Rating: M

Genre: Angst/Romance

Word Count: 6782

Pairing: E/B

Road Maps

Summary: Sometimes the roads we take on our journey through life lead us to things we never thought were possible. Detours and bumps only enhance the experience as we struggle to arrive at our destination.

Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

Road Maps

I'd driven this road more times than I could count, and for the first time, I wished I was on any road that wasn't the four-forty-one. My car was towing a U-Haul, full of my few belongings and four years of memories collected as an undergrad at theUniversity of Georgia, including pictures of the fraternity formals and mixers I had attended in what little spare time I had. The Veterinary Medicine program was one of the best in the country, and now, I just had to pass my boards to put those coveted DVM letters behind my name.

My parents had insisted I go through sorority rush since I was a legacy. Mom had many wonderful memories of being a part of a group of women, and surprisingly, I enjoyed the immediate connections I'd made, as well. When I left Milledgeville, I had also left behind my life. Most of my friends didn't have the means to attend school away from home, and I had to make a decision. I had to choose between the people and the life I loved or reaching the goals I'd set for myself. Maybe it sounds melodramatic, but Edward made it clear: if I left, it was over. It hurt, but I would have resented him the rest of my life had I given up my dreams. So I packed my car and drove away, watching life as I knew it disappear in the rear view mirror.

Passing by Lake Sinclair, I was overtaken by so many wonderful memories. I'd grown up on the shores of this lake, hunting, fishing, skiing, and partying, just all around hell raising. It had been years—four years to be exact—since I'd hung out on that lake with my friends. Sure I'd come home a few times, but usually Momma and Daddy came to me, or I'd stay home, and a few close friends would come to me.

Pulling into town, I noted the many changes that had occurred in my absence. Milledgeville was Georgia's Antebellum Capital and actual Capital for about sixtyyears. You could feel the history emanating from every building, every nook, every cranny of this little town. What once was a booming town was now a town in distress, the only industries being healthcare, tourism and apparently-with all the new buildings sites I was seeing—construction.

Approaching the intersection at W. Hancock, where I needed to turn off to get to Momma and Daddy's, I noticed a new shopping center being constructed. I thought the location might be perfect to open an office, so I turned in, only planning to whip through quickly, to see whether there was a number to call for leasing information.

As I pulled in, I felt a little anxious for a moment. I looked around, trying to find the sources of the uneasiness. Then, I saw him, and holy fucking hell—I don't know what I was expecting when I finally saw him again, but it certainly wasn't this man standing there talking to several other workers. The telltale hair peeking out from under the white, construction helmet told me it was definitely him. The tight white t-shirt showed muscles that weren't there the last time I saw him, and the jeans that hugged his ass perfectly made the tan work-boots at the end of the long legs hugged in denim look sinful.

Damn he looked good.

I hadn't let myself listen to too much about him, but I had heard he was working construction, going to school, and running shine. I'd guessed he managed to stay out of jail because it would have been all over the news had he ever been arrested. Local-boy-makes-good stories always got play, and with the way Edward was pursued nationally, it was big news all over Georgia at the time. And because of the way he'd embarrassed Richt and the University, he was all over ESPN for months after signing day. Four years later, God himself could promise them the ever-elusive crystal football if they brought Edward Cullen onboard, and all they'd ever give him were the directions to hell.

Edward waltzed into the media room at school ten minutes after he was supposed to be there. I was worried and surprised. Edward had been so excited over being able to play for Georgia, being late was not something anyone would have expected. He and Carlisle had been in Atlanta for the last month. I'd spoken to him, but not seen him since he'd been back. I knew there was something wrong, but he insisted he was fine. He finally came in, looking every bit the bad-boy with a new tattoo gracing his shoulder, peeking out from the sleeveless, plaid flannel, tonguing a new silver hoop that was looping over the center of his bottom lip. Everyone's jaws were gapping when he picked up the contract, tore it in half, and walked out.

Edward was the consummate bad boy of Milledgeville. His kin had been in Baldwin County long before there was a city, and they had all been law-breakers, running shine and raising hell. They had the nicest house on the lake and the nicest one in town. His dad had broken the mold and gone to college and med school, coming home to head up the Psych Hospital.

