“I do.”
He was still watching my face, waiting for me to relax.
“Can I ask you something?” I said.
“Anything.”
I hesitated, biting my lip, and then asked a different question than the one I was worried about.
“What am I getting Alice for graduation?”
He snickered. “It looked like you were getting us both concert tickets —”
“That’s right!” I was so relieved, I almost smiled. “The concert in Tacoma. I saw an ad in the paper last week, and I thought it would be something you’d like, since you said it was a good CD.”
“It’s a great idea. Thank you.”
“I hope it’s not sold out.”
“It’s the thought that counts. I ought to know.”
I sighed.
“There’s something else you meant to ask,” he said.
I frowned. “You’re good.”
“I have lots of practice reading your face. Ask me.”
I closed my eyes and leaned into him, hiding my face against his chest. “You don’t want me to be a vampire.”
“No, I don’t,” he said softly, and then he waited for more. “That’s not a question,” he prompted after a moment.
“Well . . . I was worrying about . . . why you feel that way.”
“Worrying?” He picked out the word with surprise.
“Would you tell me why? The whole truth, not sparing my feelings?”
He hesitated for a minute. “If I answer your question, will you then explain your question?”
I nodded, my face still hidden.
He took a deep breath before he answered. “You could do so much better, Bella. I know that you believe I have a soul, but I’m not entirely convinced on that point, and to risk yours . . .” He shook his head slowly. “For me to allow this — to let you become what I am just so that I’ll never have to lose you — is the most selfish act I can imagine. I want it more than anything, for myself. But for you, I want so much more. Giving in — it feels criminal. It’s the most selfish thing I’ll ever do, even if I live forever.
“If there were any way for me to become human for you — no matter what the price was, I would pay it.”
I sat very still, absorbing this.
Edward thought he was being selfish.
I felt the smile slowly spread across my face.
“So . . . it’s not that you’re afraid you won’t . . . like me as much when I’m different — when I’m not soft and warm and I don’t smell the same? You really do want to keep me, no matter how I turn out?”
He exhaled sharply. “You were worried I wouldn’t like you?” he demanded. Then, before I could answer, he was laughing. “Bella, for a fairly intuitive person, you can be so obtuse!”
I knew he would think it silly, but I was relieved. If he really wanted me, I could get through the rest . . . somehow. Selfish suddenly seemed like a beautiful word.
“I don’t think you realize how much easier it will be for me, Bella,” he said, the echo of his humor still there in his voice, “when I don’t have to concentrate all the time on not killing you. Certainly, there are things I’ll miss. This for one . . .”
He stared into my eyes as he stroked my cheek, and I felt the blood rush up to color my skin. He laughed gently.
“And the sound of your heart,” he continued, more serious but still smiling a little. “It’s the most significant sound in my world. I’m so attuned to it now, I swear I could pick it out from miles away. But neither of these things matter. This,” he said, taking my face in his hands. “You. That’s what I’m keeping. You’ll always be my Bella, you’ll just be a little more durable.”
I sighed and let my eyes close in contentment, resting there in his hands.
“Now will you answer a question for me? The whole truth, not sparing my feelings?” he asked.
“Of course,” I answered at once, my eyes opening wide with surprise. What would he want to know?
He spoke the words slowly. “You don’t want to be my wife.”
My heart stopped, and then broke into a sprint. A cold sweat dewed on the back of my neck and my hands turned to ice.
He waited, watching and listening to my reaction.
“That’s not a question,” I finally whispered.
He looked down, his lashes casting long shadows across his cheekbones, and dropped his hands from my face to pick up my frozen left hand. He played with my fingers while he spoke.
“I was worrying about why you felt that way.”
I tried to swallow. “That’s not a question, either,” I whispered.
“Please, Bella?”