I laughed at the way it sounded. “Yeah, I can’t get mine to shut up, either.”
   “In your case, that would mean you’re insane. Of course, I already knew that you were insane,” he teased.
   “Thanks.”
   “Insanity is probably easier than sharing a pack mind. Crazy people’s voices don’t send babysitters to watch them.”
   “Huh?”
   “Sam’s out there. And some of the others. Just in case, you know.”
   “In case of what?”
   “In case I can’t keep it together, something like that. In case I decide to trash the party.” He flashed a quick smile at what was probably an appealing thought to him. “But I’m not here to ruin your wedding, Bella. I’m here to . . .” He trailed off.
   “To make it perfect.”
   “That’s a tall order.”
   “Good thing you’re so tall.”
   He groaned at my bad joke and then sighed. “I’m just here to be your friend. Your best friend, one last time.”
   “Sam should give you more credit.”
   “Well, maybe I’m being oversensitive. Maybe they’d be here anyway, to keep an eye on Seth. There are a lotof vampires here. Seth doesn’t take that as seriously as he should.”
   “Seth knows that he’s not in any danger. He understands the Cullens better than Sam does.”
   “Sure, sure,” Jacob said, making peace before it could turn into a fight.
   It was strange to have him being the diplomat.
   “Sorry about those voices,” I said. “Wish I could make it better.” In so many ways.
   “It’s not that bad. I’m just whining a little.”
   “You’re… happy?”
   “Close enough. But enough about me. You’re the star today.” He chuckled. “I bet you’re just lovingthat. Center of attention.”
   “Yeah. Can’t get enough attention.”
   He laughed and then stared over my head. With pursed lips, he studied the shimmering glow of the reception party, the graceful whirl of the dancers, the fluttering petals falling from the garlands; I looked with him. It all seemed very distant from this black, quiet space. Almost like watching the white flurries swirling inside a snow globe.
   “I’ll give them this much,” he said. “They know how to throw a party.”
   “Alice is an unstoppable force of nature.”
   He sighed. “Song’s over. Do you think I get another one? Or is that asking too much?”
   I tightened my hand around his. “You can have as many dances as you want.”
   He laughed. “That would be interesting. I think I’d better stick with two, though. Don’t want to start talk.”
   We turned in another circle.
   “You’d think I’d be used to telling you goodbye by now,” he murmured.
   I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but I couldn’t force it down.
   Jacob looked at me and frowned. He wiped his fingers across my cheek, catching the tears there.
   “You’re not supposed to be the one crying, Bella.”
   “Everyone cries at weddings,” I said thickly.
   “This is what you want, right?”
   “Right.”
   “Then smile.”
   I tried. He laughed at my grimace.
   “I’m going to try to remember you like this. Pretend that . . .”
   “That what? That I died?”
   He clenched his teeth. He was struggling with himself—with his decision to make his presence here a gift and not a judgment. I could guess what he wanted to say.
   “No,” he finally answered. “But I’ll see you this way in my head. Pink cheeks. Heartbeat. Two left feet. All of that.”
   I deliberately stomped on his foot as hard as I could.
   He smiled. “That’s my girl.”
   He started to say something else and then snapped his mouth closed. Struggling again, teeth gritted against the words he didn’t want to say.
   My relationship with Jacob used to be so easy. Natural as breathing. But since Edward had come back into my life, it was a constant strain. Because—in Jacob’s eyes—by choosing Edward, I was choosing a fate that was worse than death, or at least equivalent to it.
   “What is it, Jake? Just tell me. You can tell me anything.”
   “I—I… I don’t have anything to tell you.”
   “Oh please. Spit it out.”
   “It’s true. It’s not… it’s—it’s a question. It’s something I want youto tell me.”
   “Ask me.”
   He struggled for another minute and then exhaled. “I shouldn’t. It doesn’t matter. I’m just morbidly curious.”
   Because I knew him so well, I understood.
   “It’s not tonight, Jacob,” I whispered.
   Jacob was even more obsessed with my humanity than Edward. He treasured every one of my heartbeats, knowing that they were numbered.
   “Oh,” he said, trying to smother his relief. “Oh.”
   A new song started playing, but he didn’t notice the change this time.
   “When?” he whispered.
   “I don’t know for sure. A week or two, maybe.”
   His voice changed, took on a defensive, mocking edge. “What’s the holdup?”
   “I just didn’t want to spend my honeymoon writhing in pain.”
   “You’d rather spend it how? Playing checkers? Ha ha.”
   “Very funny.”
   “Kidding, Bells. But, honestly, I don’t see the point. You can’t have a real honeymoon with your vampire, so why go through the motions? Call a spade a spade. This isn’t the first time you’ve put this off. That’s a goodthing, though,” he said, suddenly earnest. “Don’t be embarrassed about it.”
