The front door opened with its familiar creak, and Bella stepped into the warm, cedar-scented quiet of home. The contrast was jarring—after an evening of impossible revelations and supernatural confessions, the ordinary reality of her father's house felt almost surreal. The worn hardwood floors, the mismatched furniture, the stack of fishing magazines on the coffee table—everything exactly as she'd left it that morning, when the most complicated thing in her life had been whether to wear her blue sweater or her gray one to school.
"Bella? That you, kiddo?"
Charlie's voice drifted from the living room, accompanied by the familiar sounds of ESPN highlights and the rustle of newspaper pages. He sounded relieved, which made something twist uncomfortably in her stomach. How long had she been gone? It felt like days, but a glance at the kitchen clock showed it was barely past nine.
"Yeah, Dad. I'm home." Her voice came out steadier than she'd expected, which was good considering she felt like she was operating in some strange dream state where everything looked normal but followed completely different rules.
"How was dinner? You and Jessica have fun in Port Angeles?"
Bella paused in the hallway, her hand still on the door handle. How was she supposed to answer that? *Oh, it was great, Dad. I learned that vampires are real, that my lab partner is a century-old bloodsucker who wants to drain me dry but is fighting the urge, and that his family includes members with impossible eye colors who apparently have secrets that make vampirism look mundane. Also, did you know vampires sparkle? Because they do. Like craft store glitter.*
"It was good," she said instead, aiming for casual and probably missing by a mile. "Really good, actually."
She caught sight of herself in the hallway mirror as she hung up her jacket, and immediately understood why Charlie had sounded concerned. Her hair was disheveled from the wind during the drive home, her cheeks were flushed pink, and her eyes had a slightly glazed look that suggested she'd either been drinking or had experienced some kind of minor head trauma.
Actually, given what she'd learned tonight, minor head trauma wasn't entirely inaccurate.
"You okay, Bells?" Charlie appeared in the doorway, newspaper still in hand, his weathered face creased with the kind of mild concern that meant he was trying not to be overprotective but failing miserably. "You look a little... I don't know. Overwhelmed?"
"I'm fine," Bella said quickly, running her hands through her hair in an attempt to tame it into something resembling normal. "Just tired. It's been a long day, and we did a lot of walking around Port Angeles."
Charlie nodded, apparently satisfied with this explanation. He'd never been one to pry too deeply into her social life—partly because he respected her privacy, and partly because he was still figuring out how to navigate having a teenage daughter after years of weekend visits and awkward phone calls.
"Well, there's leftover pizza in the fridge if you're hungry. And I recorded that show you like—the one with the crime lab people."
"Thanks, Dad." Bella managed a smile, touched by his efforts to create normalcy for her. "I think I'm just going to head upstairs, though. Maybe take a shower and get some homework done."
"All right. But Bells?" Charlie's voice stopped her at the bottom of the stairs. "Next time you're going to be out this late, maybe give me a call? Just so I know you're okay?"
The concern in his voice made her chest tight with guilt. Here he was, trying to be the perfect balance of caring and non-intrusive, and she was standing there lying to his face about spending the evening with a vampire who'd confessed to wanting to drink her blood.
"Sure, Dad. Sorry. I should have called."
"No harm done. Just... you know. Parent stuff." Charlie's smile was slightly embarrassed, like he wasn't quite sure how to express paternal concern without overstepping boundaries. "Sleep well, kiddo."
Bella was halfway up the stairs when the phone rang, the shrill sound cutting through the quiet house like an alarm. She paused, hand on the banister, listening as Charlie answered with his usual gruff "Swan residence."
"Oh, hi Jessica. Yeah, she just got home. Hang on."
Bella closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before turning around and heading back down to the kitchen. The last thing she wanted right now was to field questions from Jessica about her evening, but she couldn't exactly ignore her friend's call without raising suspicions.
"Hey, Jess," she said, accepting the cordless phone from her father with what she hoped was a casual smile.
"Bella! Oh my God, I've been dying to call you. How was dinner? Did you guys have fun? Because Lauren was in Port Angeles, and she says she saw you getting into Edward Cullen's car in the restaurant parking lot and she immediately called Angela who called me and—"
"Jessica," Bella interrupted, sinking into one of the kitchen chairs and rubbing her temples where a headache was beginning to form. "Breathe."
