Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight :)

Time passes in moments.

Moments, which rushing past, define the path of a life just as surely as they lead towards its end.

How rarely do we stop to examine that path, to see the reasons why all things happen,

to consider whether the path we take in life is our own making or simply one into which we drift with eyes closed.

But what if we could stop, pause to take stock of each precious moment before it passes?

Might we then see the endless forks in the road that have shaped a life?

And, seeing those choices, choose another path?

- The X-Files, all things -

Epilogue: Together

The iron railing was cold against my palms as I curled my fingers around it. I wondered about it for a moment; after all, it wasn't often that something felt cold, or even cool, against my marble skin. My low body temperature made sure of that.

Closing my eyes, I tightened my hold around the railing that bordered the familiar lake, and I wondered to myself how many times I had stood in this very spot over the years, sometimes admiring the sunset, and other times just watching the waves playing with the shore. Even back then, the iron railing had felt cold against my human skin, unless it had been warmed by the sun earlier in the day.

There was no sun now. It had set behind the gray clouds several hours ago. It had been overcast the whole day – a typical, November day in Buffalo – and I knew this because I had been here since dawn. It hadn't been my plan to stay so long, but for some reason, I hadn't been able to bring myself to leave.

I also didn't know what had made me come here in the first place – why today? Why on earth today? Wasn't this day hard enough already?

My eyes drifted open, and I spent a moment watching the distant lights on the other side of the lake. The wind began to play with my hair; it was so cold and harsh that it would have whipped some color into my cheeks had I been a mortal. But my skin remained pale, unchanged. It was utterly heedless of the cooling weather and the approaching winter, heedless of the time passing by. But I wasn't heedless of those things. I felt the cold wind, even though my skin didn't. I felt the time ticking by, even though I couldn't measure it by the beats of my heart.

What my immortal, unchangeable appearance refused to acknowledge, my mind was painfully conscious of. I felt it with every pore now, this endless, infinite existence. Its consequences. Its burdens.

I had been aware of these things before. But being aware, knowing to expect something, is a different thing compared to first-hand knowledge. You didn't learn these things by watching others, after all, by listening to their stories and experiences and trying to empathize with them. You learned these things by living through them yourself. Someone had once said that what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. Those words were probably meant to encourage, to give hope, but right now I felt like they were mocking me, pushing me down with their weight.

I knew it wouldn't kill me, this day. This day I had hated long before it had even arrived. I'd live through it, I'd survive it, but would it make me stronger? I didn't know. Ask me again tomorrow. Ask me again in a hundred years; I might have an answer by then.

There was something familiar in the breeze; I drew in an involuntary breath, tasting the air; lemongrass, oranges, ginger and star anise. My throat began to burn. Even after almost three years, the tempting scents were hard to ignore. I swallowed the venom that had begun to pool in my mouth and kept staring at the dark lake, listening to the two sets of approaching footsteps. I recognized them without even looking; I had heard them before. They belonged to a man and his little daughter. I had seen him leaving with her early this morning. They were on their way back home now, I assumed.

Home. The man and the small girl had no idea that the place they now called theirs had once been my home, too. I'd watched them as they had walked from the tree alley this morning. I had watched as the man had locked the front door behind him before taking the girl's hand. The same door I had pushed closed thousands and thousands of times myself in the past. One time, I had slammed it shut so hard that I had to replace the door's small window. Adrian and I had drifted into a heated argument, and he had left, slamming the door closed behind him to vent his irritation. I had gone after him, opened the door and flung it closed even harder, and that's when the window had shattered.

I wondered where Adrian was now. If he was happy. If he had found what he was looking for. Or maybe he wasn't looking for anything. Maybe that was the beauty of it. Maybe discovering things was more fulfilling when you weren't searching for them in the first place.

The man and his little daughter were closer now. I heard them pass me by, and I turned to watch them as they made their way through the silent, windy park. The man was holding her hand, just like in the morning; I wondered if the girl had a mother, or if it was just the two them. After a while, they disappeared, continuing on their way to my apartment. No – their apartment. It hadn't been mine in a long time. I wondered if the walls in the kitchen and living room were still yellow. I hoped so. I also found myself trying to guess what the man had done to my small library. Maybe he had turned it into a nursery or playroom.

