Five Years Later

"Bella!" I yell from our bedroom closet, cringing at the way my voice echoes as it bounces off the now bare walls. "Did you already pack my UDub Sweatshirt?"

"No." I hear her yell back but there is laughter and mischief in her voice.

That could mean anything. What is my wife up to now?

I'm knee deep in cardboard boxes, rolled carpet and wrapped furniture. The only discernible piece of our bedroom set is the queen size mattress sitting in the middle of the hardwood floor, which I've already tripped over a few times in my quest. We're moving tomorrow, saying goodbye to our college apartment of four years to a house in Olympia.

I can't fucking wait to start the next chapter of our lives.

"Well, I can't find it."

This is ridiculous. I set the damn shirt aside because I wanted to wear it for moving day and damn me if I packed all my other clothes and there is no way, I'm going to go digging through garment bags and suitcases. Besides Bella packed them so neatly, I think she would freak on me if I did. Ans she called me the neat freak?

"Maybe you're not looking hard enough, Maestro."

I look up and she is standing there, silhouetted in the doorway with a come-hither smile, her hand on her hip, wearing my UDub sweatshirt and God help me, nothing else.

I swallow. Hard. I think I even growl.

There's something about Bella wearing my clothes that does something primal to me. Maybe it's the scent of her that lingers on them after I take them off of her or maybe it's some territorial male claiming thing like a hickey. I don't know. I'll never tell her how much I like it though. I would have no clothes left. But come to think about the number of times I've caught her wearing my shirts, I think she already knows.

"Do you want it back?" she asks. Her tone is innocent but her walk as she makes her way towards me is anything but.

"What if I do?"

"Hmmm." Her index finger plays across her bottom lip and then she shrugs. "Well, I suppose I'll have to give it you then."

In one swift movement, she pulls the shirt over her head and lets it drop to the floor.

Vixen Bella has come out to play and I am more than ready. She giggles when I tackle her to the bed and nip at her jaw.

Give it to me, indeed.

"David Lee Roth definitely had you in mind when he wrote 'Hot for Teacher'" I growl into the crook of her neck. "I can hear all those seventeen year old boys now, all clamoring to get their education in Romeo and Juliet from the very hot Mrs. Cullen."

"And what of you, Mr. Cullen?" she whispers against me, her fingers tugging at my hair as stroke her neck with my tongue. "All those little girls wanting you to tune their instruments."

I can't help but snicker. As if she could compare me teaching music to elementary school kids to her educating teenagers in English. I was seventeen once. I know what goes on in the minds of boys.

"So are we taking a break from packing or are we done?"

"We're done."

"Good," I smile right before I claim her lips with my own.

XXXXX

Disentangling my limbs from her sleepy ones, I pull myself up off of the mattress and kiss her brow. She sighs softly in her sleep and rolls over.

I wish I could sleep.

I can't.

My brain won't shut off and I feel antsy.

She said everything was packed but it can't hurt to take another look around, just to make sure. Quietly, I navigate around the obstacle course that is my bedroom, down the hall and into the main living space that contains a kitchen that opens up into a dining and living room area. A sense of melancholy envelopes me.

This was our first apartment together as husband and wife. We made so many memories here, I can almost see the ghosts of us lingering in every corner.

Bella cooking at the stove while I steal kisses at the back of her neck.

Making love against the counters, on the piano, against the wall, on the dining room table…well, just about everywhere.

Rubbing her tired feet and aching legs on the sofa after our Karate lessons at the Dojo down the block.

Yeah, my girl is a badass red belt.

I look at the floor remembering all the times she "practiced" techniques with me. We'd push the furntiture against the wall and and our sparring sessions would usually end with me on the floor, her on top and the only things doing any sparring were our tongues.

Tomorrow, though, we'd be moving into our house, complete with the white picket fence. I had come into a large trust fund left to me by my biological parents that had grown a significant amount of interest over the years. I had never seen so many 0's next to each other before and nearly fell to my knees when Dad's attorney handed me the certified check.

