I own nothing to do with Twilight and NEVER will. S.M does- clearly ;)

I want to thank you all for your amazing support, and for reading my story. Your reviews, alerts, favorites, etc. I can honestly say, YOU are the reason why I kept on writing this story in the first place. You all amaze me so much and I will be forever thankful. I know Bella and Edward have had a whole lot of drama in this story, and I did promise a HEA. So hopefully, this will be the fitting conclusion. Kind of sad to actually be completing this story.

Again, I thank you all so much for going along on this journey with me. I tried to throw in a lemon for measure, even though its probably crappy ;) Hope you enjoy though, and please let me know what you think. Was this an okay, satisfying ending for you? Of course, there stil will be some hardship in their lives realistically, but I wanted to make the ending as happy as possible. I apologize if the story was really confusing- I'm still doubting myself as a FF writer and am basically still learning how to roll with it. I thank you all so much, you guys are amazing and I'm so humbled!

Love you guys- CKXXX

Epilogue

BPOV

"You can't blame yourself for Tanya's death, Edward. Whatever happened, it was her choice."

He sniffs loudly. "Thank you, love. For saying that. I think I needed to hear it from somebody, to give myself the closure I needed to let her go. It means a lot to me to hear you say that." He gives me a smile, a little reluctantly.

"Come here," I say quietly while leaning up against the mattress on my knees, opening my arms widely for him.

And he does.

As he wraps his arms around my waist, he looks me deeply in the eyes. Now that he has returned home from whatever motel it was he was staying in for the night last night, this amazing sense of relief overcomes me. He is safe, here in my arms. I suddenly feel this staggering need for him, this longing for him to touch me. For his bare skin to be all over me, enclosing around me, naked as we came.

Teetering on my knees, I lean upwards and kiss him, tentatively. A small kiss, a nervous kiss. His lips touch mine in return, anxious and uncertain. Then I lean back against the balls of my feet, to look him in the eyes.

I want you.

I need you.

For as long as we have. For as long as you'll want me...

I run my hands down the opening of his leather jacket, fingernails scraping against the buttons on his flannel shirt, giving him a hard, long look with my eyes.

"Do you want me?" He asks uncertainly, his voice hoarse and cracking with emotion.

I have to fold my lips together against the smile that was threatening to form over his question. Did I want him? Oh, yes!

But not quite yet...

Still looking into his eyes, I lift my hands and let them cup the sides of his face between them. His eyes flutter closed, his impossibly long, black eyelashes flittering beneath his eyelids with the movement, and I hear him give out the smallest of a wistful sigh, over my touching of his face.

To my dismay, I note the faint lines underneath his eyes. It's obvious to me that he hasn't slept well last night, perhaps from dwelling over our ridiculous argument.

"I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions and accusing you of cheating. And, I'm sorry for having this make you bring Tanya and her suicide up into the conversation. But you can't keep on blaming yourself over this." I place my hands over his warm ears, run my hands gently through his hair. I feel him tremble against me. And... I want you to know, that you don't always have to keep things deeply hidden inside your head, away from me," I continue, desperately. "Whatever it is troubling you, I want you to tell me, so that we can get through this together."

I lean forward, and brush my lips softly against each of his eyelids.

I want to kiss away his troubles...

Kiss away all of his pain.

"Bella." His voice is a low whine. It makes my heart feel as if it is swelling up with love in that instance. Love and wanting to comfort.

"This is how relationships are meant to work." I kiss his pale, stubble-scratchy cheeks. "We have to communicate and tell each other what's going on inside of our heads. I need you to trust me enough to tell me whatever it is you feel, or need. I won't judge; I'm only here to offer a listening ear. I promise you! Otherwise, I don't think this will ever work between-"

"- Don't say it."

Before I know it, Edward's hands fling up from my waist, and both are grasping my face tightly between them. He kisses me; a strong, demanding kiss that leaves me breathless, like never before.

While gasping for air between his fast, rough moving lips, I shove his leather jacket from his broad shoulders and tug it halfway to his arms, then make a speedy start on the buttons of his shirt. My fingers are fumbling to fling them undone and are not yielding into what I am wanting quick enough. I cry out in frustrated desperation against his mouth.

God damn it! Stupid buttons!

But then, finally, but not soon enough, I manage to fling his shirt open. I pull the shirt-tail free of his trousers, then pull the latch open on his belt briskly. I start pushing down his jeans, then slid my fingers into his briefs. I gasp against his mouth, my fingers tracing along his warm, long, hard erection, to the very tip.

