A/N: And here we are. My goal has been to show a day in the life of this couple, so we end here. Thank you all so much for trying this fic out and sticking with it. I really loved reading your thoughts and theories as the fic progressed. I know this fic is totally opposite of my usual fare, but I just kept thinking about these two.

Like I mentioned last time, I'll be posting a second shot to Inhale Her next week (so, more funnies are coming). Also, I'm working on an outtake from The Hood for the Fandom Against Domestic Violence fundraiser. A TON of fabulous authors are participating, so check it out at fandomagainstdomesticviolence(DOT)blogspot(DOT)com

If slash is more your thang, check out my profile for info on The Slashtastics & our "Big Gay Story."

Happy New Year! Hope to catch you in 2011!

Big thanks & love to my own personal dream team: Char, Gin, Caren & Ash - they help make my words purdy and my ideas not suck so bad.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just come up with random things for them to do.


I close my eyes as Edward envelops me in his arms. I can tell he's nervous, the way he holds me gingerly, but his kisses are full of confidence and reassurance, even if he doesn't realize it. I wiggle around in his grasp and look towards the clock. It's not quite ten, but I can tell he's already exhausted. His fingers trail up and down my arms, and despite the fact that I'd like nothing more than for him to take me in his bed, I know that won't be happening tonight.

I settle back down and rest my head on his chest, reveling in the feel of his hand now stroking my back.

Over the months I've learned when to give him a little nudge and when to hold off. Some nights I don't get any further than his door, while other nights end in a sweaty, tangled mess in his bed. I'm just thankful when a night doesn't end in his crying, begging me to explain things to him...again.

It was clear a while back that telling Edward what had happened with each new day just caused us both heartaches. His doctors are adamant that I only explain things to him when he demands it. Otherwise, they have no objections to me seeing him. I've come up with my own ways of getting through to him, of sharing moments that are special to each of us, without pushing him to just try and remember.

Sleep doesn't come easy for Edward. I can feel his body tense and release a few times until he eventually relaxes and his breathing evens out. His chest rises and falls below me in a steady rhythm, and I know he's finally asleep. When I know he won't wake up, I shift slowly so I can see him, his face illuminated from the glow of the moon outside. I'll need to remember to close his shade before I leave.

For now, I look over his face and admire how peaceful and content he looks. I want to trace his features, wondering, as always, if tonight is the last time we'll be like this.

It's always a waiting game. Will I wake up tomorrow completely spent and drained, unable to keep this up anymore? Will I find a different Edward the next day, one who wants nothing to do with me?

These are the questions that plague my mind, not allowing me to sleep, until I notice that the clock's glaring red numbers tell me it's already one in the morning. I know it's fruitless to worry over this anyway, like I would ever choose to stop doing this. I have a few more hours with him pressed up against me, and I soak it all in, trying to allow my body to rest in the meantime. Finally, the clock silently screams at me that it's two o'clock, and I know I need to leave to get some real rest.

But it's so fucking hard.

It's hard to leave my husband each night I'm lucky enough to find myself back in his bed.

It's so hard to wonder if he'll bother to seek me out the next day.

It so damn hard to wonder how long I'll actually allow myself to live like this.

I gently move Edward's arm off me and wiggle out of his grasp. He snorts and stirs but then settles back down to sleep, clutching the pillow I slept on in my stead. I crouch down so I'm at his level, even though he can't see or hear me at the moment. Who knows? Maybe my words seep into his subconscious as he sleeps.

"Edward...it's me, Bella," I start, and my nose stings as the tears start all on their own. "I...I just wanted to thank you for today. When we had dessert together it reminded me of one of our first dates together. Do you remember?"

I shake my head. Of course he doesn't. I use his shirt to swipe at my eyes before continuing.

"You wouldn't tell me where you were taking me, and of course, I easily fell in love with the mystery of it all. We ended up in some old abandoned green house. You set up a small table with a little picnic in it. We sat and ate amongst half-dead plants and broken windows. It was perfect. Today was perfect in it's own way, too, I suppose. I only had one small melt down, so that's good, right?"

I pause and take a deep breath. Saying goodbye is always the hardest part.

"Hopefully I'll see you later today. I'm not sure how, but you always end up at my cafe. The doctors aren't even sure either, but you keep coming back. I know deep down, despite what they tell me, that maybe, one day you'll wake up from all of this. It's been a year Edward. A year of this. I...I'm not sure how much more I can take."

I sit there for a minute as the tears slide silently down my face. Wiping my face, I lean over and press a kiss to his forehead before straightening myself up. I grab my jeans and throw them on, but leave his shirt on. I'll take anything he gives me.

"Goodbye, Edward. I love you."

As I'm walking out the door, I pause when I notice his red notebook sitting on the table. I normally never look in it, but I notice that it's been left open to a page in the back. I can't help but look, and my hands start shaking as I read. I place it back, and as quietly as possible, I leave. Tears cloud my eyes as his written words replay in my mind.

Her name is Bella. You love her. Please don't forget.