"Right. Sorry. I'm just so excited! So tell me everything. How was the dinner with Edward? Did you guys talk? Is he as gorgeous up close as he is from across the cafeteria? Because honestly, the boy looks like he should be modeling for Italian Vogue or something."
Bella found herself smiling despite everything. Jessica's enthusiasm was oddly comforting after the intensity of the evening—normal teenage concerns about boys and gossip and whether someone was cute enough to warrant excited phone calls.
"It was... nice," she said finally, which was probably the understatement of the century. "And yes, Edward and I talked."
"You talked! About what? Did he ask you out? Are you going to Prom together? Oh my God, Bella, you have to give me details!"
"Jess, I promise I'll tell you everything tomorrow, okay? But right now I'm exhausted and I need to shower and get some sleep." Bella paused, suddenly remembering something important. "Actually, can you do me a favor? I think I left my jacket in your car. Can you bring it to school tomorrow?"
"Of course! No problem. But Bella, you have to promise me you'll give me all the details tomorrow. I mean all of them. What he said, what you said, whether he held your hand, whether—"
"I promise," Bella said, though she had no idea how she was going to explain any of tonight's conversation without sounding completely insane. "But Jess? Maybe don't mention to anyone else that Edward drove me home, okay? I don't want it to become this whole big thing."
"Oh." Jessica's voice deflated slightly. "Are you embarrassed about it? Because honestly, if Edward Cullen drove me home, I'd be taking out a front-page ad in the school newspaper."
"I'm not embarrassed. I just..." Bella searched for a reasonable explanation that wouldn't involve supernatural creatures or century-old secrets. "I just want to keep things private for now. Until I figure out what's going on."
"Okay, I get it. Keep it mysterious. Very mature of you." Jessica's voice perked up again. "But tomorrow, lunch table, full details. I'm serious."
"Tomorrow," Bella agreed. "Full details."
After she hung up, Bella sat in the kitchen for a moment, staring at the phone and trying to process the surreal contrast between Jessica's excited chatter about boys and dates and the impossible truths Edward had shared with her just hours ago. How was she supposed to go back to caring about normal teenage things when she now knew that vampires were real and one of them was sitting in her biology class every day?
How was she supposed to explain to Jessica that yes, Edward Cullen had driven her home, and yes, they'd talked, but the conversation had involved discussions of superhuman senses, animal hunting, and the various mythological inaccuracies surrounding the undead?
*I'll figure it out tomorrow,* she told herself, pushing up from the table and heading for the stairs. *Tomorrow I'll figure out how to navigate this new reality.*
But even as she climbed the stairs toward her room, she could feel the weight of everything she'd learned settling over her like a heavy blanket. Edward was a vampire. A real, actual vampire who'd been seventeen years old for nearly ninety years, who could read minds and move faster than human eyes could follow, who hunted bears in the Olympic Mountains and sparkled like a disco ball in direct sunlight.
And despite all of that—despite the danger he represented, despite the fundamental impossibility of what he was—she wasn't afraid of him.
If anything, she was more fascinated than ever.
The shower helped, the hot water washing away the residual tension from the evening and giving her something normal to focus on. She shampooed her hair twice, scrubbed her skin until it was pink, and stood under the spray until the water began to cool, letting the familiar routine ground her in something approaching normalcy.
But even as she went through the motions of her nightly routine—brushing her teeth, combing out her wet hair, pulling on her favorite pajamas—her mind kept circling back to Edward. To the careful way he'd spoken, the vulnerability in his golden eyes when he'd confessed his feelings, the gentle touch of his impossibly cool hand against hers.
By the time she climbed into bed, pulling her worn quilt up to her chin, Bella felt like she was existing in some strange liminal space between sleep and waking, between reality and dream. The events of the evening played through her mind on repeat—Edward's confession, his warnings, the way he'd looked at her like she was something precious and fragile that he was afraid of breaking.
She was drifting, consciousness beginning to blur at the edges, when three certainties crystallized in her mind with perfect clarity:
Edward Cullen was a vampire.
