AN: I blame Pandora's Box Is Heavy for this very fluffy piece. (And my gratitude goes to her!) To Alice's White Rabbit and her magical red pen skills. MarieCarro for the banner work. I would also strongly suggest listening to the song "Somewhere Only We Know" by Keane or a plethora of talented musicians. This one is for all the lovers and the dreamers and for Granma Dee. I think she would have loved this.

BPOV

"Did you get your letter yet?" My best friend's voice rings out over the speakerphone as I putter around my apartment.

"No, but I haven't checked my mail yet." I suddenly feel nervous about the menial task that I still have to do today. "I'll do it when we hang up."

"Are you going to go?" Rose asks quietly, and I stop what I'm doing and stare at the phone in my hand. "I know you two had promised, but it's been ten years."

"I mean … even if he doesn't show, I'd want to go back." My voice catches in my throat, and I know she can hear it.

"Bella, at some point, you've got to let this dream go."

"I don't have to let anything go," I say strongly. "He'll be there."

"Because you two are meant to be together? If that were the case, you would already be with him."

This was a common argument between the two of us; Rosalie was sure that the love of my life was out there somewhere, but it wasn't my best friend from high school, who I was too shy to make a move on.

"I'm going to go check my mail," I say, bringing myself back to the present. "I'll call you later."

I don't give Rose a chance to badger me anymore and hang up. I grab my mail key off the hook by my front door and head out into the hallway and take the elevator down to the lobby.

When I reach the bank of boxes, I take a deep breath before opening mine. I blindly grab at the small stack of mail and refuse to look at anything on the ride back up in the elevator.

I let myself back into my apartment and set everything down on the coffee table. I can see a few standard white envelopes sitting in the stack, and I eye them as I chew on the skin around my thumbnail.

"I need a drink," I mutter as I scrub my hands over my face. Moving to the kitchen, I decide on a glass of wine and pour generously before sitting on the couch in front of my coffee table and staring at the mail.

Electric bill.

Resident.

Penny Saver.

Coupon for a local waxing salon.

"Maybe I should save that one," I laugh to myself.

Then I see it. My own handwriting from ten years ago when I was a senior in high school. The yellow forwarding label on the bottom of the envelope covers most of my previous address, but I know it states Forks, WA.

Mr. Banner, our English teacher, thought we should write letters to ourselves ten years in the future. We could write about our dreams and goals, predictions on where we would be in the future, etc.

I ran my finger under the flap and tore open the envelope and pulled out the college-ruled, lined paper and unfolded it.

Dear Me?

I actually think this is a sort of pointless, busy-work activity Mr. Banner has us doing, but whatever. He's going to send these to us in 10 years, so let's make some predictions.

I don't know what I want to do now, so maybe you're a teacher or studying law. I really like to write, so maybe you're doing something with that. I hope you aren't still in school unless its grad school because we got really smart about something.

Please don't still be living with Mom and Dad. I mean, they're great, but you're 28 years old. You should be off living your own life. You probably have a cool, cute boyfriend. Is it Edward? Did you finally get over the butterflies in your stomach and just tell him how you feel?

The tears are falling, and I'm having a hard time making out everything I've written so long ago.

Remember Denmark and the Faroe Islands? If you're reading this, you have ten days to get back there.

If nothing else in your life is going right, let this be the one thing that does. Buy that plane ticket, pack your bags, and tell that man how much you love him.

You still do, don't you?

Don't be a chicken, Bella. That's reserved for me, past you.

I sit back on the couch and sniff; 18-year-old Bella might have been a chicken, but she wasn't stupid. It was time to declare myself. I picked up my phone and pulled up the Facebook app. I wrote a new status saying, "Searching for flights to Denmark."

Thirty seconds later: Edward Cullen loved your post.

Three days, two stern talks from my mother and Rose, and dragging my suitcase out of my closet later I had booked my flights and was working on my hotels when a new message window popped up on Facebook.

Edward Cullen: So, have you found a flight yet?

Bella Swan: Yup. Just securing some hotel rooms, and then I'll be all set.

I should ask him, right? This was our promise to each other.

Edward Cullen: I get into Copenhagen on June 14 and leave on the 28th. I plan to be on the islands every day between those two dates.

Edward Cullen: You're coming, right?

Bella Swan: I'm just going to see The Little Mermaid statue and eat. j/k

Bella Swan: My travel dates are the same as yours. Where are you flying out from?

Edward didn't have any personal information on his Facebook profile, so I wasn't sure where he was living. He could tell where I lived and what I did for a living by my profile, but this was the most we had spoken since graduation day.