Bella, being Bella, didn't want any of it. She would rather live in this small apartment than to use "my money", as she put it. It took quite a bit of convincing to get through to her that when we married everything that was mine became ours.

I still don't think she's convinced. I'm not sure she ever will be. She feels that she needs to balance things somehow.

Silly girl.

She gives me herself, her heart, her soul every day. That is priceless. No amount of money could ever compare to that.

After chugging down some orange juice from the container (Bella would have my head if she saw me), I make my way around the kitchen, checking drawers and cabinets for anything we might have forgotten to pack up.

Satisfied with that, I begin to check the closets and the living room until I stub my big toe on an errant box planted right in the middle of the floor. I bite my lip to keep from yelping.

Fuck, that hurts.

I take a closer look at my attacker; a small plastic container sitting next to a large opened cardboard box.

Aha!

My late night quest for unpacked objects has been validated.

Picking it up, I see there is a note attached to the top of it.

Edward,

I knew you would be up, scouring the apartment, doing your ritual "idiot check" as you like to put it. Before we can close the chapter on this part of our lives and embark on a new one, there is something I would like you to see.

My story and what eventually became our story; the one we are still writing.

There are things in these pages that I have never had the courage to show you or anyone until now.

It's time.

I love you,

Bella

With shaking hands, I take the lid off the box and suck in a sharp breath.

Notebooks.

The notebooks.

The ones I would catch her writing furiously in but would never tell me the contents, no matter how many times I asked her to.

"It's not time, yet," she would say always followed with. "Soon, when I can finally put this behind me."

Was she saying it was behind her now?

Grabbing the small stack, I sit on the floor against the plastic wrapped sofa and open the notebook marked simply with the number one.

I read…no, I devour. Every sentence, a painful breath, constricting my chest and filling my heart as I greedily inhale the words.

Her words.

Welcome to Phoenix

I remember the first time I saw that sign.

I was staring blankly out of the dusty window of our old Ford at the looming city rising from the brown of the desert.

"I have a really good feeling about this place, baby." Renee's smile was wide as she glanced over at me.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

It was her standard catch phrase for every town she dragged us to. I had stopped believing her after the first few times.

Her "good feelings" came with an expiration date.

I stopped becoming close friends with people. We never stayed long enough in one place for it to be worth it. Even when I would visit my dad every summer before I turned thirteen, I didn't spend too much time with other kids my age. They seemed to all know each other from birth and I was the curious outsider whose dad was the chief of police in a town of less than 3,000 people.

Just like me, I think. She was just like me.

Standing on the edge of the circle but never becoming part of it until she led me into the center.

I rub the ache in my chest and continue reading.

Phil's personality changes were subtle at first. He would criticize her but in the nicest way possible...it was patronizing and condescending and you wouldn't even recognize it for what it was but like I said was perceptive and read in between the lines. I saw how everything he said chipped away at her self esteem, made her more emotionally dependent on him.

I hated it. I began to hate him.

I began to wonder if I really was jealous...resentful that someone else had taken the lead with Renee'. No. I wanted her to be happy. I wanted her to have someone else in her life that she could depend on and take care of her. I wouldn't feel so guilty then when I went away to college; which I had every intention of doing. But I did not want it like this...a slow acting cancer that was eating away everything that Renee was.

He flung her off him like she was nothing but a fly sending her flying back onto the broken glass of the lamp. I scrambled up and jumped on him, ripping at his hair, trying to gouge at his face with my blunt nails.

Throwing me over his head like I weighed nothing, I landed head first into the wall.

I remembered nothing after that.

Except for the screams.

They would haunt me until the day I died.

Charlie told me I died once. It was on the way to the hospital before he was even aware what had happened. He was profoundly grateful they were able to bring me back.

I wasn't.

Would I have been sent to heaven or hell?

Oh, Bella. My heart breaks a little more. Somehow I knew, I've always known that she felt this way but seeing it in words, giving proof to what was only theory…it guts me.

