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Four Years Later…

BELLA

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My back aches as I gather my things from my desk. I've just escorted my last parent out of the classroom, and parent teacher conferences are officially over. I place my palm over my lower back and press, while my other goes to rest on the front of my belly. We're cutting it close. Baby Cullen is due to make an appearance any day now, but now that I've got those conferences out of the way, I vote for sooner rather than later. Judging by the way Baby is kicking, sooner might be the winning vote.

"I dare you to hurry up, little one," I whisper with a smile, then wince as I move to pick up a stray folder. I hate sitting at my desk all day. It's hell on my back. Then again, so is standing all day. I'm in my thirty-ninth week of pregnancy—pretty much everything makes me uncomfortable these days.

There's a tap on the doorframe and I look up to find my husband waiting with a smile, looking delicious in his scrubs. I knew he wouldn't be far behind once the last parents left. I know I saw him lurking out in the hallway a few conferences back.

"I'm sorry, I don't believe you're on my schedule," I say with a smirk, as he makes his way into my second grade classroom.

"I'm permanently penciled in," he returns with a confident grin. He reaches me, wraps me in his arms, belly and all, and drops a soft kiss on my lips. "How are we feeling tonight?"

"Okay, but I'm tired. My back hurts because of those stupid chairs."

Edward frowns, his hands searching my back. "What if it's labor?"

I laugh at my sweet, paranoid husband. "I doubt it. First time mothers are usually late."

"But you're on your feet so much. All that gravity…"

I laugh harder. "Are you afraid Baby is going to fall out?" It's a loaded question and we both know it. If he so much as suggests that things are that loose down there…

"Shutting up now," he mumbles with a final squeeze. Stepping back, he asks, "Ready to go?"

I nod and move to pick up my bag, but Edward is quicker.

"Ooh, my own personal bellboy." We head out of the classroom and into the halls.

He grins. "Of course, Ma'am."

"Just don't expect a tip."

"Never." He shoots me a wink. "I'm the one with the tip."

"Always with the terrible jokes."

"You like my jokes."

"That's what you think." I can't conceal my smile. I do like his dumb jokes, almost as much as he likes mine.

"We're getting off track here. We're supposed to be talking about my tip," he says as we exit the building, placing particular emphasis on the last word. We get a funny look from another couple also leaving the building.

I shake my head, laughing as he takes my hand. I'm half afraid of where he's going to put it. Thankfully (though it's a tad disappointing), he keeps it PG until we get to the car. Opening the car door for me, he leans in to set my bag on the passenger seat. As I attempt to get in, he cages me between himself and the car.

"Now I can proposition you properly." He waggles his eyebrows and slides one arm around my waist.

I gesture to my belly, where Baby Cullen kicks between us. "As if I'm not an easy sell when it comes to your charms, Doctor. There's some pretty obvious proof right here."

"I do have you under my spell," he muses with a smile. Leaning down, his lips meet mine, the chaste kiss turning a bit desperate when I try to pull him closer.

He really does have me under his spell.

He hums against my lips as the kiss gentles. "I missed you today."

"I thought about you a couple times," I joke, then pull him down for another kiss that says otherwise.

When we break apart, Edward smiles down at me. "I thought making out in the parking lot was for the high school crowd."

I roll my eyes. "And you just killed the mood."

"There was a mood?" he asks innocently.

"Oh, you know there was a mood."

With a sly look, he says, "There's always a mood with us. It's not always a good one, but…"

"Hey!" I playfully smack his chest. Baby Cullen kicks out at Edward's abdomen. I know, the baby has no concept of where he or she's kicking, but I like to pretend.

"Okay, okay. Let's go home, where we can continue this conversation about moods." He waggles his eyebrows.

"I'll meet you there. It's a race." I'm stirring the pot with this comment, and I know it.

Edward frowns. "No races. You and Baby are relegated to five under the speed limit at all times."

"Then so are you," I counter, and he pouts. "Daddies need to stay safe, too."

"You have a point," he says, though I can tell he's only pretending to be disappointed. His driving has become much more sedate since finding out about Baby.

"So I'll see you at home."

He nods, but doesn't move, just looks down at me with a slight smile on his face.

"What?" I ask, starting to feel a bit self-conscious.

