"No," I said slowly. "I'm not."
His forehead creased. "Of course you are. You may have a scar or two…"
"You're wrong," I insisted. "I'm going to die."
"Really, Bella." He was anxious now. "You'll be out of here in a few days. Two week at most."
I glared at him. "I may not die now… but I'm going to die sometime. Every minute of the day, I get closer. And I'm going to get old."
He frowned as what I was saying sunk in, pressing his long fingers to his temples and closing his eyes. "That's how it's supposed to happen. How it should happen. How it would have happened if I didn't exist — and I shouldn't exist."
I snorted. He opened his eyes in surprise. "That's stupid. That's like going to someone who's just won the lottery, taking their money, and saying, 'Look, let's just go back to how things should be. It's better that way.' And I'm not buying it."
"I'm hardly a lottery prize," he growled.
"That's right. You're much better."
He rolled his eyes and set his lips. "Bella, we're not having this discussion anymore. I refuse to damn you to an eternity of night and that's the end of it."
"If you think that's the end, then you don't know me very well," I warned him. "You're not the only vampire I know."
His eyes went black again. "Alice wouldn't dare."
And for a moment he looked so frightening that I couldn't help but believe it — I couldn't imagine someone brave enough to cross him.
"Alice already saw it, didn't she?" I guessed. "That's why the things she says upset you.
She knows I'm going to be like you… someday."
"She's wrong. She also saw you dead, but that didn't happen, either."
"You'll never catch me betting against Alice."
We stared at each other for a very long time. It was quiet except for the whirring of the machines, the beeping, the dripping, the ticking of the big clock on the wall. Finally, his expression softened.
"So where does that leave us?" I wondered.
He chuckled humorlessly. "I believe it's called an impasse."
I sighed. "Ouch," I muttered.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, eyeing the button for the nurse.
"I'm fine," I lied.
"I don't believe you," he said gently.
"I'm not going back to sleep."
"You need rest. All this arguing isn't good for you."
"So give in," I hinted.
"Nice try." He reached for the button.
"No!"
He ignored me.
"Yes?" the speaker on the wall squawked.
"I think we're ready for more pain medication," he said calmly, ignoring my furious expression.
"I'll send in the nurse." The voice sounded very bored.
"I won't take it," I promised.
He looked toward the sack of fluids hanging beside my bed. "I don't think they're going to ask you to swallow anything."
My heart rate started to climb. He read the fear in my eyes, and sighed in frustration.
"Bella, you're in pain. You need to relax so you can heal. Why are you being so difficult? They're not going to put any more needles in you now."
"I'm not afraid of the needles," I mumbled. "I'm afraid to close my eyes."
Then he smiled his crooked smile, and took my face between his hands. "I told you I'm not going anywhere. Don't be afraid. As long as it makes you happy, I'll be here."
I smiled back, ignoring the ache in my cheeks. "You're talking about forever, you know."
"Oh, you'll get over it — it's just a crush."
I shook my head in disbelief— it made me dizzy. "I was shocked when Renée swallowed that one. I know you know better."
"That's the beautiful thing about being human," he told me. "Things change."
My eyes narrowed. "Don't hold your breath."
He was laughing when the nurse came in, brandishing a syringe.
"Excuse me," she said brusquely to Edward.
He got up and crossed to the end of the small room, leaning against the wall. He folded his arms and waited. I kept my eyes on him, still apprehensive. He met my gaze calmly.
"Here you go, honey." The nurse smiled as she injected the medicine into my tube.
"You'll feel better now."
"Thanks," I mumbled, unenthusiastic. It didn't take long. I could feel the drowsiness trickling through my bloodstream almost immediately.
"That ought to do it," she muttered as my eyelids drooped.
She must have left the room, because something cold and smooth touched my face.
"Stay." The word was slurred.
"I will," he promised. His voice was beautiful, like a lullaby. "Like I said, as long as it makes you happy… as long as it's what's best for you."
I tried to shake my head, but it was too heavy. "'S not the same thing," I mumbled.
He laughed. "Don't worry about that now, Bella. You can argue with me when you wake up."
I think I smiled. '"Kay."
I could feel his lips at my ear.
"I love you," he whispered.
"Me, too."
"I know," he laughed quietly.
I turned my head slightly… searching. He knew what I was after. His lips touched mine gently.
"Thanks," I sighed.
"Anytime."
I wasn't really there at all anymore. But I fought against the stupor weakly. There was just one more thing I wanted to tell him.
"Edward?" I struggled to pronounce his name clearly.
"Yes?"
"I'm betting on Alice," I mumbled.
And then the night closed over me.
Epilogue: An Occasion
Edward helped me into his car, being very careful of the wisps of silk and chiffon, the flowers he'd just pinned into my elaborately styled curls, and my bulky walking cast. He ignored the angry set of my mouth.
When he had me settled, he got in the driver's seat and headed back out the long, narrow drive.
"At what point exactly are you going to tell me what's going on?" I asked grumpily. I really hated surprises. And he knew that.
"I'm shocked that you haven't figured it out yet." He threw a mocking smile in my direction, and my breath caught in my throat. Would I ever get used to his perfection?
"I did mention that you looked very nice, didn't I?" I verified.
"Yes." He grinned again. I'd never seen him dress in black before, and, with the contrast against his pale skin, his beauty was absolutely surreal. That much I couldn't deny, even if the fact that he was wearing a tuxedo made me very nervous.
Not quite as nervous as the dress. Or the shoe. Only one shoe, as my other foot was still securely encased in plaster. But the stiletto heel, held on only by satin ribbons, certainly wasn't going to help me as I tried to hobble around.
"I'm not coming over anymore if Alice is going to treat me like Guinea Pig Barbie when I do," I griped. I'd spent the better part of the day in Alice's staggeringly vast bathroom, a helpless victim as she played hairdresser and cosmetician. Whenever I fidgeted or complained, she reminded me that she didn't have any memories of being human, and asked me not to ruin her vicarious fun. Then she'd dressed me in the most ridiculous dress — deep blue, frilly and off the shoulders, with French tags I couldn't read — a dress more suitable for a runway than Forks. Nothing good could come of our formal attire, of that I was sure. Unless… but I was afraid to put my suspicions into words, even in my own head.