scolded child in need of reminding of her place.

I licked my suddenly dry lips as I stood slightly behind Edward in the elevator, his grip on my wrist never loosening. My mind wandered to all the things he could do to show me my place, and I squirmed thinking just how much I loved his playful spanks when he was fucking me from behind.

The sexual tension was heavy in the air, and I kept my eyes glued to the passing numbers of floors, begging for the elevator to quicken. As soon as the doors ping and slid open, Edward strode down the hall with me in tow.

I barely noticed when he whipped out the key card and slid it into the lock. He wasted no time in dragging me into our suite once it was unlocked, barely giving me time to catch my breath before he crushed me between his body and the door.

His hands drifted to my hips as he trailed his nose up the length of my neck until his mouth reached my ear. "You don't see yourself clearly, my Bellezza," he murmured, and I practically whimpered as his lips wandered along my jaw, ghosting along my skin. "And I'm going to correct that."

He crashed his lips to mine, cradling my face between his hands as he dominated my mouth. My lips yielded under the pressure of his, and I melted into him as his tongue plunged into my mouth. We stood there, against the door, until our lips were bruised and swollen. My chest heaved, and I whimpered as he tore his mouth away from mine, his eyes dark and dangerous.

"Strip," he ordered, his voice low and gravelly as he stepped away from me, grabbing the back of his polo shirt and pulling it over his head to reveal the sinewy muscles of his chest. He raised an eyebrow at me when he saw that I hadn't moved, and I quickly kicked off my heels and unpinned my hair.

He seemed pleased by my cooperation and walked into the bedroom. He closed the door behind him, silently telling me that I was not to go in there without permission. I finished stripping out of my clothes, my heart beating loudly in my chest as I folded them and placed them on a chair neatly. There was no need for me to get an unnecessary spanking for being messy.

I walked over to the bedroom and knocked on the door nervously, wondering what he had planned for tonight. He answered it wearing only a towel and ushered me in, guiding me toward the full-length mirror. My heart stuttered because I hadn't actually looked at myself fully naked in a mirror since I was a call girl.

Fear crept up my spine, and I closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to look at myself. It was only when I heard Edward's towel drop to the floor that I dared peek. He came up behind me, pressing his erection into the small of my back as he wrapped his arms around my waist, splaying his hands over my stomach.

"Tell me, Bellezza, when you look into the mirror, what do you see?"

I took a deep breath and let my gaze run over my body, no longer shying away from it. I wasn't quite sure what I was expecting when my critical gaze looked for some kind of imperfection that would make me feel more insecure about myself, but I found that while I was slightly thinner, I still looked the same as I used to.

"Me," I whispered, and he cocked his head to the right.

"What else?" he urged.

I widened my perspective, making room for Edward in my outlook. I looked at the way he stood protectively behind me, his body curved around me, almost as if it was shielding mine. His hands that were splayed over my stomach suddenly seemed so much bigger as they completely covered the expanse of skin.

I looked so small and fragile tucked against his chest, my eyes looking almost shy as they met their reflection.

I had always put so much stock in how I looked-it had been part of the job-but after my parents died I had stopped caring for a while

I couldn't deny that I wasn't scared to see how I looked now, naked as the day I was born, but whatever I had expected to see there wasn't there.

I guess I figured that there would some sort of drastic change in me, but there wasn't. My figure was a little fuller and my eyes held a brightness that hadn't been there before, a brightness that he'd given me.

Happiness.

Fulfillment.

He had given me a place to be myself, and it was right by him.

I peeked from under my eyelashes, my lips twitching as a smile threatened to break across my face. It was like I saw what he saw, for a moment. I was still delicate, fighting my way through bullshit, but I also held a sense of determination and faith.

"I see her," I said quietly. "I see your little girl. I see what I want to become. I see who I'm becoming. I see you. I see the way you protect me and guide me. The way you silently promise me that you'll always be there, waiting for me to be ready. You aren't giving up on me. I'm not perfect, my body isn't perfect, but it doesn't matter because I'm enough as I am."

He smiled and kissed the side of my head. "That is what I see when I look at you. Isee you, Bellezza. You are my little girl, my Bellezza, my Isabella. I don't need you to be perfect, I need you to be you. I need you to know that I'll be fighting with you every step of the way. I'm not going to give up on you. You have to let your insecurities go because they are not only hurting you, but they're also hurting me."

"I don't want to hurt you," I told him earnestly.

"I know, Little One, but when you let your insecurities get the better of you, it hurts me because I know that you're hurting," he explained, and I nodded.

I tilted my head to the side as he started kissing along my neck and his hands started to wander over my body. One dipped down to the apex of my thighs, nudging my legs further apart, while the other cupped one of my tits, palming the ample flesh. I moaned softly, spreading my legs as his fingers stroked over my folds, not entering me, just teasing me.

I squirmed, watching everything take place before me in the mirror. My breathing was labored as he spread my folds wide so that I had a good view of my glistening, pink flesh. His thumb flicked over my swollen clit as he penetrated me with two fingers, moving in a slow, measured pace as they entered and exited my body.

