Perfect Timing

by xBringMeSunshine

Is there ever a perfect time to meet your past AND your future? Grieving Bella travels back to Forks. She relives her childhood and meets the boy she once loved, Edward, who is as equally broken as she is. AH, OOC, E/B oneshot.

I know it's been a while since I've written anything, so I hope that I haven't lost my stride. This was something I wrote gradually over a few months. It's not so happy-go-lucky as some of my other pieces are, but I hope you enjoy it just the same. More one-shots and (possibly) a chapter length story coming soon. Enjoy, and if you feel the need, comment - I love hearing from you!

~PT~

Perfect Timing

A Oneshot

By xBringMeSunshine

Is there ever a perfect time to meet your past and your future? Grieving Bella travels back to Forks. She relives her childhood and meets the boy she once loved, Edward, who is as equally broken as she is.

~PT~

Buttercup yellow sunshine dips and spills through the gaps in the trees as I drive past woodland and more woodland. I've been driving for a little over 10 hours and the exhaustion is beginning to take hold. The 'Welcome to Forks' sign gives me a little lift, but also makes me mourn for the loss of my mother - the only family I had left.

My mother had died just over a month ago. After a lengthy battle with cancer she'd finally given in and let the disease take her. I was supportive throughout, often travelling back at weekends to make sure she was alright. Towards the end I'd taken a leave of absence from my job - owner of an art gallery in San Francisco - and spent what little time I had left with her. Those few weeks were the hardest I've ever spent, but upon reflection I know there is no place I'd rather have been.

My mother was, in a sense, not my 'mom' but my best friend. We had a very close connection, probably because it had been just us for quite some time. I'd call her a few times a week and we'd email in between. To lose her was the final straw. I'd never quite wanted to come back to Forks because of the memories it held, but now I had to. As the only remaining Swan, I had to take care of the house and my mother's possessions - and the things she'd clung to after my father's death eight years before her own.

So, upon Angela's - my business partner - insistence, I'd taken two weeks off from work and began the journey to Forks, reliving my childhood the entire way. Even the parts that I'd partially forgotten.

I have to admit, part of this trip was to cure my curiosity. Those few weeks I spent with my mother before her death were filled with reminiscing and long talks. She had often talked of missed chances and of regrets, looking at me pointedly. And before she'd died she'd said that maybe I'd find what I was looking for if I stayed here a while. She'd said that Forks was my home, my place and the right place, no matter where I lived in the world.

So maybe, just maybe, I'll live up to my mother's words and find… whatever she thinks is out there for me.

~PT~

"Would you like to play with me?"

A timid voice passed through the sound of the wind and wrapped its way around her ears until she looked up, squinting and cupping her hand to shield her eyes from the rare sun. In front of her was a boy of around the same age, hair sticking in all directions and gangly in form. At eight years old this bronze haired boy was handsome, something that would carry on as he grew. Her staring obviously made him uncomfortable, a wrinkle forming just above his nose and his lips, previously grinning shyly, had closed into a anxious purse.

Bella, seven and happy-go-lucky in nature, cracked her own smile. "Okay."

No other words were said. The boy, whom later told her that his name was Edward, stepped forward cautiously, partly struck by this girl with the sun-lit halo that had formed around her hair. He fell into a pretzel opposite her and threaded his hand clumsily through the grass and the flowers. Together they wrote stories of princesses and dragons. Together, they fell into a friendship that seemed so simple.

Until it wasn't anymore.

~PT~

There has always been something eerily quiet about this house. Even as a child, sleeping here had been hard - it had forced me into the habit of sleeping to music. But tonight, not even Debussy can sooth me. Images and voices swirl around my head until I can't tell whether I'm alone or with other people. My mother's voice is the loudest; her last words and the few conversations she didn't sleep through cloud my mind.

I sit up quickly, leaning back against the headboard and huff into the silence as my eyes pick out the details of the room from the blackness. The chest of drawers with the necklaces sprinkled on top. I can remember the many times I would sneak into this room and take her jewellery, wishing that I'd grow up quickly and be as beautiful as her. She always told me I did. The book shelf which used to hold my father's fishing books and journals now held many self-help books - something my mother used to buy and then laugh the whole way through reading. I chuckle to myself, remembering how carefree she was.

Before I can tell what's happening, my feet are out of the sheets and pattering over the floor, my fingers dusting over the shelves and table tops. I land in the middle of the hallway; looking upwards I see the attic opening. And then I'm pulling the ladder down, climbing upwards barefoot and choking on the stale air. I look around at all the boxes, partly wondering why the hell my body thought it would be a good idea to do this now, at two in the morning. Sighing and shrugging to no-one but myself, I began to dig.