I would live with Charlie now. He was all I had left.

Another boy came into the office walking…no…not walking…sauntering with his bed tousled penny bronze hair and a secret smirk.

I wondered what the joke was.

I wondered why I was suddenly so interested.

Me, she's describing me. I remember that day so clearly too. How just hearing her voice affected my hormonal teenage body. From that day on, Bella had been it for me.

I was the shiny new toy and everyone wanted to play with me.

At least that's how it felt.

Dazed, I didn't register the sound of feet running towards me, until I saw a shadow blocking out the almost non-existent sun in the afternoon sky.

I looked up into the greenest pair of eyes I had ever seen…deep pools of emerald...and a thick head of bronze hair.

The scars. I couldn't let them see the scars.

I realized I couldn't do this...couldn't be this normal person that joked in class that began to feel something I couldn't want with a boy that I couldn't have.

And my smile died. Just like that.

So did Edward's and I felt horrible for it.

He had a beautiful smile. He should always be smiling.

His flirtatious green eyes sparkling, mesmerized me until I remembered that he only said that because he didn't know me.

The question was did I want him to?

No.

It was too risky.

For me. For him.

I was going down alone in this sinking ship called my life.

If she only knew then of my own fears and anxieties, of my own obsession with her. So much time was wasted in those first few weeks.

Where did I fit in?

Did I fit in anywhere?

Probably not.

"Because I feel broken. Worse than that. I feel like I break everything around me."

I caught Edward's eyes narrowing at me.

It was obvious he didn't want to be near me.

It shouldn't hurt but it did.

I shouldn't care but I did.

I spent the rest of the day vacillating between urgent anticipation and cold dread at going out with Alice and the others while trying to ignore the bold faced stares of my other classmates and their obvious feelings of distaste over my choice to sit with the Cullen's and the Hale's.

It was like there was some unwritten social code and I had violated it.

Charlie needed a break.

From me.

Even if he didn't voice the words.

It was important to him that I would be okay.

So it was important to me to make him believe I was.

Even if it was a lie.

When I was finally sure I could look at him without falling apart completely, I glanced over to where he was seating beside me.

His green eyes looked worried; anxious and I wanted nothing more than to make him feel better.

"I'm so embarrassed. You must think I am the world's biggest sissy." I said; wincing at how hoarse my voice was. "I'm just not good with blood."

There, that sounded like a plausible excuse.

No need to let him in on how damaged I really was.

His hand found mine again and intertwined our fingers together; his thumb caressing circles in the back of my hand. The electric sensation was back. I could feel the pulses between our mingled flesh.

It felt so good...too good.

I could still see the dismay in Dr. Platt's eyes when I revealed to her mine and Renee's nomadic lifestyle. The way she looked made it seem so wrong and maybe…just maybe deep down, I knew it was. Maybe that was my fault too. If I spoke up and said something, she may have settled down, we may have never moved to Phoenix, she would have never met that monster. And she would still be here with me.

But I had remained quiet…letting her take the lead because it made her happy.

I am stunned.

And I am in pain.

Because I know it's not true.

He can't see the scars that mar my body.

Or taint my soul.

He was still ranting on about hidden dangers.

And I was the most hidden danger of all.

"Don't you have anything to say?" he asked.

"You just called me beautiful." I whispered disbelievingly.

"You know, Swan." Jessica sneered getting in my face so I had to take a few steps back. "You may not care now but you will when everyone turns their backs on you, even the untouchable ones" It was a comment about Edward that she knew I would understand. "There is only so long you can play the dead mother sympathy card before everyone figures out your mom was just a flake who got knocked up right after high school. Maybe that's why you and Rosalie get along so well…you're cut from the same cloth."

I felt dizzying shock invading my brain, turning my veins to ice. Nausea rolled. I was barely aware of running footsteps or the shouts coming from down the hallway as I nearly dove for the bathroom door, hurdling myself through it.

