Mike Newton was, by definition, normal. His name was normal, his wife's name was normal. He made a normal salary running a normal sport supply store in the relatively normal town of Forks, Washington. He had a normal-sized house and car, standard American fare. Two bedrooms, a finished basement, and room for expansion; Mike wanted children quite badly. And Mike Newton was perfectly happy with normalcy. It was all he wanted and all he really needed to fulfill his idea of happiness.

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Bella Newton (née swan) was also perfectly normal. She lived with her husband on a cul-de-sac in Forks. Her little white house bordered the deep, navy-blue forest that towered over the tiny town and the nearby Quileute reservation. Her father, then a retired police chief, lived a ten minute drive away. Mike was hoping that a baby would soon be on the way, completing their normal happiness. Bella's thoughts on the matter were far less enthusiastic.

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Bella flipped lazily through old wedding photos. It was still hard to resist cringing when she came across the pictures where the camera caught the wine stain on her dress or the place she ripped it along the hem when she fell. Couldn't her clumsiness suppress itself on her wedding day? Dinner was finished. The laundry was done. Dusting could wait until another day. She could visit Mike at work for lunch, maybe drop off something warm for him to eat. But the mood wasn't striking her.

Bella was bored. At first, she was looking forward to an easy life of caring for future children and maintaining a home. But she didn't realize how monotonous it would be. Under the calm and accepting mask she wore, Bella knew that clean dishes and a mowed lawn weren't her first real dream, the dream that blossomed when she was seventeen, and shriveled and died when she was eighteen. Compared to the dazzling brilliancy and overpowering strength of that dream, a life in Forks with Mike Newton didn't compare.

She flipped a page in the generic wedding album. Smiles. White silk. A standard shot of the happy couple, flanked by their parents. Wide, white grins and crisp, rented tuxedoes. They were now both twenty-two years old, already settled in for the rest of their lives.

It had been four years since Bella had seen Edward Cullen. Thinking of him still felt like poking a permanent bruise on her heart. The nostalgic sense of heartache didn't ease with the years. Because she knew that with each year that passed, Mike's love for her would hold steady, Bella would get closer to old age, and Edward would still be seventeen, glowing with perfect beauty and immortality.

Sometimes, the romantic side of Bella would imagine Edward lurking in the forest, his eyes, keener than those of any animal on the planet, fixed firmly on her. She was somehow convinced that he would keep track of her forever, so that he could end her life a little after her. Her rational side would, of course, brush these nagging feelings aside.

And yet, late at night, she would wake up in a warm and comfortable haze, bliss unlike anything this married life could offer. She wouldn't remember the dream in any detail, but the name Cullen was always on her lips. Sometimes, she would whisper it out loud, just to stop it from echoing around her mind, to stop the perfect sound from nudging against her lips so persistently. Cullen, Cullen, Cullen. Edward.

God-fucking-dammit.

Bella flipped another page in the wedding album. Jacob Black stood with the bride and groom in what had to be the biggest tux on earth, since it fit his body so perfectly. Broad-shouldered, muscular, and incredibly tall, Jacob's warm, russet-colored hand rested on Samantha Burrow's hip. Samantha was another girl from Jacob's tribe. Beautiful, and curved dramatically in the right places, she looked like a Quileute princess by his side. Damn imprinting. Though the heartache over Jacob was far less extreme, it completed Bella's isolation from her former identity.

That, in a word, was what Bella felt more than anything. Isolation. Loneliness. Because nobody could ever be trusted with the fact that "Bella Sw—er, Newton" still wanted desperately to be "Bella Cullen."

It was one of those extraordinarily rare days when the sun shone in the Newtons' backyard. Bella looked out at the bright grass from the living room window. Today was one of her crazy, restless days. Part of her, the insane part, of course, was simply positive that Edward was up somewhere in a treetop, several miles away, watching her through the window.

Oh how sad, Bella thought acidly, scolding herself. How deliriously sad that you're having delusions about a vampire from four years ago. The very nature of his being; Cold One, vampire, bloodsucker, freak, whatever, was starting to blur around the edges. Bella was beginning to convince herself that Edward Cullen was a normal boy with a skin condition and that she herself was an abnormal teenager with an overactive imagination. However, she couldn't quite bring herself to let go of the memories and conceptions about vampires—she knew that she hadn't made up any part of Edward. She realized that her mind was only trying to assuage the heartbreak that wouldn't heal.