An hour or so later and there's only a few boxes left. The long day is catching up with me and I'm so tired now that I can barely keep my eyes open… until something catches my eye. Up on the top corner of a shelf, dark blue with luminous handcrafted stars, a box sits and catches my body in a trance. I feel connected to this box in some way. It scares me a little, but, as always, my curiosity wins and seconds later I'm delving into my past.

Some of the photos make me tear up. Seeing his face, someone I hadn't seen in so long and had left behind, makes my heart ache. I press the picture of him and his family to my chest, try to fill up the hole but it makes no difference. Instead, I lay down on the cold and dusty floorboards and fall asleep to memories of bronze hair and green eyes.

THE next day, with stiff shoulders and a heavy heart, I make my way to the nearest supermarket. I hide behind my makeshift shield of draping hair as I walk along the aisles. I throw things into the cart, not really worrying what I'm picking up, what I'm going to make with such ingredients. It doesn't matter to me. All that matters is that I don't get caught up in an awkward conversation with one of my mother's old friends, where I stand and pretend I know them and -

"Bella?"

I freeze. Of all the people I would meet, it would have to be her. Esme Cullen. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing but good things I can think to say about this woman - when I lived in Forks she became a second mother to me; my own mother was drowning in the depression of her bereavement and I sought out comfort from this woman, the mother of the bronze haired boy who had held my hand throughout childhood.

I tuck my hair behind my ears and seek out her face. Her caramel hair is just as I remember it to be - carelessly careful in its curls - and her face and her smile and her happy eyes. It's all the same. I feel a rush of sadness swoop down on me, reminding me of what I left behind and what I never said thank you for.

I crack a smile, try and make it look real. "Esme," I say, moving towards her. She leaves the cart and walks forward, her arms opening into a comforting semi circle. I curve into her arms and sigh, "It's so good to see you."

She stands back with her arms still around me and looks at me, through me. "You too, you too." She repeats. "How have you been? I heard about your Mum and I'm so…" She looks down at the floor and then back at me. "So sorry. I know you must hear that all the time, but it's true. I wish I could have made it to the funeral but we were away and-"

I stop her. "Don't worry about it, Esme. My Mum wouldn't have wanted much of the fanfare that was given to her. It was just… I guess it was her time to go."

Her hand curves onto my cheek and her thumb trails under my eye, taking away the blackness, or at least trying to. "You have been through so much, Bella, and at such a young age. If you ever want to talk-"

"- I know where you are." I smile and add on the end of her sentence. "Thank you, Esme. That's kind."

Esme's eyes stray into my shopping cart and them she looks back at me. "Listen, Bella, would you like to come to ours for dinner tonight? It's short notice and you might have plans," she looks again at my cart, "but Carlisle would love to see you. We'd both like to spend some time with you."

I gesture to my cart. A tin of peas. Washing up liquid. Toilet roll. Gravy granules. A few stray apples. "You might be able to tell that my head isn't in the right place." I chuckle humourlessly. I let my shoulders drop and lift up my lips. "I'd love to come for dinner."

We swap numbers and arrange times and she lets me go after another hug. It's almost as if she's trying to press all the bits of me together again and I appreciate the effort she's putting into it. But something happens when you lose a parent. It's a separate part of you that you lose, compared to the death of a friend or a lover. You lose the comfort of your childhood and hunt for the answer as to why you want to cling to that old teddy. A little bit of you breaks.

Esme pats my shoulder for the last time and sends me on my way, reminding me that more food is needed in my cart to make a proper meal in the next couple of days. I walk off, sorting out my mind. A child whips around the corner of the aisle as I make my way to leave. She almost falls, rights herself and continues to skip down towards Esme, copper pigtails jumping every which way. I turn before I see her reach Esme's arms.

~PT~

The bottle of white wine in my hand stays true to it's label. The chill is transferred onto my hands, cold but sweating, knocking on Esme's door and not knowing what will happen when I pass through it. It was lovely of her to invite me to dinner but now I'm wishing I'd made up other plans.

I would quite happily go along with this dinner if it wasn't for the overwhelming guilt I feel. The entire Cullen family had been such a staple in my childhood and with the death of my father, I'd needed them all the more. However, with my mother not coping and university seeming to be the only way to escape, I'd ran off in the other direction and cut all ties - even the ones I'd clung to so tightly, like the Cullen's. I felt like I'd thrown away all their help, all those tearful nights and encouraging smiles. I hadn't even said goodbye to Edward, and maybe that's why I felt so bad.