I turned to face the dark lake again, still squeezing the cold iron railing. Or maybe it wasn't the railing that was cold.

Maybe it was just me.

I felt him before I heard him or smelled him. It was the gentle shiver along my spine that alerted me of his presence. I had wondered when he might appear, how long it would take for him to find me. And now he had; he always found me.

He came up to me. Soundlessly, wordlessly. Maybe he knew that I was beyond words now. Maybe he knew that I was cold.

Except that there was no maybe about it. As he wrapped his arms around me from behind and rested his chin on the top of my head, I closed my eyes, and for the first time that day, I felt something close to warm. Something close to peaceful. I wasn't entirely there, though. Maybe one day, I would be.

For several endless moments, we just watched the dark waves rolling in.

"How did you know I was here?" I asked after a while. "Did Alice tell you?"

I heard him draw in a quiet breath, felt the rise and fall of his chest against my back. "No," he answered. "She had left somewhere with Jasper when I came home. Esme told me that you had gone for a walk early this morning... and you hadn't returned yet." His arms loosened around me, and he came to stand next to me. "I meant to come home earlier, but the hospital was short on staff today. There's a persistent virus going around."

I nodded, knowing that he would have stayed home today if it had been possible. I prepared to ask the question I knew I needed to ask, but I couldn't bring myself to form the words. I asked something else instead. To buy myself more time. To postpone the inevitable. To twist the knife in the wound that was already inflamed.

"How did you know where I was, then?" I asked, desperate to hang onto this simple topic a while longer. "It rained a couple of hours ago. It must have washed off my trail." I turned to give him a glance; he was watching me closely.

"I just thought," he began carefully, "that this is the only place where you might go. That something here might call out to you today."

I smiled sadly. "And since I'm already miserable, I might as well try to depress myself even more while I'm at it?"

He shook his head, returning my sad smile. "I don't believe it was misery you were seeking when you came here."

"Then what?"

"Comfort," he answered. "Familiarity. You needed to return to the place that is very dear to you. You needed to see it with your owns eyes, to know that it's still there. To know that there is at least one thing in this world that hasn't changed, even though everything else has. It brings you comfort, to know that those things exist. That not everything changes."

I remembered him saying something similar to me three years ago. Even then, we had been standing right here, watching the moon as its pale light played on the restless waves. "There's something comforting about stability," he had said. "To know that there's something constant in this world... I suppose it can have a calming effect on you."

He had been in need of comfort himself when he had spoken those words. He, too, had been missing someone.

I drew in a steadying breath, feeling my lungs fill with cold air. The wind whipped my face again as if to urge me forward. Or maybe to make me backslide and fall. I forced the question out of my mouth, and I was relieved, then; I'd never have to ask it again. This was the first and the last time.

"Did Edward and Veronique call?" My voice was too calm, too even.

Carlisle put an arm around my shoulders. I heard him breathe out slowly. "Yes. Rosalie said that they called late in the afternoon."

I nodded, staring ahead of me. "It's done, then?"

He sighed quietly. "It's done." His voice was gentle, apologetic. I felt his gaze as he watched me, as he waited for some kind of reaction from me. I didn't know how to react, to be honest. I had never been here before, in this position. This state of mind... it was unfamiliar to me. I tried to distance myself from it; maybe it was a natural response. Vampires couldn't cry or pass out or go into shock. A part of me wanted to draw my lungs full of air and howl at the wind in order to give some physical, perceptible form to the tumult inside me. If I couldn't form tears, at least I could try to scream until there was nothing left of my vocal cords.

But instead, I just asked, "Are they coming home soon?"

I saw Carlisle nod from the corner of my eye. "In a few days. They'll observe the situation from a distance for a while, making sure that someone finds what there is to find of your personal effects."

"How did they choose to go about it?" I heard myself ask. I didn't know what had gotten into me. Maybe some psychotic part of my mind I hadn't been aware of before was running my lips.

Carlisle didn't answer at first. "I thought that... you didn't want to know anything."

