I can't believe we are at the end of the road with these two. Thank you to everyone who continued to support me and this story. To everyone who stuck it out, this is for you. I hope you like

how our couple turned out.

I love you all!

Hey! Follow me on Twitter at lailabentz

Still isn't mine, but unfortunately the mistakes are.

15 years later…

"Nah uh!"

"Yeah huh!"

"Nah uh, nah uh, nah uh! Daddy said!"

"If neither one of you stop fighting, I'm packing up this game and giving it to charity!"

"You're not the boss of us, Evan."

"Yeah, Evan, we'll tell mom!"

I look over at my gorgeous wife and cock my eyebrow. Yeah, baby, it's your turn. "Oh no, Edward Cullen, those are your spawn. You deal with them." With that, she turns her head away from me and goes back to sleep.

Running my hand down my face, I let out an exasperated sigh as I kick my legs over the side of the bed. Eight o'clock in the morning is way too early to be dealing with this shit. I haphazardly pull on a pair to lounge pants, and quietly pad my way downstairs into the kid's playroom, pausing in the doorway to listen to the argument. Hey, parenthood has done nothing if it hasn't taught me to prepare myself before barging into a battle.

Leaning against the doorframe, I take a moment to admire the view of my precious angels, thanking God for bringing them into our lives. A lazy smile finds it's way to my lips even though they are being loud as hell at the crack of fucking dawn.

Emiliano Andres or "Milo" is our eight year old. He is the spitting image of his mother, feisty personality and all. He's all dark curls, big brown eyes and sweet smiles...that is until you piss him off. He's currently fighting off the baby. Little Emerson Avery. The apple of my eye. This four year old has the temper of a little tasmanian devil. She wants to use the guitar that Milo currently has draped across his body, and she's not above inflicting bodily harm. She's a little bully, with her mess of bronze curls, pink tutu and high-top chucks. To say that she is the boss of this house is an understatement of epic fucking proportions.

Then we have Elliot Aiden, our ten year old. He's the sweet one. Quiet and thoughtful, always with his nose in a book. And so damn smart. He looks over at me with those soulful hazel eyes and I feel it in my heart. His smile lights up a room. I hold my arms out to him and am grateful when he comes running. My sweet little boy. I scoop him up and hold him close, happy to have at least one cuddly child, even if he is long and gangly. At eight years old he doesn't really fit in my arms anymore, but I don't care as long as he lets me love on him, I'm more than happy to.

I carry Elliot into the room and take a seat next to Evan. My mini me. He's wearing an old Eclipse band tee and his hair is way too long, but I don't have it in my heart to tell him he doesn't really look as cool as he thinks he does. He looks up from his vintage Gibson acoustic and lifts his chin at me in a "what's up" motion, cocky smirk firmly in place. I cock my eyebrow adjusting Elliot across my lap when the buzzing of Evan's iPhone catches my attention. I pick it up to see four texts from Maggie, two texts from Charlotte, and one from Brianna. Like I said, mini me.

"You gonna answer these, or what?" I ask, tossing the phone at him.

"Nah, make 'em sweat it a bit." His green eyes are full of mischief as he chuckles and places his phone, face down, on the other side of his leg, going back to picking his scales. It doesn't escape my notice that he sets the phone far away from me. My talented son. I let my eyes drift back to the tug of war over guitar hero as I think about how conflicted I am about my eldest son's aspirations of becoming a rockstar. I know he's got the talent, but I'm not sure I want that life for him.

"Daddy!" Emmerson's sweet little voice breaks through my reverie as she shimmies her way onto my lap, effectively shoving Elliot out of the way. "Daddy, your hair is all crazy!" She giggles as she gestures her hands around her head wildly, honey colored eyes wide with bewilderment.

"So is yours, ladybug." I say, tugging one of her bronze curls that are currently a wild halo around her face. This kid has a serious case of bedhead. She just shrugs pushing her hair back and smacking an ill aimed kiss to my face before scurrying off my lap, in a hurry to get back to torturing her brother.