As the battle between imagination and reality struck up again in her head, Bella was overcome by a sense of anger. How dare Edward just leave her to rot in her own insanity? How could he allow her to slowly pick apart her own memories, tainting their sweetness with doubt? How could he leave her so debilitated and hurt that she could never, not even in her dreams, escape him?

She stomped outside into the center of the grassy lawn. Why did Edward have to fall in love with her? Wouldn't it be easier for her never to have known the blinding, violent, irrevocable, uncontrollable, untamed love that she once felt, to make this monotonous life more livable?

'Better to have loved and lost,' my ass.

"Edward." Yes, she was speaking, well, whispering, to the forest. She was speaking to an entity she knew, deep down, would never answer. "Edward, you better not be out there, fucking with me." Tears welled up in her eyes, despite her fury. "You better not be watching me. You don't get to continue to see me while I have to cuddle up to Mike at night." The words sounded bitter and cruel, not to mention that they were untrue. Nobody forced her to marry Mike, and her repulsion toward him was mostly fueled by anger. Plus, she adored the notion that Edward was looking out for her. She loved that idea more than anything else—it kept her sane during sleepless nights and tedious days. "Come out, you coward!" she whispered.

The tears spilled over, and Bella collapsed onto her knees. Emotion took control of her completely, and she couldn't remain standing. Though her weeping was silent, her hands shook uncontrollably. She trembled all over. "Come out. I want to see your face again. I have to see you one more time." Her pleading turned desperate, the tears running over her cheeks and down her chin in an ironic heart shape. "You owe me, dammit. You owe me. You owe me for turning me into this. You owe me for leaving me." It was easy to speak the long-repressed truths when there was no face to speak them to. There was only forest; the trees that chirped and cracked and whistled softly in response. "I am still,"—her voice cracked and she sobbed loudly—"completely, and totally, without a doubt, in love with you."

Bella bit her tongue to keep from sobbing, or screaming, both viable options at the moment. As silent tears streamed down her cheeks unrelentingly, unchecked, she heard something from the forest. Inconsequential, soft. It could have been a bird taking off, nicking a few leaves as it went. And yet, Bella was sure. It was the sound of a vampire jumping off a tree's highest branch. She could even make out the low, tiny thud an immortal's feet would make against the moist earth.

Hope swelled in Bella's bruised and battered heart so that it almost cracked a few of her ribs. She squeezed the remaining tears from her eyes and blinked, staring straight at the point where she knew he would emerge. Yes, yes, she could hear his footsteps approaching. He wasn't being cautious, breaking a few twigs along the way. But Bella was sure, so sure. Her heart beat in her ears. Excitement prickled in the form of liquid warmth over her skin. Relief. She would no longer be alone.

There. She could make out a silhouette, approaching with timid grace, dark but not foreboding in the forest.

"Edward," Bella gasped.

And then it emerged. A beautiful doe stepped into the sunlight, and then, as though startled by Bella's shocked gasp, leaped away.

Bella stared straight ahead. Crushed. Heartbroken all over again. Convinced she was crazy. She didn't attempt to hide her sobbing now, and it broke from between her ribs in deep, painful bursts. Bella curled up into a ball with her nose in the grass. She hadn't allowed herself to cry over Edward since the wretched day of her nineteenth birthday. Since then, she had been repressing her grief in a tightly-wound ball that she locked deep within her heart. Now, the carefully-tightened orb was unfurling full force, refusing to get back into its cage, diffusing slowly through her tears.

How had she been stupid enough to get her hopes up again? How had she gotten ahead of herself so quickly and easily? She couldn't move, not a single muscle could dare twitch. Only her chest, rising and falling, and her eyes, squeezing out tears, dared shift. She was completely wrecked, emotionally. Life and death and love and hate all meant nothing, just words, just little wispy clouds of nothing that floated uncaringly and out of reach about the giant, crushing grief that hit her in tormenting waves. This would never let up. She was sure of it. She was drowning. She was surely drowning in her own sorrow and heartbreak. Slowly, painfully. For the rest of her life, she would be in a constant state of drowning, because Edward Cullen was a memory of first love, blindingly pure but fleeting. And he would never, ever, come back. Her epitaph would read: "Bella Newton: Beloved Wife and Mother."

