A huge, heartfelt thank you to everyone who reviewed Chapter 1. It truly meant the world to me. A special thank you to solareclipses for her encouragement. If you are not reading her story, Sins of the Piano Man, you are missing something truly great. I squee like a fangirl whenever she updates. Go, read. You will not be disappointed. It is pure magic.

Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. My heart belongs to Edward Cullen.


Chapter Two: Weight of the World


The cafeteria at Forks High School still smelled of pine-scented floor cleaner, old grease, and pepperoni pizza. Layered above these scents was the ever-present aroma of damp and moss and green that permeated every inch of this rainy peninsula.

Of course, for those of us who were not of the human persuasion, all this was only a bottom note underlying the gathered scents of the blood that pounded thickly through the veins of each of our classmates.

And for me, all this was as nothing compared to the ambrosial perfume that came from the girl walking next to me, her hand in mine.

It was surreal to be here again, walking through the cafeteria doors with my Bella. As if the past six months had never happened.

Oh, how I wished that were the case.

I ignored the repulsive, doughy scent of limp pizza and the salty, wet aroma of soggy sandwiches made with ham of dubious origin. I wallowed instead in freesia and lavender and warm and Bella, layered with strawberry from her favorite shampoo. Bella's delectable fragrance was infinitely more appealing than anything on offer at this counter.

As I breathed her in, I tried to figure out what on earth I was going to do.

I had not seen a morsel of food pass her lips since that single small bite of strawberry Pop-Tart yesterday morning.

She'd slept straight through lunch time yesterday, stirring only to murmur my name every so often, her forehead creasing as she spoke, then smoothing back out under my feather-light touch. I let her sleep, her exhausted body curled against my side, her arm across my chest. It wasn't until two o'clock, when I heard the sound of Charlie's police cruiser approaching, that I was forced to rouse her, not wanting to leave without saying goodbye.

I was banished from the house now that Charlie was home, and would have to sneak out Bella's bedroom window before he knew I was there. I would only be allowed to return during my designated visiting hours of seven p.m. to nine-thirty p.m.

She was alive, and she was near me, and that would have to be enough to sustain me until I could be with her again.

I hadn't gone far, though. Being away from her made my chest ache as though I couldn't get enough air, even though I didn't actually need air in the first place.

I needed her, though. She was my air.

So I'd sat, high up in the branches of the spruce tree outside the kitchen window, and listened to her day. There was the quiet rustle of denim and cotton as she hurriedly dressed, then stumbled down the stairs to greet Charlie, who was quite proud of the bucketful of fish he'd brought home. I heard Bella's sweet voice as she promised to cook some for dinner.

Later, there was the papery sound of pages being steadily turned as she read a book. The low roar of a basketball game on the television, and Charlie's slanderous mutterings about the incompetent referee. Then the clatter of dishes and pans and the sizzling pop of oil as she prepared their dinner. Their dinner conversation was quiet, and even more stilted than usual. Their relationship was still a bit strained owing to my return.

I wondered if Charlie would ever forgive me.

I'd been reassured by the sound of two forks scraping two plates. She was eating. Soon her body would begin to recover from the trauma I'd put her through. Her cheeks would fill out, her jutting collarbones would soften, her ribs would no longer be prominent. She would be healthy and vibrant once again.

The relief that flowed through me at this thought was indescribable. My Bella was going to be alright.

I'd held her all night, lost in the sweet scent of her blood and her murmured dreamings, relishing the feel of her in my arms and basking in that relief.

I had, of course, been forbidden to pick her up for school this morning, as per Charlie's new rules. I'd imagined her at the kitchen table, crunching on Rice Krispies and reading a book, as I readied for school and drove to meet her.

But I'd heard her stomach rumbling all morning. Long, drawn-out, angry-sounding growls of neglect and outrage.

I was sure that those sounds were loud enough to be heard by any human within a ten-foot radius, let alone a vampire with ultra-sensitive ears. She knew I could hear every last grumble.

The first time it had happened – a tiny growl like that of a small kitten – she'd turned to me and grinned, rolling her eyes at our long-standing private joke. Time to feed the human. But there was something wrong with her eyes. They were uneasy, and the smile didn't reach them.