"You're beautiful," he murmurs, kissing my forehead. "I never want to let you go."

"Same here," I admit, realizing we're venturing far into cheesy sap territory. "But I've been here for more than eight hours and I'd really like to go home." The last part sounds a bit snippy, but I place the blame squarely on pregnancy hormones.

Edward laughs and backs away with a knowing look. "See you there, love." He turns away and walks a few paces, but changes his mind and rushes back to plant a quick kiss on my lips. "Love you. Be safe." Then he's leaving again.

I grin. "Love you, too," I call, staring at his sexy ass before squeezing myself into the car.

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x

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He's in the bedroom when I get home, changing out of his scrubs. I catch him with his shirt off and practically drool in excitement. My pregnancy hormones might make me bitchy sometimes, but they also make me hornier than Austin Powers.

"Are you hungry?" he asks, pulling a t-shirt over his head.

I sure am, I think to myself, but not how he means. "The PTO fed us dinner a couple hours ago. They hosted a taco bar for all the teachers."

He laughs. "Bet you and Baby loved that."

We're big fans of tacos. I could eat them daily. "It was delicious. I'm sad I could only fit two in my stomach. Baby takes up a lot of room these days."

He comes over to rest a hand on my belly. "I can't believe she's almost here." Bending down, he kisses the curve of my stomach. "Mommy and Daddy can't wait to meet you, little one." God, he's adorable.

"Still positive Baby is a girl, huh?" I agree with him, though I pretend not to, just to keep him on his toes. He's been convinced she's a girl since we found out I'm pregnant. Baby, however, has decided to keep us in the dark. At every ultrasound, my doctor has been unable to get a look at the goods. After the third try, we decided to do things the old-fashioned way and be surprised.

"Positive," he confirms with a nod as he straightens. "I'm a doctor. I know things."

I laugh. "You're not God."

"That's not what you said last night."

"You're awful."

"I repeat, that's not what you said last night," he laughs, dodging my hand when I try to push him away.

"I repeat, you're awful," I say, but I can't stop laughing.

Wrapping his arms around me, he tows me toward the bed. "I see you need a repeat performance," he growls, planting kisses along my neck. "Let's see if we can knock this baby out of you."

"How romantic," I say, trying to sound sarcastic, but I have to admit, it sounds more like a whimper as he hits a sweet spot just below my jaw.

"I do try," he laughs. His warm breath on my neck makes me shiver.

We reach the edge of the bed and I let him guide me down onto the mattress. He pushes up my shirt, baring my belly. It always makes me feel a little self-conscious, even though I know there's no reason to be—Edward has made it clear he adores my body, pregnant or not. But as he methodically strips us both, my thoughts turn toward his body, not mine. Sometimes I might resent the time he spends running or at the gym, but boy, do I willingly reap the benefits.

His mouth is everywhere, and I run my hands over his shoulders and back, trying to feel as much of him as possible. He grabs my face in both hands, taking my mouth in a kiss that has me gasping for breath.

"Lie on your side," he instructs when we part, and he spoons behind me. Lining himself up, he thrusts inside, and he's not gentle. "How's that for romantic?" he growls in my ear, arms snaking around me.

I laugh, holding onto his forearms, loving his answering, almost evil chuckle. "So romantic. Sickeningly sweet."

"I thought so," he grunts as he hooks an arm under my knee, pulling my leg back over his thigh. He sets a fast pace, and I moan as he goes deeper. Burying his face in my neck, he breathes, "You feel so good."

And so does he. I have no idea how he manages to make me feel tiny when I look like I swallowed a Volkswagen, but the way he manhandles me with such ease, it drives me wild. He doesn't treat me like glass, but he's not rough, either. He always knows just what I need.

"Touch yourself, love," he tells me, nipping at my earlobe. "I'm close."

I reach down to play with my clit, and it doesn't take me long. I can't hold out against the feeling of him inside me, wrapped around me.

Edward follows soon after. "I love you," he sighs as he relaxes behind me.

"I love you, too." I pick up his hand and lay a soft kiss on top.

After a few minutes, I shift so I can look back at him. "You think that did it?"

He grins. "I sort of hope it didn't. I'd like to keep doing this for a little while longer."

"Always with the sex," I tease, knowing I'm just as bad.

