Chapter 5

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Chapter 5

Edward sighed and shifted uncomfortably in his chair while his wife looked intently at him. Like on the plane when Seth had stared at him, as if he was being evaluated and measured for some unknown reason, the experience was less than enjoyable. But he endured, because he owed it to his wife to do so. For every tear, for every doubt, for every icy glare and cold shoulder he'd ever given her over the course of their marriage thus far, he owed her a hundred times over.

Even then, he would never be able to make up for the time he'd lost with her.

He lowered his eyes and took a few deep breaths and tried, as best he could, to keep from falling apart at the words Isabella had just uttered.

"Edward, look at me," his wife implored him and in a moment of complete and total trust, held her hand out for him to take.

Without any hesitation at all, he reached for her hand and wrapped his around hers and gave her a very grateful smile.

"Do you want to talk about what has happened over the past few days to make you behave as you have since you've gotten home? Not that I mind, just so you know, the afternoon…um, activities were a most unexpected, but pleasant surprise," she told him and then blushed when Edward's eyes darkened at the images that immediately filled his mind.

"You're so beautiful, but especially so when you blush like that, Isabella," Edward said as he lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a soft kiss across her knuckles.

"Edward," she said with a mixture of pleasure and frustration.

Her husband was the most maddening man, even though he could sweep her of her feet with no effort at all.

"What? Can I not compliment my wife?" he asked with a self-satisfied smirk.

Reaching the end of her seemingly limitless patience, she pulled her hand back and looked at him, eyes furious.

"Edward Cullen, don't you dare try to dazzle me! If you don't want to tell me what is going on with you, fine, don't tell me. It's not like it would be any different than the past five years anyway. But, you asked me a serious question and I was going to answer you. I had hoped you would do the same for me. If you have no intention of listening or talking, then just let me know right now so we can eat, fuck, and then sleep in separate rooms, like we do every damn night anyway!" Isabella said, her temper threatening to take over and make her say something she would really regret.

Oh, there was much she wanted to say to her stunned husband right at the moment, she thought angrily as she began serving the mushroom ravioli. Insufferable ass was the chant currently racing through her mind followed closely with arrogant bastard and both were rather apt descriptions at the moment. How dare he, how fucking dare he, after all she'd been through and after all the time she'd spent trying to get him to this moment, how dare he carelessly discount the serious discussion they were having!

"'Can I not compliment my wife?' my ass," she muttered, loud enough for Edward to hear. "Ha!" she exclaimed heatedly and then turned an icy glare of her own on her husband before handing him his plate of food.

"Damn it!" she muttered in extreme annoyance when she realized she'd forgotten the freshly-grated Parmesan cheese inside.

Edward watched, totally dumbfounded as his wife stomped from the deck into the house, her arms flailing about as she continued to mutter to herself. His wife just said the word fuck. He'd never heard that word come out of her mouth…ever. And the fact that she said it in terms of their lovemaking left him shell-shocked. Finding out about his impending death, being in an almost plane crash, the introduction of an angel into his life all paled in comparison to the despair he felt right at the moment that she would believe he felt that way about her.

"What the hell just happened?" Edward said as he ran a hand through his hair and took a drink of his wine. The wine, supposedly delicious because he only bought the best of the best, was bitter and left a horrible taste in his mouth.

"Edward, my boy, you really are the dumbest bastard on the planet," Seth said when he suddenly appeared in the chair just vacated by his wife.

"Excuse me?" he asked, clearly not understanding.

The angel laughed heartily, shaking the ground and the table with the sound and then looked at Edward. "Would you like me to enlighten you on why your lovely Isabella just turned into an Italian spitfire in the blink of an eye? You are obviously completely clueless when it comes to your wife."

"If you think you know then by all means enlighten me, oh angelic one," he sneered petulantly.

While he didn't understand why Isabella was upset, it was obvious she was. He could faintly hear the sounds of her slamming things in the kitchen coupled with her obvious string of colorful Italian words. He didn't know what she was saying, but there was no doubting the tone or whom they were directed toward.

"Edward, really, my young friend. You seriously don't know what you did just then?" Seth asked incredulously, shaking his head. When Edward still looked blankly at him, Seth began. "Edward, think back to the conversation you were just having with Isabella. You asked if she hated you, which I must admit, took a lot of guts to ask and she answered you, honestly, after giving the question a good amount of thought. When she realized what her answer made you feel, without even a hint of hesitation, she gave you her hand to hold onto so that she could touch you, and more importantly, you her, while she explained her answer. And what did you do? Completely disregarded that and thought with the little head instead of the big one! I understand, Edward," the angel said indulgently, "that your emotions are all over the place right now. You've learned a lot of hard truths about yourself and your life. You are seeing your wife through new eyes and in a new light, but the way you just casually threw a discussion that she has been waiting a long time to have with you to the side, is almost unforgivable," Seth finished with a sad shake of his head. Seth understood, he really did, how hard and difficult all these new revelations had to have been for his assignment, but Edward needed to understand, fully, the ramifications his past actions had wrought.

"Fuck…Jesus, I'm an idiot," Edward groaned as he bent his head forward and banged it on the edge of the table.

"Well, I'm not Jesus, but I have to agree with you," the annoying angel person said with a guffaw.

"What the hell do I do now? I keep screwing up with her every damn time I turn around. At this rate, I'll be dead before I make any progress with Isabella at all," Edward said offhandedly, and then realized the truth of his words.

He paled instantly and his face belied the fear he felt at the words he'd just spoken. He wanted to mend his relationship with Isabella; he wanted it more than anything. Even more than the assurance that he would live a long and happy life.

Seth sighed, though it sounded more like the wind during a thunderstorm. "Edward, enough. Stop with the self-pitying bullshit and get your act together. Apologize to your wife when she comes back out here. Beg, on your knees if you have to, for another chance to talk with her and for cripe's sake, listen to the woman. You owe her this, you owe her your honesty and you owe her the respect to listen to what she has to tell you. You're not going to like it all, but you got yourself into this mess, so it's no less than what you deserve. Time to face the demons that have come home to roost, my young friend. If you're lucky, she'll just let you have it in English. I'm not sure you're ready to face the wrath of Isabella when she's in full Italian spitfire mode." Seth chuckled with a rumbling laugh.

"She's magnificent," Edward breathed out as he caught a glimpse of her as she walked to the stereo to change the music.

Gone were the soothing sounds of Coldplay from before and in its place was Evanescence. Fucking hell, angry chick music...great.

"Shit," he groaned when the music began to play. Yep, he'd really dug himself a hell of hole just now and it would be a miracle in and of itself if he managed to come through unscathed.

"Buck up, Eddie, you may enjoy a tongue lashing from your beautiful bride. Think of it as foreplay," Seth said with a smirk then he was suddenly not there anymore.

"Damn know-it-all angel," Edward muttered and then sat up straight when Isabella slid in the seat across from him again.

Isabella had calmed down from her outburst from before. It was amazing the satisfaction one could garner from the slamming of drawers and the muttering of every curse word she knew in Italian. During her tirade she had come to the realization that Edward was new at all of this and he was making an effort. He might be a bit misguided, or a lot as the case was, and he was bound to make mistakes, but he was at the very least trying.

So, she told herself before walking back out to finish their dinner, she was going to have to be patient, even more so than before. She was also going to have to try to keep better control of her temper. Isabella was a tiny bit embarrassed at her outburst from earlier, not to mention the English curse words she'd used, but at the same time she was pleased that they were finally even attempting to have this discussion. Isabella knew intuitively that things were going to change between her and Edward once they took this first step. She couldn't help but feel slightly aggravated at his careless remark but she knew tempering her temper was imperative if they were to move forward.

"Would you like cheese for your pasta?" she asked Edward in a voice that was still laced with lingering frustration and hurt, but one that was much gentler than before.

Edward was most grateful for the slight reprieve and took the olive branch she offered. "Yes, please," he answered his wife gently and gave her a sincere smile when she looked at him.

"I'm sorry for upsetting you," he began tentatively when he took his first bite of his dinner.

The exquisite tastes exploded in his mouth and he groaned appreciatively, causing Isabella to smile at him in return.

Small steps, she reminded herself as she ate slowly, watching her husband enjoy his meal. Isabella had no doubt the apology he just gave her was sincere and it was the first small step toward a new beginning for the two of them.

After they ate for a few minutes, Edward took a sip of his wine and then looked at his wife. "Isabella, if it's okay with you, I'd like to continue our conversation from earlier," he said with trepidation.