Carlisle, hell the whole town, had ambitious dreams for his son. Edward was one of the smartest guys in school, taking AP classes all four years in high school and graduating Valedictorian. He was also the starting QB, making him the most sought after boy in town. He was a catch, a triple threat: good looking, smart and athletic. The boy had academic and athletic scholarship offers to both Ivy League and top SEC football schools. Yet, deep down, he was just a good ole boy, content to hang out with friends and have a fantastictime. I had my sights set on UGA's College of Veterinary Medicine in Athens, and his plan was to join me, or so I thought.

Growing up in Georgia meant there were only two college choices: UGA or Tech, and only traitors went to Tech. Okay, not really, but that's what I grew up believing. Daddy majored in political science and attended law school at Georgia, so I was born with my blood running red and black. The picture of me from the day I came home from the hospital didn't feature me in pink or cute girly prints. No, my parents dressed me head to toe in red and black, tiny bulldogs peppering the fabric, the ever- recognizableG gracing the top.

Mark Richt, UGA's head coach, personally took on the recruiting efforts for Edward. They wanted him, bad, and they got him, or so they thought. Matthew Stafford ended up keeping the starting QB job—and landing me for a while, as well.

I never got much of an explanation from Edward, only that he felt like a fraud and that he wanted to take it back to his roots. When he all but demanded I stay with him, give up my dreams, I turned and walked away, tears pouring down my cheeks.

As I sat there staring at the man before me, remembering the good and no-so-good times, his head snapped up. I knew he couldn't tell who was in the car, but I quickly put it back in drive and pulled out of the parking lot.

I wasn't ready to face him, yet.

After pulling out, I called Rose, my connection to the past, my best friend for as long as I could remember.

EPOV

As I was standing there, chatting with the crew before letting them go for the day, I felt it—that unmistakable static in the air.

My head popped up to see a little red car just before it pulled out on to W. Hancock. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Bella was home. She'd—we'd- always planned to come home, back to Milledgeville, after graduation, but I didn't know if that was still part of her dream, since I no longer was.

Bella had been the love of my life. Hell, who was I kidding? Bella would always be the love of my life.

I was standing in the parking lot of the high school the first day of freshman year, waiting on Tyler and Mike, when she climbed out of her mom's car. I'd known Bella Swan my whole life, both a benefit and disadvantage of growing up in a small town. Whether it was at a bon-fire on the lake or at the football games, Bella was there, blending into the crowd. But that day was the first time I'd really noticed how beautiful she was.

Apparently, I wasn't the only one to notice either.

"Damn, did you see Swan?" Mike asked as he approached, Tyler following behind him, nodding furiously.

"What?" I asked as if I hadn't been standing there drooling over how good her ass looked in those jeans.

"I'm not sure what the Swans did on vacation this summer, but I vote we send some of these other girls," Tyler chimed in.

An unfamiliar feeling crept up, making it hard for me to breathe. It wasn't as if I hadn't noticed girls before. We had all spent the last couple of summers talking about whose boobs had grown more, who needed to wear a one-piece suit, and who we thought we might be able to talk out of their panties. Of course, these were cocky fantasies of stupid little boys just experiencing wet dreams for the first time.

The reaction I had when I saw her that day was real; it was visceral, and it scared the shit out of me.

Trying to play it cool, I said, "Yeah, she's not looking too shabby, but I'm sure Tanya's boob got even bigger this summer."

Both of them nodded like idiots, big grins on their faces. Tanya had developed earlier than any of the other girls and had been the star of the masturbationfantasies of every teen boy in town.

As the school year progressed, we all began to hang out more outside of school. Bon-fires at the lake were ours now, not our parents, and the booze we stole from their liquor cabinets took the place of coolers full of cokes.

We were young, rebellious, and having the time of our lives.

I was the first to get my own car, even though all I had was a provisional license. It was 1969 candy-apple red Skylark convertible with a four-fifty-five four barrel under the hood. Dad had been rebuilding the damn thingfor years, and I didn't think I'd ever get to sit in the thing, so when he handed me the keys that morning, I think I came in my pants.

With the new car came a new image. Gone were the Polo's and khaki's. Jeans, holes strategically placed, and flannel took over my wardrobe, and a cigarette constantly hung off my lip. I had cousins who still ran the still that had been in my family long before Milledgeville was a town, so I don't think anyone was surprised when I showed up with a Masen jar filled with liquid fire the first time.

It was that night that changed my life.

Ben Cheney was new to town, and of course new blood got attention. All of the girls were fawning over him, offering to bring him a beer from the keg that sat off to the side of the bon-fire on the banks of Lake Sinclair.