And yet, though awareness of it only came slowly through the sea of sorrow, Bella realized bit by bit that a set of strong, cold hands were gripping her forearms firmly, though gently. Blinded by her own tears, she barely noticed that she had been lifted off the ground, crying like a child. And then, after minutes or hours or God knows how long, Bella's eyes opened.

And there was Edward. Bella's heart accelerated past healthy levels and her breathing stopped completely. Every breathtaking angle of his face, the perfect, crystal clarity of his features, the endless, buttery softness of his golden eyes. He stood in the middle of her lawn, aflame with brilliant sparkles. He was the most precious gem in the universe, holding her finally in his arms, a look of unbearable regret in his eyes, his jaw set with the grief that hardened him.

"You're not real," Bella gasped, refusing to believe what was happening. "I'm hallucinating." She felt emotionally exhausted, drained completely. "You're not real." her voice was so soft, she barely heard it. Though it took almost all her strength, she placed her hands on Edward's shoulders and pushed with everything she had left. Her efforts wouldn't have felt like a real push even to a human. "Go away. I know you're just pretend."

A tiny smile cracked across Edward's smooth, pale lips, pressing a bit of life into his sculpted jaw and cheekbones. A trickle of joy wound its way into the deep relief and regret in his eyes. He was amused. "I'm real," he whispered, as though trying to believe it himself. "I'm real. You're real. You're here. We're together," he chanted.

"No…" Bella groaned weakly. She tried to push at his shoulders again with the force of a tired kitten.

Edward frowned, the smile fading. His endless gold eyes bored into her. She felt like she was swimming in their depths, though it wasn't a stranded, drowning sort of swimming. Though still reluctant to believe that Edward really was there, Bella felt that she could breathe in this liquid. She could breathe for the first time in four years.

And that was when it hit her. There was no slow realization, no steady awareness. It came to her as a sudden jolt. This was real. He was there. Bella's strength returned abruptly. "Edward. Edward!" Her heartbeat tripled and her mind was thrown into frenzy. Edward, Edward, Edward. Edward.

Edward let her go almost immediately, lowering her to the ground gingerly. As soon as she was free, her arms wound around his neck, his around her waist. His arms were still cold and hard, muscular and dazzling in the sun. His breath came in ragged, excited bursts, hitting her neck. Bella inhaled the familiar cool, sweet scent of him, submerging herself in the feel of his embrace. This was something no dream could bring about. The pure intensity and clarity of this moment was ecstasy. Bella's heart sang; her every nerve trembled under her skin. Her brain was electrified. No other being in the universe, in all of existence could make her feel like this. This was salvation.

"I knew you were watching. I knew it," Bella babbled hysterically. "You were at my wedding. I remember—I caught a shadow and I could swear it was you. It was you, wasn't it?"

"Yes. Yes," Edward murmured into her hair. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry—"

"You should be," Bella interrupted, though she made no move to disentangle herself from his embrace.

"I know. I'll never, in my entire existence, make it up to you for what I've done. The words I'm sorry can't even begin to cover the relentless regret I've lived under for these four years—"

It was Edward's turn to babble, and Bella knew the perfect way to stop his mournful, and slightly overdramatic, speech. His cold, pale pink lips, which moved frantically against her warm hair, were suddenly on hers. She kissed him hard, forcing the rest of his breath rushing out through his nose.

His statue's arms were wrapped tightly around her, crushing her with gentle force against his chest as his lips welcomed hers. Edward was warm in ways that Mike wasn't—what he lacked in physical warmth Bella made up for with the energy generated from her hummingbird heartbeat.

Edward's lips molded against hers, smooth and perfect, and he kissed her wantonly in the Newton backyard.

Bella tentatively ran her tongue over his, tasting something she had been missing for years. Edward's lips parted gently, and his tongue probed softly inside her mouth. The venom on his tongue tasted sweet and heady, almost alcoholic. Her tongue met his slowly as the kiss progressed.

Bella felt lightheaded. If Edward told her that she was floating, she would believe it, because she couldn't feel her feet against the ground. She couldn't feel anything except Edward's arms and lips, his hands and his chest. The world was shrinking very rapidly, spiraling inward in dizzying circles, compressing itself into his body. She was a little dizzy, the events of the last few minutes hitting her over and over, overwhelming her heart.