Isabella heard the anxiousness that eked out and said, "Edward, I'd really like to continue as well, but if you aren't ready, I'd understand." It was a gracious offer, but there was no doubt she'd like to get some answers.

Edward grinned sheepishly and then rolled his eyes at his wife. "I do believe you've waited more than long enough, don't you?"

Isabella couldn't help but nod her head in agreement and they both sat back in their chairs after he refilled their glasses.

"Now, if I'm not mistaken, wife of mine, I believe you were going to inform me, gently I hope, why you dislike me so and I in turn will tell you about my trip," Edward said endearingly.

Isabella hung her head and closed her eyes. Yes, she wanted to have this talk with him, had wanted it for a long time now, but telling the man you loved more than life itself you didn't particularly like the person he was, wasn't really something she was looking forward to.

"Hey," he told her as he lifted her chin with his fingers. "Isabella, it's okay. I've been a damn idiot for a long time now, but I'm not stupid. I'll admit that hearing you don't like me very much isn't my favorite thing I've ever heard come from your beautiful lips, but I deserve whatever you have to say to me."

"Oh, Edward," Isabella said softly as she looked at her husband. His face was relaxed and his eyes sparkled and he looked completely ready for whatever she had to say to him.

"Love, really," Edward motioned with his wineglass, "go ahead. Just try to be gentle, or as gentle as your Italian temper will allow you to be," he said disarmingly.

"I'm sorry about earlier, too, Edward," she began, looking for a starting point.

He chuckled at her and then flashed a drop dead sexy grin. "Well, I'm sure we would both agree I deserved that wholeheartedly. I also must say, wife of mine, it was incredibly sexy to see you get so worked up. Next time, however, I think I'd much rather see about getting you worked up in bed."

Isabella rolled her eyes at his blatant flirting, but she couldn't deny the tingles she felt between her legs at the sexual innuendo.

"Isabella, you're stalling," Edward prodded and she took a deep breath and dug in.

"Edward, I'm sorry if what I said before hurt you, but you asked and I felt it was only fair to be honest with you," Isabella said quietly. She looked at her husband and said just as softly, "You haven't been the easiest of people to live with and you've tried, and done a damn good job, too, of keeping your distance from me. You spend your time hiding away at the office downtown or here at home in the study. If we are in the same room for any length of time, you get agitated and then run away. Hell, Edward, we haven't shared the same bed for over a year," Isabella said and took a drink of her wine, carefully watching her husband. Noting that though he looked distressed at her words, he was still sitting and waiting patiently, so she decided to go on. After all, this might be her only chance to say what was on her mind and she was not about to let the opportunity pass her by.

"I've seen glimpses of the person I believe you to be, Edward. During our engagement and honeymoon and at times since we returned from Italy, your walls have fallen and I see the man I fell in love with, the man I pledged myself to, and the man I hope you allow yourself to become. I know there are things that haunt you from your past, Edward, things I'm sure you've never shared with anyone. Whatever those things are weigh heavily on you and make you hesitant to trust people and even more hesitant to allow yourself to get close to them. It has also made you cold and distant and more often than not, unnecessarily cruel as well," Isabella finished.

"All of that and yet you don't despise me?" Edward asked sadly. "All of that and you still allow me to make love to you, to take you as I did this afternoon?"

"When we are making love, Edward, you are a different man. You become tender and gentle. You hold me and kiss me and make me feel loved and worshiped. Sometimes that feeling even lasts as much as a day or two afterward. You allow me to love you the way I want to; allow me to lay in bed with you. There are times you even kiss me before you leave for work or grace me with a special smile. Those are the moments that make even the most difficult of days worth it, Edward," she said.

Her words cut him to the core, completely ripped his heart out and obliterated it into unrecognizable pieces. She didn't yell, she didn't cry or get hysterical. Instead she spoke in a voice so sweet and tender that Edward wasn't sure he would ever be worthy of her, even if he had a multitude of lifetimes to try to be. That she only felt loved and worshiped when they made love devastated Edward. The fact that she took pleasure in something as small as a kiss goodbye or a smile made him feel like the world's biggest piece of shit.

"My God, what you must think of me," Edward choked out, the words barely able to leave his mouth. "Why haven't you ever said anything?" he asked. There is no way anyone should be subjected to the emotionless environment Isabella found herself in day in and day out, yet she was still here, still hopeful and still willing to give him a chance.

"I never said anything, Edward, because you never asked. If I would have approached you with any of this, without you asking, you would have run a hundred miles in the other direction. I imagine if I would have told you this before you were ready, as it appears you are, to listen, hell, it could have been weeks, months, before I saw you again." Isabella chuckled at that, though it was a mirthless one.

Edward at least had the ability to acknowledge the truth of her words. If he wouldn't have been forced to re-examine his life there is no way in hell he ever would have been able to handle the admissions Isabella was offering him right now.

Utterly pathetic…he muttered angrily to himself. Five fucking years he'd wasted, hiding from the glorious woman across from him. She loved him, faults and all and holy hell there were plenty of those. Even though she'd been emotionally neglected for years, she'd never stopped loving him and just as importantly, she'd never stopped believing in him, either.

That thought took his breath away and gave him hope. Hope that he could fix their marriage but also hope that she would help him fix all the other areas of his life as well.

"You really don't despise me?" Edward asked again, praying that she still gave the same answer.

Isabella looked at him warmly and reached across the table to take his hand in hers once more. "No, Edward, I don't. I love you and adore you, probably more today than I did the first time I told you that, more than the day I became yours in every way possible, and more than every day since. Loving you has never been the problem. I pray for you every day, pray that you see the man I see. I pray that one day you'll let me in and trust me with your secrets. I hope that you'll share your pain with me because it's obviously too great for you to carry alone. I hope that you allow yourself to be happy, because I think you deserve it, even if you don't believe it. I hope and I pray that one day you'll love me the way I love you," she finished the last part barely louder than a whisper.

The words might as well have been yelled through a bullhorn they reverberated so loudly inside Edward's brain.

"Isabella, I…" he began but was cut off by his wife who stood and then leaned across the table and placed her soft fingers over his lips.

"Edward, don't. Don't say the words because you think you owe them to me. Don't say them in response to what I've told you. You're not ready to say them yet, I know that. I gave my heart to you the moment I laid my eyes on you and it belongs only to you. Yours is still buried deep beneath iron fortified walls. Until you are ready to give me your heart, I don't want the words. They go hand and hand. I'm a patient woman, Edward Cullen. When you're ready, I'll be here," she whispered and leaned her head down and her lips took the place of her fingers and she kissed him softly.

"Now before it's your turn on the hot seat, how about some mint chocolate chip ice cream for dessert? I know it's your favorite and I bought some especially for you, my handsome husband," she said with a wink and picked up the pasta and their dishes and carried them inside.

"That went surprisingly well, I must admit," Seth said, appearing the instant Isabella entered the house. He was dressed in khaki dress pants and a navy blue button-down and had a different pair of Italian leather shoes on his feet, loafers this time.

"Easy for you to say," Edward grumped with a huff and then ran his hands through his hair. "Damn, I feel like I've just been punched in the stomach by Emmett."

"I have to say, Edward Anthony, you handled that much better than I thought you would," the angel said, somewhat grudgingly Edward noticed.

"You knew she was going to say all that?" he demanded.

Seth shrugged his shoulders and waved his hand dismissively. "Edward, my boy, you do understand that I have been privy to the lovely Isabella's pleas, at least as they pertain to you, do you not? Of course I knew she was going to say all that. In fact, there is more, but that is for her to tell you, not I. Your job," the annoyingly bossy angel said in a stern voice, "is to allow her this time to express her feelings. Isabella has many years' worth of frustration and heartache built up, mostly, if not all, due to you and your actions. The least you can do is allow her to speak her mind."

"Damn," Edward muttered under his breath.

Not that he didn't know the damn angel was right, but Edward was rather hoping for a repeat of this afternoon's activities. The kiss she'd given him just moments ago stoked an already smoldering fire, especially when he noticed she didn't have a bra on, which led him to believe her panties were also absent. He knew the timing was all wrong, but he was a man for fuck's sake and he was being tempted by the world's most alluring woman, at least in his mind anyway.

"She's going to think I'm stark raving mad if I tell her what happened to me on that plane," Edward moaned pitifully.

"I'm not sure I'd be that specific with her, Eddie." Seth laughed. "Isabella is definitely a believer in our kind, but I'm not one hundred percent positive that she won't call the men with the white coats to come drag your ass off to a padded cell if you tell her everything. Your track record in dealing with all things heavenly is not the best by any stretch of the imagination."