Edward Cullen: I'm sorry. I have to run. I can't wait to see you in a few days, Bella.

I see the green dot next to his name disappear and instead of being disappointed that he left so abruptly, I'm more excited at the prospect of seeing him after all this time.

After securing my hotels, I run a couple of loads of laundry down to the basement laundry room and finalize my time off from work. I can pack in the morning and decide as soon as I fold the laundry straight out of the dryer, that I'll go to bed early.

I leave tomorrow.

I'll see him in two days.

It's all I can think of as I deep clean my apartment and pack up my perishables to give to Rose when she picks me up later tonight to drive me to the airport. She still can't believe that I'm not only going but because I live frugally and smartly, I'm flying in first-class roundtrip. She's made herself very vocal in the last few days.

"What are you going to do when he doesn't show?"

"It's so much money, Bella! Can you really afford this?"

"Ten years, Bella! If he wanted to be with you, he would have come to you before now."

She and I have argued more this week than when we shared a dorm room for four years; it's all because she doesn't understand what Edward and I had between us.

We had, for some reason, started taking Danish as our foreign language in freshmen year, and it was announced that in our senior year, we would be taking a trip to Denmark if we continued with the classes.

Our parents thought it was a great opportunity, so they signed us up, and we started saving money. Edward and I became better friends studying together. We realized we were best friends when homecoming in our junior year rolled around, and Edward just turned to me and said, "I already got us tickets."

That's how everything was between us—easy and casual. I'm pretty sure, looking back, that everyone knew we had feelings for each other. We knew we had feelings for each other, but I know I was too shy and maybe he was too.

I was also so worried about losing our friendship; it was the most important relationship I had at the time, and I would have done anything to keep it intact.

Denmark was a trip of a lifetime, and we enjoyed every minute of it, but we had the opportunity to take a side trip to the Faroe Islands, and everything changed there.

They're an idyllic and peaceful set of islands in the North Atlantic Ocean made up of eighteen jagged volcanic islands that look like they've just been dropped haphazardly from the sky. With lush, green valleys, treeless moors, waterfalls, and imposing cliffs … well, it was easily the most breathtaking place we'd ever seen.

We fell in love with the islands and the Faroese people immediately and began to realize the love we had for each other.

We shared our first kiss on a hike we took with a few people from our class. When Edward had pulled me back a few feet, we were standing on a cliffside where we could see out to the ocean and the gorgeous scenery of the surrounding islands.

Edward took my face in his soft, gloved hands and brought his chapped lips crashing down to mine. It wasn't long or deep, but I felt a surge of electricity move through my body that I have never felt since.

When we got back to the States, we never discussed it.

College was my plan, and Edward … well, he didn't really have one, and he'd been fighting with his parents about it for some time.

We went to prom together, practiced graduation, wrote our letters, and made a pact as we wrote them.

"Screw the ten-year reunion. From the day we get our letters, we have to be back on the island within ten days," he looked so earnest at me. If I had only known then that he'd had a plan.

"Okay, but you better show, Cullen."

"I will if you will, Swan." He holds out his left pinky. I loop my right with it, and we both kiss our own hands.

"It's a date," I say with a smirk.

"It sure is."

Two days after graduation, Edward left for Marine Corps boot camp; he'd enlisted right after prom.

I cried for three weeks straight, and then I picked myself up and moved on.

I just never let go.

When I arrive in Copenhagen, it's midday and there's a brisk breeze filling the air. I grab a taxi to my hotel and get checked in, and once I'm settled in my room and room service has been ordered, I log onto Facebook.

Safe and sound in Denmark. It's just as beautiful as I remembered. I can't wait for the next two weeks.

I post the status, set my phone down, and move to answer the door as the steward knocks.

My phone vibrates as she lays out all my food and encourages me to enjoy it. I tip her and send her on her way and snatch up my phone. Rose posted a gif of a little girl rolling her eyes.

Edward Cullen: I can't wait to see what the next couple of days have in store.

I open our chat from the other night and send off a message.

Bella Swan: I'm having a meal in my room before I take a long nap.

Edward Cullen: *Sent a photo* I've been here for several hours, and I just had to go and see it.

It's a selfie of Edward standing by The Little Mermaid statue down by the harbor. He's wearing sunglasses and a black beanie. His cheeks are red from the cold, I'm assuming, and his smile is wide.

Bella Swan: I can't wait to go see her.

Edward Cullen: I can't wait to see you.

Bella Swan: Is it weird that we're both here, but we're waiting to see each other?

Edward Cullen: Maybe … Should we not wait for the islands?