We all knew that the attention wouldn't last long, so we let him bask in the attention as we welcomed him into our circle. But when Bella grabbed his cup that night to fill it up, jealousy took over. Up until that point, I hadn't done anything but stare at her when no one was looking, but I didn't want Ben I walked up to her as she filled the red cup.

"So, is that what you're into, Swan? The clean-cut mama's boy type?"

She shrugged. "HE seems to be interested in me."

I definitely noticed the emphasis on 'he', so I pushed for more. "Is there someone else you'd prefer show you interest?"

She shrugged again, nervously shuffling her feet. "I thought someone was interested, but I can't wait around for him forever." She looked up at me through her lashes, and I knew-she wanted me.

So I did what any gentleman would do. I took Ben's beer cup and walked over to Tanya. She smiled, but it faltered when I said, "Here. Take this to the new guy."

Bella was standing there, staring at me, her mouth hanging open. I sauntered back, looking cocky and cool but feeling anything but. This was it. I didn't think she'd shoot me down, not with the way she was looking at me, but there was a chance she could—and in front of everyone. I decided if I was going to do this, I was going big.

When I reached her, I said, "Lose the new guy. I'm interested." Then I pulled her to me and kissed her, and just like I'd hoped, she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me back.

The sound of raucous laughter and rhythmic drumbeats broke through the eerie silence just before the orange and yellow hues licking the sky came into view through the trees. My nerves took over, and my stomach felt as if I had a herd of elephants running through it. I knew he would be there, and I was already regretting my promise to Rose to meet her here tonight.

I finally saw Rose sitting on a tailgate next to a big burly guy. She'd told me she'd met someone, and I wasn't surprised. She'd been popular all of our lives. Rose looked like your typical southern sorority girl—beautiful, always dressed to the nines, looking to impress, and a little snobby. The truth was that Rose grew up hunting, fishing, and partying just like I did. She was equally comfortable in cut-off jeans and tanks as she was in the skirts and blouses.

Instead of the frat-boy I'd expected, there was this man decked out in ripped jeans and sleeveless flannel, his arms decorated with full sleeves. His face was covered in two-day old stubble, and he was sporting a backwards baseball cap—just damn. Rose never failed to surprise me, but she was just a good ole girl at heart—we all were.

"Hey, bitch!" I was brought out of my musings as her voice broke through the bedlam surrounding us.

Smiling, I hollered back, "Hey, yourself, bitch."

Rose hopped off the tailgate and enveloped me in a hug, whispering in my ear. "So what do you think of Emmett?"

Hugging her hard in return, I whispered back, "Dayum, woman. He's fucking fine, bitch. Up for sharing?"

A boisterous laugh, not fitting her looks but unmistakably Rose, left her lips as she released me from our hug, promptly slapping my ass. "Get your own man. What happened to old Matty, anyway?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

Rolling my eyes and shaking my head, I answered sarcastically. "Detroit up and stole him from me. I just couldn't compete."

Emmett cleared his throat, reminding us of his fine ass sitting on the tailgate.

Rose turned, a smile spread across her lips, and winked at him. "Emmett, this is my best friend since birth, Bella. Bella, this is Emmett McCarty."

"So, who's Matty?" The deep timbre of his voice contrasted with the playful way he said it. I noticed the Masen jar in his hand, half-full of clear liquid.

Laughing loudly and holding out my hand for the jar, I said, "Oh, just the QB from school, no one important." I tried to brush him off and took a hit off the jar, shuddering as the burn hit my throat and made its way down.

He raised his eyebrows, impressed with the sizable gulp I'd taken. I passed the jar back to him and smiled.

"Where did you go to school?" he asked, but the tone of the question told me he knew exactly where I went and who I was talking about.

"Oh, you know," I stammered a little. Telling someone, I dated a number one draft pick, however briefly, always embarrassed me. I mean, Matt was a likeable enough guy, sortacute, but we'd only dated for a few months my freshman year before he was snapped up by Detroit, and besides, my heart was never in it anyway. It always would belong to the young boy I left behind.

Alice, my roommate, had refused to allow me to wallow over what she called an immature high school romance and basically shoved Matt down my throat. She swore the best way to get over someone was to get under someone else. She was wrong; Matt didn't help me get over Edward. I wasn't sure I ever would be over him, but Matt and I did have fun, and I ended up with a cool story.

"She went to Georgia, like you didn't already know that," Rose said, and Emmett grimaced.