The door suddenly opens and I look upwards, shock written clearly on my face.

There he is. My bronze-haired prince.

We're much older now, of course. It's been seven years since I've seen him at all, let alone spoken to him, and the occasional Christmas card doesn't make up for the fact that I practically ignored him when I ran away. But I'd always remembered him. Remembered how lovely he was, how much he'd helped me. How much I'd loved him then and maybe… even now. He stands in the doorway, straight and tall and more toned that he'd been before. His hair is the same mess as it had always been and his emerald eyes hold the same intensity but the tired crows feet show years of hard work and stress. I hope none of that stress was caused by me.

I realise I'm standing there gaping at him and quickly close my mouth. He smiles, "Bella." Uttered with a sigh, wrapping around me almost like I'd never left at all. But the wistful tone laced with worry, curiosity and hurt remind me all the same.

His lips close but the curve of the smile still remains and he opens his arms, inviting me in. I ignore the fact that I'm holding the bottle and fold into his arms, letting him wrap around me and feeling, remembering the comfort such an embrace can bring. I transport back and forth in time to those nights when I'd cry and he'd hold me. It was a trustworthy and lovely place to be, his arms, and that hasn't changed.

But those aren't my arms anymore.

And I draw back before I can become too attached.

He smiles again, his eyes wandering and re-remembering my features as he reaches out and takes the bottle of wine. "For us?" I can only nod and then he ushers me inside.

The house is exactly as I remember it to be. Seven years later and it's hardly changed at all. The décor of the hall is almost a perfect replica of the image in my mind with the beige walls lined with family portraits and plants, leading down a long hall with doors leading into other rooms. At the end of the hall sits the kitchen with it's looming fridge and small breakfast table. I used to make cookies with Esme there. And then the hall leads off again and right at the end is a small room, filled to the brim with a piano, which was and probably still is, Edward's joy. He was a wonderful player and the lullabies he used to write still haunt me.

With Edward's hand on the small of my back, he leads me forward, down the hall until I reach the kitchen. The aroma of Esme's delicious cooking makes me feel instantly relaxed, so much so that the bear hug that follows shocks me completely.

"Emmett, put the girl down!"

Esme's voice sounds out between chuckles and guffaws. I am released but instantly back in his arms, softer now. I snuggle in, just like old times. "Bella-bear, I've missed you!" Emmett, Edward's older brother, murmurs. I had missed him and his bear hugs too.

Rose's hug is the next I receive. When we were younger things had been frostier between us but it seems that absence makes the heart grow a little bit fonder.

And then there's Carlisle, the man of the house, and the second best father I could think of. He beckons me forward and I comply until I am wrapped in his arms. "I'm so glad to see you, Isabella."

I draw back and narrow my eyes at his words. "You're the only person who calls me that, still to this day, do you know that?" I feel rejuvenated, new and fresh. Before this I had been wallowing in my grief and lost in the depth of the waters around me. But now, with all these people who remember me and love me like their own… it's hard to be so sad anymore. Don't get me wrong, I miss my mother just as much, but around such wonderful people, I can't help but rise above the grief like my mother would have wanted.

Carlisle chuckles, something Edward got from his father, and he taps my cheek with his palm. "I hope to always be the only person who calls you Isabella. It makes me feel special." He jokes.

I turn and look around at everyone, feeling a blush rise into my cheeks at all the attention I'm receiving. "Thank you for inviting me to dinner. It's lovely to see you all again and I hope you accept my apology for… cutting all the ties when… when I went away."

Esme clutches my hand as Carlisle pats my shoulder. "Bella, darling, no-one blames you for what you did. It was understandable. We can't imagine what you've been through and-"

"Still," I stop her, shaking my head. I turn and lock eyes with Edward. "I should have said goodbye. And that's something I'll always regret."

Edward stares through me for a moment before he nods his head and smiles a little.

I feel the guilt fall off my shoulders.

~PT~

"Well, I guess I'd better head home. Got that stupid family dinner to go to." A lock of bronze hair fell into his eyes and she swept it back, finishing by running her hand through his hair. He closed his eyes, blocking her gaze from the green intensity that she loved to look into, and relished in the feeling. She relished it to.

The last touch.

He rolled her over gently and carefully before jumping out of the hammock - the one they'd put up together many years ago, when their friendship was still new. It felt to Bella as if they were coming full circle. Starting something together and ending with it, too. He, of course, knew nothing of it, and that was the way she wanted it to remain.