Shaking, I ran into one of the stalls and wretched, my whole body convulsing with the force of it. Suddenly Alice was there, kneeling beside me holding my hair away from my face, offering solace in a soothing tone that didn't seem to penetrate through the haze of anguish smothering me.

Visions of Rosalie…of me…of Phil swam in my head, melding together.

I wretched until I was dry heaving and even then I couldn't seem to stop.

Was he as aware of me as I was of him?

Impossible.

What was I next to Edward Cullen but a mere shell masquerading as a human being? A poisonous parasite that sucked the life from everyone around me; including my new found friends.

Maybe I should end this before it went any deeper.

A poisonous parasite?

The idea is so absurd, I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

It was selfish of me but I wanted to remain friends with Alice, Emmett...and Edward. Most of all Edward. Even Rosalie, who I had much more in common with than I could have ever anticipated and Jasper as well.

"Who have you hurt, Bella?"

"Ren...my Mom, Charlie" I answer listlessly, the agony barreling through me. I wrap my arms around my middle. I can't...I begin to rock back and forth in the chair, shaking my head. I look up at Esme. Her face is no longer impassive like a doctor, it's twisted in pain.

"You." I whisper.

The nightmares arrive every evening like clockwork, so I guess they have become part of my routine as well. Charlie, no longer stumbles frantically into my room when I begin to scream. He has become conditioned to the sound and sleeps right through it now.

It's a burden of guilt off my shoulders.

Edward.

His mere nearness evoked such a depth of feeling within me; like a warm, protective embrace.

I craved it.

I craved him.

The fact that he may feel the same terrified me.

Because once he knew the truth, saw the extent of my sins…my damage, it would change.

And that would be my final breaking point.

"Never," I whisper under my breath. "My feelings woould never change."

Even now knowing where the story ended up, I am in denial. Moisture pools in my eyes and tracks down my cheeks, my nose burns and my throat feels raw. Sucking in a sharp breath, I force my eyes back to the tear-stained page, my own new ones, mxing with her dry ones that have settled into the pulp of the paper and left a darkened rim where they had landed.

In the dark confines of the car, I looked at him.

He looked at me.

The laughing stopped.

We both stared.

Gazed.

Awareness licked at me, heating me.

My breath hitched.

I nervously licked my bottom lip.

His green eyes became a dark forest.

His Adams apple bobbed in his perfect throat.

I shivered.

I cried for him…for the anguish etched so deeply in his face.

I cried for me…for being so broken.

I cried for us…for what could have been.

What should have been.

My eyes meet and drown in a bottomless abyss of liquid green pain.

I did this.

I broke this beautiful boy.

I was a monster.

Putting the book down, I rub the heels of my hands into my eyes to push back the tears. Her words, both a gift and a curse, give me a new understanding at just how much she has overcome. Even with the evidence in my lap, I cannot reconcile how Bella felt about herself, how so very twisted from the truth.

I need to take a break.

Scrubbing my hand down my face, I peel myself of the sofa in search of a bottle of something, anything only to realize it has all been packed away.

Feeling the magnetic pull that is always there, I look in on Bella, sleeping peacefully, her hands tucked under her chin and her legs curled up towards her chest. Tenderness washes over me as I watch her, breathing softly into the pillow.

I'm bone tired but I don't want to stop reading. There is so much more yet to know and reading her words makes me feel like I can read her mind. It's powerful and heady and would treasure this always.

After pulling the sheet around her shoulder and soothing a trembling hand over her hair, I go back to the book I left behind.

I had to do this.

I owed him this much after all.

If he walked away it just might break me but at least I would know.

I nodded; biting down on my bottom lip and in one quick motion, like peeling off a band aid, I raised my shirt over my head with trembling fingers and let it drop to the floor beside me.

I wanted to tell him I wasn't worth it but I no longer had the ability to speak. His lips which had so lovingly caressed my scars, now covered my own in a searing kiss.

Here I was trying so hard not to destroy him with my own pain but my constant pushing him away was making his own even worse.

I didn't know why he loves me but he does.