"You got that right," Edward said, feeling suddenly very guilty for his reticent attitude toward going to Mass.

The music changed again and Edward smiled at the sounds of Dave Matthews floating from the speakers. At least her mood had changed, he thought to himself and when he went to say something to Seth, the angel had already taken his leave.

Isabella grinned adorably at Edward as she handed him the extra big bowl of his favorite ice cream and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "For you, husband of mine, I think you're going to need it," she said sassily as she sat in the chair across from him. She pulled her leg up and placed it on the seat of the chair and began eating her own dessert.

Edward watched his wife enjoy her ice cream, totally mesmerized by the way her tiny pink tongue would dart in and out of her mouth, how she would lick her lips, and how the cold made her nipples harden. Damn he wanted her again, maddeningly so. But the words of the irritatingly always correct angel kept him from acting on his desire, no matter how desperate he was to touch, feel, taste, and kiss her again. Isabella deserved to be adored and cherished and not just while they were having sex. It was a wrong he vowed to himself to make right.

After he tore his gaze away from Isabella, Edward dug into his own dish of ice cream and he marveled, yet again, at her ability to know his likes and dislikes so well, to know him so well even though he'd unknowingly kept her at a distance. He shook his head and grinned at his adorable wife as she hummed to the music playing and shook her head, causing her hair to sway back and forth.

Isabella looked up and caught her husband staring at her unabashedly, his green eyes glinting mischievously in the candlelight. "Thank you for the extra helping of ice cream," Edward said, giving himself and internal fist bump for making that delicious blush appear on her face again.

"A treat for you, my husband, for spending the evening with me," she said with a smirk of her own.

"Do you think it's possible we'll be friends as well as lovers someday, Isabella?" Edward asked, surprising even himself with the question.

Isabella gasped and though she wanted to ask what prompted him to ask such an extraordinary question, she refrained and answered simply but with complete honesty. "I would like that very much, Edward."

He wanted to tell her so much, beginning with the fact that with the exception of Jasper Whitlock, he had never had a true friend. He wanted to tell her how grateful he was that she was willing to sit and eat ice cream with him in the moonlight as if it were an everyday occurrence instead of something that happened only rarely. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, that he loved her the very first time he set eyes on her but had been too afraid to let himself get close to her. Instead, he said, "I would like that very much, too."

He knew things were different now. He knew there was no going back to the way things were when he woke up this morning. He knew he wanted to be able to enjoy nights like this every night.

"Well, Edward," Isabella said with a knowing smile. "In the spirit of our newfound friendship, why don't you tell me what the hell is going on with you? And don't you dare tell me nothing, Edward Anthony Cullen, we may be new at this whole friendship thing, but I know you a whole lot better than you think I do."

He put his bowl down on the table, after finishing every bit of the delicious ice cream and took a deep breath before he looked at his wife. "I'm not sure what to tell you, Isabella. I realized I've been a miserable son of a bitch for most of my life and have behaved abominably toward just about everyone. Especially to you," he said, truly ashamed of his past actions toward her.

He looked at her and was shocked when he saw her staring back at him with her eyebrows raised. "Come on now, Edward, there has to be more to it than that," she said encouragingly as she took another sip of her wine.

"It was a really rough and scary flight home, Isabella," he said softly, but with much feeling.

Isabella immediately got a strange feeling and it made her shiver. She remembered her feelings of unease earlier in the day when she felt anxious about his flight coupled with the severe storms she knew he'd flown through. She was intuitive enough to realize there was much her husband was not saying, but it was a good enough start for now.

They'd made tremendous progress during the evening and she could feel the shift in their relationship as if it were a tangible thing. There was still a long way to go but the road ahead of her didn't seem as daunting as it once did. Things were still precarious and she had no doubt that Edward would try to hide from her again at some point. He had a lot of years of practice doing just that and scary plane flight or not, she knew the walls would return. She only hoped that since she'd breached them once, the second time would be easier.

By silent agreement, Edward and Isabella rose and gathered the remaining things from the table and made their way into the kitchen.

Edward watched Isabella efficiently wrap the leftovers and place them in the refrigerator and then put their ice cream bowls and wine glasses into the dishwasher. She wiped down the counters and made sure everything was back in its place. It quite amazed him the sense of completeness he got from watching his wife perform such a trivial thing like loading a dishwasher.

For the first time since the appearance of the angelic presence on what should have been a routine airplane ride, Edward truly saw what was happening to him as the gift Seth said it was. To be able to have this time, however long it turned out to be, to love his wife, to worship her, to become worthy of her was more than he truly should be allowed. If Edward Anthony Cullen was one thing, it was that he was a shrewd businessman, who had learned long ago to never let a golden opportunity pass you by. While he might never understand why he was granted the chance to make amends to his family, friends, and colleagues or why he was given the privilege to become the husband his beautiful wife deserved, he was going to take it and run with it.

So it was with that thought, Edward reached for his wife, holding her against him as he had wanted to do since the moment she left his arms hours ago and he asked, "Isabella, would stay with me tonight?"

~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~

Chapter 4

~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~

Chapter 4

Edward stared at his wife, dumfounded by the way she spoke, but even more than that, the way she looked.

In the muted light of the evening, with the flicker of candlelight illuminating her body and shimmering off her hair, she was mesmerizing and Edward reacted as any man would when faced with such a sight.

He was hard again, painfully so. He was torn between throwing her over his shoulder and racing up the stairs to his bed where he could take her again or keeping her in the aggravated state she was in right this moment so he could look at her longer.

To him, both options were equally advantageous so there was no clear cut correct answer.

Isabella must have seen his indecision, and knowing her husband much better than he ever realized, she pointed a delicate finger at him, again, and said, "You stay right there, Edward. You may have swept me off my feet and we may have just had the most amazing and intense sex we've had in longer than I can remember, but I know that look. You are not going to use your gorgeous eyes or that sexy as hell smirk to get your way until we talk. Now Edward, tell me exactly what happened to you, please?"

The Italian siren stared at her husband and had to take a few deep breaths to calm her excited body. Edward was still distractedly naked and as soon as she mentioned their previous lovemaking, her body reacted in ways she never dreamed. Her heart rate picked up, her skin tingled, her nipples got hard, and that was nothing compared to the ache and wetness she felt between her legs. The cooler night air was not helping that situation at all.

Edward watched his wife in a sort of stupefied state. The comment she'd made about knowing his 'look' threw him for quite the loop. How did she know him so well when he worked so hard to keep his distance from her? he wondered. He couldn't argue with her though, he did want her again and had every intention of following through on his desire until she called that to a screeching halt.

Isabella shivered when an unexpected breeze blew across the yard. He suddenly realized he was still naked because he had been too busy ogling his wife, as any man in his right mind would when faced with such a sight, to bother to get dressed. He suddenly felt it a bit strange to have this discussion without his clothes on. The same went for his luscious wife.

That was way too much temptation for any man to have to fight.

"Isabella," Edward began hesitantly as his wife coolly looked at him. "I know you've prepared a delicious meal for tonight and I would hate to have all your hard work go to waste," he said truthfully.

"Edward, I really want to talk about this," she stated as she walked toward her husband. Edward reached down and pulled on his boxer briefs when he stood up. He didn't see his wife swallow a few times and take a few much needed breaths to calm her rapidly escalating desire for her husband. The thought of him covering his magnificent body with clothing of any kind felt positively sinful to her, but she did realize that if he didn't absolutely no talking would be done.

As much as he was not looking forward to having this discussion, Edward knew the sooner he faced the music the better and hopefully he could convince Isabella for round number two. A man could only hope.

"Isabella, I know. I promise I'll tell you what you want to know," he said, sounding anything but excited at the prospect.

Edward had no idea how he was going to navigate this particular conversation and while not an overly devout man, he hoped for some angelic guidance at the very least. What the hell good was an angel if he couldn't help you figure out what to say to your wife?

Isabella stood and stared at him, suddenly a bit afraid of what the discussion would bring to light. His more than unusual behavior sincerely caused her great amounts of worry and trepidation. If there was something seriously wrong with him, she didn't know how she would handle it. The brief glimpse she'd just gotten of the true Edward Anthony Cullen, the one she'd known was there all along, made her fall in love with her husband even more than she already was. She said a very quick prayer for the strength to listen and to help if he needed her.

Needing nothing more than to touch him, she held her hand out to him so they could make their way into the house.

