Hey guys! Sorry about the delay. I've been going through some things. The hubs and I are still trying to get pregnant. I'm doing hormone treatments and we're going through IUI cycles. Let me tell you, those hormones will rock your world! They change who you are and I haven't felt like touching fanfiction in so long. Sorry about that! I will try so hard to be better, I promise!

Chapter 12: The Morning After

Soft touches bookmark the segmented sleep in the middle of the night, and I moan, not being able to resist as I'm pulled from my dream. It was the sweetest dream…

"Bella," he whispers as he covers my body with his.

I swallow, trying to figure out if I'm really awake or not. Then he slides into me and the most delicious soreness surfaces as it excites me.

I sigh as we make love again. Our bodies fit so perfectly together; it's like a symphony.

And once he's dozing again, my mind doesn't rest.

Rolling over to see him next to me elicits all sorts of feelings. The main one that surfaces is happiness. His gorgeous face at peace and still asleep, makes my toes tingle.

It's the same face I looked over at countless times last night. I guess you could say it was a pinch me moment. I had to keep making sure it was real. That he was actually there. That this wasn't all something I dreamed up crazily.

I blink and shake off any fears that surface. Sure, there's plenty of reality we're going to have to face and hurdle, but right now I'm content.

I can't stop myself from running my fingers lightly through his wild hair. He sucks in a breath and smiles broadly, wrapping his arms around me, bringing me against his bare chest.

I snuggle into him and just live his arms.

We lay in bed, enjoying each other for a while.

The smile on my face is unrelenting. My face is literally starting to hurt. Despite the fact we haven't hashed anything out in great detail, last night is definitely topping my list as one of the best of my life.

We're still living off the fumes from our night together, and that's perfectly okay with me. I need to live in the moment for a minute. The endorphins haven't even worn off.

I slip on his shirt and a fresh pair of underwear, while he slides his boxers back on, and we head downstairs together.

His shirt still fits me well. An interesting fact that also makes me smile. I love having his scent surround me, even though he's only a few feet from me.

I let my fingers graze his arm as I make a fresh pot of coffee. The one from last night is still sitting there this morning.

I pour Edward a nice steaming cup and set it in front of him, stealing a kiss. Pulling me in, he deepens the kiss, making me moan and smile at the same time.

"Coffee," I whisper, pushing away.

"I don't need it when I have you," he murmurs, squeezing my ass. "You give me the jolt I need. Hell…I feel like a teenager this morning."

I chuckle and shake my head, grabbing my cup.

He takes a long sip, while I sigh contentedly. I didn't think this day was ever going to come, so I couldn't be happier that it's finally here. Having him here, in our old house…together.

"Bella, last night was…amazing."

"I know." I nod.

"We need to talk about it, though," he says, his words hang there. I'm nervous, but seeing his smile makes me optimistic. "I don't want to make the same mistakes again."

"I agree. Right now probably isn't the best time, though," I point out, "since I expect Rae home later this morning."

He nods and raises his eyebrows, drawing me into him. "When should we talk?"

I shrug, perfectly happy with the here and now.

"Dinner, tomorrow?"

"That sounds good."

He grins, looking cheeky. "Do we have time to head upstairs again?"

But, before I can answer him we freeze, hearing the front door open. It slams shut, and I stare wide-eyed at Edward.

"Mom, are you awake? We need to talk!" she shouts, sounding so broken. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat.

Edward silently asks me what to do, but we both know we're about to get caught, and there's nothing either of us can do about it. I swallow, pull away from him and attempt to save face, knowing damn well it's not going to work.

There's no way for either of us to get out of the kitchen without her seeing us, and neither of us are in any state of dress to be in the backyard.

"She's going to see us," Edward murmurs, looking worried. "And she's going to know exactly what went on."

I nod, trying to think of anything I can tell her, but come up empty.

"Mom!" she shouts again, even louder and more broken than the first time. I steel myself as I hear her feet shuffle just outside the kitchen door.

She pulls open the door, and I watch the emotion on her face. Shock. Then category five anger. I've only seen it once. Rae's generally level-headed for a teenager. Understandably, this is not a typical situation for any teenager to find her divorced parents, so I prepare myself for onslaught.