"I don't. But... I guess I need to. It'll bug me for the rest of eternity if I don't ask. I just want to get it over with." Just like ripping off a band-aid.

His arm tightened around my shoulders. It was another moment before he spoke. "They went to Michigan," he began, his voice quiet. "They found a hiking trail... with a lot of high, rocky cliffs. They took one of your coats and your backpack, and put your wallet, your passport and some of your other personal items in it." He paused, and I heard him draw in a shallow breath. "It'll look like you strayed from the marked trail, perhaps to admire the scenery... and then... well, Edward made it look like there was a small rockslide. There's a lake just below the cliff, and the coast is very rocky."

I closed my eyes. I had to force myself to keep listening.

"It will look like your coat and your backpack have washed ashore. There was a storm yesterday, so no one will suspect anything when your body can't be found. You can see the coast from the trail – someone will notice the backpack and the coat by tomorrow. Edward and Veronique will make sure that the authorities are informed."

I nodded mechanically, opening my eyes and thinking to myself that it might probably be on the news the next day. I kept staring at the restless waves of the lake, feeling like my mind, my entire being, had frozen. Turned to stone. It was strange. I was a vampire; I was harder than stone. But for the first time in my existence, I actually felt like I was nothing more than an lifeless statue.

My fingers were still wrapped around the iron railing. I didn't release my hold, not even when two palm-shaped dents appeared on the fragile metal. That's when Carlisle began to uncurl my fingers one by one, prying them off of the cold railing. I hardly noticed. I kept staring ahead of me blindly, feeling like every inch of me had first turned to ice, and then everything was suddenly burning. Maybe he knew that; maybe he felt it, too. Warm arms wrapped around me, clutching me to his chest. I closed my eyes, letting him hold my weight and keep me on my feet. I held onto him like a drowning person would to a life preserver. Like he was the only thing holding me to the earth. In many ways, he was. Gravity had ceased to matter to me a long time ago; Carlisle, his presence, had taken its place permanently.

"I'm so sorry, Bella," I heard him whisper. His lips nuzzled my hair.

"I know," I breathed. "But it's not your doing. There's nothing for you to be sorry about."

He drew away slightly, his hands surrounding my face. "I would do anything to take this pain away from you. To experience it on your behalf."

I shook my head. "You've done your part when it comes to this. You've been where I am now with your own father. You've carried your burden... and I have to carry mine."

"No." He pressed a kiss on my lips, a kiss that was both gentle and urgent. "I may have been alone at the beginning of this life and that is why I was also forced to survive alone. But you... that will not be you. I won't allow it. You are not alone. You'll never be."

I gave him something like a smile; my lips didn't quite know how to form one. "I know that," I answered. "Of course I do. What I meant was that... time will temper the pain. Both mine and my parents'. There's no shortcut through grief. You're supposed to feel it. You're supposed to feel like it's so suffocating that it might just be enough to kill you. There's no easy way out of it... but there are things that can... well, maybe not ease the pain, but at least help keep it something like bearable. Things that remind you that someday breathing will be easier." I closed my eyes briefly, feeling him place a soft kiss on my forehead. "You once told me to take one breath at a time. Now I know why. It's the only feasible step to take."

Carlisle didn't say anything. His arms surrounded me again, and he tucked me against his chest, holding me tightly. I didn't know how long I stood there, in the circle of his arms. Time lost its meaning. The passing seconds and minutes and hours couldn't touch us, but for once, our immortality had nothing to do with it.

For one measureless moment, the world carried on without us, and only the steady rise and fall of his chest and the soft kisses he placed on the top of my head set a pace for my existence. And even after that moment was gone, and even as time began to regain its meaning... his breathing, the touch of his lips, the light of his eyes, the solid, strong feel of his arms... all those things kept marking the passage of life. For the first time that day, I found myself glad that the passing hours and days and years couldn't touch us. That we were blind to their passage, to the cold wind whipping our skins. That we were unaffected by them. That one breath later, or ten thousand breaths later, we'd still be here. Together. Me and him.

I inhaled the scent of him. He smelled like beaches and ocean, like cotton and pepperment, like summer nights after the rain. There were faint traces of blood and iodine on his clothes; he hadn't changed after coming home from the hospital. The smell caused a dull ache in my throat, but the burn was easy to ignore.

