Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight or its characters, but who cares because S. Meyers is awesome enough to let us manipulate them for our own wicked benefits.

Chapter 1

BPOV

As the gray light streams with the early morning sun into my dingy childhood bedroom, I grumble at the turning point in my life that led me to this point. "I should have kept my ass in Phoenix." You know they saying about hindsight being 20/20, fuck that shit. I want hindsight clarity all the fucking time, hey maybe that way I wouldn't have ended up as a divorced twenty-three year old mother of two. Maybe I wouldn't have been forced to return to the home I had shared with my father during those final years of adolescence, because the house I shared with him holds too many good memories to even fathom the weight of the day six months ago when he told me he was leaving me, again.

"Why so distant?" My husband was nervously running his hands through his permanently, disheveled bronze hair while staring intently at the sleeping forms of our children warm in their beds.

"Huh… what?" He turned to meet my gaze and the pain that I saw in his eyes almost brought me to my knees, as a faintly familiar panic began to creep its way up my back.

Pushing away my unprecedented worry, I nervously joked, "Oh that doesn't prove my point at all." I waited as my husband let out the typical chuckle that my sarcasm typically induces, but my wait was in vain. Again my stomach turned as the panic once again flashed at the familiarity of his current demeanor.

Desperate for contact, I moved to wrap my arms around his waist. At the warmth of my touch he became rigid, but relaxed slightly as I placed a soft kiss on his bicep. Together we stood in silent reverie enjoying the calm before the inevitable storm.

The child in the bed on the left side of the room, our daughter, rolled over causing her curly bronze hair to spread out wildly across both her angelic face and her seersucker pillowcase. I flinched at the sob that escaped from my husband, but feigning ignorance, I ignored it attempting to keep this moment as pure as possible.

On the right side of the room stood another bed; where a brown haired boy mumbled dream filled words. I smiled as "homerun" and "you're out" slipped from between his perfectly pink lips.

"He loves the game." My husband's whisper caught me off guard after the two of us had remained so inhumanly quiet for so long.

"He comes by it honestly enough." This time my words received their desired response, but all too quickly my husband had completely removed himself from my grasp as he made his way toward our bedroom leaving me in his wake.

Unable to stay away I followed him, like a lost puppy dog, toward the room we shared. He was perched at the end of the bed, his elbows digging into his thighs under the weight of his head as it slumped into his hands.

My disobedient tears began to sting the corners of my eyes at the sight of his broken figure; my indestructible love was battered in ways I could not imagine. Part of my body screamed for me to run to his side and kiss away his troubles, but my fear kept my feet rooted just within the threshold of the room.

His shoulders began to shake with the tears he could not shed, and I could feel my world collapsing around me for the second time in my short existence. Somewhere I found my voice as I quietly demanded "Look at me." My husband acted as though my words were lost, but I knew better, and I once again steeled my courage and said a little louder this time, "Look at me."

Again I received no response, and I could feel my anger grow in the pit of my stomach as I arguably refused to become his victim again, near-screaming this time, "GOD DAMNIT EDWARD! LOOK AT ME!"

His head snapped up finally making eye contact with me. His face was indescribable, and remained frozen in place as I moved closer.

My brain was attempting to process what was going on, but the only coherent thought that I was able to muster was "no."

He remained stoic, yet I remained undeterred, "No." My voice held more conviction the second time, but still he sat; a marble statue on my pillow top mattress. Again I moved closer, pushing myself to be positioned between his legs.

I wanted to reach out to him, but I needed for him to reach for me, so I followed his lead and stood still. My heart was racing and there was no need to attempt to be ashamed, I wanted him to know what he was putting me through and for once I was thankful for his sensitive hearing.

My locked knees began to ache, but I remained. My cheeks were raw from the constant stream of tears that dripped from them into his perfect hair, but I would not move. Finally my heart shattered. I was not broken, last time he broke me. I was destroyed, and finally under the knowledge of what was to come, I crumbled to floor between his legs sobbing into my hands.

"No. No. No. No. No. No. No." As I rocked myself back and forth I repeated the word over and over until I had to force myself to remember its meaning.

My thoughts were broken when I heard the muffled screams of my little boy. Quietly I thanked my son's nightmares for the temporary escape, but when I shifted to crawl away toward the door, I felt a cold hand caress my cheek. "Don't worry love, I'll go."

I nodded, granting him permission, not that he needed it, but I felt better allowing him to leave then just watching him walk away.

Using the bed, I pulled myself from the floor and made my way to his side of the bed, to the collage of pictures his sister had arranged. There was one of me and him on our wedding day. The day our daughter was born. The day our son was born. The day he and I graduated from Dartmouth. Then the most recent picture was taken just weeks ago at a Cullen family baseball game. We were all dressed in one of a kind "Team Cullen" attire with painful smiles stretched across our faces.