I could feel it emanating from him.

I could fight no more.

Resolve made be brave.

Slowly, I leaned in and put my lips on his.

It's too soon. He doesn't want sex...does he? Oh don't be naive, Bella. He's seventeen. What seventeen year old boy doesn't want sex?

I suddenly don't know if I can do this. I can't give him what he wants. And then...

And then...

He's going to leave.

"I was wrong," Vicki said. "You're not a cutter at all, are you? But you've been marked all the same. I bet right now you're fucking terrified of the guilt, of the feeling you're not worth it, that you're dirty…tainted somehow…terrified of the never ending nightmares that are just as scary in the light of day will never go away."

I found myself nodding at her words, no matter how sinister they rang in my ear. No one had ever spoken so crudely and honestly about it before. They all seemed to tip toe on egg shells around it…around me.

It was…refreshing. I liked it.

Her anger, her bitterness, her direct way of getting to the core…it strengthened me somehow.

My heart pulses rapidly as I finally speak. No more hiding, terrified and afraid in the darkened corners of my mind. It gives him power. Power I need to take back.

For the first time in a long time, I am optimistic that somehow, I'm going to be okay.

He engulfed me in his strong arms, holding me tightly to his chest like he never wanted to let go. I didn't want him to.

But I couldn't have him questioning me or the depths of what I felt. He had to trust me. I knew he had his own issues with abandonment and beyond any hurt I felt, I knew that was the reason behind everything he just said.

I quickly closed the distance between us, motivated by that magnetic pull that was always there, drawing me to him. My arms wrapped around him and I soothed his back with my hands. I had to admit, the idea of breaking things off, however fleeting, did come to mind. I didn't want to. It would've reinforced all his fears and I couldn't do that.

I knew it! I slam the page with the palm of my hand. She was thinking of ending it right there in the music room. The pain of that day hits me again like it was yesterday and I can still picture the desolate look in her eyes with ease.

It was time to let go of our fears.

The decision made, I stood up, letting the blanket fall from my shoulders. He watched me warily wondering what I would do next. His eyes widened when I kicked off my sneakers and pulled my top over my head.

I pivoted around and gasped at what I saw before me.

This couldn't be happening.

He was here!

Phil was here.

He was smirking at me with his head cocked to one side...taunting me silently.

What were ripples of fear were now full blown waves of terror.

Your voice is a weapon.

I heard Jasper's instruction in my head.

I screamed.

Pain.

Darkness.

Be smart and play it cool.

Concentrate on your surroundings.

Look for opportunities to escape.

Breathe, Bella. Just fucking breathe.

You are well and truly fucked this time, Swan.

For the first time since this whole debacle started, I let my mind drift to Edward.

His face appeared in my mind, bronze locks mixed with blonde, gold and brown streaks, his eyes dark green and full of devastation, his full lips pleading, saying the same thing over and over again.

"Don't leave me, don't ever leave me"

I won't Edward. I'll never leave. I'm trying. It's so hard but I'll do it. I'll get away somehow.

I prayed they weren't empty promises.

You only have one shot, Bella. Make it a good one. Attack with the unexpected.

It was Jaspers voice again.

Phil's gun went from Charlie, to Edward back to Charlie again. He cocked the trigger and his grip on me tightened.

Two against one.

But he was the one with the gun.

He had the power.

Everything that happened next happened so fast. Concentrating my rage, I swung my arm up and stabbed Phil in the face. With a roar, he grabbed the skin at my throat and flung me with all his strength. I landed with a shriek and a crack, barely hanging on to consciousness. I heard two gunshots, a thud and two sets of footsteps running.

Chase entered the courtroom, wearing defiance on his face and an orange jumpsuit over his body; his hair buzzed close to his scalp made him look meaner. Not even the fact that he had chains from wrists to ankles, led in on leash like the animal he was did nothing to quell the fear that sprang from my belly.

Edward's hand threaded and locked with mine were my touchstone throughout countless hours of testimony.