"I'll have to thank Edward and Veronique when they get back," I murmured against his chest. "I'm sure that this wasn't exactly a pleasant trip for them. I was surprised when they offered to go and do this for me. A task like this... it couldn't have been easy for Edward, and it must have brought back a lot of bad memories for Veronique."

"Perhaps it is so. But I also imagine that there are reminders everywhere, and she has simply accepted that she must to confront them. I don't think she ever got the chance to really mourn her brother and creator – the Volturi stood in the way of that, in more ways than one. That's the reason why her sorrow is still so fresh. Even after all this time."

I pulled back from his chest to see his face. He reached out to brush a rebel strand of hair from my face. It was slightly moist; it had begun to rain.

"I'm glad she has Edward," I murmured.

Carlisle nodded. "So am I. And I think... I think her experiences have forced him to look things from a different angle. For a long time, Edward always believed that no matter how much effort we put into making this existence fulfilling, or at least try keep it tolerable... in his heart of hearts, he sincerely seemed to believe that we are living only a half-life. He knew there would be the occasional sunrise, but it never seemed to compensate for the constant shadows hovering over us. And now... now he's doing everything he can to make Veronique see that despite the shadows, this existence is worth living for. He's devoted to his endeavor to make her fully believe that grief and loss are things one can survive. That life goes on. If not today, then maybe tomorrow."

I nodded slowly. "I think... when Edward is with her, he finds a new purpose. He's always been prone to melancholy and pessimism, and when Veronique has those phases every now and then... it makes him want to see this life from a different perspective – or from a different angle, like you said – and it's because he has a reason that urges him on. He doesn't want Veronique to go where he has sometimes been. I can see it that it hurts him whenever she's going through difficult time." I fell silent, my fingers playing idly with the collars his coat.

"She challenges him in other areas as well," Carlisle mused, now smiling softly. "She has strong opinions about some matters, after all, and she's not afraid to disagree with him. I think she keeps him always guessing, despite the fact that he can read her mind. I also find it... pleasing... that they always seem to be able to reconcile after having a disagreement."

I chuckled softly. "Yeah. They've had more than a few heated arguments. It always surprises me as well that they manage to make up before the morning comes."

"It's an enviable skill. Especially since they are both equally headstrong."

"You mean pig-headed?"

He gave a quiet laugh. I leaned against him, reaching up and locking my hands behind his neck.

"Maybe that's the glue that holds them together," I mused. "I bet they haven't had a single boring day during these past two and a half years. I'm sure a little quarrel every now and then keeps it all very interesting."

"We rarely have those," Carlisle suddenly said, his tone reflective.

I arched an eyebrow at him. "Is that a nice way to say that you think what we have is boring? Because I have a fix for that. I can always arrange something. I'm a woman, after all. I don't have to have a reason to be in a bad mood."

"Oh, I see," he said in mock realization. He tightened his arms around me, pulling me impossibly close to his body. His breath tickled my face. "You are saying... that you want to provoke a fight so that we could later... reconcile."

"No. I'm saying that maybe that's what you want."

"You make me sound so vile. What kind of image do you have of me?" He bridled in mock offense. "Truly, Bella, I expected that you would know me better than that after all this time." He shook his head slowly, like he was immensely disappointed. "You know, I don't think anyone has insulted me like this in a while. I'm very, very, offended."

Resisting the urge to smile, I rose to my tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss on his lips. His arms tightened around me, but other than that, he didn't react to my tender gesture. Or pretended not to react, more likely.

"Okay. I'm sorry," I told him and batted my eyelashes at him. "What exactly did you find insulting?"

He sighed as if in disappointment. "If you don't know the answer, then I cannot help you."

"Aw, now you just ruined it." I huffed and I rolled my eyes. "That's a woman's line, Carlisle. You were doing so well, but now you just lost all your manly credibility. You know, be glad that Emmett's not here. He'd be very pissed off. And then he'd give you a lesson or two about how these things actually work."

Carlisle broke into soft laughter. "All right. It was an honest mistake, one that I try not to repeat. Is there a way to recover the manly credibility I just lost?"