Giving me a knowing look, he kisses me gently, one hand caressing my belly. Baby isn't moving, which is fairly normal after sex. Edward says all the rocking probably puts her to sleep.

He's probably right; not that I'll ever admit it to him. He's a lot of things: husband, friend, lover, helper … but the most important thing? He's mine. Always.

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x

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EDWARD

As much as I've done my best to kickstart Bella's labor, we've been a no-go on that front. Baby is taking her time. Bella is officially a week late, and it's making me nervous.

"What will you miss when Baby's here?" Bella asks as we veg out on the couch. It's a rainy Sunday afternoon and I don't have to be at work until tomorrow night. We're both in our PJs. "And don't say the sex," she teases. Her eyes almost sparkle with it when I look at her.

"Well, what else am I supposed to say?" I ask, trying to look innocent. There are plenty of things I'll miss, freedom mostly, but I'm afraid telling her about them might make me look selfish, and the last thing I want to do is make her feel like I don't want this with her. Because it's the number one thing I do want; I've wanted to make a family with Bella since before we got married, to be honest.

"Well, I'll miss the quiet, like this," Bella starts.

"Me, too. But there will be quiet with her, too. There will just be three of us on the couch." I smile, thinking of cuddling here, next to Bella, while she holds our baby in her arms. I can't wait.

"I suppose I'll miss the freedom. To just pick up and do whatever we want, without having to line up a babysitter," I offer, pulling her a little closer. "But I'm not sure I'll miss anything more than I'll love finally meeting her."

Bella sighs, then sniffs. "God, you're too sweet."

"Don't cry, love."

She grumbles at me under her breath as she dashes a few tears away, something about me being too damn cute. I refrain from teasing her, knowing how much she hates crying so easily. The pregnancy hormones will be something she doesn't miss, I'm sure.

Placing a finger under her chin, I turn her face up to mine for a kiss. "I love you. And Baby. You two are my world."

"Stop it," she laughs, through more tears.

"Hey, it's the truth."

"I know. It's just … you're so great. I'm so lucky."

"I'm the lucky one," I insist, putting a hand on her belly.

She stacks hers on top. "We're all lucky, I guess."

I agree, but … I'm the luckiest—I've got her.

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x

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I'm on the back end of an eighteen hour shift when I get the call.

"Don't freak out," Bella begins, which is an automatic cue for me to start freaking out.

"Is it Baby? Are you having contractions? Has your water broken?" I rapid-fire questions at her, my heart rate going through the roof.

"Yes, yes, and no," she answers, "And I thought I said not to freak out. Calm down, Edward."

I take a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. Feeling only marginally better, I ask, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. The contractions aren't too painful yet—" there's a long pause, in which I hear her suck in a few breaths, and I just know she's having a contraction, and I'm kicking myself because I can't be there with her— "Edward? Are you there?"

"Sorry, sorry! I'm just … I'm worried. Was that a contraction? How far apart are they?" I pace the hallway, tugging at my hair. I'm in the OB ward, coincidentally, which is pretty slow today.

"They're not super regular yet. Shit, they're probably those Braxton-Hicks contractions, even though I've never had them before … I probably shouldn't have called, but they hurt."

"Of course you should have called! I'm going to have them page Dr. Brady to come in for the rest of my shift. Then I'm coming to get you." I promise. "Do you think you can wait about half an hour? An hour at most?"

"The shortest interval between contractions has been about fifteen minutes, and that was one time. I think Baby will stay put for that long," she says with a little laugh.

"She'd better. I don't want you riding to the hospital in an ambulance."

"I could always call Emmett," she jokes.

"I take it back—I'd rather you rode in the ambulance," I say flatly. Emmett drives like I used to.

"We'll be fine," Bella promises softly. "Page Dr. Brady and then come and get us."

How is it that she manages to be the calm one in this situation? She's the one that will be pushing a baby out.

"I love you," I tell her, wishing she was already here and safe. It's killing me, knowing she's alone and vulnerable, and probably in pain.

"I love you, too. Now stop worrying and get over here."

"Yes, Ma'am," I respond with a laugh, then end the call.

I apprise my boss of the situation and then page Dr. Brady who, luckily, says she'll be here in fifteen minutes.