My legs shook as I forced them to hold my weight, and my eyelids fluttered, wanting to close but also not wanting to miss a moment of what he was doing to my body. I could feel his erection pressing more insistently against me, and I reached behind, taking him in my hand, stroking him.

He groaned, burying his head in the juncture of my neck and shoulder as his hips thrust into my hand.

His fingers twisted and curled inside of me, dragging over the rough spot in my pussy as his thumb flicked over my clit. I cried out in pleasure, arching my back as he repeated the motion again. I could barely concentrate on anything as he quickened the pace of his fingers, my arousal dripping down onto his hand freely.

His other hand worked over my tits, alternating between the two of them as he fondled and played with them. It was almost too much to take, watching it as well as experiencing it, and I understood somewhat as to why Edward enjoyed watching himself fuck me.

My eyes slid shut as a more powerful wave of pleasure washed over me, and I threw my head back, my whole body bowing and trembling. My legs buckled, and it was only the hand playing with my tits that kept me from collapsing as I shattered in his arms.

I mewled, crying out his name as my pussy clenched down around his fingers, my juices gushing down my thighs and over his hand.

I wasn't sure how it happened, but one minute I was standing with rather bleary eyes, looking in the mirror, and the next, I was sitting down on Edward's lap, my back pressed into his chest.

I met his eyes in the mirror as he grasped my hips, palming them gently before lifting me up so that I could tuck my legs on either side of his. It seemed that he had pulled the armchair from the other side of the room in front of the mirror. How I hadn't noticed it before, I wasn't sure, but then I had been avoiding looking anywhere in that direction when he had first brought me in.

His dark gaze bore into mine intensely as he slowly lowered my body onto his. I whimpered at the feel of him entering my body and bit down on my lip, watching myself slide down on him until I had taken all of him inside me.

He brushed my hair out of my face and placed his hand under my chin, forcing me to tilt it back. His fingers slowly applied pressure, pressing the tips of his fingers into the sides of my neck until my throat felt tight and my breathing became strained. My hands gripped the arms of the armchair as I lifted myself up before sliding back down his shaft.

His teeth nipped at my throat before moving to suck the sensitive flesh behind my ear.

"Look at us," he ordered, and my eyes flickered over to the mirror. I had to bite my lip to hold back an embarrassingly loud moan. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the way his hips flexed up, his body corresponding with mine as I moved over him. He reached down, parting my folds so that I had a clear view of him thrusting into my body.

"You see that?" he breathed into my ear, his hot breath fanning over the side of my face. "Do you see the way my cock stretches your little pussy, filling your body?"

I whimpered and nodded, unable to hide how hot I found watching the thick, hard flesh of his reddened cock, glistening with my juices, slide in and out of me. I bounced on his lap, desire churning in my stomach as we both watched where we were joined.

I loved how strong and big he looked compared to my small body with its delicate curves and edges. He moved the hand on my neck to my mouth, running the pad of his thumb over my swollen parted lips, smudging my lipstick.

"You like seeing the way my cock invades your body. I can see the way your little pussy is weeping for its master. I can feel the way it's latching onto it like it never wants to let my cock go."

I shivered, my heavy-lidded eyes meeting his in the mirror. We were both flushed, a light sheen of sweat covering our bodies as I continued moving over him. We were in sync, each pull balanced with a push.

The only noises in the room were the soft pants, random cries of pleasure, and the slick sounds of sex. I lay my head on his shoulder, turning my face toward his neck, almost as if I were hiding my face as I peered out from behind my hair into the mirror. I brushed my lips along the curve of his neck as I tried to imagine us, our future.

I knew that if our relationship did last, it wouldn't easy for us. I wasn't stupid enough to not think my past would come back up at some point. Edward lived his life in the spotlight, and even when he stepped down, there would always be some sort of interest in what he did, and who he was with.

They would dig and find out that I was an ex call girl, and it would raise questions. I didn't want to tarnish Edward's reputation just because I used to be some high class whore.

I knew Edward, and I knew that he would have thought all of this through before admitting to having a deeper attraction to me. He never looked at me as if I was less because of my past, and from tonight, I knew that he saw past that and saw me.

It didn't take long for me to cum with him following soon after. He ushered me into bed, spooning behind me, the sounds of the city below us filtering through the window. I let my mind wander to copper haired children and big houses in the country. With Edward's arms wrapped so tightly around my waist, the future didn't seem so scary.

After he had fallen asleep, I lay awake thinking hard about everything. I could feel my throat choke up with emotion as I raised our entwined hands and brushed my lips over his.

A tear trickled down my cheek. "I think I'm falling for you too," I whispered in the dark, my voice shaking. He shifted behind me, drawing me even closer as he tucked his head into my neck. My heart jumped in my throat as I wondered if he was, in fact, asleep, but I didn't dare turn around, and he never responded, so I let it go and just basked, enjoying the moment.

I didn't know what the future held for me—it seemed to be getting more twisted and complicated as the days went by—but I just put myself in Edward's hands, trusting him to not steer me wrong.