I'd smiled back, enjoying our shared joke. But as the morning wore on, those angry, frustrated sounds from her stomach came louder, and more frequently. And Bella didn't smile any longer when they came.

Though I'd tried to catch her eye, she didn't look at me. Not directly, anyway. Quick, furtive glances that never met my eyes. Her face was wary, almost...panicked. Her arms wrapped around her middle, as though she were attempting to smother the telltale noises.

Something was very, very wrong here.

I'd kept her hand in mine and my eyes on her face as we'd walked to the cafeteria after class. She'd refused to meet my questioning eyes, though I knew she felt them on her, as a blush lit her face with color. She'd kept her eyes fixed straight ahead as we'd joined the line at the food counter.

I reached around her now and lifted one of the blue plastic trays from the stack before us.

"What would you like to eat, love?" I tried very, very hard to keep my voice even and smooth as I slid the tray along the counter. She would eat. She had to eat.

Her eyes widened with panic as she stared at the food before her. She seemed to shrink back against my side as I pushed her gently in front of me down the line.

"I'm not really that hungry – "

"Bella." Her name came out a bit strangled-sounding. I fought to compose myself before I spoke again. "I think your stomach has been saying otherwise this morning," I said lightly. I tried to inject a teasing note into my voice as I reminded her of our running joke.

A joke that had not been so funny today.

She tensed further against me at my words. She didn't speak for a moment, but nodded slowly. "I think I'll just get a salad today."

My jaw clenched as I reached to place a bowl of salad on the tray. What was going on here?

"Here's your salad. What else would you like?" My voice did not betray me this time. It remained steady and even and gave nothing away.

She was silent for a moment, and very, very still. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "Pizza."

I added a slice of the vile-smelling stuff to the tray. Then, for good measure, I added one of everything else. Sandwich, apple, granola bar, orange juice, milk. Maybe something here would tempt her appetite.

She eyed my selections with palpable apprehension, still refusing to meet my eyes. I wrapped an arm around her waist and steered her gently toward the cashier.

I pulled out my wallet to pay for Bella's lunch, just as I always had. It was one of the few things she'd ever allowed me to pay for. I would have bought her anything and everything she wanted. A new car, a new computer with wireless Internet, all the books she could read.

Instead I was forced to content myself with paying for her lunch.

I felt Bella shift against my side as we waited our turn to pay. I looked down to see her pulling her battered leather wallet from the front pocket of her school bag. I frowned in confusion. What was she doing? Did she think I would expect her to pay?

"Bella?"

She looked up, but her eyes rose no higher than the collar of my shirt.

"What are you doing, love?" I was suddenly, abruptly terrified that she would take this away from me.

No.

She allowed me to do so little for her. Surely she would not deny me this one small thing. I wanted so badly to take care of her in any way she would allow.

I had so much to make up for.

She seemed to be confused, her brow furrowing slightly as she responded. "I'm getting some money to pay for my lunch." Her shadowed eyes finally met mine questioningly.

"Bella." Her name ripped through my suddenly tight throat. My voice sounded raw and desperate. "Please allow me to pay."

Two tiny creases appeared between her eyebrows as she regarded me. "Edward," she said quietly, "I'm perfectly capable of paying for my own lunch, you know. I'm not destitute." She tried to soften her refusal with a weak attempt at humor, her mouth quirking in a small smile. Her eyes dropped from mine as she opened her wallet and riffled through the few bills inside.

I struggled to rein in the absurdly strong feelings of panic and helplessness that were threatening to drown me. "I know you aren't destitute. I just...I want to take care of you, Bella." My voice was soft and strained.

Her voice was almost absent as she pulled out a five-dollar bill, sounding as nonchalant as if she were speaking of the weather.

"I've managed to take care of myself for the past six months, Edward," she murmured, her head still lowered over her wallet. Coins jingled as she poked through her change.

Her words, spoken so casually, hit me like a fist to the stomach, hard and brutal.