I pulled away from him slightly, struggling to cross my arms in a disgruntled manner. It was hard; there was too little space between our bodies. "If you don't know the answer, I can't help you."

He chuckled softly before he managed to rein in his expression. Then he took hold of my shoulders and tried to pull me back to him, ignoring my resistance. I turned my face away as he leaned forward and dodged his attempts to kiss me. He tightened his hold on my shoulders, and I managed to evade his lips a couple of more times before he suddenly dove forward, moving faster than I had ever seen, and sealed his lips to mine. I giggled against his mouth as he kept assaulting my lips, his kiss both gentle and demanding. After a while, my amusement disappeared completely. The ground disappeared from under my feet as Carlisle picked me up and placed me on the metal railing. His hands went to my hips to support me – not that I would ever lose my balance. He deepened the kiss, his tongue beginning to explore mine.

My body seemed to act on its own accord as I wrapped my legs around his thighs, pulling him even closer to me. A gasp left my mouth as he broke away from my lips, and as I felt him nibble the line of my jaw, my eyes rolled back in my head.

"Carlisle..." I managed to say eventually, his name coming out as a breathy moan. "Carlisle, we're still in the park. It's a – " I sighed loudly as his hands stole under my coat. His fingers began to trail along my spine. A violent tremble went through me, and I struggled to finish my earlier sentence. "It's a public place. Are you planning on making us criminals?"

"It's late. There's no one here," he answered quietly, claiming my lips again.

My fingers dove into his hair, and I crushed my lips to his, thinking idly that if we were humans, there would blood and cuts and bruises. As he released my mouth to leave a trail of hot, needy kisses along my throat, I struggled to regain my reason.

"But it's... raining," I managed to murmur. To be honest, I barely paid attention to the heavy curtain of rain that was now pouring down on us.

"Does it bother you?" he asked, his clever fingers still kneading my spine.

I didn't manage to answer; his lips attacked mine again. I wondered what would happen if some late passer-by saw us wrapped around each other like this; the evening was windy and it was raining like crazy. No one sane stayed outside when the weather was this terrible. Maybe they'd think that we were two rebellious teenagers who had snuck outside to make out.

I pulled air into my lungs as he released my lips again; I felt like I needed it, as impossible as it was. Somehow, my fingers had hooked around his belt loops – I didn't know how that had happened.

"But it's cold," I protested feebly, feeling strangely dizzy and still gasping the air I didn't need.

"I'll keep you warm." Carlisle's voice was hushed and pitched so low that it made something deep in my stomach clench. At his words, I felt myself relent. A low sigh left my chest as his lips placed a soft kiss below my ear.

"I know," I heard myself whisper, feeling the rest of my resistance flicker out like a candle flame in the wind. I melted against him as he kissed me again, and then I felt like the ground had dropped out from under me as he suddenly pulled back. I had to grasp the railing to keep myself in balance, and I sat there, stunned, as Carlisle took a step back. He was smiling; there was a familiar glimmer in his eyes. My appalled expression amused him.

"Well?" he asked. "Did I regain it? My manly credibility, as I believe you called it?"

I opened and closed my mouth like fish out of water. It took a moment before I could summon a respone.

"Fine. Yes. You regained it."

Carlisle nodded, pleased. He buttoned up his coat – apparently I had undone it at some point – and then he just kept looking at me, a small smile still on his lips. His clothes and hair were completely drenched, and I assumed that so were mine.

"Well?" I asked when he didn't move.

"Well what?" His tone was innocent, confused.

"Are you just going to stand there?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't I?"

"Are you just going to leave it here? You're supposed to finish the job."

"But we are in a public place. And it's raining. And it's cold." He pretended to ponder, a frown pulling at his brow. "I'm afraid I cannot remember the rest of your petty, womanly complaints."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Petty?"

He cast a look around him, putting his hands in his pockets and sighing quietly. "And in all honesty, Bella," he continued offhandedly, "I don't see how a dark, windy park serves as a romantic setting, anyway. But if you insist..." He trailed off meaningfully. His voice feigned reluctance, as if he had just surrendered to some crazy, absurd suggestion.