Slowly, Bella became aware that she couldn't feel his touch anymore, that her limbs were numb completely. Edward's breathing sounded like a loud whooshing in her ears. And then everything was gone.

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"Bella? Bella?" Edward's velvet, worried voice called her back to life.

Bella opened her eyes as though awakening from a deep sleep.

"What happened?" she asked. She didn't feel any pain or discomfort, aside from a bit of dizziness, and yet she couldn't remember how that kiss had ended, or how she got to her couch. She felt something cold on her forehead, and then realized it was the back of Edward's hand.

Edward sniggered. "You passed out." There was an edge of pride to his voice; Bella knew he was glad he could have that affect over her.

Bella sat up, smiling at the fragility of her own mind. She took a handful of the front of Edward's shirt in her fist, pulling him toward her.

"Where were we?" she breathed, knowing very well how cliché it sounded.

Edward's warm smile met her lips, and again she was thrown into his world, floating in the molten, golden ecstasy of his touch. Without releasing his shirt, she lay down against the sofa's armrest, pulling him down with her.

Edward responded eagerly, leaning into the kiss, pouring years of repressed passion into her.

Bella's hands ran over the smooth skin under his shirt, touching his back and his chiseled chest. Edward shuddered and threw his shirt away within a second. His fingers began flicking open the buttons on her blouse without glancing down. He pushed the cotton aside and grabbed one of her soft breasts through her bra.

His cold, eager touch made Bella shudder. One of her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. She could feel something big and hard make contact with her thigh.

And then his touch was gone again, just as quickly as the last time. Before Bella could hold him back, he was reclining against the opposite end of the couch, a deep frown between his eyes.

"You're married," Edward whispered, his golden eyes, so full of conflict, burning into hers.

Bella panted, trying to catch her breath. He was right. All thoughts of Mike had fled her mind, but he was right. And yet, how could he possibly deny her when all she wanted for so many years was him?

She fingers shuffled through his soft, bronze hair, brown eyes boring deep into gold.

"I don't care," she whispered. A shiver of regret for the cold statement echoed through her, but it was only a shadow of doubt, fleeting and insignificant in the ocean of Edward's presence. "They're my sins," Bella argued. "I have to live with them, not you."

She attempted to pull him closer, but he held back.

"I can't let you do it," he said softly. His lips were centimeters from hers, and he kept glancing down at her mouth. His words held little resolve or meaning when he wouldn't even pull back.

Bella ran her hands over the back of his neck and down over his statue's chest. Edward groaned softly deep in his throat. A frown began forming above his perfect eyebrows, conflict burning deep into his amber eyes.

Bella could see the effect she was having on Edward, and she decided to push her luck. She would do anything to keep him there, close to her, kissing her, removing her clothes…

She slipped her shirt first off one shoulder, and then the other, slipping it off her smooth skin. Edward's sharp eyes followed her every movement, engrossed. Bella leaned back against the armrest of the couch and reached out a hand to him in a childlike gesture.

"Come on," she whimpered, ready for the sting of rejection should it strike.

But it didn't. Instead, Edward's hard lips attacked hers. His fingers found the clasp of her bra and made quick work of it, casting it aside. His icy fingers brushed over her nipples, hardening them to tightened peaks. Bella moaned softly into his mouth, clutching him closer to herself.

Edward kissed down the complex network of tendons and muscles and nerves along her neck, pausing at the sensitive places where the rush of her blood was the hardest. His mouth and tongue quickly began to warm up from the close contact to her, and the venom he spread out over her skin felt cool at first, and then warm and tingly, a little like external vodka.

Edward's lips closed over one of Bella's nipples, his other fingers twisting the other gently, teasing her.

His skilled mouth moved lower, kissing over her abdomen, down to the edge of her jeans.

Bella shivered. She looked down at Edward as he unfastened the button and pulled down her fly, easing the jeans off her slowly. The fabric scraped over her legs at an agonizing pace. She burned to have them completely removed and wriggled underneath him. Though he tried to hide it, Bella noticed the coy smile that spread over Edward's face.

