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It made no sense when he looked at me that way. Like I was the prize rather than the outrageously lucky winner.
He had the most beautiful soul, more beautiful than his brilliant mind or his incomparable face or his glorious body.
I couldn’t look away from his face to see them.
How did people do this—swallow all their fears and trust someone else so implicitly with every imperfection and fear they had—with less than the absolute commitment Edward had given me? If it weren’t Edward out there, if I didn’t know in every cell of my body that he loved me as much as I loved him—unconditionally and irrevocably and, to be honest, irrationally—I’d never be able to get up off this floor.
“But I wouldn’t use the word beautiful,” he continued. “Not with you standing here in comparison.”
Fire and ice, somehow existing together without destroying each other. More proof that I belonged with him.
“Forever and forever and forever,” he murmured. “That sounds exactly right to me.” And then we continued blissfully into this small but perfect piece of our forever.