   “I’m not putting anything off,” I snapped. “And yes I canhave a real honeymoon! I can do anything I want! Butt out!”
   He stopped our slow circling abruptly. For a moment, I wondered if he’d finally noticed the music change, and I scrambled in my head for a way to patch up our little tiff before he said goodbye to me. We shouldn’t part on this note.
   And then his eyes bulged wide with a strange kind of confused horror.
   “What?” he gasped. “What did you say?”
   “About what… ? Jake? What’s wrong?”
   “What do you mean? Have a real honeymoon? While you’re still human? Are you kidding? That’s a sick joke, Bella!”
   I glared at him. “I said butt out, Jake. This is sonot your business. I shouldn’t have… we shouldn’t even be talking about this. It’s private—”
   His enormous hands gripped the tops of my arms, wrapping all the way around, fingers overlapping.
   “Ow, Jake! Let go!”
   He shook me.
   “Bella! Have you lost your mind? You can’t be that stupid! Tell me you’re joking!”
   He shook me again. His hands, tight as tourniquets, were quivering, sending vibrations deep into my bones.
   “Jake—stop!”
   The darkness was suddenly very crowded.
   “Take your hands off her!” Edward’s voice was cold as ice, sharp as razors.
   Behind Jacob, there was a low snarl from the black night, and then another, overlapping the first.
   “Jake, bro, back away,” I heard Seth Clearwater urge. “You’re losing it.”
   Jacob seemed frozen as he was, his horrified eyes wide and staring.
   “You’ll hurt her,” Seth whispered. “Let her go.”
   “Now!” Edward snarled.
   Jacob’s hands dropped to his sides, and the sudden gush of blood through my waiting veins was almost painful. Before I could register more than that, cold hands replaced the hot ones, and the air was suddenly whooshing past me.
   I blinked, and I was on my feet a half dozen feet away from where I’d been standing. Edward was tensed in front of me. There were two enormous wolves braced between him and Jacob, but they did not seem aggressive to me. More like they were trying to prevent the fight.
   And Seth—gangly, fifteen-year-old Seth—had his long arms around Jacob’s shaking body, and he was tugging him away. If Jacob phased with Seth so close…
   “C’mon, Jake. Let’s go.”
   “I’ll kill you,” Jacob said, his voice so choked with rage that it was low as a whisper. His eyes, focused on Edward, burned with fury. “I’ll kill you myself! I’ll do it now!” He shuddered convulsively.
   The biggest wolf, the black one, growled sharply.
   “Seth, get out of the way,” Edward hissed.
   Seth tugged on Jacob again. Jacob was so bewildered with rage that Seth was able to yank him a few feet farther back. “Don’t do it, Jake. Walk away. C’mon.”
   Sam—the bigger wolf, the black one—joined Seth then. He put his massive head against Jacob’s chest and shoved.
   The three of them—Seth towing, Jake trembling, Sam pushing—disappeared swiftly into the darkness.
   The other wolf stared after them. I wasn’t sure, in the weak light, about the color of his fur—chocolate brown, maybe? Was it Quil, then?
   “I’m sorry,” I whispered to the wolf.
   “It’s all right now, Bella,” Edward murmured.
   The wolf looked at Edward. His gaze was not friendly. Edward gave him one cold nod. The wolf huffed and then turned to follow the others, vanishing as they had.
   “All right,” Edward said to himself, and then he looked at me. “Let’s get back.”
   “But Jake—”
   “Sam has him in hand. He’s gone.”
   “Edward, I’m so sorry. I was stupid—”
   “You did nothing wrong—”
   “I have such a big mouth! Why would I… I shouldn’t have let him get to me like that. What was I thinking?”
   “Don’t worry.” He touched my face. “We need to get back to the reception before someone notices our absence.”
   I shook my head, trying to reorient myself. Before someone noticed? Had anyone missedthat?
   Then, as I thought about it, I realized the confrontation that had seemed so catastrophic to me had, in reality, been very quiet and short here in the shadows.
   “Give me two seconds,” I pleaded.
   My insides were chaotic with panic and grief, but that didn’t matter—only the outside mattered right now. Putting on a good show was something I knew I had to master.
   “My dress?”
   “You look fine. Not a hair out of place.”
   I took two deep breaths. “Okay. Let’s go.”
   He put his arms around me and led me back to the light. When we passed under the twinkle lights, he spun me gently onto the dance floor. We melted in with the other dancers as if our dance had never been interrupted.
   I glanced around at the guests, but no one seemed shocked or frightened. Only the very palest faces there showed any signs of stress, and they hid it well. Jasper and Emmett were on the edge of the floor, close together, and I guessed that they had been nearby during the confrontation.