She smiled at him and his body, highlighted by the fading sun. She waved his comment off. "They just want to say a proper goodbye. It's not every day that The Golden Boy gets ready for college." She joked.

He leant over and pressed his lips to her cheek. Such movements made her heart rise and her lips sigh at the same time. Their relationship had gradually become touchy until it was something that no-one commented on anymore. It was the norm. However, they'd never said anything to each other about feelings, or acting on anything. The cuddles, the kisses on the cheek, they were just part of their friendship. And she melted into that last kiss as she had done with the thousand others she'd received from him.

"Be nice. Thankful. And remember to smile for any pictures." She reminded him.

He pouted. "Are you sure you can't come with me?" Even when whining he was the most beautiful boy she'd ever laid eyes on.

She nodded, reluctantly. "Positive." She pointed toward the house. "I've got to look after Mom."

He started walking away, backwards, shouting words. "I'll see you later then, yeah?"

It was in that moment that she realised she'd never see him again. When he woke up tomorrow morning and ran around to the Swan residence, he'd be told by her mother that she'd already left for university that very morning. And if he tried to call, she'd remind herself not to pick up. It was best for him. Why would he want to tie himself to a girl who had so many problems of her own? Who would want to spend more time than necessary with a girl drowning in grief?

He'd helped her enough, and she'd never say thank you enough. But it was time for him to live for himself now, not for her.

So, with one last bounce of energy and one last burst of love for the boy who had, unknowingly, stolen her heart, she ran to catch up with him and pressed her lips to his. After, he staggered back, a lazy grin on those bruised lips. That would be the image she'd always remember of him.

Then she ducked her head, kissed his chin and said, "Goodbye." and ran into the house.

She had packing to do.

~PT~

We all sit at the dining table and eat the food Esme has provided. She must have remembered my favourite meal and the mushroom risotto tastes delicious. No restaurant has managed to match Esme's culinary talents. When I was little, and my mother and I would visit, I would sit with Edward at the breakfast bar and watch her work. She'd let me in on the secrets of her recipes. Even equipped with those nowadays, I can never get it quite right like Esme can.

The evening has been full of conversation, not all centred around me, thankfully. After my apology session everything has gone back to normal - as normal as it could be. Over the course of dinner I've been asked about my work at the gallery and whether I like living in San Francisco, nothing too personal, which is good. I feel like the intimate questions should be left for a bit. At least until I can talk to Edward privately. After all, he was the most special one out of all the Cullens to me. He was probably the one who was hit worst by my wordless goodbye, and even though his earlier smile has settled my anxiety a little, I still feel I have to apologise fully to him. It's something he completely deserves, especially since he was such a big part of my life then.

When the middle course finishes with the promise of dessert coming next, I stand and offer to collect the plates but was quickly shot down by Rose, who went into the kitchen. Esme left to organise dessert and that left me with the Cullen men.

Emmett places his wine glass back on the table after he refills it and looks at Edward. "So, where is Nessie this evening?"

For some reason I feel as if the whole world comes to a stop at his words. Yet, if the world did stop, my head begins to spin with the name that fell from Emmett's lips. Nessie. Nessie. It's a name I don't recognise and this worries me. Then I remember that I've been out of Edward's life for the last seven years and that anything could have happened and that he's probably met a thousand other people - other woman since I left him. Our friendship wouldn't have stopped him from anything.

Edward's eyes flick to mine quickly before they resettle on his own wine glass and he murmurs, "She's staying the night with Tanya's parents."

Emmett frowns and purses his lips as if he's really disappointed. "Aww, I miss my little munchkin when she isn't here. You don't bring her around enough, Ed."

"The girl has school, you know." Edward chuckles and swirls his wine around his glass. His smile falters when his eyes meet mine again. I undoubtedly look confused.

Emmett shrugs off Edward's reply. "So? She needs to see more of her Uncle Em. I still haven't taught her the rules of baseball yet. And anyway, she's bright. What can she learn in pre-school that she can't learn from me?"

Edward shakes his head. "Many, many things, Em. Believe me." He finishes sarcastically before meeting my gaze again and then he sighs as he puts his glass down. The table quietens as Emmett and Carlisle realise my presence again. They make excuses and leave the room, all the while I'm caught in Edward's eyes and I'm desperate for answers.

He clears his throat. "Nessie - Vanessa… is my daughter."

My voice gets caught in my throat as I try and take it all in. I'm suddenly very tired. It's been a night full of emotion and this just ices the cake. "You have a daughter?"