As well as he was playing his part, I didn't buy it. It didn't mean, though, that I couldn't have some fun of my own.

As he took a step closer to me, I held up my hand. "I don't insist on anything. By all means, let's just stay here and do nothing. In fact, let's stay here all night. In the rain. I don't mind. I didn't want you, anyway. I was just pretending."

He gauged my expression carefully, and for a moment I thought that he had actually reached the false conclusion that I was serious. But then he took another step closer, closing the short distance between our bodies, and smiled softly.

"Well... if we are going to do nothing... then it probably means that I cannot do this." He nuzzled my cheek with his lips. "Or this." He caught my lips briefly; his mouth tasted like rain. "Or this," he continued as he bent slightly to pick me up in his arms. I wrapped my arm behind his neck as he adjusted my position, sliding his other arm under my knees.

"What are you up to now, Dr. Cullen?" I asked him in a low tone.

He closed his eyes and groaned quietly. "Bella, you know very well how much it affects me when you call me that. It drives me out of my mind."

"In a good way or in a bad way?"

"In a very delightful, marvelous way."

I smiled. "I'd better not call you that, then. I like you so much more when you're mentally sound."

He chuckled, leaning in to kiss my cheek.

"Seriously, though," I said and gestured at my current position. "What are you up to?"

"Well, I was planning on taking you somewhere that is not public, somewhere where it does not rain... and since I am going through all this trouble to achieve those two things, I thought I might as well find a place where it is warm as well. Or at least room temperature."

"Oh? Does such a perfect place exist?" I curled my hand around his neck, my fingers caressing the ends of his silky hair. "Does it have a romantic setting, as you earlier put it?"

He pretended to be concerned. "I can work on that, I suppose."

I gave a soft laugh, leaning my head against his shoulder. I let my eyes slip closed, and just enjoyed the aftermath of our playful banter. The rain was still pouring down on us like it was trying to flood the world and drown us on the side. I didn't care, though. I barely noticed the cold tears the sky kept shedding. I idly came to think that maybe it had heard my silent thoughts moments ago, about how I couldn't cry in this body. Maybe the sky was crying on my behalf.

My eyes drifted open, and I let my gaze wander around the empty, dark park. I spotted a familiar birch three a few dozen yards away, and I realized that this was exactly where I had stood when I'd seen Carlisle step out of the tree's shadows that one late October afternoon three years ago. I still remembered my shock, the whirling storm of chaotic emotions inside me when I'd realized that it was him. That eight years hadn't been enough to distance my world from his.

This was also where we had stood a few weeks later, watching the moon and talking about changes. I had missed Adrian, and he had missed Esme, even though he hadn't been willing to admit it.

"Where did you go?"

Carlisle whisper was quiet, tender. I met his questioning, golden eyes, giving him a sad smile.

"I'm just getting all nostalgic, that's all. Remember that one night three years ago when we were here, talking a walk?" I asked it out of habit more than anything else; of course he remembered. Vampires didn't forget.

He nodded. "There was a waning moon in the sky."

"Right. We were talking about... things. You asked me if I missed Adrian, and I asked you if you ever missed Esme." I frowned, trying to remember; human memories always tended to flee. "You said something about stability. That there's something calming about the fact that some things in this world stay the same."

He nodded again. "Right. And you said that it was an illusion. Stability."

I smiled sadly. "I wish I had been wrong about it. And then I said something thoughtless... I said something like... that I don't think that changes are adverse. Negative."

"It wasn't thoughtless," he disagreed lightly. "Some changes are good, after all."

I nodded, not meeting his eyes. "Right. Some changes." The wind was suddenly cold again. In my mind's eye, I saw some unknown, high cliff and the lake below it. I saw my coat floating in the water, heard how the waves brought it closer and closer to the shore. I tightened my hold around Carlisle, leaning my head against his shoulder again. My other hand grasped the chest of his coat.

I felt his cheek press against my forehead, and I knew that he was where I was. That he saw what I did.

"Hey," he whispered, holding me closer in his arms. "It's all right. It will be all right. I know it doesn't seem like it now, but... trust me. It will getter better one day. I promise you, Bella."