   “Are you—”
   “I’m fine,” I promised. “I can’t believe I did that. What’s wrong with me?”
   “Nothing is wrong with you.”
   I’d been so glad to see Jacob here. I knew the sacrifice it had taken him. And then I’d ruined it, turned his gift into a disaster. I should be quarantined.
   But my idiocy would not ruin anything else tonight. I would put this away, shove it in a drawer and lock it up to deal with later. There would be plenty of time to flagellate myself for this, and nothing I could do now would help.
   “It’s over,” I said. “Let’s not think of it again tonight.”
   I expected a quick agreement from Edward, but he was silent.
   “Edward?”
   He closed his eyes and touched his forehead to mine. “Jacob is right,” he whispered. “What amI thinking?”
   “He is not.” I tried to keep my face smooth for the watching crowd of friends. “Jacob is way too prejudiced to see anything clearly.”
   He mumbled something low that sounded almost like “ shouldlet him kill me for even thinking . . .”
   “Stop it,” I said fiercely. I grabbed his face in my hands and waited until he opened his eyes. “You and me. That’s the only thing that matters. The only thing you’re allowed to think about now. Do you hear me?”
   “Yes,” he sighed.
   “Forget Jacob came.” I could do that. I woulddo that. “For me. Promise that you’ll let this go.”
   He stared into my eyes for a moment before answering. “I promise.”
   “Thank you. Edward, I’m not afraid.”
   “I am,” he whispered.
   “Don’t be.” I took deep breath and smiled. “By the way, I love you.”
   He smiled just a little in return. “That’s why we’re here.”
   “You’re monopolizing the bride,” Emmett said, coming up behind Edward’s shoulder. “Let me dance with my little sister. This could be my last chance to make her blush.” He laughed loudly, as unaffected as he usually was by any serious atmosphere.
   It turned out there were actually lots of people I hadn’t danced with yet, and that gave me a chance to truly compose and resolve myself. When Edward claimed me again, I found that the Jacob-drawer was shut nice and tight. As he wrapped his arms around me, I was able to unearth my earlier sense of joy, my certainty that everything in my life was in the right place tonight. I smiled and laid my head against his chest. His arms tightened.
   “I could get used to this,” I said.
   “Don’t tell me you’ve gotten over your dancing issues?”
   “Dancing isn’t so bad—with you. But I was thinking more of this,”—and I pressed myself to him even tighter—“of never having to let you go.”
   “Never,” he promised, and he leaned down to kiss me.
   It was a serious kind of kiss—intense, slow but building.…
   I’d pretty much forgotten where I was when I heard Alice call, “Bella! It’s time!”
   I felt a brief flicker of irritation with my new sister for the interruption.
   Edward ignored her; his lips were hard against mine, more urgent than before. My heart broke into a sprint and my palms were slick against his marble neck.
   “Do you want to miss your plane?” Alice demanded, right next to me now. “I’m sure you’ll have a lovely honeymoon camped out in the airport waiting for another flight.”
   Edward turned his face slightly to murmur, “Go away, Alice,” and then pressed his lips to mine again.
   “Bella, do you want to wear that dress on the airplane?” she demanded.
   I wasn’t really paying much attention. At the moment, I simply didn’t care.
   Alice growled quietly. “I’ll tell her where you’re taking her, Edward. So help me, I will.”
   He froze. Then he lifted his face from mine and glared at his favorite sister. “You’re awfully small to be so hugely irritating.”
   “I didn’t pick out the perfect going-away dress to have it wasted,” she snapped back, taking my hand. “Come with me, Bella.”
   I tugged against her hold, stretching up on my toes to kiss him one more time. She jerked my arm impatiently, hauling me away from him. There were a few chuckles from the watching guests. I gave up then and let her lead me into the empty house.
   She looked annoyed.
   “Sorry, Alice,” I apologized.
   “I don’t blame you, Bella.” She sighed. “You don’t seem to be able help yourself.”
   I giggled at her martyred expression, and she scowled.
   “Thank you, Alice. It was the most beautiful wedding anyone ever had,” I told her earnestly. “Everything was exactly right. You’re the best, smartest, most talented sister in the whole world.”
   That thawed her out; she smiled a huge smile. “I’m glad you liked it.”
   Renйe and Esme were waiting upstairs. The three of them quickly had me out of my dress and into Alice’s deep blue going-away ensemble. I was grateful when someone pulled the pins out of my hair and let it fall loose down my back, wavy from the braids, saving me from a hairpin headache later. My mother’s tears streamed without a break the entire time.
   “I’ll call you when I know where I’m going,” I promised as I hugged her goodbye. I knew the honeymoon secret was probably driving her crazy; my mother hated secrets, unless she was in on them.