"Daddy, you said dats my guitar, right?" Emmerson asks as she yanks the shoulder strap of the custom silver Guitar Hero guitar Milo is currently using. "Emmy, no!" My son shoves her away without ever taking his eyes away from the game.

"Ladybug, stop being a bully."

"But, daddy!"

"Not everything belongs to you, ladybug."

"But Milo..."

"Emmerson Avery."

Cue epic fit, complete with impressive waterworks.

This is a typical day in the Cullen household and I wouldn't have it any other way.

By noon we've got everyone bathed, brushed and dressed and are heading out the door. We are headed to Los Angeles for the week for the Grammys with a side trip to Disneyland, of course.

Yes, Eclipse has still got it with six Grammy nominations and lifetime achievement award, but honestly, taking my little ladybug to Disneyland for the first time is what I'm really looking forward to.

Bella sets the house alarm and locks the door while I get all the luggage and kids into the waiting SUV. I turn around just as she starts making her way down the path toward me and I can't help the flutter I still get in my stomach. Yeah, call me a pussy, I don't give a fuck. She's still the most beautiful woman in the fucking universe to me.

A slow smirk graces deep red pouty lips when she catches me checking her out. But goddamn, those jeans. No one can wear a pair of jeans like my wife. My tongue slides over my bottom lip at the sight of her body.

Fucking goddess.

When she finally makes it to the car, she sidles right up against me, tangling her fingers into the hair at the back of my head.

"See something you like?" Her voice is sex and honey and she knows damn well that I do.

Little vixen.

I lean down capturing her perfect mouth with my own, tangling one of my hands into her long, dark, silky hair and letting my other hand drift down over that perfect ass, giving it a firm squeeze and a sharp slap. Evan honks the horn and we break apart laughing.

Fucking kids.

My wife is hot as hell, fucking sue me.

We enter our connecting suites at the Beverly Wilshire, in Beverly Hills and Bella immediately starts getting the kids settled in. She's an amazing mother. I'm such a lucky bastard, and I thank God everyday for bringing her to me.

It isn't long until Alec, Lizzie, Jacob, Leah, Seth, Jasper, Alice and Emmett, along with his new wife Kate, arrive effectively filling up all of the empty rooms. We have a rehearsal/run through tomorrow and the actual awards show on Sunday.

Once all of the Grammy shit is finished, we will spend Monday and Tuesday at Disneyland then Wednesday at the beach before heading home next Thursday. I've honestly been looking forward to the family vacation part of this trip for the last six months. It's been forever since we got away, just the six of us.

I stand in front of the bathroom mirror in my dark blue Dior tux and stare at the smattering of grey hair at my temples. There's only a few but I notice them. I'm proud of them. They make me feel like I've lived, liked I've earned them somehow.

I stroke the three day old stubble on my chin and smirk at my reflection, "Like a fine wine, Cullen."

"Are you finished admiring yourself, Ciccino?" My gorgeous wife asks from the doorway as she rolls her eyes at my narcissistic display. I lock eyes with her in the mirror briefly before whipping my head around to face her. My eyes practically bulge out of my head at the mere sight of her.

"Damn, baby." Is my brilliant reply, as I slowly rake my eyes down her sinful body. She's wearing a long, fitted, halter style leather gown with a plunging neckline and a high ass slit showing off one of her sexy as fuck legs.

Fucking Christ.

"You like?" She asks coyly as she turns ever so slowly to show me the back of the dress, flashing a sexy smile at me from over her shoulder.

Her ass. Sweet motherfucking Jesus, her perfectly round ass. Out of this fucking world. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Always."

Lizzie and Alec stay with the kids, so we consider the awards show our date night for the week. We chat up the reporters on the red carpet and pose for pictures. Bella talks about her dress and jewelry designers, normal boring red carpet bullshit.

It isn't until I'm called backstage before our performance that the nerves kick in. I've been doing this shit all my life and I still get nervous before I go on stage.

I have to admit that standing in the wings listening to one of the greatest musicians of all time stand in front of all of your peers and talk about your success and gush about how great you are is surreal. It's also nerve wracking as fuck. We are to perform first, then give our acceptance speech for the lifetime achievement award right after.