I'm beyond surprised, not at the fact that Edward moved on and had a family (many of my San Francisco friends have done the same by my age) but I'm more surprised at the fact that my mother never mentioned it. She's remained in Forks and we'd spoken regularly. This wasn't something you forgot to mention, not when her sole goal in life before my father's death had been trying to set us up together.

Then again, she was probably shattered too, when she realised that her dreams would never come true.

Just like my heart is shattered now.

I'd never realised how attached I was to Edward, but now I do.

I definitely do.

He leans back in his chair, a line forming in between his eyebrows. He runs one hand through his hair and breathes out, a smile developing on his lips as he thinks of his child. Vanessa. "Yes, I do." His smile widens. "She's five and she's beautiful and she's smart and she's mine. She's my daughter." He rambles proudly, finishing with looking in my eyes bashfully, as if I would criticise his attachment to his own child; as if he wasn't sure how I'd react.

"That's… that's wonderful, Edward. I never-uh, I never knew. My mother, she… she never…" I shake my head and smile in return, even though my heart is bursting needing answers. "Congratulations. I mean, I'm a little late but…"

"But thank you, anyway, Bella." He finishes with a thankful smile.

I choke out my words, nervous and twitching, unsure of how to word what I'm trying to articulate. "And you… you raise her with…" I sigh, bringing out eyes together. Mine fill with tears that I don't want to show. I hope he doesn't notice. "Are you married?"

There. It's out.

It's then that I realise everyone else has returned to the room and they're standing in the walkway and their stances are tensed. Oh God. What have I done?

He looks down and absently fingers his… empty… third finger. Hope rises in my chest. "Not anymore," he whispers, "My wife, Tanya… died two years ago."

My hand, shaking, clutches my mouth. What do you say to that? Carlisle moves to his seat and clutches Edward's shoulder on the way round. Everyone else moves, silently, back to their seats. I stare at the man I used to know, who now looks so… broken and helpless. I have come here and closed wounds and inadvertently opened new ones. I never wanted to hurt Edward again, but… I seem to have done, anyway. He lifts his eyes to mine and I see the pain.

All I can say is, "I'm so sorry." and hope that that's enough.

He nods once more and then excuses himself from the table.

I left the house before he returned.

~PT~

I spent the next two days in my mother's house, packing up boxes of her things and sorting through garments which could be thrown away. The grief consumed me and I spent many hours just staring at her things and remembering times she'd used them or worn them. I felt my heart break every second. I'd put this off long enough and for this very reason. I knew that I wouldn't be able to cope with this; that all the tears I'd refused to shed would come tumbling down. Pair that with the guilt I felt about Edward and the way I had left things and I was a complete mess. I hid myself away from the world in my own box of issues and pretended that all else didn't exist. The pain of not seeing Edward was better than the pain of remembering that fateful dinner and his broken facial expressions.

Caused by me.

I had been shacked up in the house for so long, in my own dull bubble, that when the doorbell rang on Friday, just after one, I was startled out of my stupor. I gather myself together at the sound and shove socks onto my feet, stumbling down the stairs. I catch sight of myself in the mirror in the hallway and curse softly. I look as bad as I feel, but there was no time to fix that now. I wrap my cardigan around me, protection from people and the cold, and open the door, peek through the gap.

To see no-one.

"Miss Bella, I'm down here." A soft giggle interrupts my thoughts and I blink, my head snapping downwards. And I stare, shocked.

She was all Edward. It was clear as day whom her father was. She had bouncing bronze ringlets and bright green eyes with a ring of blue circling the iris - they shone up at me and made me want to smile for the first time in days. A button nose lead down to small and pouty lips. She had obviously just been at school, evidence in her little blue dress, proper shoes, black jacket and her High School Musical rucksack. That and the dirty socks were the only thing that made it clear she was a child. She also seemed tall for her age and she seemed as confident as they came… especially for a child who had lost her mother so tragically.

She beams up at me and knocks again at the door. "Can you open up, please, Miss Bella?"

My eyebrows scrunch before I remember that I still have the chain on the door. I smile softly and reply, "One second." before I close the door carefully and re-open it, letting me see Edward's beautiful daughter in full view. She is a little gem, I can just tell.

She reaches upwards and sticks out her hand. "Hello, my name is Vanessa but you can call me Nessie."

I smile wider at her and shake her hand. "Hi, Nessie. I'm Bella."