   “I’ll tell you as soon as she’s safely away,” Alice outdid me, smirking at my wounded expression. How unfair, for me to be the last to know.
   “You have to visit me and Phil very, very soon. It’s your turn to go south—see the sun for once,” Renйe said.
   “It didn’t rain today,” I reminded her, avoiding her request.
   “A miracle.”
   “Everything’s ready,” Alice said. “Your suitcases are in the car—Jasper’s bringing it around.” She pulled me back toward the stairs with Renйe following, still halfway embracing me.
   “I love you, Mom,” I whispered as we descended. “I’m so glad you have Phil. Take care of each other.”
   “I love you, too, Bella, honey.”
   “Goodbye, Mom. I love you,” I said again, my throat thick.
   Edward was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. I took his outstretched hand but leaned away, scanning the little crowd that was waiting to see us off.
   “Dad?” I asked, my eyes searching.
   “Over here,” Edward murmured. He pulled me through the guests; they made a pathway for us. We found Charlie leaning awkwardly against the wall behind everyone else, looking a little like he was hiding. The red rims around his eyes explained why.
   “Oh, Dad!”
   I hugged him around the waist, tears streaming again—I was crying so much tonight. He patted my back.
   “There, now. You don’t want to miss your plane.”
   It was hard to talk about love with Charlie—we were so much alike, always reverting to trivial things to avoid embarrassing emotional displays. But this was no time for being self-conscious.
   “I love you forever, Dad,” I told him. “Don’t forget that.”
   “You, too, Bells. Always have, always will.”
   I kissed his cheek at the same time that he kissed mine.
   “Call me,” he said.
   “Soon,” I promised, knowing this was allI could promise. Just a phone call. My father and my mother could not be allowed to see me again; I would be too different, and much, much too dangerous.
   “Go on, then,” he said gruffly. “Don’t want to be late.”
   The guests made another aisle for us. Edward pulled me close to his side as we made our escape.
   “Are you ready?” he asked.
   “I am,” I said, and I knew that it was true.
   Everyone applauded when Edward kissed me on the doorstep. Then he rushed me to the car as the rice storm began. Most of it went wide, but someone, probably Emmett, threw with uncanny precision, and I caught a lot of the ricochets off Edward’s back.
   The car was decorated with more flowers that trailed in streamers along its length, and long gossamer ribbons that were tied to a dozen shoes—designer shoes that looked brand-new—dangling behind the bumper.
   Edward shielded me from the rice while I climbed in, and then he was in and we were speeding away as I waved out the window and called “I love you” to the porch, where my families waved back.
   The last image I registered was one of my parents. Phil had both arms wrapped tenderly around Renйe. She had one arm tight around his waist but had her free hand reached out to hold Charlie’s. So many different kinds of love, harmonious in this one moment. It seemed a very hopeful picture to me.
   Edward squeezed my hand.
   “I love you,” he said.
   I leaned my head against his arm. “That’s why we’re here,” I quoted him.
   He kissed my hair.
   As we turned onto the black highway and Edward really hit the accelerator, I heard a noise over the purr of the engine, coming from the forest behind us. If I could hear it, then he certainly could. But he said nothing as the sound slowly faded in the distance. I said nothing, either.
   The piercing, heartbroken howling grew fainter and then disappeared entirely.

5 ISLE ESME

   “Houston?” I asked, raising my eyebrows when we reached the gate in Seattle.
   “Just a stop along the way,” Edward assured me with a grin.
   It felt like I’d barely fallen asleep when he woke me. I was groggy as he pulled me through the terminals, struggling to remember how to open my eyes after every blink. It took me a few minutes to catch up with what was going on when we stopped at the international counter to check in for our next flight.
   “Rio de Janeiro?” I asked with slightly more trepidation.
   “Another stop,” he told me.
   The flight to South America was long but comfortable in the wide first-class seat, with Edward’s arms cradled around me. I slept myself out and awoke unusually alert as we circled toward the airport with the light of the setting sun slanting through the plane’s windows.
   We didn’t stay in the airport to connect with another flight as I’d expected. Instead we took a taxi through the dark, teeming, living streets of Rio. Unable to understand a word of Edward’s Portuguese instructions to the driver, I guessed that we were off to find a hotel before the next leg of our journey. A sharp twinge of something very close to stage fright twisted in the pit of my stomach as I considered that. The taxi continued through the swarming crowds until they thinned somewhat, and we appeared to be nearing the extreme western edge of the city, heading into the ocean.
   We stopped at the docks.
   Edward led the way down the long line of white yachts moored in the night-blackened water. The boat he stopped at was smaller than the others, sleeker, obviously built for speed instead of space. Still luxurious, though, and more graceful than the rest. He leaped in lightly, despite the heavy bags he carried. He dropped those on the deck and turned to help me carefully over the edge.