Chase was never called to the stand. He just sat there with cold, lifeless eyes; his only betrayal of emotion was the tiny, rapid pulse of anger where his jaw met his temple.

His attorney tried to rip my testimony apart; making me succumb to the tears I had so valiantly tried to keep at bay through the whole process. When my eyes met with Edward's over the witness stand, I knew I had to keep fighting for my composure, if not for me then for him.

It nearly worked until Chase mumbled something I couldn't hear. But Edward did. He went ballistic and tried to attack. Charlie had to hold him back. I'd never seen Edward so viciously angry and violent; teeth bared, hands clenched into strike-forced fists and his face contorted in rage. To think, I played a role in that breaks my heart.

Guilty on all counts.

It was over.

Chase would be put away for a very long time.

I could begin living again.

One Year Later

The room is crowded; row upon row of chairs filled with strangers; tittering in hushed whispers, all of them waiting for the seat in the front to be filled. Alice was instrumental in setting everything up, the little event planning general that she is. She had taken it upon herself to see everything to fruition and even now, I spot her barking orders to the staff, to the security detail and even to Rose and Mom who are trying their best not to throttle her. Even Dad, Charlie and Emmett, who are moving easels and stacks of books from one side of the room to the other look like they are about ready to give up.

So many people are here for Bella and I think I am more nervous than she is.

Bella sucks in a breath beside me as she peeks through the partially opened curtain at the crowd. She looks a little green and small beads of perspiration have broken out above her brow and over her lip. I gently rub circles into her back knowing how it soothes her.

"You look beautiful, baby," I tell her because it's the God's honest truth. She has filled out in all the right places since high school, becoming less frail and all woman.

My woman.

My wife.

She is dressed in a deep purple peasant dress that falls off one shoulder exposing the gentle curve of her neck and all I can think about is attaching my lips there and pulling her into the nearest alcove to have my way with her.

The thought has me shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Bella gives me a knowing look punctuated with an amused smirk as she bumps her hip playfully against me.

Later, her eyes say.

Oh baby, I'm going to hold you to that and every available surface I can get you on.

But today is her day. She has sat through more than her share of my students' music recitals without batting an eyelash. My students. Everyone expected me to follow in Dad's footsteps and become a doctor. Ironically it's Emmett who is pre-med with a specialty in sports medicine.

"I'm not late am I?" Jasper says rushing towards us, barely breaking a sweat. He's still dressed in his uniform complete with gun secure in its holster. Part of me still can't get over the fact that my best friend and brother-in-law is a cop. Charlie had been so impressed with Jazz's deductive reasoning in figuring out Coach Chase was in on Bella's kidnapping all those years ago that he had suggested Jazz look into a career in law enforcement. Now Jazz is an officer for the Seattle Police Department.

"You're just in time," Bella says giving him a tight hug. "I thought you had to work."

Jazz snorted. "And miss my sister-in-law's moment in the sun? Never. Besides Alice would have me castrated if I did."

"Alice has wanted to have you castrated since my nephew entered the world," I chuckle. Because she was so small, Alice did not have the easiest of births bringing Brandon Carlisle Hale into the world. It was a painful delivery and Alice had no problem letting Jazz know all about it in great vivid detail during the delivery. Dad said the maternity ward had been laughing for weeks afterward.

"It couldn't have been too bad since we're going on number two now." The pride is evident in Jazz's eyes and I could swear he puffs out his chest a little.

"Only because we're doing c-section this time, Mister." Alice, in all her seventh month glory lumbers towards us, one hand pressed to her lower back and the other swiping a stray hair from her forehead.

I think she's only partially joking.

Bella's eyes meet mine. She is glowing and I have to resist settling my hand to her still-flat abdomen. It's our secret, just for a little while longer.

"It's just about time," Alice interrupts our little moment. "Are you ready for your big debut, Bella?"

She peeks out again at the audience and takes a deep breath. "I am."