I picked up that picture just as husband's velvet voice came flowing into the room singing the lullaby he had written for me years ago. My fingers danced lightly across our faces while his song continued to fill my ears. Lowering myself down onto the mattress I waited for the song's conclusion, causing my heart to die even more at the possibility of never being able to hear it again.

I didn't look up when he re-entered the room, and I didn't make eye contact when I felt the bed dip beside me under his weight. Instead I questioned and tainted the memory that I held in my hands, "I thought we were happy."

Maybe it was the dead tone to my voice, maybe it was all the tears he had seen me cry over the course of the night, or maybe it was the fact that he couldn't fight it anymore, but his grabbed my face and our lips crashed together in an urgent kiss while the picture frame hit the floor in a shattering noise.

Out of necessity we began to tug and rip at each others clothing. I knew I should have been convincing him to stay, I knew this was selfish of me to opt for intimacy when my children's father might choose to leave, but after loving this man with my entire being for the majority of my adult life, I needed to be selfish.

I pushed away the guilt that was starting to build in my stomach as I felt my underwear being ripped away from my body. Hastily I reached for my husband's boxers, but he had discarded them long before my attempt to do so, causing my hand to brush ever so slightly against his growing erection. I low growl rumbled from his chest, just before we crashed together.

We had made love hundreds, maybe thousands of times over the course of the last five years, but not once had we done this. This wasn't full of light caresses and sweet nothings in my ear; this was fucking, plain and simple, completely animalistic.

As we approached our climax I could feel his body begin to tremble, pushing me over the edge. When we were done, he made no effort to slide out of me; instead he rolled us so that I was lying on top of him, staying as closing connected as physically possible.

I held back my tears as I understood the signs, and just before sleep consumed me in the early hours of the morning I whispered "You're leaving."

It wasn't a question. I knew, but I needed to hear his confirmation. "Yes."

The knocking on my bedroom door brought me back to reality just in time to see a small child jump onto my bed.

"Morning Mommy," Elizabeth was overly cheerful for such an unholy hour of the morning, but none the less I met her enthusiasm.

"How is my little birdie this morning?"

She made a small face at my nickname for her, but her smile quickly returned when she beamed, "Great, Scout slept in his own bed last night, and neither of us had any nightmares." As much as it killed me to hear my daughter be so excited that she and her brother were able to sleep through the night alone without screaming for me or crying for Edward, I was relieved. Since the three of us had moved in with Charlie, his new wife Sue and my stepbrother Seth, it had become a nightly thing for one of us to have to stay in their room so they could feel safe while they sleep. They suffer from abandonment issues.

Shrugging off the growing bitterness that always made its appearance when I thought about the damage Edward has done to our children I asked, "And where is your brother?"

"Grammy Sue is giving him a bath and a haircut."

The way my daughter refused to make eye contact with me suddenly made me very suspicious of my four year old. "Why?"

In a habit she picked up from me she bit her bottom lip and looked at me through her lashes, as I thought 'no wonder Edward had a hard time telling me no, that is just too damn cute.' Focusing on the question she was avoiding I lifted an eyebrow at her and she finally broke down "He may or may not have fallen asleep with gum in his mouth."

I pushed myself up onto my elbows and smeared a very parental look across my face, "How did your little brother get chewing gum? I'm pretty sure your dad said that he wasn't old enough."

"Humph daddy's not here." Her tone was so matter-of-fact that I had to remind myself that she was only four.

Sitting up completely I scolded, "I understand that Elizabeth Charlotte Cullen, however just because daddy's not here doesn't mean his rules still don't apply. They were imposed because he loves you and he wants you safe, so no matter what we will follow them until I deem otherwise."

It was then that my diva of a daughter rolled her eyes at me as she shoved herself off my bed while grumbling, "We will follow them until I deem otherwise."

As she exited my room I let my head fall back onto my pillow as I repeated quietly, "I love my children, I love my children, I love my children."

I was just about to drift back off to sleep when I heard Seth's electric hair clippers down the hall. Not caring what condition my pajamas, or lack there of, were in I jumped out of my bed and ran toward the noise. Sure enough, I pushed open the bathroom door to see my three year old son sitting on the toilet while his uncle shaved his head.

A growl escaped my chest as my head fell back in defeat. "Mason Philip Cullen, what is going on in here?"

My son was grinning from ear to ear as his shoulder length brown locks fell to the ground, "Uncle Seth is giving me a haircut, duh." 'Right, like I'm the idiot.'