He wanted her blood.
And she was absolutely, completely, irrevocably in love with him.
The realization should have terrified her. Should have sent her scrambling for her phone to call her mother, or her father, or someone—anyone—who could help her make sense of what was happening to her.
Instead, she found herself smiling into her pillow, warmth spreading through her chest like honey. Even knowing what he was, even understanding the danger he represented, even fully aware that falling in love with a vampire was probably the worst possible decision she could make—she couldn't bring herself to regret it.
Edward Cullen was extraordinary, impossible, dangerous, and wonderful.
And tomorrow, she'd get to see him again.
With that thought warming her like a secret, Bella finally let herself fall asleep.
---
The silver Volvo pulled into the circular driveway of the Cullen house at precisely 10:47 PM, its headlights sweeping across the modern glass and cedar structure that had been home for the past three years. Edward turned off the engine and sat for a moment in the sudden silence, his hands still gripping the steering wheel as he tried to process everything that had happened tonight.
Bella knew.
She knew what he was, what his family was, what he was capable of—and she wasn't afraid. More than that, she'd looked at him with something approaching wonder, like he was a puzzle she was excited to solve rather than a monster she needed to escape from.
The memory of her hand touching his, warm and soft and utterly trusting, made something twist in his chest. For nearly nine decades, he'd convinced himself that he was fundamentally unworthy of that kind of trust, that his nature made him too dangerous for genuine human connection. But Bella had sat in his car and listened to him confess to being a predator, and her only concern had been whether she was making him uncomfortable.
It was impossible. It was terrifying. It was the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to him.
Edward climbed from the car and walked toward the house, very aware that his enhanced hearing was picking up multiple conversations from within. His family was waiting for him—all of them, judging by the various voices. Which wasn't entirely surprising, considering they'd all known he was taking Bella to dinner tonight and would be curious about how it had gone.
What was surprising was that he could also hear Hadrian and Daenerys among the voices, their distinctive tones mixing with the familiar chatter of his siblings. They'd returned from Port Angeles ahead of him, then, which meant they'd completed whatever business had taken them there in the first place.
Edward pushed open the front door and stepped into the warm, cedar-scented interior of home. The main living area was spread out before him—all soaring ceilings and floor-to-ceiling windows that offered views of the forest beyond. During the day, the space was filled with natural light that would have revealed the supernatural nature of its inhabitants to any human visitors. At night, like now, it felt warm and welcoming, a haven for their makeshift family of monsters trying to be better than their nature.
Eight figures were arranged throughout the space with the kind of casual elegance that came naturally to their kind. Emmett was sprawled across one of the leather couches, his massive frame somehow managing to look relaxed despite the supernatural tension that always thrummed beneath his surface. Rosalie sat beside him, her golden hair catching the lamplight as she filed her nails with the kind of precise attention that suggested she was using the activity to avoid looking directly at Edward.
Jasper occupied the chair nearest the window, his scarred hands resting loosely in his lap, his strange golden eyes already tracking Edward's emotional state with the skill of someone who'd spent decades learning to read the feelings of others. Alice was perched on the arm of his chair, her pixie features bright with excitement and something that looked suspiciously like mischief.
Katherine and Elizabeth sat together on the smaller couch, Katherine's dark hair falling like a curtain around her face as she leaned into Elizabeth's shoulder. Even from across the room, Edward could see the slight smile playing at the corners of Katherine's mouth, the expression made somehow more intriguing by the faint Scottish brogue that colored her voice when she spoke. Elizabeth's blonde hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail, and she was absently stroking Katherine's arm with the kind of casual intimacy that spoke of decades of companionship.
And there, standing near the massive stone fireplace with the kind of presence that immediately drew the eye, were Hadrian and Daenerys.
Hadrian looked exactly as he had that morning—impossibly tall and elegant, his black hair falling across his forehead in a way that suggested he'd run his hands through it recently. His emerald eyes found Edward's immediately, and there was something in his expression that Edward couldn't quite read. Not disapproval, exactly, but a kind of careful assessment that made him feel like he was being weighed and measured.