She scrunches her nose and grins back. "I know. My Daddy told me." She points behind her and my eyes follow her little fingers. Edward stands in the distance, just far enough away to give Nessie her independence but still have a close eye on her. When I look, he looks away, almost shy and nervous, before he lifts his eyes again and gives a small, unsure wave. I wave back. His smiles and then it slips and then suddenly he's in front of me.

He shakes his head and sighs, taking Nessie's hand in his own. They are a perfect picture together. "I'm sorry, I think we've come at a bad time… have we?"

He looks up at me meaningfully and it's then that I realise what I must look like. I start to calm down my hair and wipe at my eyes.

Nessie looks up at me. "Are you okay, Miss Bella?" I nod and make up some excuse about feeling a little ill. "Do you need some warm milk?"

I look up at Edward, surely confused. He coughs back a smile. "Uh, when Ness has an upset stomach I give her warm milk… and it helps, doesn't it, honey?"

Nessie nods furiously. I shrug and smile back down at her. "Well, I guess I'll have to try that some time, then." She nods again.

Edward looks at me. "Anyway, there's a reason why we're here, obviously." He pinches his nose, something I remember him doing when he was stressed. Old habits die hard, I suppose. I like it that way. "I just wanted to make sure everything was… after dinner… and I wanted to apologize. I shouldn't-"

"Please!" I stop him. "Don't apologize for anything. If anything, I should be apologizing to you. I was callous and I shouldn't have asked so impolitely and I just… I shouldn't have left, you know." I was acutely aware of the five year old standing beside us and tried to put into words what I was feeling, while hoping they were strong enough.

He looks at me for a while as if he's rememorizing my face again. It makes me blush. He clears his throat. "Well, yes, um… thank you."

Nessie tugs on his hand. "Daddy, can I ask now?" Edward closes his eyes, breathes out and then nods at Nessie. She turns to me, smiling brightly. "Would you like to come to our house for dinner tomorrow? We're going to have las-an-ya and Daddy says that's your favourite."

It's Edward's turn to blush when I look up at me, curiously. "That and mushroom risotto, of course." He frowns, "At least it was that when you still lived here. It's been a while, though."

"It's been too long…" I trail off, wiping any remains of tears from my eyes before turning to Nessie again. It was about time I did something other than burrow away. "I would love to come for dinner."

She claps her hands excitedly. "Yay. Then after we can play with my dolls and then you could read me a story and then-"

Edward grabs her hand. "I'll see you tomorrow at six thirty." He hands me a piece of paper with his address and I smile, thanking him. "Bye."

I watched as they walked hand in hand down the path.

~PT~

I've been in Edward and Nessie's house for a couple of hours now, settling into their routine but always reminded that I'm the newcomer from Nessie's observant eyes. We've eaten the las-an-ya that Nessie helped to make, which was fantastic and I told her so - she smiled so brightly and it made my heart expand. We've cleared the dishes and Nessie has been cleaned up from the bubbles she managed to get everywhere. Nessie has been put to bed and I've read her a story. The only thing left for me to do is… leave, but I don't really want to. And I don't think Edward wants that either.

The life they've made together after Tanya's death (in a car accident I was told) is spectacular. There are points I've observed that miss the presence of a wife and mother, but they take it in their stride. Overall, Nessie is one of the loveliest children I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. She is kind, she is thoughtful and she is happy. Edward has done a great job of raising her and I can honestly say that, when she grows up, she'll be a wonderful woman. There are parts of her that are Edward and other parts that are presumably her mother. I think Nessie misses her, obviously, but in her own way she is letting go of the past. Spending time with her, the moments when it was just her and I, were special in a way. She'd lost her mother and even though I was much older and more experienced in life than she is, I was experiencing the loss of a mother too. Nessie seemed to sense this and made me feel completely at ease. It was obvious that a woman's presence in their house was different (apart from Esme) but unlike other children who would have been stubborn towards the newbie, Nessie welcomed me. And liked me, too.

And to be let into her little bubble of friends from only a short time of knowing her, that made me feel infinitely better.

Edward comes into the living room to find me standing, unsure of what I'm supposed to be doing. His glances all throughout dinner have left me confused and thrilled at the same time. He watched me eating, watched me interact with his daughter, watched me constantly with this endearing look in his eye that said… I don't know what it said. All I know is that when his eyes were on me, my body flushed and my heart raced and for that tiny moment I felt happier than I had in days.