They're the slowest fifteen minutes in history. When she walks onto the floor three minutes late, I'm a wreck. She takes one look at me and laughs. "Go get your wife," she instructs, pointing in the direction of the elevators. I don't even hesitate; the only reason I hit the lockers on the way is because I need my car keys. All in all, I'm opening my front door within forty-five minutes of Bella's call.

"Bella? Love?" She's not in the living room or kitchen, and when I can't find her in the bedroom either, I start to panic. "Bell?"

"In here," she finally calls, and I realize she's in the nursery.

I find her sitting in the glider my mother bought for us, calmly rocking back and forth, Jake laid out next to the chair. She's somehow the picture of serenity, and I'm sure I resemble a fucked up crayon drawing of craziness. I rush to her and kneel, putting my hand on her belly, pressing a kiss to her lips.

"How are you feeling?"

"Good. I only had one contraction while you were gone … we might be waiting here for a while."

"That's absolutely fine with me, as long as you and baby are okay. Have you called Dr. Eleazar?"

"Yeah. She wants us to head to the hospital when the contractions are about ten minutes apart, or if my water breaks, and call her from there."

"Sounds like a plan." A plan I don't particularly like. If I had my way, we'd be on the way back to the hospital right the fuck now. I realize I'm being irrational; I know how these things work—I'm a regular in the OB ward. But this is my wife and baby, damn it. I want to hedge my bets.

"I'm glad you're here—" Bella starts, then grabs her belly and hisses. I'm speechless as she breathes through the pain, my own gut twisting with anxiety. I'm so not on board with my wife being in pain. Guess I should have thought of that before I knocked her up. But I have to put that out of my mind, because our daughter will be here soon.

"What can I do?" I ask when she relaxes, after what seems like an eternity but is probably less than thirty seconds.

"My back is killing me. Maybe you could rub it?" She pulls her phone from her pocket and checks the time. "That was about fifteen minutes."

I nod rapidly, before checking my watch so I can begin my own timing. A little redundancy can't hurt in this situation. Hopping to my feet, I hold out a hand to help Bella up. We move to the living room, where we situate ourselves on the couch, her back to me so I can try and massage away her pain.

I brush her hair away, tucking it over her shoulder, and drag my hands down to her lower back, savoring the feel of her body beneath my fingers. I'll enjoy this just as much as she will.

"Better?" I ask softly, enjoying her relieved sighs and tiny moans of appreciation.

"A little. You've got good hands, Doctor."

"So I'm told."

Bella shoots me an amused look over her shoulder. "By whom?"

"This gorgeous woman I live with. She's pretty great."

"Oh, she is? Tell me more," she says, laughing as she leans back into my touch.

"Well, let's see … she's beautiful and smart. She's funny, with a razor-sharp tongue. She's loving and kind, and she's giving me the most wonderful gift I've ever received…" I look up from watching my hands to find her watching me over her shoulder, eyes misty.

"You're kinda great, you know."

"Good, 'cause my hands are getting tired." I smirk at her, but keep rubbing.

"You're not done yet, buddy," she starts, but then hunches over with a sharp intake of breath. "Ow, ow, ow…"

I immediately check my watch, eyes bugging out as I see the time. "That was only eight minutes," I bark out, making a plan in my head. "We need the bag. We need the bag!"

"Edward, it was only one contraction," she protests after the contraction is gone.

Bella is looking at me like I'm a crazy person, and maybe she's right. Because I'm suddenly terrified my wife is going to have to give birth to our daughter right here on our living room rug. Needing to do something, I run and grab the hospital bag from the closet, then dump it next to the front door.

"I need a bag. I'm gonna go throw some stuff in a duffel. You'll be okay for like two minutes, right?" The words are rapid fire, and I can't stop them. I can't stop the panic. But as soon as I get my physical shit together, I can work on getting my mental shit together. Then I can help my wife.

She just looks at me, eyes wide, and nods slowly, like she's trying to placate the crazy man. I rush off to the bedroom and quickly pack a few things. Who knows what I forgot. I pull and tug at my hair, trying to remember what else I need. I give up and carry my duffel out to place it next to Bella's bag.

She's still on the couch, watching me warily, but doesn't seem to be in any pain.