Daenerys stood beside him, her silver-gold hair braided over one shoulder, her violet eyes bright with what looked like satisfaction. She was wearing dark jeans and a cream-colored sweater that somehow managed to look both casual and elegant, and there was something about her posture that suggested things had gone well in Port Angeles.
Very well, if the faint scent of smoke and ash that clung to both of them was any indication.
"Edward," Carlisle's warm voice drew his attention to where his father stood near the piano, Esme beside him with her arm linked through his. Both of them looked concerned but not surprised—they'd known this conversation was coming, had probably been preparing themselves for whatever revelations Edward might bring home. "How did it go?"
Edward closed the door behind him and walked further into the room, very aware that all eyes were on him. This was the moment he'd been dreading since he'd first realized Bella was beginning to piece together the truth—having to explain to his family that he'd revealed their greatest secret to a human girl, and that she'd accepted it with a calmness that defied all rational expectation.
"She knows," he said simply, the words falling into the sudden silence like stones into still water.
The reaction was immediate and varied. Alice clapped her hands together with delight, her face lighting up like she'd just been given the perfect birthday present. Jasper tensed slightly, his scarred hands tightening in his lap as he assessed the emotional implications. Emmett let out a low whistle that might have been appreciation or concern.
Rosalie, predictably, looked furious.
"You told her?" she asked, her voice sharp with the kind of controlled anger that had made her legendary among their kind. "Edward, what were you thinking? Do you have any idea what kind of danger you've put us all in?"
"She figured it out herself," Edward said quietly, meeting Rosalie's glare without flinching. "I just... confirmed her suspicions."
"Oh, well, that makes it so much better," Rosalie snapped, rising from the couch with the fluid grace of a predator preparing to strike. "Because humans who figure out vampire secrets on their own are so much more trustworthy than humans who are told directly."
"Rose," Emmett's voice carried a warning, but his mate was already pacing across the hardwood floor with restless energy.
"No, Emmett. This is exactly what I was afraid would happen." Rosalie turned back to Edward, her golden eyes blazing with frustration. "You get obsessed with some random human girl, and suddenly our entire family's safety becomes secondary to your teenage angst."
"It's not like that," Edward started, but Rosalie cut him off with a sharp gesture.
"Isn't it? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks exactly like that. You've known this girl for what, a few weeks? And already you're willing to risk everything we've built here for the chance to play Romeo and Juliet with someone who could destroy us all with a single phone call?"
The accusation hung in the air between them, sharp and cutting. Edward felt his jaw tighten, his hands clenching at his sides as he fought the urge to respond with equal anger. Rosalie wasn't entirely wrong—he had risked their safety tonight, had revealed secrets that could indeed destroy everything they'd built in Forks.
But she was also missing the most important point.
"She won't hurt us," he said quietly, his voice carrying absolute conviction. "Bella isn't like that. She's not going to call anyone, or try to expose us, or—"
"You don't know that," Rosalie interrupted, her voice rising slightly. "You can't know that. Humans are unpredictable, Edward. They get scared, they panic, they make stupid decisions that put everyone around them in danger. And this girl—this Bella—she's already proven she makes poor choices just by getting involved with you in the first place."
"That's enough." Hadrian's voice cut through the argument like a blade, quiet but carrying the kind of authority that made everyone in the room immediately fall silent. He hadn't moved from his position by the fireplace, but there was something in his posture now that commanded attention. "Rosalie, sit down."
Rosalie's eyes flashed with rebellion for a moment, but something in Hadrian's expression made her sink back onto the couch beside Emmett without further protest. Edward had seen this dynamic before—the way even the strongest members of their family deferred to Hadrian when he chose to assert his authority. There was something about him that inspired obedience even from those who didn't fully understand why.
"Edward," Hadrian continued, his emerald eyes fixing on his brother with careful intensity. "Tell us exactly what happened tonight. All of it."
Edward took a breath he didn't need, organizing his thoughts. "We went to dinner at La Bella Italia. Bella was... she'd been researching vampires. She'd talked to Jacob Black, heard the Quileute legends about our family. She'd done internet research, trying to find patterns that matched what she'd observed about us."
"And?" Daenerys prompted, her violet eyes bright with interest rather than concern.
