The moon was high above Isle Esme, casting silver ribbons across the dark waves that lapped gently against the shore. The air was warm, humid, and thick with the scent of salt, orchids, and something that felt timeless—untouched. The soft rustle of palm trees swaying above blended with the steady hum of insects and the distant crash of waves over coral.

You stood barefoot in the sand, the cool grains sinking between your toes as you stared out at the vast ocean. Behind you, the villa glowed softly with candlelight—warm and golden, like something out of a goddamn fairytale. It didn’t even feel real. None of it did. You kept glancing down at the ring on your finger, half-expecting to wake up in your old bedroom, heart pounding, realizing it was all just a dream. But it wasn’t. You were here. On Isle Esme. Married. To Edward.

“Hey,” his voice cut gently through the thick silence, velvet and familiar.

You turned and he was there—barefoot, shirtless, loose linen pants slung low on his hips, that signature, crooked-ass smirk playing on his lips. His bronze hair was a little wild from the wind, and his golden eyes practically glowed in the dark.

“You keep wandering off,” he said, walking closer.

“I’m not wandering,” you said softly, teasing, “I’m just… absorbing. Processing. Holy shit, Edward—we’re married. We’re actually married.”

He smiled, more genuine now. “We are.”

“And this place,” you added, gesturing around. “It’s stupid-beautiful. Like, unreal. How is this real?”

Edward reached for your hand, pulling you into him. You felt the chill of his skin against the heat of yours—it never stopped being a shock, that contrast—but it was comforting now. Familiar. Yours.

“My mother gave it to Carlisle. It was her wedding gift,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek. “But it’s ours now. Just for us.”

You looked up at him, heart pounding like it was trying to claw its way out of your chest. “You’re mine now,” you whispered.

His expression shifted, softened with something heavier. “I always was.”