Edward hurried to his wife's side needing to touch her just as greatly and when her tiny hand was enveloped in his large one Isabella turned and looked at her husband. "Thank you for this afternoon, Edward. I can't remember the last time I've been so happy." After speaking her heartfelt words, she stood on her tiptoes and brushed her satiny soft lips across his stubbled cheek then sighed softly when she had to remove them.

They entered the kitchen where she hurried to the oven to check the food. Thankfully the dish she had made especially for Edward hadn't been overcooked and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Oh, she was still anxious as all get out over the impending conversation she and Edward were about to have, but she couldn't help but feel quite satisfied that the meal she had so lovingly and carefully prepared was cooked to perfection.

Edward, for his part, looked even more anxious than his wife, which came as no surprise. After all, it as he who was on the proverbial chopping block and for good reason.

"Sweetheart? Why don't you go and take a shower and change your clothes while the pasta cools? I'm sure you had a long day followed by a long flight home," Isabella spoke to her husband.

While she was a bit shocked at how easily the term of endearment slipped out of her lips, Edward was positively speechless. Yes, she'd called him sweetheart outside, but he attributed that to the heat of the moment. Hearing it now, effortlessly and without a second thought, touched him in a way that completely took him by surprise.

The warm, blissful feeling he'd felt on the plane washed over him and he basked in it for a brief time. The thought that it was his own damn fault that he hadn't experienced this feeling of contentment and joy much over the last five years did not go unnoticed. But as much as he wished things had been different, they weren't, and now he needed to use whatever time he had left treating his wife like the treasure she was.

"You don't need my help with anything?" he asked as he stood and watched her move purposely around the kitchen gathering the things she needed for their meal.

Isabella shut the utensil drawer with a bump of her sexy and partially naked hip and Edward's breath caught in his throat for the umpteenth time since he'd arrived home. His wife was most definitely the most bewitching creature he'd ever encountered. He felt as if he was under a spell and it wasn't until Isabella dropped the silverware on the island with a clank that he was shaken from his stupor.

She looked at her husband, partly annoyed at him just standing there like a statue and partly terrified by his completely unfathomable behavior. "Edward, are you sure you're all right?" she asked as she blew the wisps of hair that had fallen in her face with a frustrated breath.

"Yes, love. I'm fine," Edward said softly as he moved, finally, forward and brushed the hair out of her face. "I won't be long," he finished as he kissed her forehead and then reluctantly pulled away and turned and walked toward the stairs where he'd left his bag.

Isabella watched him walk away, the lean and toned muscles of his back and legs flexing enticingly as he moved. If anything, during the five years they'd been married he got even better-looking and certainly sexier. Men like Edward always got better-looking with age; it was a fact of life women the world over bemoaned, but Isabella really couldn't complain too much. After all, she got to look at him every day.

She shook her head when he disappeared up the stairs and she frowned when she heard him move above her in his room. The night she moved her things from their marital bedroom into her own room was a night she wouldn't ever forget. She was a private person, preferring to rely on her own instincts and feelings when it came to making decisions. Her complete dedication to her studies and her sport, coupled with her determination to remain a virgin until she got married, left her with few close friends.

Isabella was well-liked by all who met her and the other tutors at the after school program adored her. Her parents' friends always marveled at how sweet and kind she was and when she accompanied her Nonna to Sunday Mass she was hugged and kissed more than she felt comfortable with. She could have talked to her mother or grandmother about the state of her marriage, but she didn't. She could have talked Esme or Rosalie also, but again she chose not to.

While the decision to leave Edward's bed was supremely painful, she also knew, deep down in her soul, that she needed to protect him as well. She was well aware of his difficult manner, but she also knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was a reason for his behavior. She'd seen enough glimpses of the true Edward Cullen during their dating and engagement, not to mention their honeymoon and off and on during their marriage to know that beneath the hard shell there was a kind, tender, and loving man.

"She's something else isn't she?" Seth smirked at Edward as he exited the bathroom after taking what had to be the world's shortest shower.

Edward glared icily at the annoying angel person who was still dressed in his Chicago Cubs regalia and stomped toward his dresser to pull out his own pair of cargo shorts and a t-shirt. Studiously ignoring the deep chuckle that rumbled from the unwelcome presence in the chair by the window, he marched back into the bathroom to get dressed.

"Damn nosy, know-it-all, pain in the ass seraph," Edward muttered under his breath as he yanked on a clean pair of boxer briefs and then his khaki shorts and black t-shirt.

He wrenched the door open and stared at the being across the room. "Edward Anthony, you do realize I possess extraordinary hearing, don't you? While I readily admit to knowing it all, I'm neither nosy nor a pain in the ass, as you so eloquently put it," Seth said, quite amused at his young charge.

"Whatever," Edward said in a voice that sounded much like a surly teenager being lectured by a parent.

"You want to tell me what's bothering you? It is, after all, my job to help you navigate these types of situations," the angel stated, tempering his amusement for the time being.

Edward sighed deeply, trying to articulate exactly what he was feeling. He was raw, the reality of the day hitting him like a tsunami. He walked toward the large windows that faced the backyard and realized with a start the he had only to take a moment, just one fucking moment at anytime, to look out of these windows and he would have been granted an insight into who his wife really was.

"I'm such a fucking idiot," Edward said sadly and rested his forehead against the cool glass. He tried to keep the melancholy he was feeling from spilling out of him, but he was having a hell of a time doing it. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture he'd done thousands of times before whenever he was upset.

Seth snorted, the sound filling the large room and Edward turned and narrowed his eyes at the angel. "What, you want me to disagree with you?" Seth asked smugly. "Edward, you are not a stupid man. Of course you're an idiot. You've lived the last twenty odd years with a chip on your shoulder the size of the moon, not to mention you've been burying your head in the sand like the world's most stubborn ostrich. Besides, I can't lie to you, so why even try?"

"It's not fair," he said pitifully and Seth couldn't help but laugh, shaking the glass beneath Edward's head.

"You want some cheese with that whine?" the angel retorted sharply.

Edward lifted his head quickly and sucked in a sharp breath. "What the hell? How can you say that? I found out today that I'm going to die! I found out that I've pretty much wasted the last five years of my life! I found out that the greatest gift I've ever been given lives in the same house as me but doesn't share my bed! I found out that my life is nothing close to what I want it to be," he finished and fell to his knees and held his head in his hands.

Immediately he was engulfed in a warm and comforting embrace that held him until his sobs stopped and he was able to catch his breath.

"Yes, Edward Anthony, what you just said is all true, but you have to look at the other side as well. You've also been given the time to right the mistakes you've made, ask for forgiveness from those you've wronged, and do what you can in the time you have left to make your life what you want," Seth said soothingly. "It's a gift, Edward, and you must treat it as such."

Seth waved his hand over Edward's head and instantly he was calmed and felt more relaxed, a fact of which Edward was most grateful for.

"Do you think that will help me with my wife?" Edward remarked seriously, even though the angel let go a booming laugh.

"I'm not sure even my angelic powers can help you with the lovely Isabella, Edward. Now shoo, I have places I need to be and I want to see this up close and personal," the angel stated excitedly, with a wicked gleam in his eye to boot. "You might as well face the music. Chances are it won't even be as bad as you think."

Edward got up off the floor and smoothed down his shirt before he started walking toward his bedroom door. He spun around so quickly, he caught the normally observant angel off-guard. "Wait a damn minute!" Edward exclaimed heatedly. "What do you mean you have places to be? What if I need your help?"

The angel shook his head at his young friend. "Edward, my boy, all you ever have to do is call for me, and I will immediately appear. However, you are not my only responsibility at the moment," Seth told him indulgently.

As Edward stood with his hand on the doorknob he asked a question he'd always wanted to know the answer to. For as long as he could remember, he'd wanted to know. Well, to be more specific, since he was fourteen-years-old and had witnessed things he never spoke about, ever, he needed to know. "Where do you go when you leave me?" he asked quietly.

Seth sighed; the breath he expelled was cool and floated through the confines of Edward's room. "Ah, my young friend, that is a discussion we must save for another day. You already have much to discuss with your beautiful bride; you don't want to have to explain ruining her dinner as well do you?"

The angel was stalling, he was well aware of that fact, but he also knew that Edward was procrastinating having the discussion he was about to have with his very perceptive and brilliant wife.

"You'll be close by if I need you?" Edward asked, his voice shaking as he stepped out the door.

"I'm always here if you need me, Edward, never doubt that. Now, get your ass down there and face your wife," the angel said with a wink then disappeared with a soft laugh as Edward took a deep breath and began to descend the stairs.

"Damn angel," he muttered again.