"And she told me she'd figured out what I was, but that it didn't matter to her. That it didn't change how she felt." Edward's voice grew softer as he recalled Bella's words, the absolute certainty in her voice when she'd said she wasn't afraid of him. "She was more worried about upsetting me than about her own safety."
Alice made a soft sound that might have been sympathy or delight. "Oh, Edward. She really does love you, doesn't she?"
"Alice," Jasper murmured, but there was no real censure in his voice. His empathic abilities had probably been picking up on Edward's emotional state all evening—the wonder, the terror, the impossible hope that had been building since Bella had taken his hand in the car.
"She does," Edward admitted quietly, the words feeling strange and precious on his tongue. "And I... I love her too."
The admission sent ripples of various emotions through the room. Alice bounced slightly in her seat, her pixie features bright with excitement. Emmett grinned and shook his head like he'd just witnessed something simultaneously inevitable and absurd. Carlisle and Esme exchanged a look that spoke of decades of partnership and understanding.
Katherine and Elizabeth shifted closer together on their couch, and Edward caught Katherine murmuring something in Elizabeth's ear that sounded distinctly Scottish and probably amused.
Rosalie's expression, meanwhile, had shifted from anger to something that looked almost like pity.
"Edward," she said, her voice gentler now but no less serious. "You can't possibly think this will end well. She's human. She's seventeen years old. She has no idea what she's getting herself into."
"Maybe not," Edward agreed. "But she's not naive, Rose. She understood the danger. I told her exactly what I was capable of, what kind of threat I represented, and she chose to trust me anyway."
"For now," Rosalie said quietly. "But what happens when the novelty wears off? What happens when she realizes that dating a vampire means giving up any chance at a normal life? What happens when she wants things you can't give her—marriage, children, growing old together?"
The questions hit like physical blows, each one highlighting aspects of his relationship with Bella that Edward had been trying not to think about. Rosalie was right, of course. He couldn't offer Bella a normal life, couldn't give her the human experiences she deserved. Every moment she spent with him was a moment stolen from the ordinary teenage existence she should be enjoying.
But before he could respond, Daenerys spoke up from her position by the fireplace.
"Perhaps," she said, her voice carrying the slight musical accent that Edward had never been able to identify, "we should ask ourselves whether Bella wants a normal life."
All eyes turned to her, and she continued with that same thoughtful tone that suggested she'd been considering this question for some time.
"From what I've observed, Bella Swan is not a typical seventeen-year-old girl. She moved across the country to live with a father she barely knows, in a town where she had no friends and no connections, simply because she thought it would make her mother happy. She's intelligent, observant, and apparently brave enough to calmly discuss vampirism over a drive." Daenerys's violet eyes found Edward's. "Does that sound like someone who's particularly invested in conventional normalcy?"
"That's not the point," Rosalie protested, but Daenerys held up a hand.
"Isn't it? We're all sitting here debating what's best for Bella, what she can and cannot handle, what she does and doesn't deserve. But none of us have actually asked her what she wants." Daenerys's smile was small but knowing. "Perhaps we should give her credit for being capable of making her own choices."
"Even if those choices are dangerous?" Rosalie asked.
"Especially if those choices are dangerous," Hadrian said quietly, speaking for the first time since he'd commanded silence. "The most worthwhile things in life usually are."
Edward found himself studying his adoptive siblings with new interest. There was something in their expressions—a kind of understanding that went beyond simple empathy. Like they were viewing his situation through the lens of their own experiences, their own choices to embrace dangerous relationships despite the risks involved.
"Speaking of choices," Edward said, turning to face Hadrian and Daenerys more fully. "Thank you. For what you did tonight in Port Angeles."
Both of them went very still at his words, and Edward became aware that the rest of the family was watching this exchange with the kind of careful attention that suggested they knew exactly what he was referring to.
"What happened in Port Angeles?" Carlisle asked, his voice carrying the careful neutrality of someone who suspected he didn't want to know the answer.
Edward looked to Hadrian and Daenerys, silently asking permission to share the details. After a moment, Hadrian nodded slightly.
"Bella was in danger," Edward said simply. "A group of men were following her, intending to... hurt her. They cornered her in an alley, and if Hadrian and Daenerys hadn't intervened..." He let the sentence hang, unable to finish it.