Edward has always been able to do that to me, as far back as I can remember. He calms me, makes me feel relaxed and content in any situation. The boy I remember has changed significantly and has gone through the most horrible of experiences but he is still, essentially, the boy I fell in love with when I was a teenager. And the boy who still held my heart. I'd never really given it much thought recently. Soon after the move to San Francisco, he and my mother had been all I could think about - it was a constant circuit of what I'd left behind. But then my mother became ill and for the last eight months my mind had been resolutely on her and her health. Now that she was gone, my mind was still on her - I was grieving - but I had free little spaces, most of which were on the man standing in front of me. And spending time with him over the last few days has brought back feelings that I never thought I'd feel again… not just happiness, but loving feelings; the type only he had been able to bring out in me… and it got me realising that this man, this was the one I wanted.

I hoped that those secretive glances meant he wanted me too.

But even though he was what I wanted, I wasn't sure if I was ready.

He fills the wine glasses half full with the red liquid and turns to me, frowning. "Are you not going to sit?"

I stutter, unsure of where I'm going. "I, uh… do you want me to?"

Such a simple question seems to loaded with feelings and other questions that he takes a while to answer. He pushes a glass into my hand and his fingers brush mine for longer than they need to; purposeful. He looks into my eyes and I want to look away because the feelings he evokes in me are so full of life that they scare me. Make me feel guilty.

I'm supposed to be grieving.

His voice is soft but sure when he answers. "Yes," His eyes are strict and beautiful. "I do, please." He gestures to the couch beside us. "Sit. We should… catch up."

Catch up seemed so simple, like nothing difficult is attached to such an action. I try to steady my heartbeat with this reminder that it was just catching up. But his eyes and his actions and his tone lead me down the route to thinking that it is so much more than 'catching up'. It is talking and it is working through things.

Oh God.

We struggle through for the first fifteen minutes of how are you doing and what have you been up to. Things that he already knows and that are, in some ways, silly things to ask me, anyway. I am told tales of Edward's life and tales of Nessie and the growing up she has done… since. But this type of talk was never going to last, no matter how 'easy' it was.

Edward leans into the couch, turns his body towards mine and rests his face on his hand. His wine glass rests on his knee. "Bella… are you happy?"

I shuffle in my seat and stare into the swirling pool of red wine. I have to really think about his question because… is there ever a real answer to this question? An answer that is completely certain, completely true? I don't think so. I clear my throat and chance a glance at his face. "I don't know. Is anyone ever truly happy?" I chuckle humourlessly. "I just lost the only family I had left. So no, I'm not completely happy. That's one of the first things I would change if I could… I'm sure you know the feeling," He nods solemnly. "But that's just life. It happens and you can't change it.

"But tonight, I've met a beautiful little girl who has made me believe that the next generation isn't going to be totally screwed." This makes Edward laugh but also beam with pride. "And I have a fantastic job; I don't have to worry financially, which not many people are fortunate enough to say. And I have wonderful friends…" I blush, "And I've found your family again… and you. And that - all those things together make me happy. So, there you go. I'm not unhappy."

He inches closer, still unsure. "I… make you happy?"

I nod, intoxicated by his presence but in the back of my mind I wonder where this is going; what I'm doing. "Yes. You did and you do."

A bit of hair falls into my eyes and his reaches out, puts it back in place. The slightest of touches make my body shiver. Traitor. He sighs and his breath on my skin gives me goose bumps. "I want to make you happy. I think… I think I could, make you happy, that is."

A sigh escapes me lips, stuttering with the nervousness I feel. He is acting so loving towards me and this is what I've wanted more than anything. But… this isn't the right time. And that kills me. I'm divided. Then again, I can't help but reply, "I think you could, too."

He keeps his eyes on me as he reaches out and puts his wine glass on the coffee table across from the couch we're both sitting on. He's so close to me now and I can feel this buzz between us. The pads of his fingers cross my cheek, making me shiver and brighten. He clears his throat and speaks in a whisper as if anything louder would break the spell he's cast over me. I'm hypnotized, but not completely unaware of the situation, of everything around me. Of my guilty thoughts. He brings me back to the present. "I know this is a lot to ask of you, Bella. God knows how you're truly feeling at the moment with everything going on… and me on top of that, it's too much to ask of you." His gaze spears me. "But I'm selfishly going to ask anyway." His hands frame my face. "Can I? Will you let me make you happy?"

I feel a wetness on my cheek and realise that I've started crying, silently. "You make me happy by just being round me, Edward. It's always been this way. And seeing you with Nessie has given me more joy than I've felt in a long time." I thread my fingers through his hands on my cheeks and guide them into my lap, looking into his eyes earnestly. "But this works both ways. I want to make you happy. I want us to be happy… together. And I just don't think I can." I shake my head, tears fly. "I'm a mess and I don't want to mess your life up any more than circumstances already have."