Feeling like a broken record I dumbly asked, "Why?"

Mason was too busy kicking his feet back and forth in enjoyment to answer me, so my brother came to his rescue. "Well sis, um…Scout here fell asleep with chewing gum last night and it got everywhere. Mom says this was the only solution." Seth gave me an uneasy smile.

I moved to crouch down before my little boy and said to no one in particular, "Yeah, that's what I heard."

Seth gave me a questioning glance as he made his final pass freeing what was left of my son's beautiful locks to float to the floor, "News spreads quick eh?"

I snorted and said "Mm hmm, a little birdie came and told me this morning."

Seth chuckled as he brushed away the hair that was resting on the towel that covered Mason's shoulders before moving him so that he could see his new 'do' in the mirror. "Well Scout, what do you think, you like it?"

Nodding vigorously the little boy squirmed in his uncle's grasp to get down. Once his sock covered feet touched the tile floor he turned to look at me looking for a seal of approval. "What do you think Momma?"

"Hmmm…" I grabbed his chin turning his head to the left and to the right before saying "Not to bad Mr. Cullen."

In defiance, his mouth clenched tight before gritting out "Swan."

"Excuse me?"

Crossing his arms he stated "Not Cullen, Swan. Mason Philip Swan." 'What. The. Fuck. Really?'

"Right, w-we'll discuss that later, but for right now you should probably go get dressed."

Mason stood there, all of maybe three feet tall, tapping his foot with his arms crossed before huffing out "fine," and heading toward his room where Sue waited to get them dressed for the day.

I turned to see Seth fighting down a fit of laughter. In retaliation I snapped out "What?"

Bursting at the seams Seth began choke. I slapped him on the back a few times, probably harder than necessary, not like it fazed him, until he was able to control himself and said after claming down, "You can't deny that they're your children, that's for fucking sure."

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" I sneered, curling my top lip ever so slightly in disgust.

"Yep" he said popping the 'p', "and my sister too." Quickly he ducked his seven foot stature down to meet my five foot four inch frame and placed a chaste kiss on my cheek before jogging towards his bedroom.

I shook my head at him as he crossed into his room just as he threw over his shoulder, "By the way Bells, I always pegged you as a fan of the dark knight." With that he closed his door. 'What was that about?'

Curiously I turned to look at my reflection in the mirror, when I noticed that I had ran out of my bedroom sporting a red wife beater and blue boy Spiderman underwear.

Blushing, reaching a new shade of crimson, I headed back to my room and quickly dressed for the day in a torn up pair of jeans and an old Dartmouth t-shirt. My waist length brown hair was more unruly than ever as I pulled it back into a pony tie just before making my way down stairs.

When I reached the kitchen Seth was already sitting at the table with an untouched plate of French toast sitting in front of him. While I slid into my "new" seat I noticed Charlie pulling more French toast out of the oven and warmed syrup from the microwave. I gave a questioning look at Seth who looked terrified to try the breakfast that was prepared confirming one of my greatest fears, Charlie had cooked breakfast. 'Oh Dear God.'

My father placed a cup of coffee before me, "Morning Bells, sleep good?"

Pulling the steaming mug to my face and inhaling the sweet aroma of my morning nectar I said, "As good as I can hope for." I didn't mean for my statement to be rude, but he knows what being left is like, I was just trying to adjust.

"That's all we can ask for." Charlie flashed me a smile that did not quite reach his eyes as he placed a plate of what appeared to be French toast on the place mat where I sat, however one could never be too sure.

Slowly I cut through the pieces of toast and gathered a miniscule bite on my fork. I flashed a look toward Seth, who was pleading with his eyes for me not to do it, but Charlie was my father, and I was going to make him happy even if it killed me.

I felt the warm breakfast dish touch my lips just as a two small screams came bounding into the kitchen, "MOMMY NO!!!!"

Without placing the bite in my mouth I lowered my fork slightly to give them a reprimanding glare. From behind me I heard a loud crash causing everyone to look at my father, "For Christ's sake, I didn't make it I was just dishing it out while Sue got the kids dressed."

I heard Seth send up a not so quiet prayer, "Thank you Jesus," while she began to shovel food in his mouth.

The rest of breakfast remained uneventful while we sat as a family talking about the day's coming events. While Mason was showing off his new hairstyle I slipped back to the days when it was just me and Charlie who ate at the kitchen table in silent compatibility. He would nervously ask me questions about my day or about Edward, because that's what a good dad does, and I would respond with half truths and one words answers, because that's what teenage daughters do.