"Intervened how?" Rosalie asked, though her tone suggested she already suspected the answer.
"We handled it," Daenerys said smoothly, her voice carrying no emotion at all. "The men will not be bothering anyone again."
The euphemism was clear enough. Edward had caught the scent of ash and smoke on them when he'd entered the house, had seen the subtle signs of recent violence in their carefully controlled postures. Hadrian and Daenerys had done what needed to be done to protect Bella, and they'd made sure there would be no evidence left behind to cause problems later.
"Jesus," Emmett muttered, running a hand through his dark curls. "How many?"
"Four," Hadrian replied calmly. "They had a van. They were planning to take her somewhere private."
The room fell silent at that, the implications hanging heavy in the air. Everyone understood what would have happened to Bella if those men had succeeded in their plans. Everyone understood that Hadrian and Daenerys had potentially saved her life tonight, along with Edward's sanity.
"Thank you," Carlisle said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. "Both of you."
"No need for thanks," Daenerys replied, her violet eyes soft. "Bella is important to Edward, which makes her important to us. Family protects family."
The simple declaration sent warmth spreading through Edward's chest. For all their secrets, for all the mysteries that surrounded Hadrian and Daenerys, they considered him family. They'd risked exposure, had taken lives, to protect someone who mattered to him.
"Still," Alice said, bouncing slightly in her seat, "this is so exciting! Edward finally found someone who makes him happy, and she's brave enough to handle the truth about what we are. It's like something out of a fairy tale!"
"Fairy tales," Katherine observed in her light Scottish brogue, finally speaking up from her position beside Elizabeth, "usually end with everyone living happily ever after. Real life tends to be more... complicated."
"Especially," Elizabeth added, her own accent coloring the words, "when vampires are involved."
There was something in their tone that suggested personal experience with such complications, though Edward didn't push for details. Katherine and Elizabeth had their own secrets, their own story of how they'd found each other and chosen to build a life together despite the obstacles their nature presented. If they wanted to share those details, they would do so in their own time.
"What happens now?" Jasper asked, his scarred hands still resting loosely in his lap. His empathic abilities had probably been tracking the emotional undercurrents in the room all evening, and Edward wondered what he was sensing from each of them.
"Now," Edward said, feeling some of the tension in his shoulders begin to ease, "I go to school tomorrow and try to figure out how to navigate a relationship with someone who knows exactly what I am."
"And if she changes her mind?" Rosalie asked, though her voice was gentler now. "If she decides it's too much, or too dangerous, or just too weird?"
Edward was quiet for a moment, considering the question. The possibility that Bella might wake up tomorrow and decide she'd made a terrible mistake was one that had been haunting him since he'd dropped her off at home. But remembering the certainty in her voice when she'd said he wasn't getting rid of her easily, the warmth in her brown eyes when she'd smiled at him...
"Then I'll respect her decision," he said finally. "But I don't think she will. Bella isn't the type to run from things that scare her. If anything, she runs toward them."
"Which should probably concern us more than it does," Emmett pointed out with a grin. "But hell, I like a girl with poor survival instincts. Makes things interesting."
"Emmett," Esme chided, but there was affection in her voice. "Be nice."
"I am being nice! I'm saying the girl has guts. That's a compliment."
"Your compliments," Rosalie informed her mate dryly, "need work."
Edward found himself smiling despite the lingering tension in the room. This was what he'd missed during his years of self-imposed isolation—the warmth of family, the gentle teasing and support that came with being surrounded by people who loved him despite his flaws.
"One more thing," he said, turning back to Hadrian and Daenerys. "Bella asked about you two tonight. About your eyes, specifically. She noticed they're different from the rest of ours."
Hadrian and Daenerys exchanged a look that spoke of some silent communication, though Edward's mind-reading abilities couldn't penetrate whatever private conversation they were having. After a moment, Daenerys smiled.
"She's very observant," she said approvingly. "Most humans don't notice details like that."
"She's not most humans," Edward replied. "She wants to know what makes you different. What makes you more special than the rest of us."
"More special?" Alice perked up with interest. "What did you tell her?"