"Are you okay?" I ask, making great effort to sound as calm as possible.

She nods. "I'm fine. I really think we should wait a bit longer before leaving. That one could have been a fluke and I don't want to spend more time at the hospital than we have to. I'd like to labor at home as long as possible."

I sink to my knees before her. "I understand … but I'm really nervous about this. I want you and Baby in the hospital where you're safe."

A small smirk flits across her features. "Women have home births all the time."

I feel the blood drain from my face. "We're not seriously going to talk about this now? You haven't expressed any interest in a home birth during this whole pregnancy." I'm going to be bald before this night is over, I know it.

Laughing, Bella shakes her head. "No, but it was funny to see that vein pop out on your forehead."

"I'm glad my stress amuses you," I say wryly, taking comfort in the fact that if my wife is teasing me, she's feeling like her normal self. "Let's go, please?" I'm not above begging.

She sighs. "All right. But I reserve the right to say 'I told you so'."

"Of course. Wasn't that in the wedding vows?" I get to my feet and hold out a hand to help her up.

"Good one. I knew there was a reason I married you."

I drop a kiss on her lips. "Because your twelve-year-old self dreamed of it?"

"Shut up!" she giggles, but then tenses up. Putting her hands on my shoulders, she leans into me. I can't get a good look at my watch because I'm too busy holding her, but I know now it's definitely time to get to the damn hospital.

When it's over, I check to find it's been nine minutes since the last one.

"We're leaving," I say decisively, guiding her to the front door.

"Wait—what if my water breaks in your car? We need a towel."

"That's why we're taking yours."

"We still need the towel!"

"Stay put." Like a good husband, I rush off to find a towel.

"Like I'm going anywhere without you!" she calls after me. I think I hear something like "stupid jerkface" after that, but I choose to chalk it up to pregnancy hormones.

.

x

.

Bella isn't happy with me when we reach the hospital and are told we need to walk the halls for a while before she can be admitted.

"I told you I could have labored at home," she growls through clenched teeth.

"I know, and I'm sorry. But this is so much safer," I reason.

"Not for you," she mumbles with a threatening look. A contraction hits and she uses me for support, fingers digging into my shoulders as she lays her forehead on my chest.

I decide it's in my best interests to keep my mouth shut, since my wife is mad at me and in pain. That's never a good equation for any husband, ever. When the contraction is over, we resume our walking in silence.

But eventually, I can't take it. I hate it when she's irritated with me. "It's just … I worry, you know? I want to keep you and Baby safe, and the hospital is the best place to do that."

"I know," she says grudgingly, as we make another circuit of the OB ward.

"I love you."

"And I love you, you overprotective know-it-all." The tiniest of smiles graces her lips, and I just have to kiss her.

She pulls back with a hiss, her hands going back to my shoulders and digging in. She really sags against me, trying to breathe deep through the pain. Once it subsides, I check my watch.

"Five minutes between the last two. Let's check with the triage nurse and see if we can get you admitted, and we can call Dr. Eleazar again."

This time, we get a room. We get settled in, and Bella's contractions fluctuate between 5-10 minutes apart. Dr. Eleazar makes an appearance, does an exam, and pronounces Bella dilated enough for an epidural if she wants one.

"I'm not consulting on this one," I joke, holding up my hands.

Bella rolls her eyes. "This is why you're a doctor, not a comedian."

"Hey—I earn plenty of smiles. The good drugs do that."

"I don't doubt it. But I think I'll hold off for now. I want to be able to move around."

"That's fine, Bella," Dr. Eleazar says. "Edward can page anesthesiology if you change your mind."

"One of the perks of having a husband on staff." I waggle my eyebrows.

"He still thinks he's a comedian."

Dr. Eleazar laughs, shaking her head. "I'll be back to check on you in a little while. Bella, you're doing great."

We pace the room and use the birthing ball for a while, until Bella's water finally breaks. Through it all, she takes the pain like a champ, but once her water is broken, it seems to get the best of her.

"Edward?" she asks, after a particularly difficult contraction, one in which she tries to crush every bone in my hand, "I think I want one."

She doesn't even have to explain. Seeing her in pain has been eating at me all night. I call for a nurse to check her and then page anesthesiology. Once it's determined that Bella's not too far along for an epidural, it's over in a matter of minutes, and she's feeling worlds better.