His words pulled me back from the cliff. I let out a slow breath and nodded, because I believed him. How could I not? He never lied to me, and he never would, especially about matters such as this. It was the sincerity in his words, the love, the devotion, that made it easier for me to breathe. It made the cold wind and rain feel bearable. There was pain still, and I knew that it would remain. But one day, some of it would be gone. I knew it because he had promised, and he always kept his promises.

Lifting my head from his shoulder, I looked at him. His eyes were golden like the sun at its rising, deep like the ocean at its calmest. There was worry in them; sorrow. It was my sorrow, but it was also his. He was carrying a part of it, just like he was carrying me now.

"Take me home," I asked him.

He tightened his hold around me. His eyes didn't leave my face even as he began to walk forward at a slow human pace, his steps beginning to take us out of the park. The rain was coming down even more heavily now; it drowned the sound of his quiet footsteps.

"Are you going to carry me all the way to Ithaca?" I asked quietly.

He nodded, smiling softly. "That is my plan. I am attempting to maintain my manly credibility, after all."

I chuckled and rolled my eyes. "You're going to be hung up on that for the next twenty years, aren't you?"

"Perhaps. But I intend to enjoy every moment, and I will make you enjoy as well while I'm at it."

It sounded like a promise.

"You know, when we reach the highway, some passer-by might notice that there is a man carrying something that looks suspiciously like a corpse on a dark, gloomy, rainy night. Do you really want someone to call the cops?"

"Jasper has made you watch too many horror movies," he answered. "And besides, I'm planning on taking a shortcut. There has to be no highways or observant motorists involved."

"Oh. You've thought of everything, haven't you?"

"Mmh-hmm." He nodded, smiling.

The rocking movement of his walk made me feel like I was floating. I thought to myself that this was just like him. Only Carlisle would think of carrying me over a hundred miles even though I was more than perfectly capable of walking myself.

"I'll make you warm." A moment ago, he had said it jestingly in a less serious situation. And yet I knew that he had meant it. I hoped he knew how true his words had been. Because he really did make me warm.

All the time.

Tightening my hold around him, I looked at him. Carlisle met my gaze; he had raindrops in his eyelashes. As he kept carrying me through the heavy rain, he leaned closer to place soft kisses on my eyes, as if to take away my tears. To take away my pain and sorrow. To pull me away from the cliff's edge. Then he kissed my lips, as if to make me smile. To give me hope for a better tomorrow. To make me believe in that one day when it would be easier to breathe again.

Then he shifted me in his arms and held me even tighter to him, as if to bring me closer to his heart. As if to make sure that I'd stay there and never leave. He didn't have to do that; I was already there. Getting even closer was impossible when you were as close as you could possibly be. As in love as you could possibly be. Maybe that was the beauty of this thing. When one's heart filled up to the point of bursting, it would simply overflow and give way to more emotion.

My heart... it had overflowed a long time ago.

Tomorrow was still far away, and there was still sorrow in my heart; there was still pain. But despite those things, I knew that this was where I was supposed to be. That this was where I wanted – needed – to be. This was where my steps had taken me all my life, where Carlisle's steps had taken him. I didn't know how, and I didn't know why – perhaps I never would. It made me think about the reason why Carlisle had returned to my life in the first place. I wondered about that obscure, brief flash of future that had started all this. But thinking about it brought no clarity to the seamless web of enigmas. I knew that it might always be so.

There would always be questions that couldn't be answered. That's what life sometimes was. Questions without answers. Books without names. Guesses without certainty or evidence. I knew I may not ever know when all this had begun, or where it would end. Maybe it was a series of unpexpected occurences that had brought us here. Maybe it was something else. Something that was beyond belief, something that exceeded our understanding. The only thing I knew for certain – the only thing that truly mattered – was that all this had happened. That we were here. Together. That when it was dark and cold and raining, Carlisle would keep me warm.

Whatever it was that lay behind all this, be it a coincidence or fate's whim... I was grateful that it had led to this. That it had brought us here, right here and nowhere else.

That it had caused our paths to entwine.

A/N: I only have one thing to say. Thank you for reading, and thank you for sharing this journey with me. Until we meet again...

:)