I heard myself gasp. I felt like a fish out of water, gaping for air. I had a sudden, hazy flash of a distant memory from my long-ago human life. Watching the ground rushing toward me as my small child's body tumbled from the rough branches of the tallest oak tree in our backyard, feeling the air pressed forcibly out of my lungs as I hit the plush green grass, the endless, agonizing moment of terror as I struggled in vain to regain my breath.

Bella gasped, too, the sound an echo of my own pain. Her hand moved to cover her mouth as her horrified eyes lifted to mine.

"I didn't mean-" she seemed to struggle with her breathing as well. Now there were two gaping, suffocating fish waiting to be gutted. Her head moved frantically back and forth in denial as her huge brown eyes searched mine.

"That's not what I meant, Edward." Her words burst out of her lips like a flurry of panicked birds escaping a cage. I could feel my face frozen in a mask of pain and shame. There had been no condemnation, no reproach, no criticism in her voice as she'd spoken those words. Yet I felt thoroughly shamed, chastised by my own guilt and regret.

It was true.

I had left her to take care of herself. I'd abandoned her. I didn't deserve to have her trust me to care for her.

Not anymore.

There was a soft thud as Bella's wallet hit the floor, then the discordant tinny sound of scattered coins as they spilled out. Her hands fluttered uncertainly around my face, finally coming to rest with one palm on either side of my jaw. She stood on her toes, trying to bring our faces closer together.

It took a tremendous effort to force my contorted features to smooth over, but I did the best I could. She tugged gently until I dropped my face closer to hers, our eyes nearly level. Hers looked much too large for her thin, gaunt face. They were filled with fear and self-castigation.

"You know that's not what I meant," she repeated, her eyes begging, pleading with mine for understanding, for forgiveness. "I'm so, so sorry I said that, Edward. I didn't mean—I never want to hurt you. I swear I wasn't trying to blame you for anything. You know I don't—" Her words came faster and faster until she suddenly broke off, breathing fast and shallow. I could hear her pulse increasing, like the rapid fluttering of a cornered animal's heartbeat.

I quickly wrapped my fingers over hers where they still cupped my face, squeezing them gently. I had to calm her down. I tried to keep my voice from wavering, though it still trembled slightly as I spoke.

"Don't. It's alright, it's alright. You didn't do anything wrong."

Her breath hitched. "But I—"

"Shhh. I know you didn't mean anything unkind by saying what you did. You don't have an unkind bone in your body, love." I tried to smile, but I could feel it fall flat on my face. "And even if you had meant to hurt me...well, it's nothing but the truth."

She shook her head, her eyes glistening as tears gathered at the corners. I stroked her fingers under mine in what I hoped was a soothing rhythm. "I understand why you left, Edward. You know I don't blame you for it."

"I know, sweetheart. You're the most forgiving creature I have ever known." I tried another smile; it felt a bit more natural this time.

She kept her gaze steady on mine. "There was nothing to forgive."

"Oh, Bella." I was suddenly overwhelmed with my adoration for this beautiful, loving, generous girl whose outer fragility belied an inner strength that few, if any, could equal. Her heart was as big as the universe.

I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, another to her nose, each cheek, and finally her beautifully stubborn chin. Her breathing and heartbeat slowly began to calm as I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her close and pressing my lips to the top of her head, feeling her melting into my embrace.

My Bella. How could I ever deserve her?

I let my hands move gently up and down her back until she was limp in my arms, paying no mind to the stares and whispers, nor to the line that continued to move around us. When her heart had slowed nearly to her normal rhythm, I spoke softly, hesitantly into her hair.

"It's my honor to care for you, love, if you will allow it." I took a deep, steadying breath, inhaling strawberries and flowers. "Please, please allow me to pay for your lunch."

She pulled back a bit to look at me. Her smile was tiny and cautious, her eyes retaining a touch of sadness that made my chest clench. Her voice was quiet and small. "Okay."

I let out the breath I'd been holding, sighing with relief. My words were fervent with gratitude. "Thank you."

I attempted her favorite crooked smile, hoping to melt the sadness from her eyes. I bent to retrieve her wallet, tucking the scattered coins and forgotten five-dollar bill back into their compartments, then placing it firmly back in her school bag which hung over my shoulder.

