I grimaced. "Be serious, please."

"Oh, I am," he insisted, glaring now. "Will you please try to hear what I'm telling you? Will you let me attempt to explain what you mean to me?"

He waited, studying my face as he spoke to make sure I was really listening.

"Before you, Bella, my life was like a moonless night. Very dark, but there were stars –points of light and reason… And then you shot across my sky like a meteor. Suddenly everything was on fire; there was brilliancy, there was beauty. When you were gone, when the meteor had fallen over the horizon, everything went black. Nothing had changed, but my eyes were blinded by the light. I couldn't see the stars anymore. And there was no more reason for anything."

Esme beamed at Edward with what would have been happy tears in her eyes, if she could have had that and said, "Edward, that was beautiful."

I wanted to believe him. But this was my life without him that he was describing, not the other way around.

"You two do seem to do things similarly," Esme smiled.

"Yeah, and that's why we're always bumping heads," Edward sighed and smiled at the same time.

"Your eyes will adjust," I mumbled.

"That's just the problem – they can't."

"What about your distractions?"

He laughed without a trace of humor. "Just part of the lie, love. There was no distraction from the…the agony. My heart hasn't beat in almost ninety years, but this was different. It was like my heart was gone – like I was hollow. Like I'd left everything that was inside me here with you."

"Wow," Edward looked pained and happy at the same time.

"You really are the same," Esme said.

"That's funny," I muttered.

He arched one perfect eyebrow. "Funny?"

"I meant strange – I thought it was just me. Lots of pieces of me went missing, too. I haven't been able to really breathe in so long." I filled my lungs, luxuriating in the sensation. "And my heart. That was definitely lost."

He closed his eyes and laid his ear over my heart again. I let my cheek press against his hair, felt the texture of it on my skin, smelled the delicious scent of him.

"Tracking wasn't a distraction then?" I asked, curious, and also needing to distract myself. I was very much in danger of hoping. I wouldn't be able to stop myself for long. My heart throbbed, singing in my chest.

"No." He sighed. "That was never a distraction. It was an obligation."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that, even though I never expected any danger from Victoria, I wasn't going to let her get away with…Well, like I said, I was horrible at it. I traced her as far as Texas, but then I followed a false lead down to Brazil – and really she came here." He groaned. "I wasn't even on the right continent! And all the while, worse than my worst fears –"

"You were hunting Victoria?" I half-shrieked as soon as I could find my voice, shooting through two octaves.

Charlie's distant snores stuttered, and then picked up a regular rhythm again.

"Not well," Edward answered, studying my outraged expression with a confused look. "But I'll do better this time. She won't be tainting perfectly good air by breathing in and out for much longer."

"Didn't you just promise to never leave her?" Esme asked.

"Yeah, don't worry Eddy, I'll take care of it for you," Emmett smirked.

"That is…out of the question," I managed to choke out. Insanity. Even if he had Emmett or Jasper help him. Even if he had Emmett and Jasper help.

"Does she honestly think that one of us couldn't handle her?" Emmett rolled his eyes.

"Apparently," Jasper replied. "I would have to say that Victoria is probably very good at avoiding things, but she wouldn't be a match in a fight."

"But think how Bella would feel, knowing that Edward's life was at even the smallest risk," Alice said matter-of-factly.

No one had anything to say that.

It was worse than my other imaginings: Jacob Black standing across a small space from Victoria's vicious and feline figure. I couldn't bear to picture Edward there, even though he was so much more durable than my half-human best friend.

"It's too late for her. I might have let the other time slide, but not now, not after –"

I interrupted him again, trying to sound calm. "Didn't you just promise that you weren't going to leave?" I asked, fighting the words as I said them, nor letting them plant themselves in my heart. "That isn't exactly compatible with an extended tracking expedition, is it?"

"Good girl," Esme smiled – she didn't really want any of her sons tracking anyone either.

He frowned. A snarl began to build low in his chest. "I will keep my promise, Bella. But Victoria" – the snarl became more pronounced – "is going to die. Soon."

"Let's not be hasty," I said, trying to hide my panic. "Maybe she's not coming back. Jake's pack probably scared her off. There's really no reason to go looking for her. Besides, I've got bigger problems than Victoria."

Edward's eyes narrowed, but he nodded. "It's true. The werewolves are a problem."

Edward snorted at that and Emmett laughed.

"I don't think that's what she meant, bro," Jasper laughed too.

I snorted. "I wasn't talking about Jacob. My problems are a lot worse that a handful of adolescent wolves getting themselves into trouble."

Edward looked as if he were about to say something, and then thought better of it. His teeth clicked together, and he spoke through them. "Really?" he asked. "Then what would be your greatest problem? That would make Victoria's returning for you seem like such an inconsequential matter in comparison?"

"How about the second greatest?" I hedged.

"All right," he agreed, suspicious.

I paused. I wasn't sure I could say the name. "There are others who are coming to look for me," I reminded him in a subdued whisper.

"She's right – that is a problem, but not as immediate as the Victoria issue," Carlisle said.

"What's her biggest problem then?" Esme asked, worried.

"I think we can all figure that out..." Edward said gloomily.

He sighed, but the reaction was not as strong as I would have imagined after his response to Victoria.

"The Volturi are only the second greatest?"

"You don't seem that upset about it," I noted.

"Well, we have plenty of time to think it through. Time means something very different to them than it does to you, or even me. They count years the way you count days. I wouldn't be surprised if you were thirty before you crossed their minds again," he added lightly.

"Hmmm...that really depends on how interested Aro is in her," Carlisle said. "Time means little to him, but he can also be impatient when he sees something he wants."

Horror washed through me.

Thirty.

So his promises meant nothing, in the end. If I were going to turn thirty someday, then he couldn't be planning on staying long.

"Bella," Edward sighed. "You know I want you human. This has nothing to do with not being near you."

The harsh pain of this knowledge made me realize that I'd already begun to hope, without giving myself permission to do so.

"You don't have to be afraid," he said, anxious as he watched the tears dew up again on the rims of my eyes. "I won't let them hurt you."

"While you're here." Not that I cared what happened to me when he left.

He took my face between his two stone hands, holding it tightly while his midnight eyes glared into mine with the gravitational force of a black hole. "I will never leave you again."

"But you said thirty," I whispered. The tears leaked over the edge. "What? You're going to stay, but let me get all old anyway? Right."

"Yep...that's the plan," Edward smiled.

His eyes softened, while his mouth went hard. "That's exactly what I'm going to do. What choice have I? I cannot be without you, but I will not destroy your soul."

"Is this really…" I tried to keep my voice even, but this question was too hard. I remembered his face when Aro had almost begged him to consider making me immortal. The sick look there. Was this fixation with keeping me human really about my soul, or was it because he wasn't sure that he wanted me around that long?

"It's all about your soul...I can't bear the idea of you losing it...especially for me," Edward sighed.

"Yes?" he asked, waiting for my question.