   I watched in silence while he prepared the boat for departure, surprised at how skilled and comfortable he seemed, because he’d never mentioned an interest in boating before. But then again, he was good at just about everything.
   As we headed due east into the open ocean, I reviewed basic geography in my head. As far as I could remember, there wasn’t much east of Brazil… until you got to Africa.
   But Edward sped forward while the lights of Rio faded and ultimately disappeared behind us. On his face was a familiar exhilarated smile, the one produced by any form of speed. The boat plunged through the waves and I was showered with sea spray.
   Finally the curiosity I’d suppressed so long got the best of me.
   “Are we going much farther?” I asked.
   It wasn’t like him to forget that I was human, but I wondered if he planned for us to live on this small craft for any length of time.
   “About another half hour.” His eyes took in my hands, clenched on the seat, and he grinned.
   Oh well, I thought to myself. He was a vampire, after all. Maybe we were going to Atlantis.
   Twenty minutes later, he called my name over the roar of the engine.
   “Bella, look there.” He pointed straight ahead.
   I saw only blackness at first, and the moon’s white trail across the water. But I searched the space where he pointed until I found a low black shape breaking into the sheen of moonlight on the waves. As I squinted into the darkness, the silhouette became more detailed. The shape grew into a squat, irregular triangle, with one side trailing longer than the other before sinking into the waves. We drew closer, and I could see the outline was feathery, swaying to the light breeze.
   And then my eyes refocused and the pieces all made sense: a small island rose out of the water ahead of us, waving with palm fronds, a beach glowing pale in the light of the moon.
   “Where are we?” I murmured in wonder while he shifted course, heading around to the north end of the island.
   He heard me, despite the noise of the engine, and smiled a wide smile that gleamed in the moonlight.
   “This is Isle Esme.”
   The boat slowed dramatically, drawing with precision into position against a short dock constructed of wooden planks, bleached into whiteness by the moon. The engine cut off, and the silence that followed was profound. There was nothing but the waves, slapping lightly against the boat, and the rustle of the breeze in the palms. The air was warm, moist, and fragrant—like the steam left behind after a hot shower.
   “Isle Esme?” My voice was low, but it still sounded too loud as it broke into the quiet night.
   “A gift from Carlisle—Esme offered to let us borrow it.”
   A gift. Who gives an island as a gift? I frowned. I hadn’t realized that Edward’s extreme generosity was a learned behavior.
   He placed the suitcases on the dock and then turned back, smiling his perfect smile as he reached for me. Instead of taking my hand, he pulled me right up into his arms.
   “Aren’t you supposed to wait for the threshold?” I asked, breathless, as he sprung lightly out of the boat.
   He grinned. “I’m nothing if not thorough.”
   Gripping the handles of both huge steamer trunks in one hand and cradling me in the other arm, he carried me up the dock and onto a pale sand pathway through the dark vegetation.
   For a short while it was pitch black in the jungle-like growth, and then I could see a warm light ahead. It was about at the point when I realized the light was a house—the two bright, perfect squares were wide windows framing a front door—that the stage fright attacked again, more forcefully than before, worse than when I’d thought we were headed for a hotel.
   My heart thudded audibly against my ribs, and my breath seemed to get stuck in my throat. I felt Edward’s eyes on my face, but I refused to meet his gaze. I stared straight ahead, seeing nothing.
   He didn’t ask what I was thinking, which was out of character for him. I guessed that meant that he was just as nervous as I suddenly was.
   He set the suitcases on the deep porch to open the doors—they were unlocked.
   Edward looked down at me, waiting until I met his gaze before he stepped through the threshold.
   He carried me through the house, both of us very quiet, flipping on lights as he went. My vague impression of the house was that it was quite large for a tiny island, and oddly familiar. I’d gotten used to the pale-on-pale color scheme preferred by the Cullens; it felt like home. I couldn’t focus on any specifics, though. The violent pulse beating behind my ears made everything a little blurry.
   Then Edward stopped and turned on the last light.
   The room was big and white, and the far wall was mostly glass—standard dйcor for my vampires. Outside, the moon was bright on white sand and, just a few yards away from the house, glistening waves. But I barely noted that part. I was more focused on the absolutely hugewhite bed in the center of the room, hung with billowy clouds of mosquito netting.
   Edward set me on my feet.
   “I’ll… go get the luggage.”
   The room was too warm, stuffier than the tropical night outside. A bead of sweat dewed up on the nape of my neck. I walked slowly forward until I could reach out and touch the foamy netting. For some reason I felt the need to make sure everything was real.
   I didn’t hear Edward return. Suddenly, his wintry finger caressed the back of my neck, wiping away the drop of perspiration.
   “It’s a little hot here,” he said apologetically. “I thought… that would be best.”