He gives out a deep cry against my mouth in response. It made my blood spike up and rush with adrenaline and excitement. His hands take a new action of course; his hands going behind my back, underneath my shirt, fingernails tracing roughly up the curvature of my spine and meeting where the thin straps of my bra began.

My skin felt all goosepimply, yet blistering, underneath his firm, rough touch.

"I missed you when you were gone," I whisper urgently against his lips, feeling as if I am on the verge of crying, my throat dry and tight. "I was so unbelievably relieved when you called, even when you did interrupt me from my dreaming of us."

His lips start a slow, halting rhythm against mine, then suddenly, he pulls his head back to meet my eyes. The look in his eyes, I wasn't lying, kind of turned me on; Shining wildly both in excitement and mischeviousness.

"I interrupted you, did I?" He pants out roughly. "Just what were you dreaming of- concerning us?"

I feel my cheeks flame over his question, and feel my heart beat a little faster, while one of his hands work to unclasp the clip on my bra.

"It was our wedding day, and I was walking down the aisle with my father to meet you," I blab without thinking.

"Really?" He sounds merely... amused. "You were dreaming of us getting married last night?"

"Yes," I answer promptly, past all embarrassment now.

My bra makes a loud noise as his hand finally works out the mechanics on how to remove the darned thing. Who knew bras could be such a hindrance at a needy time like this?

"Tell me about it," he invites quietly, peeling my shirt up.

I raise my arms and let him take the lead, removing it from my body, as well as my bra. Then, ungracefully, I'm there, leaning on my bare knees, with my breasts and stomach showing, all for his eyes to see. Even though we've had sex probably around three, or four times already, I still felt irksome and uncomfortable with my body in front of him.

I felt so clumsy, plain and inept, half of the time. Especially in comparision to his body.

His eyes flit down to my chest unapologetically, and they stay there for what seems a lifetime.

"Your turn," I say, trying to sound angry. "Lose the shirt right now!"

He laughs shakily, and does as I say without a word. He tosses his leather jacket, barely an inch past my head, onto the floor on the opposite side of the mattress, then shrugs out of his shirt hastily.

I stare unapologetically in return, wide-eyed and out of breath.

I don't think I could ever get used to seeing Edward without a shirt on. And, to show my appreciation, I stroke his chest, the curly patch of hair there, then pinch his flat nipples, hard. He grunts, a little in both pain and shock.

Maybe for payback, his hand went behind my neck, and he squeezed it between his fingers roughly.

"Tell me about your dream," he repeats, his voice a dangerously low, playful growl.

"Well, like I said, I was walking arm-in-arm with Charlie down the aisle, and you were there waiting." I pause, a gasp of surprise slipping between my lips as one of his hands encircle around one of my small breasts, giving it a squeeze tenderly, almost reverently. "You were, um..." His warm, unrelentless fingers running up my thighs roughly. "Wearing a tuxedo and you looked... amazing."

Oh God. What is he doing to me?

He places a jeaned knee on the mattress, right between my thighs and pushes up.

"Oh," I gasp breathlessly, losing all responsible focus. "That feels quite good."

"You were saying?" he prompts with a grin.

It takes me several breaths to regain my focus. "Uhm, well... I was saying, how good you looked in a tuxedo." I was losing my concentration, my voice ragged and shaking, as he bent his head down, his warm lips tracing the outline of my throat. "And my, uhm... well, then we were saying our vows and... it was, uh, beautiful."

"Does this mean you are reconsidering what you said about waiting a few years?" He breathes against my throat hotly, amusement lurking in his tone.

"Um, I...I..." I stammer, feeling my cheeks redden yet again over the sudden incoherency he was bringing out of me.

"Is that a yes?" He chuckles against my throat, the movement vibrating through his lips onto my neck.

"Um... I, uh..."

"Or a no?" He finishes, kissing the hollow on my throat once more.

"I, um, I don't know yet," I say shyly. "Even though it kind of terrifies me a little bit, it was a beautiful dream."

"I think you might need a little more convincing, but I think we've got all day," he whispers huskily, then unable to help myself, I jerked as his hands tugged down my shorts forcefully. His eyes then looked down at my V as if it were calling to him with such aching desperation. "There isn't anything I wouldn't do to convince you to marry me, Bella. I know we've been through a lot of hardships and drama throughout these eight months- even more so than the regular person, possibly..."

I look up at him questioningly.

"But, you give me reason to live. You make my life better, in a way that I never assumed possible. I never once thought it possible a girl could love me while I'm like this... especially after all the things I've put you through."

I take his shoulders in my hands, and nod slowly. "I know it will take a lot of work. But I'm willing enough to go through all of this with you. Whatever happens, where ever we end up, whether together or not... I will always be here for you. Because what we have here, I believe it's worth fighting for."