Soft tingles ran over Bella's legs. Underneath simple white panties, she ached unbearably, more than she ever could for Mike. She felt so vulnerable with Edward directly between her legs, his cool breathing irregular against her thigh. It was so sensual and close and passionate that she was overwhelmed.

Edward's eyes were completely glazed over with something Bella had never seen so deeply in their amber depths: lust. He looked up at her, gazing deeply into her eyes as his fingers curled over her panties, easing them down at an agonizing rate.

As Bella's flushed, desperate skin became exposed to the air, she shivered in heavy anticipation, gripping the pillow her head rested against.

Edward placed a feathery, light kiss on the inside of Bella's knee, moving up toward her thigh. Bella allowed her head to lie back against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling, waiting in agonizing expectation.

He parted her slowly, making Bella gasp. "Edward," she whispered, begging him.

Edward lowered his mouth to her and placed a long, slow lick along the inside of her thigh, right where the line of her underwear would have been. Bella shivered. She couldn't believe that he would tease her like that. His venom burned in the most pleasurable way possible.

His tongue stroked her lightly at first, purposely avoiding the hard, slick bundle of nerves at her center. Venom heated up against her sensitive skin, though not painfully. It was warm and it tingled. Bella moaned loudly, and Edward caught her clitoris with his tongue, making that magical contact for the first time

Bella's mouth made a tiny sound, something that sounded like "Ah," as her body rose up off the couch, closer to him. Her muscles were tight and stiff. She trembled slightly. Edward swirled his tongue, essentially electrocuting her.

Apparently, immortality allows for lots of practice. Edward dipped two fingers into her, pressing insistently. Bella felt his breath hitch, then quicken against her as he felt her tight heat. She knew she would hold out for a few more seconds at best before release would overwhelm her, but still she tried to push the tide back as far as possible, to enjoy the newfound feeling for just a little longer. His tongue twisted perfectly, and Bella was gone.

She was on fire, calling out his name loudly as her orgasm shook her, sending violent waves of pleasure curling over her. Bella lost her sight for a moment; she was completely unaware that she was even alive, until her shaking subsided and she realized that her fists were still tightly clenched around the fabric of the pillow.

She opened her eyes slowly to find Edward hovering above her, bottom lip between his teeth to hide his triumphant smirk.

"I've waiting for far too long to see you do that," he murmured. Bella blushed deeply.

She reached up and stroked his cheek with one of her trembling hands. Edward angled his face suddenly so he could kiss the inside of her palm.

"Edward," Bella said softly. "I want you."

Edward's breathing increased tenfold. He removed his jeans and boxers in a sloppy scramble. Bella glanced down quickly at his member and her breathing hitched. She forced herself to look away, though obviously not quick enough; Edward smirked crookedly as he kicked his clothing away.

He positioned himself over her, careful not to put too much weight on her, staring straight into her eyes.

"You ready?" he breathed.

"Yes," Bella panted, her fingers tangling in his hair. Butterflies stirred in her stomach. Joy thudded thickly through her heart. She was ready since she was seventeen.

He began pushing into her, slowly. Edward was definitely bigger than Mike in every dimension, and so the sensation was a bit stretching, though not painful. It felt good. Just thinking that this was Edward, her Edward, was enough. He slid into her, panting heavily into her hair, until their hips met.

"You okay?" Edward rasped.

Bella nodded, too focused on the feeling to find words. "Keep going," she begged in a whisper.

Edward pulled out very slightly and pushed back into her. Pleasure began to build up in her again.

Edward pushed in again, grunting softly. His breath hit her neck in bursts.

They established a rhythm, slow at first, bodies moving together to form a slow, syrupy pleasure below Bella's bellybutton.

One of Edward's hands gripped her hip gently, his lips pressed against her neck. A thin film of sweat began forming over Bella' skin. She curled one leg around his hip as he thrust deeper into her.

Bella moaned as another orgasm began forming inside her. Edward's hard body kept up its quick rhythm, his lips kissing her collarbones softly.

She felt her orgasm take over, shaking her head to foot, soaking her completely. She felt herself tightening around Edward, calling his name in a way she thought she never would get the chance to. Her arms tightened around him, holding on as though her life depended on it, and then suddenly she felt Edward come apart above her, shuddering very slightly and coming with a soft groan.

"Bella," he whispered.

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