By the time we arrived at our table, Alice was already deeply involved in a conversation with Angela Weber about the latest fashions in "L. A." Angela's eyes were slightly glazed as she listened with a somewhat horrified fascination to Alice's endless prattling about up-and-coming designers and the merits of three-inch heels versus four. But kind soul that she was, Angela nodded politely and occasionally murmured agreement.

Angela's had been the kindest mind I'd heard this morning as we'd re-entered the halls of Forks High. As Bella and I had walked hand in hand from the parking lot toward our first class, the deluge had begun. The whispers and stares increased with each step we took. I, of course, had the added benefit—or curse— of hearing the thoughts of everyone we passed.

So it's true. They really are back, after all this time. Katie Marshall was in awe.

Wonder if they're all back. An image of Rosalie's face flashed through the lustful teenage mind of Lee Stephens. I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

I can't believe Bella took him back after he dumped her like that. This from a very disgruntled Tyler Crowley as he saw our linked hands. His mind flashed to a painfully sharp image of Bella's ghostly white face, eyes blank as she stared into empty space. A blue plastic tray of food sat in front of her. Untouched apple, still-wrapped sandwich, unopened carton of milk.

I'd flinched.

Angela's always-gentle thoughts were full of nothing but happiness for Bella. Oh, I'm so glad he's back. She needs him. It was obvious they were so in love with each other... Bless that girl for her unending kindness.

The cautious assessment of Ben Cheney as he questioned my intentions. He'd better be back for good. It wouldn't be fair for him to lead Bella on. After what happened the last time he left... His mind showed me a very concerned-looking Angela as she questioned a listless Bella about their English assignment, receiving flat monosyllabic responses.

He had no need to worry. The last time I left her would truly be the last time I left her.

Jessica Stanley's vapid assessment of the situation. Guh. He would go back to her. She's not even that pretty, and she's practically a skeleton these days. Maybe he'll get tired of her soon... The petty girl would have a very long wait if she expected that to happen.

And the succinct reaction of Mike Newton, one-time bane of my existence when I thought him a rival for Bella's affections. Aw, hell. Cullen's back.

Some things never changed.

I pretended not to see the lip curl that further marred the perpetually scowling face of Lauren Mallory as Bella and I took our places at the table. I tuned out the typically banal thoughts of those surrounding us, focusing all of my attention on the girl at my side.

The only girl in the world, as far as I was concerned.

I carefully placed the lunch tray squarely in front of her on the table. Normally I would take some food for myself, as a prop to blind the oblivious humans around me to my true nature. Today I had no patience for such frivolous charades. My every thought—every fiber of my cold stone being—was focused entirely on her.

The seconds ticked slowly by as she stared at the food before her, almost as if she wasn't sure what she was meant to do with it.

Fifteen seconds.

She didn't move.

Twenty-six seconds.

She didn't move.

Please eat.

Thirty-nine seconds.

Please, please. Eat.

Tension rolled off her body in waves as her fingers twisted together in her lap.

Forty-one seconds.

She didn't move.

Forty-seven seconds.

Please.

Fifty-two seconds.

I couldn't stand it any longer.

I reached my hand out toward her face, sliding my fingers carefully under her chin. I lifted her face gently toward mine until our eyes finally met.

My stomach dropped.

The look in her eyes...oh, Bella. The soft brown irises contained an ocean of anxiety, pain, and panicked fear. Her eyes implored mine, but what they were begging for, I didn't know.

But I knew in that moment that the implications of my accursed actions on that black day in September were even more far-reaching than I had thought.

My mind raced frantically with questions, fears, bitter self-recriminations, and plans.

I didn't know what to do to soothe her, to erase that wretched look from her haunted eyes. I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. I brought my free hand up to caress her face, rubbing my fingers softly over the anxious lines of her forehead, then cupping both hands around her hollowed cheeks. I smoothed my thumbs over the shadows beneath her eyes with the lightest of touches, over and over again, as if I could remove them with my touch.

We stayed that way until the bell rang to end lunch, silent, our eyes locked, hers pleading, mine questioning.

And no matter how I tried, the shadows remained.