While Edward showered and changed clothes, Isabella finished getting dinner ready and hastily cleaned herself up as well in the downstairs bathroom.

She had retrieved her pants and tank top from the deck, blushing profusely as she stepped outside in nothing but Edward's ruined dress shirt. As soon as she tiptoed back into the house she shook her head as she tried to clear her mind of what had just happened with her husband and tried instead to focus on the discussion they were about to have.

The guest bathroom she slipped into was well-stocked, as any good hostess would provide. She was able to clean up quickly; slipping both her pants and shirt on, leaving the lacy undergarments she'd chosen for her husband in the laundry room. The action left her feeling rather sexy and naughty which caused the normally demure woman to chuckle at herself.

Taking a deep breath as she looked in the mirror, Isabella noticed the flush to her cheeks and the way her eyes danced with hope and excitement. The conversation that was forthcoming not withstanding, the afternoon had turned out better than she could have ever dreamed. Edward had acted and spoke to her like the man she knew he was. He'd let her have a glimpse of him, walls down and open, and he was breathtaking.

She straightened her shoulders and vowed to do whatever was necessary to make sure THAT Edward was present more often. She had no doubt it would be a struggle to keep those walls from going back up, but as Edward would come to find out, she was most diligent when she chose to be.

"Love?" Edward called for his wife as he descended the last step. His heart was beating quickly and his palms began to sweat as he thought about how important the conversation he was about to have was. Not because of any angelic prophecy, but because Isabella deserved for him to be honest.

After five years, it was way past time for some honesty. Edward always chose to hide; it was easier that way. Today had taught him that not only did that particular mechanism harm himself but Isabella just as much. Perhaps even more so.

Isabella walked in from the deck, a soft breeze following in her wake and she gave Edward a brilliant smile. "I thought we could eat outside, is that all right with you? It's a lovely night out," she said as she walked toward the island to grab the salad and the basket of bread she'd just cut and wrapped in a linen napkin.

Edward was - as was becoming a quick habit - totally enamored with his wife as he watched her move around the kitchen. Finally coming out his stupor when he heard the oven door close, he moved to help her.

"Let me carry that to the table," he said quietly as he picked up the dish of pasta. He flashed his wife a quick, but sincere smile and walked to the table outside.

The plate of antipasto was already on the table as well as a bottle of wine and wine glasses and Edward couldn't help but feel overwhelmed, yet again, at the lengths his wife continued to go to reach him.

Isabella followed behind him and set the salad and bread to the side of their place setting, reaching out to touch him on the arm, causing a warmth to spread through his body from the caress of her fingers. "Are you ready to eat, Edward?" she asked softly as she tilted her head to regard him.

"Everything looks delicious, Isabella," he said. He held her chair out for her and then sat in his own directly across from her.

The candles she had lit cast a warm glow over the table. Isabella began to load up Edward's plate with food, skipping the artichokes in favor of his favorite salami and prosciutto. The woman across from him was definitely much more perceptive and observant than he ever gave her credit for. It was amazing how something as simple as knowing he disliked artichokes made him aware of just how much she loved him.

He watched as she spooned the bruschetta onto the bread and then passed him his plate.

"Will you pour the wine, sweetheart?" she asked as she handed him her wineglass, the term of endearment used again in such an effortless manner.

"Of course." He nodded and filled both glasses. His might have been a good deal fuller than hers for he was positive he would need it to calm his quickly spiraling nerves.

Isabella filled her own plate and then smiled at him before she began to eat, a comfortable silence settling around them. Edward could not remember the last time food had tasted so good. Everything was mouthwateringly delicious; the meats and cheeses had been seasoned to perfection. The salad and homemade dressing had the perfect balance of tangy and sweetness, the bread was soft and airy on the inside and crusty on the outside. All of it was perfect and they hadn't even made it to the main course yet.

He stared at his wife across the table as she picked up her wineglass. Her soft, pink lips framed the lip of the glass and when she was done, her tongue darted out to swipe a stray drop of wine and Edward had to shift in his chair and bite the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning out in excitement. She was so beautiful and had no idea what she was doing to him.

The urge to tell her he loved her swamped him suddenly, and though he wanted nothing more than to drop to his knees in front of her and beg her forgiveness and then pledge his undying love to her, he knew he owed her much more than words for his past behavior.

"Do you hate me?" he asked quietly, the question springing forth before he could stop it.

Quite honestly, he was terrified of the answer. Oh, Isabella had every right to hate him for the way he'd treated her for the last five years, even Edward was self-aware enough to realize that. The brief and intermittent moments he spent with her as a husband should couldn't have been enough for someone as loving and giving as his wife was. He was so concerned about himself and being scared of letting her in that he'd unknowingly hurt her and he wasn't sure how to deal with that. Though the angel had informed him that her love for him had only grown over time, he had a hard time believing that was the truth no matter the being's assurances that their kind could not lie. Isabella was an amazingly selfless person, he knew that, but even still patience could only last so long.

Isabella gasped at the soft, but heart-wrenching question just uttered by her husband. She had much she wanted to say to him, but decided since this is where he began she would answer him honestly, though he might not like the answer.

She folded her napkin beside her plate and stared at him for a moment while she gathered her thoughts. Edward Cullen was an incredible-looking man, strong, confident…though most would say too confident, and powerful. But as he sat across from her, she couldn't help but think how vulnerable and exposed he looked just now.

"I don't hate you, Edward. I could never hate you," she said gently. Edward let out a breath he didn't seem to realize he was holding and just as he was about to say something else, she spoke again. "However, I dislike you most of the time," she said and watched her husband pale in the flickering candlelight.

Edward felt like he'd been punched in the stomach and it twisted painfully at her calm, quiet, but piercing words. Even though he had just before admitted her right to her feelings it did not, in any way, lessen the impact her vocalizing them inflicted upon him. Somehow the realization that while she may love him, she didn't necessarily like him very much, hurt him more deeply than if she would have simply said that yes, she hated him.

Isabella cringed internally as she watched her husband's face fall at her admission, but he asked and she knew that if the two of them had any hope at all of moving forward, Edward would have to face some difficult truths. If she didn't love him so much and so irrevocably, she would have given up on him long ago. Five years was a hell of a long time to live with someone who barely registered your existence unless it suited him, but as Edward would soon discover about his wife, Isabella was as tenacious as the day was long.

She believed, without the benefit of angelic assurance, that her husband loved her as much as she loved him. She believed with all her heart that at some point in time something would happen and Edward would realize all the time he'd wasted keeping himself at an arm's distance from her. While she never, in her wildest imaginations, envisioned it would take five years, it seemed that some sort of reckoning was upon them. She was determined to find out what happened to the man that left Chicago a few short days ago and turned him into the man that sat before her now.

~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~

Chapter 3

~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~

Chapter 3

"Edward, what…are you all right?" Isabella asked her husband as she shook her head and wondered what was going on.

Her question was quelled quickly as Edward's mouth covered hers and she was given a kiss like one she hadn't gotten in some time. It was full of love and need and infinite tenderness and it immediately brought tears to her lovely brown eyes. His lips met her soft ones and he expertly teased and prodded until she opened her mouth to allow him entrance. Edward tried to not let the feelings that were swarming around him completely overwhelm him, but it was hard now that he was finally here with her.

In the back of his mind he knew that he was acting completely out of character. He knew there would be questions he didn't want to answer. He knew that right there, right then, was the beginning of a painful process that he would have to undertake; that he would have to admit to his past actions and that there was every possibility that Isabella would never forgive him, no matter how good and forgiving a person she was.

For right now though, none of that mattered. What did matter was the woman in his arms and the one he needed more than ever before.

"Edward," Isabella breathed out in delighted surprise when it became necessary for him to release her mouth to allow them both a much needed breath.

"Isabella," Edward responded back to her as his large hand cupped her now pink cheek. He grinned in satisfaction as he watched his gorgeous wife melt against his hand and sigh deeply. He sat down next to her on the oversized chaise and drank in the sight of her.

"You are so beautiful," Edward said on a sigh as he ran his long fingers through her silky hair. As he watched the strands slide between his fingers, he wondered how he managed to go days or weeks without feeling the exquisite softness. Immediately following, he wondered how he was ever going to manage to go hours or hell even minutes without touching it.

Isabella gasped at both the gesture and the words. They were both beautiful and for any other woman, probably things that were heard with, at the very least, some frequency, but as she quickly went through her mind she couldn't remember the last time he'd been so complimentary.

In the five years they had been married it wasn't often that Edward showed such outward affection for his wife and Isabella was immediately alarmed, thinking that something had to have precipitated his certainly uncharacteristic mood.