It's still another couple hours before things get really close. At least she's feeling no pain. Another nurse comes in to do a cervical check, and declares, "We're having a baby soon—almost ten centimeters and I can feel the head."

The room gets busier. Bella looks entirely too calm for someone about to push a baby out of her body. Things go silent for me as I watch the nurses set up the warmer and break down the bed for birth. It hits me then, really hits me—I'm going to be someone's father. I'll have someone to protect and teach and guide; I'm responsible for helping raise a productive member of society. My vision goes dark at the edges and my chest gets tight. Bella's saying something to me, but it's like I've lost the ability to understand English.

Oh, shit—I'm going down.

.

x

.

I wake up to no less than four nurses laughing down at me.

"Somebody get a pillow! Dr. Cullen wanted to take a nap!" one cackles. I think she's our charge nurse; she looks familiar. It's all kind of blurry from down here, though the laughter seems to be coming from every direction. I should be able to remember who these people are, but my brain is fuzzy.

"Where's my wife?" I reach up and probe at the sore spot on the back of my skull.

"Up here, you big doofus," I hear Bella call down to me. Why does she sound so far away? At least she sounds happy. She's laughing, too.

"Why am I down here?"

The cackling begins again, only louder this time.

"We have some bad news, Dr. Cullen—" Nurse One starts, but panic has me interrupting.

"Bella! Bella! You're fine, right? What's—" I try to leap to my feet, but my body doesn't seem to want to work right and my brain is dizzy.

"I'm fine," Bella calls, and she's still laughing. Why is everything so funny?

"Perhaps I shouldn't have used that particular phrase," the nurse amends.

"Will someone please just tell me what's going on?" I look up at everyone, and they all seem to be silently arguing over who gets to tell me.

In the end, it's my wife who does the honors. "You passed out, Doctor."

"Has she been born? I didn't miss it, did I? Oh, God, you're gonna kill me—"

Bella can't seem to stop giggling. "No, you didn't miss it, you lunatic. They started breaking down the bed for the birth, and it was lights out."

Finally, my body cooperates and I'm able to sit up. The circle of onlookers backs up as they see I'm capable of sitting on my own. Bella is propped up in the bed, looking too blissful for a woman in transitional labor, and it's then I remember. "Fuck," I breathe, "I passed out."

"Bingo," says one of the nurses, and they all laugh again.

"How long was I out?"

"Only a minute or two," another nurse supplies.

"Thanks for helping me up, by the way." I'm ignored by everyone but my saintly wife.

"I would've helped you if I could walk," Bella says helpfully.

Dr. Eleazar waltzes through the door, a mile-wide smile on her face. "I had to see it for myself."

With a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, I force myself to my feet and stagger over to Bella's bedside, where I slump into the chair. "The whole hospital knows, I assume?" Strangely, I don't care. I can handle the hazing. I'm just relieved I didn't miss anything.

"They announced it over the intercom," Dr. Eleazar says with a barely straight face.

I roll my eyes. "Hospital gossip is faster than that."

"Will someone please check him out?" Bella asks, finally serious.

"I'm fine. Are you okay?"

"I'm great," she says with a big, dopey smile. She points to the screen monitoring her contractions. "Look at that! It's a big one."

"I don't know what happened … I think it all just hit me at once. I mean, she's almost here. You're about to give birth, and I can't do anything but stand by and watch. I need to help you and I don't know how…"

Dr. Eleazar interrupts. "You can help by taking your place right up there by Bella's head, Edward. Let's start there, because it's just about showtime." She's all business now. "Bella, how are you feeling?"

"Lots of pressure … I feel like I need to push."

Another wave of unsteadiness hits me, but I manage to keep it under wraps. This is happening. I settle in at Bella's side, grasping her hand. I press a kiss to her forehead, beaming when she smiles up at me.

"Let's have a baby," she whispers, and I have to kiss her for real, because what I feel in this moment? There's no other outlet for something this big. What I feel for her, and our baby, is bigger than everything.

I'm ready. We're ready.

Things progress quickly, and before I know it, they're laying a perfect, screaming baby girl on Bella's chest. Tears stream down Bella's face, and I feel my own eyes stinging. But my smile—my smile might split my face.