Bella Swan: …

Bella Swan: As much as I want to see you right now …

Edward Cullen: There's something about the islands. I know.

Edward had also ordered food for himself, so we chatted while we ate our respective meals. As I started to get more and more sleepy, I finally had to sign off. I've been up for a day and a half, and I need to get as much sleep as possible.

When I fall asleep, I dream of that fateful day and that beautiful hike.

"I can't believe we're hiking on vacation! We do this back home all the time." I can hear Lauren whining from somewhere near the front of the pack and roll my eyes at Edward.

"Yeah, like she's ever hiked a day in her life," I scoff as we ascend a small hill and come up on a cliffside overlooking the ocean.

I stop and stare out at the crystal blue water, rippling with the wind, and take a deep breath. "Gosh, it's beautiful out here."

I know Edward is next to me because I can feel him, but when he doesn't answer, I turn to look at him. His face is clouded with something I can't read, and I can always read Edward Cullen. I grab his hand and give it a squeeze. "What's up?"

He links his fingers with mine and sighs before looking at me. "It is beautiful here." He pulls me to him and drapes his arm over my shoulder. "I may never get the chance to tell you a lot of things, but I want you to know that you're beautiful here too. You're my best friend, and it won't matter if we lose touch. You'll always be my best friend."

"Edward, what are you talking about?" I pull away from him and look up into his face. "You're freaking me out."

"I just want you to understand that you mean more to me than … me. Things are going to change soon; we're going to change soon. But you'll always hold the number one spot in my heart." Edward reaches out and cups my cheek.

As he starts to pull me to him, I realize what's happening.

When his slightly chapped lips meet mine the kiss doesn't magically deepen. This doesn't turn into some tawdry romance novel where our tongues are wrestling for dominance. It's innocent and sweet. The perfect high school kiss.

As he pulls away, his forehead lands on mine, and I know that no one will ever kiss me like that again. No one will ever make me feel the way Edward does.

"We should catch up," he says as we fully part from each other. I nod in agreement, and we hurry to meet up with the group.

When I wake in the late evening in a Copenhagen hotel room, I know that regardless of what happens in the next few days, one thing remains true.

I still love Edward Cullen.

After a quick meal and a soak in the tub, I manage to fall back to sleep around one in the morning, and when I wake several hours later, I actually feel rested and refreshed. The main reason I splurged for first class was so I could sleep comfortably on the plane, but I'm so glad I managed to sleep more than six hours in this time zone.

After a quick shower, I venture out for coffee and a pastry. My flight to the islands leaves in about 3 hours, so I don't have a lot of time. I marvel at how clean the city is and how friendly everyone seems. I easily find a small cafe for a latte and croissant and walk back out onto the street.

There's a flower stand near my hotel, and I can't help but stop and look at the pretty colors as I enjoy my light breakfast. I spot some gorgeous pale green Gerbera daisies and run a finger over their petals.

I try to buy just one, but the florist insists I just take it. I push the krone into his hand regardless and blush when he kisses the back of my hand. Back in my room, I clean up and pack up my belongings and call down to the desk to ask when I should head to the airport and if they can call for transportation.

They tell me to come down in 20 minutes, and I slip the daisy behind my left ear and snap a selfie of just the flower and some of my brown hair with the scenic view from my hotel behind me. I upload to Facebook with this caption, "Wonderful first morning. Can't wait to see what else the day holds."

Edward Cullen: Which ear is that behind?

Bella Swan: My left.

Edward Cullen: Oh, I see.

Bella Swan: Edward, you've always owned my heart. I have to leave for the airport. I'll see you soon.

The plane ride is the longest two hours of my life. I know I still have to check into the hotel when I get there and figure out where we're meeting, but this plane could not fly any more slowly than if the Wright Brothers built it themselves.

When we finally land and disembark I think I hear someone call my name, but when I look around, I don't see anyone. Moving through the little airport is easy, and I'm paying attention to everything because I'm certain I heard my name. When I get to baggage claim, I know why I'm so certain—Edward Cullen was on my flight.

He's smiling at me from across the warehouse-type room, and it's crooked on the right like it always was before.

I can tell, even from 30 feet away that what I once saw as flawless skin has seen some damage. A scar through his left eyebrow where the hair doesn't grow anymore, a cheek that either saw road rash recently or shrapnel at some point, and an arm missing completely.

He walks cautiously to me, and I smile so wide my cheeks ache.

"Edward." His name comes out as a whisper on my breath when he stops in front of me. I reach out and cup his cheek, and he leans in with a smile and closes his eyes. "It's really you."

"It's been a really long journey to get back here, back to you, but I'm here." His eyes flash open, and they're still as green as the moors here on the island. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything."