Maybe he'd gotten bad news while he was away? Maybe he was sick and delirious with fever? Maybe he'd taken some sort of mind-altering drug?

Isabella shook her head as the ridiculous thoughts raced through her mind but she knew something had changed in her husband. She could feel it in the gentleness of his touch and could see it in the emerald green eyes that seemed to glow in the fading sunlight.

"Are you finished?" Edward questioned as he pointed to the manuscript that lay across her toned stomach.

Isabella nodded at him and he chuckled softly quite amused at her inability to speak. He knew, of course, that he had taken her completely by surprise. He could kick himself in the ass for allowing the mesmerizing woman in front of him to be so shocked by a mere compliment and sweet gesture.

Damn, he had a lot of making up to do, Edward thought to himself.

Edward gently lifted the stack of papers from her and set them down carefully on the deck so as to not lose her place in her work. He stared down at her, for a moment completely speechless, as Isabella looked at him with eyes full of wonder and hope.

There was so fucking much he wanted, he needed to say to her but he couldn't even form a coherent thought in his mind. His heart was beating so loudly he was positive it was going to explode out of his chest. His hands shook and his stomach was tied in knots. His wife, his life's partner, laid before him, had been waiting for him to return. Even after the horrid way he had treated her at times since they'd been married, she was willing to let him make love to her.

He was blown away by the strength of her commitment to him and to their marriage. So much so he was almost overcome by his shame in allowing himself to be so thoughtless and neglectful to her.

Almost.

His need for her, his need to claim her again as a husband claims a wife quickly pushed all those thoughts away. Oh, he had no doubt they would return, but for now the ache for his wife outweighed anything else.

"I'm going to make love to you now, my beautiful Isabella," Edward said softly as he moved his body so that he had one knee on the chaise beside her as he bent down to capture her velvety lips in a scorching kiss.

Isabella's mind was a chaotic mess as she tried to reconcile the man kissing her with wild abandon to the man who left the house just a few short days ago. The one that left was hardened, closed off from everyone, and difficult. The one that was currently turning her body into a pile of mush and made wetness pool between her thighs was infinitely gentle, passionate, and needy.

Edward moved his lips from his wife's and placed them along the delicate expanse of her neck. His tongue swirled and licked and he couldn't remember tasting anything so divine in all his life. Even the angelic scotch he'd consumed paled in comparison to the taste of Isabella.

What the hell had been the matter with him, Edward chastised his dumb ass…again. He was positive that if he berated himself from sunup to sundown from today until when his time was up, he wouldn't even come close to the amount of derision he deserved.

With quick, sure movements Edward slid his hands across the toned muscles of Isabella's stomach and then inched them higher until they covered her breasts. He could feel her heart beating in a cadence that matched his own, and while it made him achingly sad, it also filled him with joy.

The fact that she still allowed him to touch her, to make love to her after the pain and heartbreak she had to have felt at his thoughtlessness, astounded him. Edward vowed to himself, without the need of a reminder from the annoying angel person, that he would spend whatever time he had left on this Earth, be it days, weeks, or months, loving and adoring his wife.

His Isabella.

The words spoken reverently, though only in his mind, swept through every part of his body and filled him with such a sense of completeness he wasn't sure he was strong enough to keep the intense feelings from bursting forth. That connection, that unknown, unexplainable feeling he got whenever he was near her was present, and this time it felt like a living, breathing force. He didn't understand it, but had come to accept it, but he knew he'd never felt its presence as he did now. He had never allowed himself to feel it before now.

Isabella watched her husband through lust-filled eyes and was stunned at the sight before her. Edward was an inhumanly beautiful man but looking at him now was almost painful. Without the mask that he carefully and fastidiously wore everyday to protect himself from whatever horrors he kept locked inside, he took her breath away. His eyes weren't guarded; instead they blazed with so much emotion she felt like she was being hypnotized. The jaw that was usually held firm was relaxed and when she reached up and ran her fingers along the length of it, they left a trail of molten fire in their wake.

Edward sighed in contentment at the feel of her feather-soft fingertips and was shocked when the fingers that were caressing him also trembled.

"Isabella, love, are you cold?" Edward questioned his wife as he ran his hands along the skin under her tank top. Beneath his fingers he felt her skin break out in goosebumps and he immediately chastised himself for allowing his needs and wants to come before her comfort.

Never again, he reminded himself sternly. Never again would her feelings be disregarded.

Edward moved to get up but she surprised him by grasping his arms to hold him in place.

Isabella didn't want the moment to end. She wasn't the least bit cold. In fact, where Edward's hands moved, her skin felt like it was on fire. Desire burned deep and profound inside of her and she would be damned if she let this moment go. She had no idea what was going on with her husband, but for the first time in much too long, he looked at her with love in his eyes and she was determined to enjoy whatever the hell this was, for however long it lasted.

"Edward, no, sweetheart." Isabella gently shook her head. "I'm not cold at all."

"You're sure?" he questioned, needing to make sure she was comfortable.

She nodded her head. The brown hair that framed her heart-shaped face fell across her tiny shoulders and covered her sinfully sexy collarbones. Edward felt something primal stir within him and he bent forward trailing hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses from her shoulder across her collarbones and up her neck.

"I need you, Isabella," he breathed out into her ear as he let his tongue curl around her earlobe.

Isabella groaned wantonly in her throat, the feel of Edward's glorious tongue against her skin sent tingles to the place between her legs that ached to feel his touch. Feeling bolder than normal due to Edward's strange but welcomed behavior, she shifted her body and arched against him. She reached her trembling hands up and ran them through his hair. She placed her lips next to his ear where she whispered in a voice that was so full of all she was feeling…love, lust, want, need, hope… "Then take me, Edward."

Needing no further encouragement from his wife than that, Edward frantically removed her top and then her pants. His eyes devoured her when the garments were thrown haphazardly to the side and his breath caught in his throat. The navy blue scraps of lace Isabella had picked out for her husband did their job well, as he was not only breathless, but speechless. The dark blue stood out starkly against her flawless pale skin. The candles that flickered in the night breeze cast a glow that danced across her body and made her look more otherworldly than human.

She was, without a doubt, the most magnificent being Edward had ever laid his eyes on and quite unexpectedly the sight brought tears to his eyes.

"Edward," Isabella whispered softly, pulling him from the trance he'd found himself in. "Are you okay?" she asked in a voice laced with worry.

She reached up to touch him as he bent over her. Her fingers traced the lines across his forehead and down the side of his face and across his cheekbones. Her thumbs wiped the tender skin beneath his eyes, and Isabella was shocked when she felt the wetness of his tears. "Edward, what has happened? Is everything all right?"

He couldn't speak, too overcome with emotion, but he didn't want this moment to be about anything but them coming together so he placed his lips over hers and kissed her deeply.

"Shh, Isabella. Nothing in this moment is more important than you," he said when he'd finally gotten control of his spiraling emotions.

"Let me make love to you. Please? I need you so badly," he told her as he pressed the evidence of his need against her thigh as he hovered over top of her small frame.

Isabella reacted in a most pleasurable way when she felt him shift along her body. The friction each of their movements created caused them each to groan into the other's mouth as they kissed again. Edward began fumbling with the buttons of his dress shirt and was somewhat shocked when she placed her hands on top of his to still his movements.

"Let me do that. You'll rip the shirt if you don't slow down," Isabella stated and then blushed adorably as she slipped the first button through the hole. When her fingers ghosted over his chest, Edward sucked in a sharp breath and reached down to stop her.

"Fuck the shirt," he hissed as he grabbed it and flung it open. The sounds of the buttons plinking across the wooden deck mixed with the sounds of the music floating out of the speakers. When Isabella looked up into the eyes of her husband, the emerald green she was so used to had changed to almost black. If she didn't know him as well as she did she might very well be afraid of him, but she knew he would never hurt her, physically at least.

Edward lifted himself away from her, but only so he could quickly rid himself of his pants and boxers.

Isabella watched her husband with hungry eyes and didn't even try to stop her breathing as it began coming in quicker, shorter bursts. She wanted him, desperately so, and having him here in front of her, with the same need and want she felt, was almost too much for her.

He laid down again, pressing his body firmly against hers and Isabella and Edward both felt as if their bodies were fused together. His lips claimed hers again and his tongue dipped slowly into her waiting mouth. Once, twice, a third time. Each time, they twirled and twisted their tongues against the other, relishing in the feelings the intimate act brought forth.

Holy hell, Edward thought in some part of his brain. He flicked his tongue purposefully against hers and the sound that came from her caused his erection to grow even harder against her. A feat he thought was surely impossible.