"Yes, I believe we do, too." He smiles down at me, a little ruefully. "I promise to try harder to make this work. I promise to try keep myself stable, and that I'll follow through with treatment, until the end."

That.

That was all I needed to hear; that the two of us would be in this together, that we would both work hard for some normalcy in our relationship to make this work.

"Thank you. It was exactly what I needed to hear." I wrap my arms around him, resting my cheek against his warm shoulder.

He lay me down as we were onto the mattress, my legs locked around his waist, my head leaning on his shoulder.

For half a minute, he lay there on top of me, looking down at me with a soft, gentle expression, as though I was the most beautiful girl in the world to him. Really, he was the most beautiful thing to me, Bipolar and all. Beautiful and scary, all at the same time. I tried to give him the look back with my eyes, but the both of us started to grin, neither able to keep a straight face.

Then, he moves his hands in front of him and slowly undresses of his trousers.

I held my breath, biting my lip, while I stared up at him.

Though it was a great pleasure watching him undress for me and see him naked in the flesh, especially after sleeping alone last evening, I still felt the same pricklings of anxiousness tensing my back and neck muscles over what we were about to do; I thought I would get used to doing this with Edward, but something told me it wasn't something you got used to easy because, each and every time, the experience was as different as the last.

"I need to feel you," I confess, at last. My voice came out barely audible.

"Don't worry, love. I don't plan on leaving this bed anytime soon." He smirks down at me, sending me wet in all the right places.

His hands begin drifting urgently; up along my thighs, the back of my shoulder blades, everywhere. I loved the feeling of his calloused and rough, yet gentle, hands moulding into me. Being apart for one day even, made me realize how much so I miss being with him.

His hand touches the mound between my thighs, and I jerk a little in surprise, before opening myself up completely to him.

"I missed you so much, while you were away," I whisper desperately up at him, hands clinging onto his shoulders for dear life and legs squeezing tighter around him. "I worried about you!"

Earnestly pleased by my words, he holds himself still on top of me, then I hear him give out an incoherent noise as he eases gently into me. Warm, hot, wet. Thighs rubbing against each other, as he moved on top of me.

Home.

"Yes, Edward!" I moan. "Please don't stop!"

I dig my nails into his shoulders and, after some time, after a steady, constant rough rhythm, I finally feel as if my whole body has surrendered, that every pore of my skin has opened up to envelop in the sensations he is making my body feel for him.

My eyes flutter closed without my consent as Edward hovers over me after our release, gasping and groaning, pressing his mouth against the top of my sweaty forehead, while muttering tender words my brain can't seem to register. My toes stay curled long after, my breathing coming out in rough, shaky exhales. I felt as if I was somewhere else; my body floating through the atmosphere, underneath the glorious wave of it all.

We lay there like that for a long time; trembling, naked bodies half curled together into the mass of tangled bedsheets.

I don't think I would ever forget this. Forget him.

I would never forget his smell- a little mixture of cigarettes, a musky scent and grass- as I inhaled in his skin through my nostrils deeply, and, for as long as I lived, I would never forget the way he felt being inside of me- especially the way he could make me feel such pleasure.

Soon, he withdraws and falls onto his side, propping himself up onto his elbows to lie beside me. He takes one of my hands, guides it slowly to his chest, then plays with my fingers. "So, have we reconsidered the marriage arrangement now, love?" He asks, a knowing, wide smile coming across his face.

I whisper back, without hardly thinking about what I was saying, still trying to come down the floating highness over the orgasm we had just experienced minutes ago. "Yes, Edward. I do want to marry you, and be with you for as long as we can be together. Through every hardship along the way, we'll get through it together." I hardly even recognized my voice yet, there was not one single cell in my body that regretted admitting to it.

He frowns and I felt my forehead crease in worry. I didn't understand why he was looking so sad all of a sudden. "I have to say, I'm a little disappointed with how quickly you gave in, love."

"Why?" I found myself still whispering, breathless.

In such a tender action that made my heart flutter, darn him, he raises my hand to kiss the back of it. He rolls back onto his side. "Because, love, it would have been so much funner to keep on having to convince you in bed, all day, into the night."

So suddenly, that I couldn't help but cry out in alarm, he grins mischeviously as he casually slides a finger up inside me. "May I?" he breathes, moving his finger very gently, and I felt myself tense up around him.

Darn it. Darn him.

Having Edward all to myself as my husband in the near future; Bipolar, every day and night full of hot, steamy sex, and all... It was something I could definitely get used to.

September (Bella's birthday)

Life seemed to be moving positively forward for the pair of us.