I looked at them, puzzled. "What, Rose?"

"I always forget Emmett didn't grow up here and doesn't know all the players in the game of small town phone hell." He chuckled at her description while she continued. "He works for Edward." Her voice was soft.

"Works for Edward? Doing what? Running this shit?" I pointed to the moonshine in Emmett's hand.

"Well, he does do the occasional run for him since Edward's busy with Cullen Construction, but Edward's company is keeping them both busy, so I think they do it just for fun now, right, Em?"

"Yeah, the adrenaline rush is pretty damn cool."

My head whipped in Rose's direction, my raised eyebrows, asking her to elaborate. She shook her head and mouthed, 'later,' so I decided to change the subject before someone inevitably went on to reveal too much gossip.

"So where do you hail from, Emmett?"

"I came down for Georgia College and State from Chattanooga," he said as if it was the most natural thing in the world for anyone outside of locals to come Milledgeville for school.

"You came to Milledgeville willingly?" I laughed. I loved every minute of growing up here, but I couldn't imagine what it would look like to outsiders; although, Chattanooga wasn't necessarily a hotbed of happening either.

"Sure, I did. It's not too far from home, and they have an athletic training degree. What's not to love? The beautiful lake, beautiful ladies," he looked Rose up and down before something else caught his attention, "and a little extra money running shine." He was looking behind me, smiling as he added that last part.

Before I could turn around to see who Emmett was looking at, I heard his voice. The rich, smooth tone was a little deeper than it was the last time I spoke with him, but that just made it sound that much sexier.

"Hey, Em. Hey, Rose. Who's your friend?" he asked.

I froze in my spot.

I'd heard a lot of things about him over the last four years, but I hadn't actually seen him before my brief glimpse at the construction site. I had been the master avoider, and it didn't help that Momma and Daddy would just as soon visit Athens that have me come home.

Rose and Emmett spoke up at the same time.

"Edward, I believe you remember Bella."

"Dude, this is Rose's friend Bella. She dated Matthew Fucking Stafford, dude."

I grimaced; apparently, Emmett was impressed with this revelation, but the man behind me wouldn't be. I slowly turned around, wishing the ground would swallow me whole before I had to look into his eyes.

"Bella," he almost whispered, his eyes betraying the tough guy persona standing in front of me.

He looked good.

No.

Good is not the word for what he looked like.

I was sure my panties disintegrated the moment I looked at him. He was standing in front of me, looking like pure sin, and I was all for signing up for that ride to hell.

He had on a blue Henley, sleeves cut off with small holes peppered along the neck, and it hugged his much-larger-than-I-remembered chest, showing off the obvious lines of what was at least a six-pack. His ripped jeans were low hanging, yet fit perfectly. So many things stood out about him. There was a man before me where I left a boy behind. The tattoo on his shoulder had taken over his entire arm—almost every square inch of skin covered in black ink with the occasional spot of color. His chin and the skin above his lip were covered with what was more than two-day old stubble but less than a full a beard, and he was also sporting his ball cap backwards. He was all man—rough and rugged—and the distant view I'd had when I saw him in town did not do him justice.

I couldn't take my eyes off of him, and made no secret of the fact I was checking him out. He was my first love, the first man to touch me, the first everything. There was a time I knew his body better than he did, and he definitely knew how to play mine like a fiddle. The boy had skills, and I couldn't help but wonder if the man before had perfected said skills. I shivered at the thought, and of course, he noticed.

"Everything okay, Bella?" He asked, giving me that half smile that melted me when I was seventeen. What it made me want to do in that moment would make a porn star look virginal.

Clearing my throat, I answered. "Yes, Edward, I'm fine. You look good, very good. It's been a long time." I hoped my voice didn't betray the emotion I felt. A lot of life had happened for both of us in the years since we'd seen each other, but at one time, we were extremely important to each other.

Edward returned the favor, appraising my new-to-him curves with a look that told me he was remembering how I used to look and maybe hoping for a peek at the 'more mature' me.

"You look fantastic, Bella," he said, his voice full of what sounded like a mix of lust and regret. "Not that you weren't always, beautiful," he clarified. "But, damn, woman, you grew up."

My laugh was shaky; I was both embarrassed and turned on by his assessment.

Ignoring Rose and Emmett, who had been making snarky comments behind us, Edward said, "Let's get out of here and catch up." He shrugged, almost shyly, the bravado from minutes ago gone.