With a final deep breath, I adjust the shoulder strap of my guitar and rake my hands through my hair as I make my way on stage. My eyes immediately search out my lifeline and the moment I lock eyes with her everything is right again. She gives me life. She is everything.

We round out the montage with Faithfully, our biggest selling single of all time, and it couldn't be more fitting. Every time I sing it, I feel it's truth and conviction deep in my soul. And every time she hears me sing it live, she cries. It's like making love to her through music. No one will ever question my loyalty her. After sixteen years, and not a wavered glance at anyone else, she knows. She is my soulmate.

"Wow. This is truly an honor. We've had a long career surrounded by some of the most intriguing and talented musicians, so to counted among them is truly humbling. I'd like to thank everyone who made this possible, everyone who believed in us, and everyone who didn't. For those of you who didn't, made us work even harder.

I'd like to thank my Mother for always listening, my Father for instilling my love of music, my sister for being a pain in the ass, my kids, Daddy loves you guys. Please be good tonight...

And most importantly, I'd like to thank the love of my life, my wife, Bella. Baby, without you, none of this would even matter. You are the motivation behind everything I do. Thank you for the four precious gifts you've given me and for showing me a lifetime full of love. I'm forever yours."

With that last statement, I place my hand over my heart and she mirrors the gesture.

Yeah, I'm a fucking pussy.

What-the-fuck-ever.

You would be too if your wife's ass looked like that in black leather. That's right, motherfuckers, she's all mine.

"Daddy, no, that's not Cinderella! That's Belle!"

"What's the difference? They all look the fucking same to me." I mutter the last part under my breath but it doesn't escape Emmerson's super sonic hearing.

"Mommy, daddy said eff!"

Such a little tattle.

"Looks like daddy has to put a quarter in the naughty word jar, doesn't it ladybug?" My wife smirks at me as she reminds Emmy of her fucking jar.

"Yes! Mommy, I'm gonna be soooo rich!" She's full of evil glee as she rubs her chubby little hands together, the pink Minnie Mouse ears on the top of her head bobbing with the motion.

"Daddy, you need ears!" Her eyes are wide as saucers as she points to her own, adding in as an afterthought, "Mommy said."

Forty minutes and a few hundred dollars spent at "The Mad Hatter" later we are all donning different versions of those fucking ears, complete with names on the back. My lovely wife will pay for this shit later. Although seeing Milo and Emmy so happy makes it worth it.

Almost.

I've got a baseball cap version that say "Cullen", Bella's got Minnie Mouse with a red bow that say "Mrs. Cullen", Evan and Elliot got the original ones with their names on the back, Emiliano's are blue with "Milo" on the back and Emmerson's are pink, of course.

I'm only slightly bothered that there will be pictures posted all over social media with this fucking ears on my head.

The only thing that bothered me more was "The Beast" trying to get frisky with my wife during a picture. I mean, what the fuck, man, that's my wife!

"Ciccino, where do you want to eat dinner? A restaurant. The kids have had too much junk today."

"How is that different than any other day?"

"Edward."

"Alright! Chill woman. How about that place in "The French Quarter"?"

She side eyes me for my woman comment but readily agrees. The food is amazing and the service is quick which is a fucking blessing when you've got four kids you're trying to keep quiet.

The two days fly by and it isn't long until we close out our time at Disneyland with the Fantasia water show. It's pretty fucking magnificent, if I do say so myself.

Although the internet was bombarded with hundreds of pictures of us enjoying the Magic Kingdom, we weren't bothered too much so I can't really complain. All in all, I'd have to say that it was a pretty amazing family vacation.

That's what I've learned over these last sixteen years, family is everything. And mine is fucking perfect.

THE END

I can't believe that after all this time I'm marking this story complete. I'm seriously going into mourning. I love these two with all my heart and although it's hard to let them go, I know you guys deserved closure. Thanks again for the fuckawesome ride.

Smooches, Laila xoxo