"Would you like to cut the cord?" Dr. Eleazar asks, and of course, I do, then I'm right back up at Bella's side.

The baby has stopped crying, and she's blinking up at Bella in wonder. I've never seen a more beautiful sight, even if my daughter is covered in goo. Even so, I can make out wispy brown curls, and I'm pretty sure she has Bella's chin. It looks like I might get my wish for a sweet little girl who looks just like her mother.

Also, I was right. We won't get into it right now, but … I was so right.

"Look what we did," I murmur, reaching out to gently stroke her little cheek.

"I did all the work," Bella jokes, making me laugh. It startles the baby; her eyes go wide and then her little mouth scrunches up like she might cry, but she never does.

"You did amazing, love." I lean up to kiss Bella's cheek, but she turns and I get her mouth. "Thank you," I whisper against her lips. Pulling back, I look into her beautiful eyes. "You … the baby … you're the most amazing gifts. I love you both so much."

"We love you, too, Daddy."

The nurse comes to get our girl so she can clean her. I can tell Bella doesn't want to give her up.

"It's just a few minutes, love."

"I don't want to give her up for even that long." Tears well up in Bella's eyes again, and I brush them away when they spill over.

"Her name … do you think it fits?"

She nods. "I do. You know, it's a good thing she's not a boy. We didn't even pick any boy names."

"That's because you knew I was right all along."

"All right, all knowing one. You're right."

"I can't believe you admitted it," I say with a laugh.

"Back to the subject at hand." She points at me.

I look over to where the nurse is finishing up with our daughter. She wraps her up in a tight swaddle and fits one of those little beanies on her head, then brings her back to us.

"Would you like to hold her, Dad?" she asks.

"Make sure he sits down first," Bella jokes.

I scowl. "I'm fine." But I sit down anyway. I'm pretty sure I'm fine, but I don't want to chance it. The nurse places her in my arms, and I peer down at her sleepy face. "Hello, Riley," I whisper, cradling her to my chest. "Daddy loves you." I look up at Bella. "I can't believe she's here." It's hard to speak past the knot in my throat.

"Riley Elizabeth Cullen." Bella smiles at us. "You look good with a baby, Edward."

I grin at her, but my eyes are drawn right back to the bundle in my arms. There's nothing I wouldn't do for this tiny little person, and the woman who gave her to me. Riley starts to grunt and squirm, then turns her little head toward my chest.

"I think she's hungry. She's rooting."

A nurse appears out of what seems like nowhere to help Bella get ready to breastfeed. When she's ready, I rise and gingerly transfer Riley into her mother's arms. The nurse disappears as mother and daughter get the hang of it, and I'm left to witness what seems like a miracle to me. My wife, my daughter … I'm a dad now. It's my job to support and look after these two very special people. It's an overwhelming, yet utterly satisfying feeling.

After a while, Riley falls asleep, and Bella looks at me with sleepy eyes. It's the middle of the night, but I'm wide awake.

"I can hold her if you'd like to sleep," I whisper. "I'm not tired."

"I'd guess not. Not with the nap you took earlier." Bella gives me a mischievous smile and raises a brow.

"Am I ever going to live that down?"

"Nope." She shakes her head.

"Don't you love me?"

"So much … but I still can't let that one slide," she laughs.

I let out an exaggerated sigh. "Fair enough."

"One more thing."

"Oh, no. Did I say something embarrassing while I was out?"

Shaking her head, she says with a big smile, "Nope, but it might be just as bad … you're the one who gets to call the family."

My eyes widen. "Shit! We never called anyone!"

"Because that's exactly how I wanted it," Bella laughs.

"They're going to be pissed, and they'll take it out on me." This is going to suck.

"Payback, Edward. That's for spilling the beans about me getting arrested," Bella says with a wink.

She's right—again. But I'll do it, and gladly. I'll do anything for Bella and our baby girl. They're my life now.

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I might add more futuretakes as my muse allows. They probably won't be in any particular order, since my muse is flaky.

This story is nominated for top 10 completed fics for the month of September over at twifanfictionrecs dot com. You can vote every day until Halloween. So many good fics on the list, but I'd love it if you'd give I Dare You a vote.

Thank you for reading.