My thoughts immediately went to him taking me home. As much as I wanted to do just that, I knew it would be a bad idea to fall into bed with him. We didn't exactly leave on favorable terms, and now I was coming home for good, planning on starting my business.

He noticed my hesitation. "Bella, I didn't mean it like that, but hey, let's go grab a beer and walk down to the water instead."

Nodding, I held my hand out to him, signaling for him to take the lead. He grasped my hand and squeezed, and then led us over to the keg.

Catcalls from the peanut gallery of friends drifted through the air as we made our way through the throngs of people surrounding the keg. Edward said hello to people I didn't know, but didn't introduce me. I was a little hurt, remembering when he was proud to show me off, but I had to admit, I wouldn't know how to introduce him, either. Old friend seemed like a weak description for someone who'd once, and probably still, held my heart. And that would have hurt worse.

We both said hi to mutual friends: Jessica, Lauren, Mike, Tyler, and a host of others who used to be part of the crowd we ran with. We received a lot of strange looks as we stood there holding hands as if no time had passed. Tanya looked at our clasped hands and stomped off towards the water. I looked up at Edward, and he just shrugged. I was sure there was more history here than I would want to hear about, but knowing Tanya finally got her hooks into him hurt. She'd wanted him for as long as I could remember. But I walked away, and she was probably waiting to help him pick up the pieces.

After filling our cups and chatting idly with a few people, Edward tugged on my hand, and we headed towards the water, in the opposite direction Tanya had fled. Part of me wanted to ask what that was all about but honestly didn't want to know.

I kicked off my shoes, so I could feel the soft wet sand between my toes. It had been far too long since I'd enjoyed the feel, and I wasn't going to miss the opportunity. I could feel Edward's eyes on my ass, and may have stayed bent over a beat longer than necessary to pick up my shoes.

Reaching the water's edge, I walked further in, getting my feet and legs wet, enjoying the feeling of being seventeen again.

Edward sat on the shore, watching me.

I took my time moving back to him, kicking up water before coming to sit next to him.

After a moment too long of silence, he spoke. "So, Matt Stafford huh? I thought I heard he was married."

Laughing but trying to ignore the elephant in the room, or on the beach, I said, "I don't know that they've gotten married, but he is dating someone, or he was last I heard."

"So, you really went out that loser?" he asked again, an edge to his voice.

"I wouldn't necessarily call a successful SEC quarterback-turned-pro a loser, but yes, I did go out with him for a while." All of a sudden, the sand became very interesting.

"When?" he asked, but I was sure he already knew.

I looked up at him, finding his eyes. I wanted him to know. "Freshman year." Right after you threw away our future, I wanted to add but didn't.

"Yeah, I heard back then. Guess you just wanted to be the quarterback's girlfriend after all."

I was pissed, so I said, "Edward, you told me it was over if I left. YOU ended us, not me! What did you want me to do? You are the one who decided, without even talking to me, to throw away your ticket to school. And then you acted as though I should give up my dreams because you decided you didn't want yours anymore."

"And apparently Tanya was there to warm your bed at night."

He looked down, hiding the shame that was apparent on his face.

"When?" I parroted his question.

He looked up, meeting my eyes. "We went out right after you left for about a year, I guess."

My heart sank.

I guess I didn't mean that much to him after all.

"Then we were off and on again for most of the time you were gone." This time he didn't meet my eyes.

A lone tear escaped, but I asked what I needed to know. "How long have you been off, or is it on now?"

"We've been over for six months, Bella. It will sound shitty, but she was just a way to pass the time. My heart was never mine to give; it was always in Athens with someone else."

I looked up at himand asked, "Why did you give it all up, Edward? Why did you give me up?"

He didn't answer, so after another too-long moment of silence, I started to get up. If he was going to accuse me of shit and wasn't going to talk to me after he initiated this, I wasn't going to stick around. I'd had my heart broken by him once, and I wasn't a masochist.

He grabbed my wrist and looked into my eyes, silently asking me not to leave. "Give me a minute to get my thoughts together, please. I will tell you everything."

I looked in his eyes, and finding the sincerity, I sat back down. His physical appearance had changed, but his eyes hadn't. He was still the same soft-heartedEdward I'd known.

After a few more uncomfortable minutes, he spoke. "Bella, do you remember all the times I complained about my shoulder hurting, and how everyone told me just to rest it?"

I nodded. I had been concerned, but everyone was so sure it wasn't anything serious.