He tugs on out joined hands, trying to get me closer. I go, helplessly. I'd go anywhere for him, broken and bruised as I am. Because it is his presence alone that makes me feel lighter. He tugs again. "Listen to me, okay? The whole world is a mess, Bella. My whole life has been full of messy moments that culminate into the path I'm walking on. And I shared that path with my wife and now I'm walking alone, with my daughter by my side, and I don't want that any more. I don't want it to be just us; I want to share that with you. And if that means you bring all your 'mess' with you, then that's fine. Because what is life, what is love, without a little challenge?" He ends, begging with me to believe.

"All I'm asking is that you try-"

"I'm only here for two weeks." I remind him.

He shakes it off. "Keep that time period or extend it. Whatever. All I want is for us to give this a go. You drowned once and I lost you for years. You're drowning again and this time… please let me save you." He presses his lips to my temple. "Let me help you. Let me love you… if that is what you want?"

Shaking, I lift my own hand to his cheek ad rest it there, watch it tremor. With stilted movements I lean in and press my lips to his, let him take control. It's just as sweet as I remember his kiss being and it makes me feel whole and right and… happy.

I close my eyes and softly, I surrender. "That's what I want."

~PT~

Seven Months Later

There are times in life that put you down. They drag you, put you through emotions and extremes that you believed weren't possible. They make you question your life and what you're doing; who you're going through life with.

And then there are the moments that save you. From as far back as I can remember, Edward has been saving me. My life, like many others, has not been a walk in the park. I've experienced pain and loss… but so has Edward, and in many ways that has made it easier for us to work on what we have, because we understand what each other has been through.

Our journey could never be described as easy. We were together and then we were apart and then we joined again, scarred and disjointed, but still as one. After the night that brought us together again, Edward took me to his bed and laid with me the entire night. I felt safe in this arms and for the first time since my mother's death I didn't cry myself to sleep - and I didn't need Debussy either. The next few days were hard and stilted. I had to continue to patch up my life whilst packing my mother's things. But at the end of that tunnel was a gorgeous man and his lovely daughter, who were my salvation throughout it all. Nessie never asked why my presence was suddenly always there, she just accepted it and continued with her life and apparently, I slotted in quite nicely. It was just one more piece of the puzzle but gradually, we'd complete it.

When my two weeks were up, I sat down with Edward and we discussed what would happen now. He asked how I was feeling about 'us' and I replied resolutely that without him, I wouldn't be as happy and as close to being whole if he and Nessie hadn't been there. His love and Nessie's growing companionship gave me the strength to grieve and let go, whilst still hanging onto her memory. But then we had to go back into the real world from our own bubble. I packed up some of my things and went back to Chicago. I had talks with Angela who agreed that I could keep my share of the art gallery and work from Forks. It was a blessing.

I realise now that Forks had always been my home, my place and the right place.

Just as my mother had said.

It has now been seven months since Edward and I got officially together and I couldn't be happier.

The bright winter sun bursts through the gap in the curtains and I scrunch my eyes together to try and block it out. A deep chuckle sounds right in my ear and a smile settles onto my face. His gentle kisses begin at my ear and travel down my neck, my spine, until they round my hip and I sigh - what a wonderful way to start the day. Edward's hands, as I found out not to long after I came back to Forks, tend to wander when clothing is unapparent, and this is no exception. Like I'd complain. His hand slides up from my ribs to my breast where he palms it gently, my soft moans breathing through my lips like a prayer. His other hand sneaks down and trails from my hip bone to the place I need him most and plays me like his most treasured instrument, leaving me breathless.

"Good morning." He murmurs into my ear again and I whimper, unable to form words. He chuckles again before he rolls me over onto my back and proceeds to kiss me thoroughly.

His lips trail down my body again until he replaces his fingers with his tongue and laps and laps and laps until I can hardly breath and the only thing I can do is let go and give into the euphoria. As I calm down he emerges from between my thighs, my juices on his lips, licking.

My hands thread into his hair and I pull him in and kiss him with everything I have because he's the one I love and he's the reason I'm here, in Forks and also in mind. We continue to kiss and I sigh upon his lips as he slides into place and we continue to make love as the sun rises. This is where I forever want to be.

I'm not completely fixed; I don't think you ever 'finish' grieving. There are times when a certain phrase or a certain action will make me want to curl up in our bedroom for the rest of the day. But with Edward by my side, and little Nessie completing our family, I know everything will work out the way it is supposed to.

The End.