   “Thorough,” I murmured under my breath, and he chuckled. It was a nervous sound, rare for Edward.
   “I tried to think of everything that would make this… easier,” he admitted.
   I swallowed loudly, still facing away from him. Had there ever been a honeymoon like this before?
   I knew the answer to that. No. There had not.
   “I was wondering,” Edward said slowly, “if… first… maybe you’d like to take a midnight swim with me?” He took a deep breath, and his voice was more at ease when he spoke again. “The water will be very warm. This is the kind of beach you approve of.”
   “Sounds nice.” My voice broke.
   “I’m sure you’d like a human minute or two.… It was a long journey.”
   I nodded woodenly. I felt barely human; maybe a few minutes alone would help.
   His lips brushed against my throat, just below my ear. He chuckled once and his cool breath tickled my overheated skin. “Don’t take toolong, Mrs. Cullen.”
   I jumped a little at the sound of my new name.
   His lips brushed down my neck to the tip of my shoulder. “I’ll wait for you in the water.”
   He walked past me to the French door that opened right onto the beach sand. On the way, he shrugged out of his shirt, dropping it on the floor, and then slipped through the door into the moonlit night. The sultry, salty air swirled into the room behind him.
   Did my skin burst into flames? I had to look down to check. Nope, nothing was burning. At least, not visibly.
   I reminded myself to breathe, and then I stumbled toward the giant suitcase that Edward had opened on top of a low white dresser. It must be mine, because my familiar bag of toiletries was right on top, and there was a lot of pink in there, but I didn’t recognize even one article of clothing. As I pawed through the neatly folded piles—looking for something familiar and comfortable, a pair of old sweats maybe—it came to my attention that there was an awful lot of sheer lace and skimpy satin in my hands. Lingerie. Very lingerie-ish lingerie, with French tags.
   I didn’t know how or when, but someday, Alice was going to pay for this.
   Giving up, I went to the bathroom and peeked out through the long windows that opened to the same beach as the French doors. I couldn’t see him; I guessed he was there in the water, not bothering to come up for air. In the sky above, the moon was lopsided, almost full, and the sand was bright white under its shine. A small movement caught my eye—draped over a bend in one of the palm trees that fringed the beach, the rest of his clothes were swaying in the light breeze.
   A rush of heat flashed across my skin again.
   I took a couple of deep breaths and then went to the mirrors above the long stretch of counters. I looked exactly like I’d been sleeping on a plane all day. I found my brush and yanked it harshly through the snarls on the back of my neck until they were smoothed out and the bristles were full of hair. I brushed my teeth meticulously, twice. Then I washed my face and splashed water on the back of my neck, which was feeling feverish. That felt so good that I washed my arms as well, and finally I decided to just give up and take the shower. I knew it was ridiculous to shower before swimming, but I needed to calm down, and hot water was one reliable way to do that.
   Also, shaving my legs again seemed like a pretty good idea.
   When I was done, I grabbed a huge white towel off the counter and wrapped it under my arms.
   Then I was faced with a dilemma I hadn’t considered. What was I supposed to put on? Not a swimsuit, obviously. But it seemed silly to put my clothes back on, too. I didn’t even want to think about the things Alice had packed for me.
   My breathing started to accelerate again and my hands trembled—so much for the calming effects of the shower. I started to feel a little dizzy, apparently a full-scale panic attack on the way. I sat down on the cool tile floor in my big towel and put my head between my knees. I prayed he wouldn’t decide to come look for me before I could pull myself together. I could imagine what he would think if he saw me going to pieces this way. It wouldn’t be hard for him to convince himself that we were making a mistake.
   And I wasn’t freaking out because I thought we were making a mistake. Not at all. I was freaking out because I had no idea how to do this, and I was afraid to walk out of this room and face the unknown. Especially in French lingerie. I knew I wasn’t ready for thatyet.
   This felt exactly like having to walk out in front of a theater full of thousands with no idea what my lines were.
   How did people do this—swallow all their fears and trust someone else so implicitly with every imperfection and fear they had—with less than the absolute commitment Edward had given me? If it weren’t Edward out there, if I didn’t know in every cell of my body that he loved me as much as I loved him—unconditionally and irrevocably and, to be honest, irrationally—I’d never be able to get up off this floor.
   But it wasEdward out there, so I whispered the words “Don’t be a coward” under my breath and scrambled to my feet. I hitched the towel tighter under my arms and marched determinedly from the bathroom. Past the suitcase full of lace and the big bed without looking at either. Out the open glass door onto the powder-fine sand.
   Everything was black-and-white, leached colorless by the moon. I walked slowly across the warm powder, pausing beside the curved tree where he had left his clothes. I laid my hand against the rough bark and checked my breathing to make sure it was even. Or even enough.