Edward finally asked his father Carlisle about getting a job at the hospital, while I finally managed to get a casual job working as a waitress in a small restaurant full of kind people.

Even after some encouragement from Edward, he had managed to convince me to call both Charlie, and Alice and Rosalie. He stood there leaning against the counter, ever so patient, silently playing with my hair and twirling strands into little knots with his fingers while I called them. Alice, Rosalie, and I agreed to meet for a girl's night next weekend- Edward insisted I go have a night away from him to enjoy myself.

My eighteenth birthday was coming up, and while I didn't have anything planned to celebrate the day, it seemed Edward had. He had become very secretive lately, and when I got home this evening, it was hardly a surprise he was waiting for me.

"What's for dinner, Edward?"

He gives me a guilty look. "Actually, I only made an appetizer, love. Here, I'll go get it."

Edward dutifully gets up and goes into the small kitchen for the appetizer. I have no idea what to expect; I didn't even know if Edward could cook all that well. The past few months of living together, we have mainly lived on my cooking, bowls of cereal and milk, if we can't be bothered and, occassionally, take-out.

Edward comes in, grinning crookedly all the while, which sends my pulse racing a mile a minute, carrying in a large round plate covered by a silver dome.

"Ta-da!" He flings it open, and I burst out laughing. Our appetizer is chocolate mudcake, with homemade icing decorations; a squiggly glump of pink icing sugar, which reads messily:

Happy 18th birthday Bella.

There was something else he had bothered to write underneath in pink icing. It was a little harder to read though. I bent down, squinting my eyes:

Will you be my fiancee please?

My eyes widen and I felt the whole blood in my body rushing up to my face. I peer up at Edward in shock, positive my face resembled a red chilli in appearance.

"Bella?" He begins uncertainly. He takes one of my hands grimly in his, while his other hand digs through the side pocket on his jeans.

Oh my God. He cannot be seriously doing this!

"Bella, please keep in mind that this is only a small, insignificant little ring. Just because I'm giving you it as a gift now, for your birthday, doesn't mean that you have to feel pressured into marrying me tonight, or tomorrow for that matter."

Oh no! He so is!

He slides down onto his knee, and produces a small satin pouch from his pocket.

"Bella?" He says again, his voice trembling.

"Yes?" Mine matches his, sounding both trembling and scared.

"Throughout everything, you have still stuck by me, through good and bad, thick and thin. Even when I kidnapped you in my car to take you to Vegas, over my overdosing, everything... you still managed to stick by me. Now, I want to support you, through thick and thin, good and bad, in return. I promise to never take you for granted, to never hurt you, and, well... you already know I love you. So... will you do the extreme honour of agreeing to be my fiancee and, eventually, in four or five years time, whenever you're ready... my wife?"

"Edward... I, um, yes!"

Edward beams up at me and as I hold out my fingers, he slides the engagement ring over my finger into place above the silver promise ring he gave me months ago.

I was never one who wanted to make a big deal out of an engagement, mainly because I didn't particularly enjoy attention being put onto me, so I tried to swallow the nagging fear and twinge of excitement I felt inside, and turned to my mudcake.

"So, are you going to cut me a big slice of my appetizer now?" I tease, wiping at my eyes, while trying to restrain the various sorts of muddled emotions bubbling up deeply inside over his proposal.

"Oh, how can I deny my fiancee of her wishes," Edward teases back, grinning. "Of course I will cut you a piece. In a little while," he adds, scooping some of the melted chocolate off the cake with a finger. I give out a shreik as he deliberately smears it down alongside my throat, chuckling infectiously.

Then, as he puts his hands up in the air to emphasize surrender, bending down to lick the icing off my skin with a wet, moist tongue, he mumbles, "How about we use the plates and cutlery another night? It'll save time spent washing up later, after all. And, you know what more time means... right, love?" He winks ostentatiously at me.

Did I ever!

No matter what happens in the future, good or bad, I knew we would get through it. Because we had each other.

I would take the good with the bad any day of the week, so long as I still had Edward in my life. Love was about seeing an imperfect person in the best possible light- I felt that way about Edward. He was the most perfect person for me; understanding, caring and loving. A little crazy and overly sentimental at times, but that was exactly what I needed.

And this... our future... it was only just beginning

THE END... :)

I am currently working on a very different fanfiction to PS, called Masen's Girl

It's the 1940's. Notorious gangster Edward Masen finds himself drawn to Isabella Swan, a Feds daughter. They embark on a wild life of crime. Will they survive or will they be going down in a shell of bullets? Bonnie & Clyde based. AH. Lemons. Check it out if you'd like. :-)