"Isabella, please love, I need to be inside of you," he panted as he began to rock against the smooth skin of her thigh.

Edward reached down on the side of the chaise and released the lever that would lower them back down and as he did he moved so he was fully settled between her thighs. Christ, he thought to himself, she's so damn wet and warm already. As his mouth descended and he took a hard nipple in between his lips he wondered, yet again, how he was going to be able to go without touching her, tasting her, feeling her for any length of time ever again.

He continued with his ministrations moving from one breast to the next, teasing and tasting until Isabella was a writhing mess beneath him. Her legs spread wider to allow him to press himself even more fully against her and he couldn't help the groan that escaped his mouth when the scent of her arousal filled the air around them.

Again, he was the biggest asshole in the world. How he ever managed to make love to the woman beneath him and then retire to his bed, alone, had to be one of the stupidest and most asinine things he'd ever done in his wretched life.

Edward pushed those thoughts, and the thoughts of angels, and airplanes, and mistakes far, far away and concentrated on his wife beneath him. He was hard and aching, and she was wet and wanting, and there was no more time to waste.

He reached between their bodies and hastily pushed the fragile lace panties down Isabella's legs and then reached behind her back, taking the time to brush his fingertips across the sensitive skin to unclasp her bra and slipped it down her shoulders.

"You are absolutely breathtaking, Isabella," he whispered fervently allowing himself only a moment to memorize the sight of her, naked and glorious, in the fading sunlight before he entered her in one, swift motion.

As he completely filled her, Edward tried to focus on his wife but he couldn't. There were too many things floating in and out of his mind for him to be able to do anything except feel. The falling apart feeling from the plane settled over him as he continued to move in and out of her. He was so overwhelmed he couldn't decide if he wanted to yell out in ecstasy or cry out in shame for all the mistakes he'd made.

Isabella was freefalling. There was no other word to describe the way her body felt right at the moment. She wrapped her legs tightly around Edward's waist and with every thrust into her she raised her hips instinctively to meet him. Hips ground against hips, lips crashed against lips and fingers plunged in hair of brown and hair of bronze.

"Oh, Edward. Yes…so good, you feel so good," she panted as her tiny hands gripped the muscles that flexed in his biceps.

All it took was one look into the brown eyes beneath him and nothing else existed, nothing else mattered, except for her. All the thoughts he'd just had disappeared as Isabella's sweet cries of pleasure filled the air around them.

"That's it, Isabella. Let it go, love. Let me hear you come," he whispered as his hips swiveled and moved against her.

Her body was slick with sweat and her center was positively dripping wet as Edward slid fluidly in and out of her. She had never felt anything like it before, not even on her wedding night or during their honeymoon. Not any time since, either. Whatever was happening to them right then was on a whole other level of ecstasy, the likes of which she couldn't even have begun to imagine.

Isabella reached up and clutched Edward's shoulders as her orgasm continued to build until suddenly it exploded and she shattered in her husband's arms.

"Edward…oh God…it's too much…oh yes," she muttered incoherently as she came again, this time with such a force that all she saw was a blinding white light.

"Yes, Isabella…oh fuck…I'm coming," he panted against her neck as he released inside of her.

Their mutual release left them in a boneless, limp state as they continued to hold each other. He was never one for cuddling after having sex with Isabella, but today he couldn't move if he wanted to. His fingers ran up and down her arms and he placed numerous kisses along her shoulders and cheeks.

Isabella may have been a virgin on her wedding night, but after numerous talks with her Nonna and her mother before the day arrived, she had been given more advice than she cared to hear. She was well aware of the night time activities of Charlie and Renée Swan and her closest friend, Angela, had told her many stories of her experiences with her long-time boyfriend, Ben. She'd read about more sex than Charlie would ever want to know about. She'd seen it on television and heard it sung about in songs.

She may have chosen to save herself to give to her husband on their wedding night but that did not make her a prude. Nor did it make her shy when it came to the act itself. Isabella was eager and excited to experience sex and as Edward undressed her in the middle of their Honeymoon Suite in the Grand Hotel in Rome, she happily let her husband take her virginity. He had been surprisingly tender and gentle with her and in turn she had been willing and enthusiastic. As has happened throughout all of time, the first time ended with a bit of pain and a bit of blood.

Due to the long flight to Italy preceded by the intimate but extravagant wedding Edward and Isabella had had, making love one time was all their exhausted bodies could manage. However, they more than made up for the egregious mistake during the remainder of their stay in Rome. Edward had promised Isabella he would take her to all the museums, cathedrals, shopping centers, and restaurants they could fit in their two week honeymoon, but managed only a trip to the Vatican during their time in Italy. The remainder of it was spent making love on every surface imaginable in the suite, not to mention the pool, the elevator, and a few others as well.

Edward was more than pleasantly surprised by his new bride's voracious sexual appetite. While no one would ever dare call Edward Cullen a demonstrative man, the two weeks he spent in Italy with his newly-deflowered wife could honestly be categorized as the happiest days he'd ever spent. Perhaps it was the freedom from responsibilities or the distance from the painful reminders of his past that allowed him a brief respite from his normally staid life.

The return flight to Chicago was long and made to feel even longer still as Isabella watched with horrified eyes as her husband turned from carefree and buoyant to closed off and cold. Gone were the tender touches, the casual looks, or the presses of soft kisses to her temple for no apparent reason. In its place was restraint and aloofness and Isabella cried herself to sleep their first night in their new home in Evanston.

Edward heard her of course; they did begin their marriage sharing the same bed at night. However his work schedule, though it was by choice that he was at the office until all hours of the night, coupled with his pretended indifference gave Isabella the push she needed to leave their bedroom and make her own in the room down the hall.

It was a gradual thing, slowly building after years of sporadic intimacy. They made love with a somewhat regular occurrence. It wasn't as frequent as she wished, though. It was almost as if Edward felt it was easier to be close to her while they were making love than by spending a night with her curled up on the couch watching a movie. Isabella tried to talk to him about it on numerous occasions. She got angry, really angry sometimes, and Edward was shown up close and personal just how volatile her temper could be when pushed to her limit. When that didn't work she tried to talk to him calmly. She tried to talk to him in the middle of and after making love, but the moment the subject of his reluctance to share all of himself with her was brought up, he immediately shut down and would remain that way until he felt less cornered.

It really had just gotten to the point where it was too painful to sleep in the same bed as him and feel like he was miles away, so she left. She didn't want to, no woman would ever want such a thing to happen, but it was really the only way she could protect herself from the pain his actions continually caused her. Again, it was less than ideal, and whenever Isabella felt like she had reached the end of her patience with him, her heart would literally feel like it was breaking when she tried to imagine her life without him in it.

He never acknowledged the move outwardly, but the first night alone in his bedroom he paced the hallway more times than could be counted. He would pause every single time at her new bedroom door, poised to knock and beg her to return. And every time he would berate himself for being a cold, heartless bastard, and a scared fucking idiot, and resume his pacing.

So much time wasted, Edward said to himself and he tried to rid himself of the unpleasant thoughts that threatened to come to the forefront.

Once their bodies returned to a normal state, Edward found himself missing being inside of his wife. It was a new feeling and one that would require further examination at a later time. The night had turned a bit cooler and he shifted them so that he lay beside her and was able to wrap an arm around her and pull her close to him. She instinctively curled her tiny body toward his and cuddled against his side, laying her head comfortingly above his heart.

Isabella had no idea what was happening or what had caused her Edward to act in such an uncharacteristic manner but she didn't care at the moment. All she knew was that for the first time in a long time, Edward didn't immediately leave after their lovemaking. He was holding her and if she wasn't mistaken, he was just as loathe to be away from her as she was him. She felt herself being lulled to sleep by the feel of Edward's fingers running through her hair and the soft music playing in the background.

"I love you, Edward," she breathed out just before sleep claimed her.

Edward stopped his movements when he heard the soft words escape her mouth and his heart contracted painfully in his chest. Those four words, so simple really, but so profound at the same time.

"She does, too, you know?" Seth said, materializing beside where Edward lay with Isabella.

A blanket immediately appeared to cover the both of them and Edward had to fight back the jealous urge that flared at the thought of anyone seeing his wife in such a state. Even if that other person…wasn't a person at all.

Once he was able to shift his body and ensure Isabella's privacy, he turned to the annoying being.

"I know she does," Edward murmured softly.