"No, don't—" I start, but he cuts me off.

"Yes, I do. We never talked about us, and there definitely should have been an us. I left and I haven't spoken to you in ten years." He places the bag he was holding between our feet and grasps my hand within his. "I just want to make everything right. It's been so wrong for such a long time without you."

I know I'm crying, just like I know people are staring at us having our reunion in this tiny airport.

I don't care.

"You'll tell me everything? I mean everything," I say when he smiles with tears in his eyes.

When he nods enthusiastically, I turn to check for our bags and find them to be the only ones left. I grab them both and lead him out to the taxis.

We find out once we get into a car that we're staying at the same hotel. I'm nervous and excited and scared, if I'm being totally honest. After checking in, we agree to meet downstairs in the bar for a small dinner and a few drinks.

I brought precisely one dress on this trip, and this is the time to wear it. I take the fastest shower ever recorded and slip the dress on, along with some mascara, lip-gloss, and flats. I grab my sweater and purse, and I'm out the door and downstairs to find Edward sitting at a lovely table next to a fireplace.

"I ordered a glass of white wine, but I wasn't sure what you like," Edward told me as the waiter deposited his wine.

"I'll have the same."

After a few minutes, the waiter brings my glass, and we order a charcuterie board to nibble on as we talk.

"You look like I remember you did," he says as he lifts his glass for a toast. "To my best friend. The number one person in my heart. You look beautiful here and everywhere else. I'm happy we're both here."

We both sip from our glasses, but our eyes never stray from each other. We talk about meaningless stuff, our families mostly, before the waiter brings the food. Once it's in front of us and we've asked for the bottle of wine for the table, the real conversation starts.

Over the wine and food, Edward tells me his story. How his parents were desperate for him to make a decision about what he was doing with his life. How he honestly felt like he had no direction and drive. How he wanted me but didn't want to drag me down along with him.

His grandfather had been a Marine and he'd always looked up to him, so when we returned from our European trip, he enlisted. His parents had been scared, furious, and oddly proud.

Edward didn't know how to tell me what was going on, which is why we never talked about our trip, our kiss, or our feelings.

"It's my biggest regret, Bella." Edward reaches across the table and grabs my hand.

I can see the pain in his eyes. I can also hear Rose's voice in my head telling me that I'm stupid for pinning all these years and that he's a loser.

I know who's been lying to me … and it isn't Edward. It never was.

"We're here now. We kept our promise." I link my fingers with his and he smiles. "That's what really matters."

He tells me with so much bravery about his three tours in Afghanistan and how the first got him the facial scars from an IED and the third took his arm in an unrelated rollover accident.

"That's when I got out. Honorable discharge for medical reasons." He smirks as he shrugs his empty shoulder. "I became an instructor, and I'm out at Camp Lejeune."

"How do you feel?"

"I'm three years out from losing my arm in the dumbest way possible in a war zone. I go to therapy, physical and mental. I talk about it because it's a part of my life. Sometimes, I have nightmares about … all of it." Edward swallows hard, and I see his eyes glisten for a moment. "But I go on every day. I didn't die because I'm meant for more. I understand that now. I'm really happy with the work that I do."

"Your parents?" I ask because they left Forks a couple of years after we graduated, and I lost track of them too.

"They moved to Texas to be with Alice and her husband Jasper. They have two kids: Michael and Cynthia." He digs his wallet out to show me pictures, and they're cute kids. "Now spill it. Tell me about you."

And I do. I talk more to him in the following hour than I do on a normal day.

"I'm actually a travel writer." I grin when his smile explodes on his face. "Yeah, I'm actually writing. My editor is pissed that I'm here and on vacation, but this place is too special for me. I've been a lot of places, but there is no place in the world quite as beautiful as Faroe."

"What about your parents? How's the chief?" Edward is sipping his wine when I answer and he chokes.

"Charlie died of a heart attack last year. Mom moved to Seattle to be near me," I murmur and wipe away unshed tears. "She still misses him every day."

"I didn't know. I'm so sorry." Edward takes my hand again. "He was a good man, and I really liked him."

I thank him and excuse myself to the ladies room. A couple glasses of wine, reconnecting with Edward, and now the mention of my father had me overwhelmed. I don't consider the time when I pull out my phone and call my mom.

She answers on the second ring with a mumbled, "Isabella? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm sorry. I don't know what time it is there." I ramble as I hear her sit up in her bed and click on her bedside lamp. "You knew Daddy was the one from the very beginning, right?"