   I looked across the low ripples, black in the darkness, searching for him.
   He wasn’t hard to find. He stood, his back to me, waist deep in the midnight water, staring up at the oval moon. The pallid light of the moon turned his skin a perfect white, like the sand, like the moon itself, and made his wet hair black as the ocean. He was motionless, his hands resting palms down against the water; the low waves broke around him as if he were a stone. I stared at the smooth lines of his back, his shoulders, his arms, his neck, the flawless shape of him.…
   The fire was no longer a flash burn across my skin—it was slow and deep now; it smoldered away all my awkwardness, my shy uncertainty. I slipped the towel off without hesitation, leaving it on the tree with his clothes, and walked out into the white light; it made me pale as the snowy sand, too.
   I couldn’t hear the sound of my footsteps as I walked to the water’s edge, but I guessed that he could. Edward did not turn. I let the gentle swells break over my toes, and found that he’d been right about the temperature—it was very warm, like bath water. I stepped in, walking carefully across the invisible ocean floor, but my care was unnecessary; the sand continued perfectly smooth, sloping gently toward Edward. I waded through the weightless current till I was at his side, and then I placed my hand lightly over his cool hand lying on the water.
   “Beautiful,” I said, looking up at the moon, too.
   “It’s all right,” he answered, unimpressed. He turned slowly to face me; little waves rolled away from his movement and broke against my skin. His eyes looked silver in his ice-colored face. He twisted his hand up so that he could twine our fingers beneath the surface of the water. It was warm enough that his cool skin did not raise goose bumps on mine.
   “But I wouldn’t use the word beautiful,” he continued. “Not with you standing here in comparison.”
   I half-smiled, then raised my free hand—it didn’t tremble now—and placed it over his heart. White on white; we matched, for once. He shuddered the tiniest bit at my warm touch. His breath came rougher now.
   “I promised we would try,” he whispered, suddenly tense. “If… if I do something wrong, if I hurt you, you must tell me at once.”
   I nodded solemnly, keeping my eyes on his. I took another step through the waves and leaned my head against his chest.
   “Don’t be afraid,” I murmured. “We belong together.”
   I was abruptly overwhelmed by the truth of my own words. This moment was so perfect, so right, there was no way to doubt it.
   His arms wrapped around me, holding me against him, summer and winter. It felt like every nerve ending in my body was a live wire.
   “Forever,” he agreed, and then pulled us gently into deeper water.
   The sun, hot on the bare skin of my back, woke me in the morning. Late morning, maybe afternoon, I wasn’t sure. Everything besides the time was clear, though; I knew exactly where I was—the bright room with the big white bed, brilliant sunlight streaming through the open doors. The clouds of netting would soften the shine.
   I didn’t open my eyes. I was too happy to change anything, no matter how small. The only sounds were the waves outside, our breathing, my heartbeat.…
   I was comfortable, even with the baking sun. His cool skin was the perfect antidote to the heat. Lying across his wintry chest, his arms wound around me, felt very easy and natural. I wondered idly what I’d been so panicky about last night. My fears all seemed silly now.
   His fingers softly trailed down the contours of my spine, and I knew that he knew I was awake. I kept my eyes shut and tightened my arms around his neck, holding myself closer to him.
   He didn’t speak; his fingers moved up and down my back, barely touching it as he lightly traced patterns on my skin.
   I would have been happy to lie here forever, to never disturb this moment, but my body had other ideas. I laughed at my impatient stomach. It seemed sort of prosaic to be hungry after all that had passed last night. Like being brought back down to earth from some great height.
   “What’s funny?” he murmured, still stroking my back. The sound of his voice, serious and husky, brought with it a deluge of memories from the night, and I felt a blush color my face and neck.
   To answer his question, my stomach growled. I laughed again. “You just can’t escape being human for very long.”
   I waited, but he did not laugh with me. Slowly, sinking through the many layers of bliss that clouded my head, came the realization of a different atmosphere outside my own glowing sphere of happiness.
   I opened my eyes; the first thing I saw was the pale, almost silvery skin of his throat, the arc of his chin above my face. His jaw was taut. I propped myself up on my elbow so I could see his face.
   He was staring at the frothy canopy above us, and he didn’t look at me as I studied his grave features. His expression was a shock—it sent a physical jolt through my body.
   “Edward,” I said, a strange little catch in my throat, “what is it? What’s wrong?”
   “You have to ask?” His voice was hard, cynical.
   My first instinct, the product of a lifetime of insecurities, was to wonder what I had done wrong. I thought through everything that had happened, but I couldn’t find any sour note in the memory. It had all been simpler than I’d expected; we’d fit together like corresponding pieces, made to match up. This had given me a secret satisfaction—we were compatible physically, as well as all the other ways. Fire and ice, somehow existing together without destroying each other. More proof that I belonged with him.
