I stepped through the door of my surprisingly silent home, depositing car keys, brief case, purse, and jacket unceremoniously into a heap next to the door. Sighing in exhaustion, I made my way to the kitchen, intent on that ancient bottle of Merlot that Carlisle had sent over as an anniversary gift. 

As I scanned the dusty bottles lined along the wine rack, I couldn’t help reliving in my head the horrid day I’d had in the office where I worked as a journalist. Whenever possible I preferred to work from home, but my editor-in-chief was now requiring a ridiculous minimum of three seven-hour days at the office – when we weren’t on location, of course. Ugh, I though in disgust, pulling the correct bottle from the rack.

Didn’t Clara know that the environment there was stifling?   I’d probably get more work done if I dragged my laptop with me and plunked down in the middle of the monkey cage at the zoo. Or in the middle of a construction zone, with the jackhammer being pounded against my skull . . .

I’d just picked up one of the crystal goblets – another gift from Carlisle and Esme – when something in the corner of my eye caught my attention. Something shiny, tacky, and completely out of place.

Whipping around in alarm I saw – to my utter horror and annoyance – a huge, colorful banner displaying the words ‘Happy Birthday, Bella.’

I groaned. Honestly, was this Edward’s idea of a joke? Did a girl really need a reminder that she was turning twenty-nine? I mean, really, what was there to celebrate? This would be the last year of my twenties. In another year I’d be thirty; and then forty in another ten; and then fifty . . . You get the idea. I’d wake up and be old and decrepit one morning and wonder where in the hell the years had gone. But at least I’ll have Edward, old and decrepit right along with me. That thought put a smile on my face. After ten years I could still hardly believe it.

For the longest time I’d had difficulty coming to terms with this idea. I’d felt horrible guilt, as if it were my fault that one day Edward would be gone from this world as surely as I would be. Even worse than that, I’d felt happy, and I’d felt guilty for feeling happy.