Leaving the Cullen house felt strangely harder than I expected. Maybe because it meant stepping out of the warm bubble of congratulations and into the real world, where Charlie Swan existed, armed with his instincts, his police badge, and an uncanny ability to read exactly what I didn't want him to.
My thoughts also drifted to the girl I considered my sister in all but name. We may have grown apart a bit since our arrival here in Forks, but not in a bad way. We had both just grown to rely on people besides each other.
I reached out for Edythe's hand and asked, "Bella and Charley? Or should we hold off until tomorrow?"
She seemed to think for a moment, "Let's get all the family on the same day. I would hate for them to feel less important than telling my family."
I knew that after our talk a few weeks back that Charlie wouldn't be too surprised about this. But I was willing to bet it would still be a shock none the less.
We pulled up the Swan driveway. Bella's truck sat crooked like always. Charlie's cruiser was parked with precise alignment that screamed cop from fifty feet away.
Before I could knock, the door opened.
Bella stood their mid-step, smiling on instinct. "Hey, you—"
She blinked.
Then blinked again.
Her mouth opened soundlessly as her eyes zeroed in on Edythe's left hand.
Before she had time to react, Charlie's voice echoed from the living room.
"Bells? Who is at the door? It better not be Edward, your visiting hours are over for the day."
I lifted my voice so it would travel to the front room, "It's me and Edythe, Uncle Charlie. Got something to talk about."
"Well get in here, I'm not paying to heat the outdoors." Came the gruff reply.
Bella seemed to shake off her stupor, "Yeah, come in," she managed. "Please come in."
I stepped into the house that I had called home for a time nearly a year back. It felt familiar… comfortable even. I made my way to the front room where Charlie was watching a basketball game. He must have muted it when we knocked.
I wasn't sure if it was his attention to detail, Bella's shocked gaze still locked on Edythe's left hand, or a reflection of light. But within seconds of entering the front room, Charlie's eyes locked onto the ring I given Edythe.
"Oh…hell," he muttered.
Bella made a strangled noise. "Dad!"
He ignored her and pointed a finger between Edythe and me, squinting with every ounce of suspicious dad energy he possessed.
"Tell me she's not pregnant."
"WHAT?" Bella shouted, nearly face planting into the coffee table.
Edythe's face locked into a look I had no name for and despite myself I felt my ears heat up.
"NO. she isn't…" I said quickly. "We, we haven't crossed that line yet…"
Charlie nodded once. "Good. Just covering the bases. Renee and I got married early because…well. Doesn't matter."
Bella groaned into both hands.
"I hate everything happening right now."
I cleared my throat. "Uncle Charlie… I asked her because I love her. Not because I had to."
Charlie looked at me for a long beat. His expression softened in that subtle Charlie Swan way, barely there but unmistakable.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I guess I can see that. Sorry for jumping to conclusions."
Bella crossed her arms and stared at Edythe's hand again.
"Okay. How long has this been…no, don't tell me. I don't want to know. Actually, I do. But I don't."
I smiled at Bella's stumbling words. "I have had it... well not planned, but ready for a while now. Today just… felt right."
Bella's expression softened a fraction despite the swirling shock. "It's a beautiful ring," she whispered, leaning in to look at it. "Really beautiful."
"Thank you," Edythe murmured.
Charlie's eyes narrowed with dad-level precision. "So. What's the timeline? You rushing this? Doing anything foolish? Running across state lines?"
"Dad," Bella hissed.
"No timeline yet," I said. "We just knew we wanted this."
Edythe broke in. "We haven't really talked about it, but I'm not interested in a long wait."
Charlie exhaled. "Hmmm. Just be sure now. Be sure later. Both matter."
We sat around for another half an hour talking about this and that before, we said our goodbyes and went home.
(Edythe POV)
Thomas fell asleep faster than I expected.
Not instantly, he never did when I was with him, but gradually, like drifting down through layers of warmth until his breathing settled into the soft, steady rhythm that meant his mind was finally quiet.
Human sleep has fascinated me since I lost the ability to do so. The vulnerability of it. The trust. The way the entire body surrendered without hesitation.
But watching him sleep was something entirely different.
His heartbeat was the anchor I hadn't known I needed. Slow. Strong. Warm in a way my body could never mimic. He lay half-turned toward me, one arm curled loosely around my waist, fingers resting at the hem of my shirt like he'd reached for me even as he let go of wakefulness.
The ring on my finger caught a faint glimmer from the flood light outside the window.
A ring.
Mine.
My chest tightened, not painfully, but with a phantom pressure I had no word for. A sensation too expansive, too full, something like awe and fear and joy braided together.
I lifted my hand slightly, turning it in the soft light.
A symbol.
A promise.
A future.
A future I never believed belonged to someone like me.
I could hear every movement in the house, every shift of the settling wood, every soft breath Thomas took, but my mind was still, unusually still. No frenzy of possibilities. No backward spiraling toward memories of what I had been.