"Well, when I went to Atlanta for those few weeks with Dad before signing, it wasn't a vacation. I went to see a specialist. I had a torn labrum, and they couldn't repair with surgery so that it would hold the ball in the socket. Dad made them try, but in the end, my football career was over before it ever had a chance to begin.

I gasped at his revelation before getting pissed. "Damn you, Edward, damn you!" I shouted. "You could have told me! Hell, you could have still come to UGA with me, but you chose to throw me away! Why? What reason could be good enough to justify taking my choices from me, Edward?" A traitorous tear escaped my eye, and I wiped it away quickly.

"Bella, I was so angry at the world. I felt as though I had everything ripped out of my hands, and I wanted everyone to hurt with me. Hell, I was an eighteen-year-old kid. Carlisle's only words were 'you better let Richt know you are no good to him now.'"

Gasping, the anger gave way to sympathy, and I threw my arms around him, hugging him tightly. "Oh, Edward. I wish you would have told me. We could have gotten through it together." This time I didn't hide my tears.

Reluctantly, I released him and sat back down next to him. "Tell me everything." It wasn't a request.

He nodded, took a deep breath, and continued. "Being the stupid kid I was, I decided that if I was going out, I was going out my way. Carlisle's reaction told me all I need to know: if I couldn't play ball, I was useless to anyone. You included." He never looked at me, electing to keep his head down.

I glanced at his shoulder, wondering if that could be the reason for the ink.

He answered my unspoken question before I could make my mouth move to ask.

"Yes, I got the tat the night before. It was my fuck-you to the world. It covered the tiny scars, but it was so much more."

"May I see the whole thing?"

He looked up at me, nodded, and pulled his ripped Henley over his head.

The lights from the near-by homes provided enough illumination for me to see exactly what I'd been missing over the years. I gasped, sucking in air, overtaken by what I saw. His shoulders were broader, more muscular than was apparent with his shirt on. Even sleeveless, you didn't get a full appreciation.

Even under the heavy atmosphere surrounding us, he smirked at me again. "I've spent the last four years working on a construction crew, Bella. I've filled out just a bit." He knew the effect he was having on me, and he was enjoying it, even in the heaviness that consumed us.

I rose to my knees, turning to face him. I looked into his eyes and saw hope. Ignoring that for a moment, I opened the flashlight app on my phone and shined the light on his shoulder, concentrating all of my attention there.

A star, completely black, graced the top of his shoulder. Smaller stars appeared to fall from around the edges; a few appeared to shoot upwards.

I ran my fingers over the edges, trying to find the meaning behind the picture.

As if he read my mind, he explained. "The larger star represents me before I found out. I had them color it black to represent it burning out." His head tilted back, and he looked up at the sky, the memory obviously painful. "The falling stars are just that: pieces of me falling from grace. That's the original tattoo." He looked back down at me and continued. "The shooting stars represent me finding new dreams." He took a breath, gathering his thoughts before continuing.

"After you left for Athens, I figured I had wallowed enough. I'd heard that Black was hiring crew members for several projects on Sinclair, so I went to talk to him. Since Jake had gone to Tech to play ball, I knew he'd need someone to take his place. He seemed eager to take me on as an apprentice of sorts with one condition: I enroll at Georgia College. I reluctantly agreed but quickly found that I enjoyed both the hard work on the job site and the intellectual challenge of some of the courses I'd enrolled in."

He looked up at me and pointed to the image that was etched just below the black star. I brought my phone back up, illuminating it. I gasped as I realized the significance of the artwork that graced his skin. It was a map of his life, highlighting both highs and lows. A black phoenix with splashes of orange, wings spread wide as if in flight represented his journey back to life.

"I got that one when I realized that my calling wasn't football. I was given a second chance and discovered my love of the craft. Making visions come to life. It feeds me, lets me breathe."

We spent the next few hours just talking, about nothing and about everything. He told me the site I'd seen him at early was the first project for his own company. He told me how hearing about Matt and me had just about derailed him. He apologized for giving me an ultimatum. At the time he'd been so distraught, he needed to feel important.

"Bella, screw being a Dawg-we can stay here and get married," Edward declared after I caught up with him.

"Screw being a Dawg, Edward? What the fuck was that in there? We've been talking about this for years, and you just waltz in and decide what's best for both of us? It doesn't work that way. What are we going to do for money, work for minimum wage at the psych hospital? We had dreams and plans, Edward!" I screamed, tears rolling down my face. I was watching it all fall to pieces.