"What the fuck?!" she screeches.

Normally, I would be up one side of her and down the other for that kind of language, but this is an exception.

"Honey, it's okay, please, just—" Edward speaks soft and slow, attempting to calm her down.

"It's okay?" she interrupts him as she looks around at everything.

Edward nods, thinking he got through to her, but he doesn't know. He's never seen category five Rae.

"It's okay?" she questions again, clearly looking to me, the volume of her voice rising.

"Rae, give me three minutes to lay it all out for you, please?"

She licks her lips and visibly settles for a moment. Edward looks confused. I wave him off, because we're in unchartered waters here, and I don't know how she's going to react.

"Last night, long after you left. I spent the night on the couch watching crappy movies and drinking wine."

"So, what, you drunk texted him?"

"No," I answer sternly, making it clear I'm just about done with her attitude. I know we have to explain what she walked into, but I'm still her mother. "Dad showed up after a while. He'd been thinking about your wish."

"And you two just decided to...what? Bang?"

"Raegan Jaymes!" Edward shouts. "You will respect us; we're your parents!"

"What?" she asks, frustrated and grasping for answers. "Did you talk things out? Are you getting back together? Do you respect each other?" She huffs. "'Cus that seems like a lot to get through for such a little amount of time and to still end up like you are now."

I sigh. She's right, and I hate it. "We have a few things to discuss still, however, we're…" I stop myself, because I was going to say we're at least on the same page, but I'm not even sure if that's true.

"I think what your mother is trying to say," Edward continues for me, "is that we do have more to talk about, and we're willing to do that, but we made some progress last night."

"Oh right! Talk? Ha! I'm sure you did! Tons of progress right before you jumped in bed together."

"That's not what happened," I say, trying to sound sincere.

"Yes it is. You both know it. And now that you got your rocks off, you're going to fuck up the best thing that's ever happened to you two! It's bullshit! And I'm not going to sit by and watch that happen again! I'm done!" she screams, throwing her arms in the air and stomping off up to her room.

I stand there a little shell-shocked. My beautiful daughter has never talked to me like that, but she's also never talked to me like that—where she's the adult and I'm the kid. It's distressing to say the least, since she has a point.

"What's gotten into her?" Edward asks, blowing out a heavy breath.

"She's upset," I say defensively, but I know it's not just his fault. We made our own bed, literally, and now we have to lie in it.

"No kidding. Why is she so mad? I thought..." He trails off, looking away uncertainly.

I sigh. "Because, she thinks we did everything backward, that we're not supposed to do, that we should have talked and gradually got to this point. But now that we've had sex, we're going to ruin what we have accomplished over the years."

"Why would she think that?"

I look at him, right in his green eyes. "Remember when you were a kid and you bugged your parents for some stupid toy?"


"Well, say they bought it for you the next time they went out. How much attention did you usually give that toy?"

He shrugs, figuring out where I'm going with this.

"Well, say you stewed at them for months, and they did nothing about it. You had to work for it; chores and all. How did that go?"

"It usually held my attention a lot more."

"See. Our sixteen year old is wise beyond her years."

He nods, looking nervous. "Damn us for having such a smart daughter. So what do we do now?"

Hearing the precious sounds of heavy metal resonating throughout the house, I know it's time to let her sulk and try to figure out my head space. "Why don't you head out and I'll attempt to talk to her in a bit?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'll call you and let you know how far I get."

"Okay," he breathes out, looking upset, heading upstairs to change. I go the laundry room and grab a clean shirt so I can give him back his. Every ounce of me doesn't want to give it back, let alone let him leave on these uncertain terms.

But Rae's right. We need to talk and to do that I have to think, clear my head.

I hand him his shirt when he comes down the stairs, the walls rattle with the music of a broken spirit, and I frown.

"Bella, please call me," he implores, after slipping on his shirt.

"I will," I promise him, nodding.

He searches my eyes, then nods, pecks my cheek and leaves.

I take a long, hot shower, trying to drown out the music and my own thoughts, but it only accomplishes one. The shower does anything but drown out my thoughts. I replay everything in my mind, analyzing details, and shaking my head.

My daughter's right. We fucked up.

The question is: where do we all go from here?

What do you guys think?

See you soon!