My family ate and continued to talk about mundane things, while I stayed fixated on the past. Sitting at the table covering up things my father would not understand; sitting at this table, while Edward filled out my college applications because my hand writing was too sloppy; sitting at this table waiting while I waited for him to pick me up in the morning for school after I had spent the entire night with him. As all these memories came flooding back, the only coherent thought in my head was 'Fuck you table! Fuck you and your little chairs too.'

I had stopped eating, consumed with the overwhelming need to sling profanities at the kitchen furniture, opting instead to push my food around my plate to cover up my lack of appetite, 'Just like he does.' I needed to snap out of my memories I needed to concentrate on what was going on around me.

My children ate their French toast with diligence, 'Thank god they got my dietary preferences, that would have been hard to exp,--"

"So what do you think Bells?" My father's voice echoed off my eardrums ripping me from my thoughts, for which I was eternally grateful, but now I was left the embarrassment of admitting that I had been somewhere else.

"Oh, I, uh… right…um…sure?" Charlie chuckled and shook his head at my pitiful attempt to answer him, but thankfully took pitty on me and repeated the conversation I so rudely tuned out the first time around.

"Well Bells, Sue, Seth and I are going down to the res for the day. Billy and I are going fishing, while Seth spends sometime with his pack of friends, and Sue wants to check on Leah." I nodded urging him to continue, "So Sue and I were wondering if the kids could come with us. Leah has been dieing to see her niece and nephew since she got home from school, and I think sometime on the lake would really do these two some good, they're so pale they make you look like you just got off the plane from Mexico."

Seth snorted at Charlie's comment, but no one let it ruin the conversation while I mulled over the prospect of having the house to myself for the first time since we moved in.

"I guess I don't see the harm in it," Sending a convert look in Seth's direction I asked the room, "I can trust you to keep them safe right?" Seth dipped his head slightly as he reached for his orange juice answering my question, but Charlie, oblivious to the exchange answered.

"Of course Bells. What kind of grandpa do you take me for? We're just taking them down La Push, it's not like I'm feeding them to a pack of wolves." That was it, poor Seth could not control his reaction to that and his Tropicana came spitting out of his mouth and trickling out of his nose.

"SHIT, IT BURNS!" Tears were forming in his eyes as he violently rubbed the remaining juice from his nostrils while Sue reprimanded him for his language.

Charlie, failing to see the humor in the events kept searching from face to face, until he gave up and turned his attention back to the task at hand. "So Bells it's settled, the kids are coming with us, and you're going to sit back and take it easy."

I nodded in response, and pushed myself away from the table my long forgotten breakfast and placed the dishes in the sink. I told the kids to finish up, and then I helped them repeat my actions with their own dishes. Picking up Mason and holding Elizabeth's hand I walked up the stairs to clean the syrup from their faces and place some ground rules into effect while they were at the reservation.

"No funny business, nothing, this is not like going to a Cullen outing, you need to be on your best behavior, and if you play with the other kids, you will play fair. I could tell that they were talking amongst each other, without vocalizing the words, something they inherited from their father, which only made me more wary about the situation. "I know what you two are doing, but I swear to…crap this is a bad idea, you two are just going to have to stay home with me if you can't learn to listen."

"No mommy that's okay we heard you loud and clear, no funny business, we promise, we promise." My children were bouncing on the balls of the feet, their hands clasped, and pleading with me.

Against my better judgment, they were starting to ware me down, but I knew I needed to drive the point home. "I'm not sure about this, maybe you should wait to go to the reservation until I can be there with you."

Suddenly their deep green eyes shown up at me and their bottom lips pushed out in the most innocent look my son and daughter could manage. That was it, I was defeated. "Fine, but remember what I told you. You two will be the poster children for sweet, innocent, and charming."

Fluttering her eye lashes at me Elizabeth cooed, "Don't worry mommy we'll do anything for you."

With a wave of my hand my children were bounding out the door and down the stairs as quick s their little legs would allow. Cautiously, being sure not to miss a step, I made my way down the staircase just in time to see my kids skip out the door toward Charlie's cruiser.

With a quick hug to Seth and my step mom, they filtered out of the room leaving only Charlie and me. I leaned in and gave my father a hug and a soft peck on the cheek. He pulled away and walked silently to the door. As he reached for the handle he threw over his shoulder, "And let yourself relax, the kids will be fine. Sometimes I swear there indestructible." With that he closed the door leaning me alone. I turned around to survey my home, wondering what I should do with my day.

I felt my cell phone vibrate in my pocket. I fumbled, pathetically attempting to answer the contraption, cursing as I pulled the thin electronic to my head.

"Hello?"

"BELLLAAA!!!!"

Exhaling dramatically I said, "Good morning Alice, to what do I owe this pleasure?"