He squirmed under the angel's incessant stare. Seth regarded his charge, noting with distinct pleasure his relaxed features and calm demeanor. There was something different about Edward and Seth was sure he knew what it was, even though as he promised, the reunion between Edward and the delightful Isabella was private between the two of them.

"You love her, too, yes?" Seth questioned with a smirk.

"Without question," Edward answered immediately, filled with too many emotions to even give them all a name.

"So why didn't you tell her?" the angel asked.

Tonight, Edward noticed, the big man was dressed casually. He had on a pair of khaki cargo shorts, a Chicago Cubs t-shirt and red, white, and black Nike Air Max's were on his large feet. He had on a Cubs hat, turned backward, and he reminded Edward of his brother, Emmett.

A sudden wave of nostalgia wafted over him and like with Isabella, Edward suddenly wanted to see his brother. Their relationship was strained due to his mercurial nature but the easygoing Emmett loved his brother with all his heart. Edward was well aware of that fact, though again like with his wife, he didn't usually acknowledge it. Instead, like was his nature to do, he kept himself from getting too close.

A twenty year pattern of behavior was a very difficult thing to deviate from.

Edward attended Emmett's wedding to his Rosie but never showed up for the births of either of their children. He was absent the days Father O'Connor baptized each one. Edward did not know that Emmett had desperately wanted him to be the godfather to his son Jack, but Rosie convinced him that it made no sense to even ask him. Isabella attended both baptisms, accompanied by her parents and grandmother. Isabella was even Emma's godmother. Edward's best friend, hell one of his only friends, Jasper, was Emma's godfather. According to Jasper, he was just filling in until Edward pulled his head out of his ass and then Jasper would willingly give Edward the duties that should be his in the first place.

While Edward lived his life blindly, hiding from those around him for the most part, his family never stopped loving him. His behavior had scarred them all deeply and though no one was privy to the dark places inside of Edward, everyone knew they existed. Isabella wasn't even privy to the demons Edward fought within himself.

Edward was adopted by Carlisle and Esme Cullen when he was fourteen-years-old. When he arrived at the Cullen household after a quick and very necessary adoption, Emmett had already been adopted by the wonderful duo many years before. Emmett was adopted when he was only two and never knew his biological parents. Emmett loved his parents, he truly did, but he was lonely being an only child. Carlisle and Esme had discussed adopting another child numerous times, but whenever it came time to contact their lawyer and begin preparations something always held them back.

It was if they were waiting for a sign and it came in the form of their nephew, Edward. He was the son of Esme's estranged sister, Maggie, and her husband, Liam. At the time of their death, the facts of which only Edward knew, Esme hadn't spoken a word to her sister since before Edward was born. Maggie had had a falling out with her father over her relationship with Liam, and when forced to choose between her family or her love, like any headstrong seventeen-year-old girl, she chose the man.

Edward had endured years and years of despair by the time he went to live with the aunt and uncle he'd only heard about and it had caused severe damage to him. Edward was reserved, aloof, and distant. Edward spoke only when spoken to, interacting with his family only when it became absolutely necessary to do so. No matter how much his family wished differently, Edward was always on the outside of his family looking in.

"Mmmm, Edward," Isabella murmured in her sleep, pulling him, thankfully, back to the present.

There was time to revisit the first fourteen years of his life later. Here, with a beautiful woman laying serenely in his arms, was neither the time nor the place.

"Why did you not tell her you loved her, Edward Anthony?" Seth questioned as he regarded his charge.

Edward quickly put the thoughts of his birth parents out of his mind and glanced at the angel again. "Because I don't deserve to tell her again. What have I done to show her that I love her? Why would she ever believe a word that came out of my mouth? No, when I next tell my wife I love her she will know, without a doubt, that what I say is true. Actions speak louder than words, yes?" Edward asked Seth.

Edward didn't often tell his wife he loved her; a fact of which he admitted with a heavy heart. There wasn't much about love he understood, and what he understood was too painful for him to think about. The feelings he had for his wife, that he'd had for her since the first moment they met, scared the ever-living shit out of him; they always had.

Seth was, in all actuality, stunned by the words Edward had just spoken. While Seth knew what haunted Edward, it was most unexpected for him to act in such a way.

"Edward, are you all right?" Seth asked, sounding more human than otherworldly. So much so that Edward chuckled, which in turn caused Isabella to stir in her slumber.

Edward bent his head down and whispered softly in his wife's ear and ran his fingers lovingly through her hair as it fell across his chest. She immediately calmed and with a tiny sigh, fell asleep once more. "Of course I'm fine," Edward said in a measured tone as he turned to face the angel person. "Wouldn't you know if I wasn't?" he questioned as he thought for the first time since he'd arrived home about the reason for the annoying being's presence in the first place.

"I presume so, yes," Seth answered affirmatively. "However, even I am at a loss for your rather sudden and total change of demeanor," the angel stated.

Edward thought seriously for a moment before he began to speak. "This isn't a trick or anything like that, is it? I mean you say you've been sent to help me put my life in order before it's my time to go. Is that really true? I'm really going to die?" he asked, trying to choke back the despair that threatened to spill out.

"Yes, Edward Anthony, what I've told you is the truth. You know I can't lie to you, nor would I. When I was given my duty to help you I was told that you did not have long before the end would come. I know my kind's interpretation is much different from you human's, but time is of the essence nonetheless," Seth said as he tried to figure out the complex man in front of him. "Why do you ask?"

"When I die, will she be okay?" Edward asked in a voice that was so full of pain it was hard for Seth to hear.

"Edward, Isabella loves you deeply. She will never love another the way she does you," the angel said softly, his voice sounding more like bells than the thundering drums it usually did. "While your passing will cause her tremendous pain and she will mourn your loss for many years, she will move on. Much like her Nonna, though the ineffable Gianna Santoro had many, many more years with her Angelo than Isabella will be granted with you, sadly," Seth finished.

"Do you know how I will die?" Edward asked, not entirely positive he wanted to hear the answer.

"I do not," Seth answered.

It was true. When Seth was given his assignment and was given all the pertinent information he needed, Seth had been in such a hurry it was a wonder there was any time to make the necessary preparations. While the angel was well aware of the monumental task ahead of him, there was no one who would be better equipped to handle Edward Anthony Cullen than Seth.

"What do I do now?" Edward asked, this time really wanting to know the answer.

"Well, if I am not mistaken, and we've already readily established I am NEVER wrong, the lovely Isabella will be waking momentarily. Just a word of warning my young friend, you will have some massive explaining to do."

Seth let out a booming laugh that shook the ground.

"I'll be close by if you need me, Eddie. I can't wait to see this," the annoying being chuckled as he faded into the night.

Edward shook his head and looked at his delectable wife. Surely the angel was mistaken, right? There was no way Isabella…soft, quiet, and gentle Isabella would ever be anyone to be afraid of…was there?

The way they'd just made love and the way it felt to hold her as she slept lulled Edward into a most false sense of security. He cringed as he realized that while he might choose to pretend he had fooled his wife, he knew nothing was further from the truth. Isabella could spot bullshit from a mile away and he was quite certain that no matter how much he wished in this case he could hide from her, he knew in fact he could not.

Isabella awoke from the best, most restful sleep she could remember. Her limbs were relaxed and her heart and mind were full of nothing but the way Edward had kissed her and the way he held her while she slept. She stretched and moved enticingly against her husband and said husband had to grit his teeth to hold in the moan of pleasure as his wife's lithe body moved along his.

"Hello, love, did you have a nice nap?" Edward asked his wife sweetly as he pushed her hair back over her shoulder and bent down to kiss her naked shoulder.

Before his lips reached their target, the sweet wife he was used to turned into the ball of fire Renée Swan and Gianna Santoro knew so well.

"Now you just wait a damn minute, Edward Anthony Cullen. I want to know what the hell is going on with you and I want to know right now!" Isabella demanded as she reached down and grabbed her husband's ruined dress shirt and slipped her arms in. She tied the shirt closed to give herself a bit of modesty and Edward nearly groaned out loud at the sight in front him.

His wife stood before him, her brown eyes seemingly lit from within they blazed so brightly. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was a gorgeous mess of brown curls from her nap and Edward's fingers. Her legs were so firm and shapely and the dark blue dress shirt he had worn with his suit set off her pale skin in such a way that Edward was nearly breathless at the sight of her. Gone was the demure wife he'd made love to; in her place was a breathtaking Italian siren who was going to get the answers she was looking for.

"So why don't you tell me where the real Edward Cullen is because he is most definitely not you!" Isabella said and leveled her bottomless brown eyes at him.

Shit, where was an angel when you needed one?

~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~