13. Eliza

That was the first time Edward made love to me, but not the last. Over time we fell into a wonderful routine. He told me how happy he was that I had accepted him the way he was and guilt riddled me. Guilt for not being able to tell him my dark secrets.

The guilt grew with every day, every week, every month, and then with every year we spent together.

Yes, year.

Caspian’s stitches came out and Edward asked me to stay. And we did. I hadn’t been able to ask my brothers their opinion about it, but it didn’t seem to bother them. They appeared happy, as happy as circumstances allowed. We had a warm place to sleep, meals Marie prepared for us with love, my brothers had the pond, and I had Edward and all the time in the world to sew the mantles.

Several times a week Edward took us to different graveyards so I could fill my nettle stock and sew during the day while he was at work.

Some days he took me with him, showed me the construction sites and places he wanted to develop next. One time, we even made it to Fable Forest. He parked the truck in front of the sign and we idled for a bit.

“Have you ever been there?” His face was turned to me like it usually was when we talked.

I pulled my lips between my teeth. If I told him yes, would that betray my vow? The one where I wasn’t supposed to say or write or indicate anything about my brothers and me? Or did that only apply to the curse?

I didn’t know, but it had been four long years, we were so close, past the halfway point, and I didn’t want to chance it.

I stared at him regretfully, pleaded with my eyes for him to understand, and miraculously he did. “You don’t want to talk about this, do you?”

I sighed, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk about it. But I had no way to make him understand.

“Will you trust me enough one day to tell me who you are? Where you came from?”

His words nearly broke me in two. I trusted him with my life. I just wasn’t allowed to talk about this. And I didn’t know how to make him understand.

I took his hands and pressed them against my heart, staring at him. Then I pointed one of my fingers against my heart, drew that finger into the air, and circled his heart before I pressed my palm against his chest.

“You love me?” his voice sounded hoarse.

I nodded.

“Oh, princess”—he took my hand—“I love you too.”

He pulled me across the seat and we kissed tenderly. “You changed my life, you have no idea how much.”

He had changed my life too. Oh, there were so many things I wanted to say, so many words that ran through my mind, begging to be allowed to leave my tongue, but I didn’t know if I even still had a voice.

Did one lose it after so many years of not uttering a word?

“Do you know what I want more than anything in the world?” he asked.

I tilted my head and waited for him to tell me.

“I want to go to bed with you in the evening, make sweet love to you, and wake up in the morning with your head on my chest,” he confessed.

Tears welled in my eyes. Such a simple request, really.

I took his hand and opened his palm to nuzzle my face into it. Kissing it.

“Yeah, you too.” He sighed wistfully. “I’m so sorry that I can’t give you that.”

I wagged my finger in front of his face, trying to look stern. I pointed at myself and exaggerated a smile, I’m happy, very happy.

He pulled me against his chest, “God, you’re so easy to please. I don’t know what I have done to deserve you in my life, but I’m grateful for it. Every second of it.”

The inside of my belly fluttered as if it was coming to life. I felt the exact same way about him and I wished with all my heart I could tell him. Instead, I had to content myself with leaning forward and kissing him, hoping my lips and tongue would say what I couldn’t.

“Ah princess, you make me feel so alive,” he moaned, his hands stroking me on my thighs, moving up my back and down again.

I had one thing I could give him though. Something I had been wanting to share with him, but hadn’t been sure how he would feel about. The moment seemed perfect though.

Unsure and slightly trembling, I took one of his hands and placed it on my stomach, then I cradled my arms as if rocking a baby and waited for his response with my heart beating furiously.

His expression changed from curious, to puzzled, to astonishment. “Are you saying what I think you are?”

I bit on my lower lip and nodded, watching him carefully and praying I hadn’t made a mistake and he would kick us out now.

I should have known better though, because his features turned utterly ecstatic. “You’re having my baby?”

I tilted my head indulgently and pointed from him to me.

He grinned from ear to ear. “Sorry, our baby.”

He crushed me against his chest, “Oh my princess, you’re making me so happy.”

I loved when he called me his princess.

My arms linked around his neck and we kissed again, deep and affectionately.

“Hold on”—he fumbled toward his back pockets—“I’ve been wanting to do this, but I’ve been waiting for the right moment… Hold on…” He produced a small black velvet box and my heart thumped hard in my chest.

“I should have done this before we… we… you know… had sex the first time.” His free hand moved behind his neck, rubbed it the way I had come to know when he was insecure about something.

“I don’t really know who you are, I don’t even know your name”—he grinned sheepishly—“but for some reason, you remind me of this beautiful fairy princess, this… lady. A lady who should have been married before… before we… uhm…”

I took pity on him and gently lifted the box from his hand, held it against my chest, and smiled brightly at him. So many words lay on the tip of my tongue, You’re right. I am a princess. No, it doesn’t matter. I love you. I’m happy either way. But no words came out. Instead, I kissed him again.

“Alright, look at it,” he said when we pulled apart a little while later.

Carefully I opened the black box. My heart skipped another beat. Inside lay the most beautiful ring I had ever seen. White gold or platinum wire, so thin it should have been impossible to work with, created several dainty leaves resembling nettles—he must have thought them dear to me since I collected them, proving again what a thoughtful man he was.

The nettles flowed together as if holding up a very large, exquisitely cut diamond in the center. I barely dared to touch it, it looked so delicate

“It reminded me of you, so fragile looking, and yet so strong and unbreakable,” Edward breathed, taking the ring from the box. “The jeweler was a bit astounded when I asked him to make the leaves look like nettles, but…” He shrugged and my chest warmed for this incredible man.

The ring looked even more fragile in his fingers, but when he took my hand and pushed the ring onto my finger, it felt sturdier than it appeared.

“Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” he asked, holding the ring midway.

Excitedly, I bobbed my head up and down, feeling giddy all over.