"That it was their secret to share, not mine." Edward looked between Hadrian and Daenerys, noting the way they stood close together, the way they seemed to communicate without words. "But she's going to ask you directly, probably soon. She's not the type to let mysteries go unsolved."
"Good," Hadrian said simply. "We look forward to the conversation."
There was something in his tone that suggested he meant it, that he was genuinely pleased by the prospect of having that discussion with Bella. Which was... interesting, considering how carefully they usually guarded their secrets.
"Well," Carlisle said, clapping his hands together with the air of someone bringing a family meeting to a close. "I think we've covered the important points for tonight. Edward, I'm proud of you for handling this with such maturity. And I'm grateful to all of you for supporting him through what I'm sure was a difficult evening."
"Are we good?" Edward asked, looking around the room at his family. "With Bella knowing, I mean. With me... pursuing this relationship despite the risks?"
"We're good," Esme said warmly, crossing the room to pull him into one of her maternal embraces. "We just want you to be happy, sweetheart. If Bella makes you happy, then we'll find a way to make it work."
"Even you, Rose?" Edward asked, meeting his sister's golden eyes across the room.
Rosalie was quiet for a long moment, her expression cycling through emotions Edward couldn't quite identify. Finally, she sighed.
"I still think you're both idiots," she said bluntly. "And I still think this is going to end badly for everyone involved. But..." She paused, her voice growing softer. "I also think you deserve to be happy. And if this human girl can look at you and see something worth loving instead of something to fear, then maybe she's stronger than I'm giving her credit for."
It wasn't exactly an enthusiastic endorsement, but coming from Rosalie, it was practically a blessing. Edward felt the last of the tension leave his shoulders, replaced by something that might have been hope.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "All of you."
"Just promise us one thing," Alice said, bouncing up from her perch on Jasper's chair. "Promise you'll bring her around soon so we can properly meet her. I have so many questions, and I want to see if my visions of her become any clearer now that she knows the truth."
"I'll ask her," Edward promised. "Though I should probably warn you that she's going to want to ask Hadrian and Daenerys about their eye colors."
"Among other things," Daenerys said with a mysterious smile. "But that's a conversation for another day."
With that cryptic comment hanging in the air, the family began to disperse—Emmett and Rosalie heading upstairs to their room, Katherine and Elizabeth disappearing toward the library, Carlisle and Esme retreating to their study to give the younger generation space to process the evening's revelations.
Edward found himself alone in the living room with Alice, Jasper, Hadrian, and Daenerys—the siblings who'd been with him the longest, who understood better than anyone what tonight's confessions had cost him.
"So," Alice said, settling back into her chair with obvious delight. "Tell us about dinner. What did she order? What did you talk about? Did you hold hands? Was it romantic?"
"Alice," Jasper warned, but Edward could hear the amusement in his voice.
"What? I'm just curious! Our brother finally goes on his first real date in ninety years, and I want details."
"It wasn't exactly a date," Edward protested, but even as he said it, he could feel heat rising in his cheeks. "It was more like... a confession. On both sides."
"A confession that happened over dinner at a romantic Italian restaurant," Alice pointed out. "Sounds like a date to me."
"She ordered mushroom ravioli," Edward said finally, giving in to Alice's obvious determination to extract details. "And she asked me about everything—my age, my abilities, my family. She wanted to understand what she was getting herself into."
"And?" Daenerys prompted, her violet eyes bright with interest.
"And she decided she didn't care. That whatever I was, whatever risks came with being around me, it was worth it to her." Edward's voice grew softer, wonder creeping in despite his best efforts to remain composed. "She said her only concern was making me happy."
Alice made a soft sound that was pure delight. "Oh, Edward. She really is perfect for you, isn't she?"
"I think so," Edward admitted quietly. "Which terrifies me."
"Good," Hadrian said, speaking up from his position by the fireplace. "Terror keeps you careful. Careful keeps her safe."
"Is that the voice of experience?" Edward asked, noting the way Hadrian and Daenerys exchanged another one of their meaningful looks.
"Perhaps," Daenerys replied with that mysterious smile that never quite revealed what she was thinking. "But that's a story for another time."
---
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