"Break a leg, baby," I tell her, wrapping my arms around her and pressing my lips to ear. She is trembling slightly in my arms and her heart thunders against my chest. This moment has been six years in the making; six years of nightmares, of sleepless nights putting furious pen to paper, six years of rumors and speculation finally put to rest. Many have tried to tell her story and all have failed.

"We have a very special guest today, as I am sure you all know," The proprietor of the Port Angeles bookstore begins her short, practiced speech. "Her story made the headlines many times over and the magnitude of it rocked our small community six years ago. Today, she will speak of what happened in her own words for the very first time…"

Bella POV

It's surreal to think that what had initially started as cathartic release and a written journey to heal my soul, turned into this; four hundred pages in between two hard covers backed by a major publishing company. It had never been my intention to make it public. I even refused all interviews, press and book deals that poured in before, during and after the difficult trial.

Until I finally let Edward read it. It was the last night in our college apartment. Graduation was over and we were finally going to be moving into our house…our home.

"You need to tell the world your story, baby," he told me in a gruff, sleep-deprived voice as he curled his body around mine in the bed.

"But-"

He silenced me with another kiss, cupping the back of my neck with his palm before he slowly pulled away.

"I've never read anything more beautiful, more poignant in my life." His voice was choked with emotion and I knew his red eyes weren't only from lack of sleep. "It's time, love."

I brought the idea up to Esme, who immediately latched onto it.

"I think it would be wonderful, Bella. You've overcome so much. Think of how others would be helped by your words."

So, I edited it, revised it and sent it off to one of the publishers that originally offered me a book deal. I had thought it too late. No one would be interested in my story now, so long after the fact. I was wrong.

My Magnum Opus, Edward called it when we received an advanced copy. No, I think, settling my hand over my stomach; this is my Magnum Opus.

Today, June 1, is the national release date and also what brings me here; the first of many stops on my summer book tour before I go back to being Mrs. Cullen, English teacher at Olympia High School.

Mrs. Cullen.

The name still gives me the warm and fuzzies with a side helping of disbelief, even after almost five years.

Alice gives me a slight nudge breaking me from my reverie and all too suddenly, I am aware that the bookstore owner, Zafrina, has ended her introduction and everyone is waiting for me.

"I love you," Edward whispers in my ear, placing his hand over mine; the one resting on my stomach. "Both of you."

I reach up and tug playfully at the white streak in his hair that never went away. "Love you more."

"Not possible." He shakes his head and releases me.

I walk up the middle aisle, my book clutched firmly in my hand. Whispers are murmured and heads crane and look at my exposed arms; at the scars that remain visible but like the nightmares they have faded too. Settling into the plush chair, I gaze out at the faces staring back at me. Many of them are familiar from high school and my old therapy group sits to the side, all together, like we were so many years ago. It's then I realize I am not only telling my story but in a way, I am telling theirs too.

Clearing my throat and sipping the provided water, letting it sluice down my bone dry throat, I open to the page I marked to read. All stories must have a beginning and I have chosen mine.

"Monsters are real. They are not the nocturnal beasts that linger under our beds at night. They are not the scary images that lurk in the dark corners of our nightmares. They are not the serial killers that come back to life for five sequels in the movies. They are the people we walk by every day and never truly see. They can be a neighbor, a person in the check-out line of a supermarket…a baseball coach." My voice breaks just a little but I trudge forward. "But just as monsters are real, so must heroes be as well; the friend, who saw something worthy in you that you didn't know you had, the parent who would protect you until your last breath even if it meant sacrificing their own, the lover, whose love and support are pure and unconditional. And sometimes, if we are lucky, we can even find the heroes that exist within ourselves. My name is Bella Swan Cullen and this is my story."

A/N - To quote a song title from The Sundays, here's where the story ends. Thank you so much for taking this journey with me. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Although the tale is over, I may decide to write outtakes from the time in between the last chapter and the epilogue or possible futuretakes so we can see where life takes Edward and Bella over the years. Again, thank you all and have a very Happy Thanksgiving!