"I did. Your father was the only love of my life, and I'm happy knowing that. From the moment I met him to his last day with me, we cherished each other." Mom is crying, and I feel doubly bad now. "Did you see Edward?"

"Yes."

"And you still love him, but you're feeling scared? Is he still the shy boy who used to walk you home?"

I laugh. "No, he's really not. He's … he's coming on strong, but what if it's all fake or something?"

"Now that sounds like that brat Rosalie Hale talking." Mom has never liked Rose. Maybe she has a point. "Bella, when you know, you know. Trust your gut and listen to your heart."

"Okay, Mom. I'm sorry I woke you."

We say our goodbyes, and I head back out to the dining room to find a nervous-looking Edward.

"I'm sorry I was gone so long. I needed to call my mom." I pick up my wine but don't drink from the glass.

"Is everything okay? I feel like maybe this is too much all at once." He looks like that nervous teenager again, like I can't read him, and I find that I still don't like it.

"Do you want to go hiking tomorrow? I scheduled a hike, and I'm sure we can add another person to it." I'm confident because I actually made the reservation for two people. "It's the same trail we took … before."

We agree to meet in the lobby the next morning, and Edward pays the waiter and escorts me to my room. Standing awkwardly in front of my door, we say goodnight. I wanted to kiss him but opted for a hug instead. His body was warm and solid, and I felt like he fit in my arms, like he was made just for me.

I let myself in my room and got ready for bed, trying to follow my gut and listen to my heart, but both of them were being suspiciously quiet.

Sometime around one in the morning, my gut and heart begin talking to each other, and then they finally start talking to me, and I formulate a plan.

As soon as I know the touring company I booked the hike through is open, I call and explain my plans for the day. They assure me that they can provide a guide who can accommodate my needs but also keep his trap shut.

After showering and dressing in layers because the weather is unpredictable at best this time of year, I make my way down to the lobby to find Edward waiting on a short sofa with two coffee cups in front of him.

"I hoped we'd have time for a coffee," he says as I plop down next to him and hug him quickly.

"We do, but we also get breakfast before the hike—you know fuel and all that jazz." I take a drink from the cup he pushes to me.

My gut and my heart are mumbling to each other, and I hope to a higher power that Edward can't hear anything. Realistically, I know he can't, but it feels so loud to me that everyone passing through this lobby should be staring at me.

Our guide collects us and takes us to a local restaurant that specializes in traditional cuisine. Our breakfast includes buttered bread, cheese, cured meats, jellied fruits, and whale meat. Edward and I had never been picky eaters, so we eat everything on our plates and are thankful that the fatty and heavy whale meat is a very small portion.

Setting off on the hike after some safety instructions feels a little like ten years ago when we were seniors in high school; although, I do find I'm catching myself not to help Edward unless he asks for it.

The moment we get to our spot, we both stop and look out over the bright blue ocean covered in a gauzy layer of fog this early in the morning. It appears nothing has changed up here: the cliffs are still so tall they take your breath away, and it seems the ocean stretches endlessly.

I turn and there's Edward, once again with a look on his face, but this time I can read it. It's a look that mirrors my own feelings. I'm following my gut and listening to my heart.

"Edward, I've always loved you, and I'm in love with you," I tell him as I reach up and cup his scarred cheek. "I have no idea what we'll do or how we'll make it work, but I waited for four years in high school, and I just waited ten years to be reunited with you. I'm not letting you go again."

I can feel his hot tears slip between my fingers as he smiles and laughs. "I had a whole speech planned for you up here." We both laugh and grab onto each other in a desperate hug.

"Bella, I only had one thing to say up here." He steps back and reaches into his pocket. He doesn't kneel down, but he does flip open a small velvet box. "I bought this after my first deployment," he says with a trembling voice and shows me a small solitaire diamond ring. "I came back in one piece, and I had planned to take leave and come back to Forks and work things out with you."

He gestures to me, and I take the box from him, and as I do, he pulls the ring out and holds it up between us. "This isn't just a ring and, hopefully, a piece of paper. It's a promise that you will always hold the number one spot in my heart. That this time, I'll tell you what's going on in my mind and my heart. That when your head hits the pillow every night, no matter what country you're in, you'll know how in love with you I am."

"Edward, marry me?" I laugh as he looks confused for a half a second, and then laughs as he slips the ring onto my special finger on my left hand.

"I thought you'd never ask!" He sweeps me into a hug, and we laugh on the cliffside on our beautiful island.

When he sets me down, I press up on my toes to close the distance and press my lips to his. This time the kiss does deepen. Our tongues play and dance together. It's still sweet if much less innocent.

It's the perfect forever kiss.