Just this moment.
Just him.
Thomas murmured something unintelligible in his sleep and tightened his arm around me for a heartbeat before relaxing again. Instinctive. Protective. Completely unaware of how easily I could break the world around him.
And yet… he had never once feared me.
Never once hesitated to touch me, even when my skin was cold or unyielding or glowing with sunlight.
He had asked me to marry him.
He had looked at me—me—and asked for forever.
And I had said yes without a single shard of doubt.
But now, as the room dimmed further and night deepened, the practical implications began to form. Not fears...just truths. Responsibilities. Decisions.
Weddings.
The thought made my lips press together.
My family would expect celebration. Alice would crave a spectacle. Emmett would want a party large enough to frighten wildlife in three counties. Esme and Rosalie would sew dresses if given even ten seconds of uninterrupted enthusiasm.
But that wasn't what I wanted.
Not for this moment. Not for us. Well, maybe not all of it. I really wanted to see him in a tux, and I wonder if a wedding dress would feal different than a normal dress?
I looked down at Thomas again. His stark white hair had fallen across part of his forehead, and I brushed it back gently. Carefully. A feather-light touch.
He didn't stir.
A small, quiet warmth unfurled in my chest, something so painfully human it almost frightened me.
I wanted something small.
Not because I was hiding. Not because of what I was. But because the most important moments of my existence had never been loud. They'd been quiet. Tender. Rooted in trust.
Like the cliffs.
Like today.
Like right now, listening to the heartbeat that grounded me more profoundly than gravity ever could.
A large wedding would make me feel like a strange artifact on display. A spectacle of human mimicry.
But a small ceremony…
A private promise…
A moment shared only with those who understood the depth of it…
That felt right.
Necessary.
Mine.
He shifted again, face relaxing completely, unaware of the way my entire world was reorganizing itself around him.
I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his temple.
"I want something small," I whispered into the darkness. "Just you. Just us. Just the people who matter."
He didn't wake.
But his breathing deepened, as if something inside him had heard me anyway.
I lay back beside him, letting the quiet settle over us like a blanket, letting the decision crystallize in my mind.
Tomorrow, I would tell him.
Tonight…
I would stay here.
In the place where I was beginning to understand what forever could feel like.
And then, unexpectedly, Leah Clearwater's face flickered across my mind.
A quick, jarring intrusion I hadn't invited.
Her expression in the woods.
That look... sharp, longing, angry at herself.
Her thoughts, the ones I'd reached for reflexively.
Please let him be mine.
Please.
Just once, let something be mine.
The memory struck deeper than I expected.
Why had that moment stayed with me?
Why did the echo of her pain settle in my chest in a way so few things ever did?
Not jealousy.
Not possessiveness.
Not pity.
Something… else.
Maybe... Understanding? I knew what it felt like to be so alone yet surrounded by other people's happiness. Hating myself for the perceived lack of something that stopped me from having that same happiness.
"Leah," I whispered into the quiet, tasting the name with a strange mix of realization and reluctance.
It wasn't fear.
It wasn't desire.
It wasn't threat.
It was the recognition of a shape taking form in my thoughts, something I hadn't examined long enough to define.
The wolf girl wasn't my responsibility.
She wasn't my burden.
She wasn't even my friend.
And yet… neither was she nothing.
She mattered to Thomas.
And because of that…she mattered to me.
A soft, impossible tug formed low in my chest, an emotional thread I absolutely didn't want to inspect too closely yet.
What would our engagement do to her?
Would it deepen that ache she tried so hard to hide behind her rage?
Would it make her feel even more alone in a world she already believed had no place for her?
Why should that concern me so deeply?
Why did my mind keep circling back to the look on her face…
To the way her thoughts cracked open with quiet desperation…
To the way she stared at Thomas as though he were a lifeline that would save her from a nightmare she couldn't wake from herself.
I shifted slightly, curling closer into the warmth of him, as if grounding myself would keep the questions from pulling me into places I wasn't ready to go.
"Tomorrow," I whispered again. This time, not about the wedding, not about the conversation I would have with him.
Tomorrow, I will also begin untangling this new thread inside me.
The one shaped like a fierce, hurting wolf with too much fire and nowhere safe to burn it.
Tonight, though…
Tonight belonged to the man who had asked me for forever.
I rested my forehead lightly against his shoulder and listened as his heartbeat soothed the last edge of uncertainty.
Whatever this new awareness of Leah was…
Whatever it meant…
Whatever it would become…
I would face it when the sun returned.
Because for the first time in more than a century, I understood something profoundly simple:
Love, real love, did not shrink to fit boundaries.
It grew.
It made room.
Even for things I hadn't expected.
Even for people I hadn't yet let myself fully see.
And that realization…
That quiet, stubborn truth settling in my chest…
It was terrifying.
And also, strangely, beautifully right.