   I couldn’t think of any part that would make him look like this—so severe and cold. What had I missed?
   His finger smoothed the worried lines on my forehead.
   “What are you thinking?” he whispered.
   “You’re upset. I don’t understand. Did I… ?” I couldn’t finish.
   His eyes tightened. “How badly are you hurt, Bella? The truth—don’t try to downplay it.”
   “Hurt?” I repeated; my voice came out higher than usual because the word took me so by surprise.
   He raised one eyebrow, his lips a tight line.
   I made a quick assessment, stretching my body automatically, tensing and flexing my muscles. There was stiffness, and a lot of soreness, too, it was true, but mostly there was the odd sensation that my bones all had become unhinged at the joints, and I had changed halfway into the consistency of a jellyfish. It was not an unpleasant feeling.
   And then I was a little angry, because he was darkening this most perfect of all mornings with his pessimistic assumptions.
   “Why would you jump to that conclusion? I’ve never been better than I am now.”
   His eyes closed. “Stop that.”
   “Stop what?”
   “Stop acting like I’m not a monster for having agreed to this.”
   “Edward!” I whispered, really upset now. He was pulling my bright memory through the darkness, staining it. “Don’t ever say that.”
   He didn’t open his eyes; it was like he didn’t want to see me.
   “Look at yourself, Bella. Then tell me I’m not a monster.”
   Wounded, shocked, I followed his instruction unthinkingly and then gasped.
   What had happened to me? I couldn’t make sense of the fluffy white snow that clung to my skin. I shook my head, and a cascade of white drifted out of my hair.
   I pinched one soft white bit between my fingers. It was a piece of down.
   “Why am I covered in feathers?” I asked, confused.
   He exhaled impatiently. “I bit a pillow. Or two. That’s not what I’m talking about.”
   “You… bit a pillow? Why?
   “Look, Bella!” he almost growled. He took my hand—very gingerly—and stretched my arm out. “Look at that.”
   This time, I saw what he meant.
   Under the dusting of feathers, large purplish bruises were beginning to blossom across the pale skin of my arm. My eyes followed the trail they made up to my shoulder, and then down across my ribs. I pulled my hand free to poke at a discoloration on my left forearm, watching it fade where I touched and then reappear. It throbbed a little.
   So lightly that he was barely touching me, Edward placed his hand against the bruises on my arm, one at a time, matching his long fingers to the patterns.
   “Oh,” I said.
   I tried to remember this—to remember pain—but I couldn’t. I couldn’t recall a moment when his hold had been too tight, his hands too hard against me. I only remembered wanting him to hold me tighter, and being pleased when he did.…
   “I’m… so sorry, Bella,” he whispered while I stared at the bruises. “I knew better than this. I should not have—” He made a low, revolted sound in the back of his throat. “I am more sorry than I can tell you.”
   He threw his arm over his face and became perfectly still.
   I sat for one long moment in total astonishment, trying to come to terms—now that I understood it—with his misery. It was so contrary to the way that I felt that it was difficult to process.
   The shock wore off slowly, leaving nothing in its absence. Emptiness. My mind was blank. I couldn’t think of what to say. How could I explain it to him in the right way? How could I make him as happy as I was—or as I hadbeen, a moment ago?
   I touched his arm, and he didn’t respond. I wrapped my fingers around his wrist and tried to pry his arm off his face, but I could have been yanking on a sculpture for all the good it did me.
   “Edward.”
   He didn’t move.
   “Edward?”
   Nothing. So, this would be a monologue, then.
   “ I’mnot sorry, Edward. I’m… I can’t even tell you. I’m sohappy. That doesn’t cover it. Don’t be angry. Don’t. I’m really f—”
   “Do not say the word fine.” His voice was ice cold. “If you value my sanity, do not say that you are fine.”
   “But I am,” I whispered.
   “Bella,” he almost moaned. “Don’t.”
   “No. Youdon’t, Edward.”
   He moved his arm; his gold eyes watched me warily.
   “Don’t ruin this,” I told him. “I. Am. Happy.”
   “I’ve already ruined this,” he whispered.
   “Cut it out,” I snapped.
   I heard his teeth grind together.
   “Ugh!” I groaned. “Why can’t you just read my mind already? It’s so inconvenientto be a mental mute!”
   His eyes widened a little bit, distracted in spite of himself.
   “That’s a new one. You love that I can’t read your mind.”
   “Not today.”
   He stared at me. “Why?”
   I threw my hands up in frustration, feeling an ache in my shoulder that I ignored. My palms fell back against his chest with a sharp smack. “Because all this angst would be completely unnecessary if you could see how I feel right now! Or five minutes ago, anyway. I