"Hell, I don't know, Bella, but I know I can't pretend to be someone I'm not. So, tell me, are you in this with me?"

I shook my head at him, tears still falling. "Edward, I love you, but I'm going to Athens."

"If you leave, Bella, that's it. It's over." Edward looked hopeful, but that hope disappeared as I turned and walked out the door.

"Edward, had I not walked away, we would have ended up hating each other. Maybe you would have ended up where you are now, or maybe not, but I don't regret following my dream." I looked at him, hoping he would understand. "I regret we weren't able to support each other, but I don't regret leaving," I clarified.

"I know. I was selfish and hurt, which was not a healthy combination. I should have told you what was going on, but instead, I forced you to choose." He looked into my eyes. "Bella, you chose right. I need you to know, you made the right choice. It hurt like hell at the time, but you're right. We wouldn't be sitting here, having this conversation had you caved in back then. You would have ended up hating me in the long run."

"I missed you, so much," I told him honestly. "Every day, I missed you."

"Me, too," he said simply.

We sat there for a while, both of us staring across the water. The silence this time wasn't uncomfortable. It felt natural. It felt like we were both seventeen again and getting a 'do-over'.

I broke the silence. "Do you believe in fate, Edward?"

He looked contemplative as he looked in my eyes. He didn't respond with words. Instead, he leaned in, tilting his head, his eyes never leaving mine. When his lips were hovering just over mine, he whispered, the soft breath tickling my lips as they softly touched my skin.

"Yes."

The kiss began slowly as his lips ghosted over mine, lips touching yet not quite touching. Slowly, he increased the pressure of the kiss. I remembered this boy's kisses: demanding, needy. This man's kisses were all of that but so much more. They told of want, need, but it was a more mature want and need. Patience was present where it used to be lacking. It was my tongue that darted out, begging for his.

For the first time in years, I felt it all—all the emotions, all the sensations, all the love I'd been missing. Our bodies knew this dance, but it was a tango now, not the flailing dance of our youth: tongues finally touching, playfully at first, morphing to uncontrolled desire. Hands moving, wandering, exploring new territory; expanses of skin that were then just a shadow of what they had become.

Edward didn't ask permission, he didn't need to. He reached down and pulled the bottom of my tank top up. I raised my arms, not taking my eyes off his until the fabric momentarily blocked the view. Reaching around behind me, he unclasped my bra, his fingers far more able than they once were.

Breasts exposed, eyes wandered, mouth to skin, the sensations of being devoured overtook me. I reached down, unbuttoning those jeans that looked so delectable on him, yet wanting them off. He chuckled against the skin of my neck where he'd been lavishing his attention. He broke away, too soon, and I whimpered. He chuckled again and stood, pushing his pants and boxers off.

I looked up at him. His body clothed was a sight to behold, but this man exposed, physically and emotionally, was The David: the perfect representation of man. In the dimmed light, the ink reminded me that sometimes roads can merge into a long forgotten path.

Standing, I shimmied out of my shorts and lace. I stood before him exposed, open for him.

When he finally entered me, slowly, I felt complete. As his hips rose and fell, creating friction, I bucked back against him, trying to pull him completely into me. The connection we'd had was there, but like everything else, it was more.

Reaching orgasm had not always happened easily for me, but as his thrusts dug deeper, hit harder, I felt mine building. I didn't have to concentrate on me; I was able to concentrate on him, on us, as his thrusts became more erratic, faster, harder.

"Bella, God, please tell me you're close." His voice sexier than I'd ever heard it.

And I tumbled over the edge, digging my fingers into his shoulders as I pulled him tighter against me, harder in the spot where our road diverged. As I clenched around him, he shuddered and spilled inside of me.

He pulled me with him as he rolled over and leaned in to place a soft kiss on my lips.

We laid on the sand, side-by-side, and he pointed to an empty space on his arm, close to his wrist. At closer look, it wasn't entirely empty; it was an unfinished bird: a swan. He whispered softly, "Now, I can finally finish this part of my journey."

Smiling, I whispered, "It's about time."

And it was.

It was time to put the past behind us.

It was time to move forward on a new path to the future.

Together.

This man covered in ink and dressed in flannel, torn jeans, and boots owned me.

We'd always been heading toward the same destination; we just took different paths to get there. He was no longer the boy I left behind when I was seventeen, but he was always the person I was destined to love.

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