Disclaimer!!

The characters from 'Twilight' and the world of 'Twilight' do not belong to me; I am not getting any money for writing this, and 'Twilight' and its related materials are copyrighted Stephenie Meyer.

For the Love of Edward Chapter Two

I had yet to make sure her absence would not be suspicious. Chief Swan had the notion Bella was desperate to sneak out of the house, and we could not be interrupted - not tonight. By scanning his thoughts I was able to see he was planning on waking up later than usual; a perfect alibi was just waiting to be planted.

As I approached the house, I could smell her scent on the wind… floral and fruity, with a hint of purity almost like fresh dew. Her many different scents did so many wicked things to my insides, one would think I was a schoolboy again. My first stop was the bedroom of Charley, as Bella referred to him. A quick press of a few buttons set the alarm clock and hour or two later than he would assume he was waking up… just early enough for Bella to have left already.

Now where to, my Beloved? Interrogating myself about what possible motive Bella would have to leave the house at such an un-Godly hour as 8am on a Saturday, I took to her room. My mind was filled with images of the first time Bella and I went off alone to the meadow… Those are details not to be conversed with to parental units of any sort, I chuckled to myself. Laying my slightly fatigued, yet restless, body on the bed of my… well, soon-to-be-Betrothed, the scent was so strong I could have sworn she had rolled around naked on the bed. The scene began to play in my head – Bella, clad in so little, seductively gesturing toward me with her body…

"Mmm…" quietly appreciative of where my mind had taken me, I reminded myself of the task at hand. Reluctantly I rose, sifting through the shelves of memoirs until I found what I was looking for – a purple photo album decorated in pink and yellow printed flowers – and opened it to the first page. The contents of the cushioned plastic book amazed me.

A six-year-old Bella stared back at me, smiling, on the saddle of a small white pony. She had on a faded equestrian helmet and the typical wardrobe of a six-year-old in Forks – jeans, Velcro sneakers, and a hand-knit sweater. I smiled to myself, noting the growth in her features, reminding myself that, if I change her, she would not be able to experience this reflection again in another eleven years. Willing the thoughts away, putting my attention back on the photo book in my hands, a detail caught my eye; Billy Black was holding the reins of the horse. Even through the confines of the photograph his glare burned into me. 'Damned animal.'

I flipped the album to the next page and saw Bella, roughly the same age, in a ballet outfit taking a bow. The picture next to it was one of her upright, hands in a typical "ballerina" pose. I kept looking, kept verifying the details of her life I had extracted out of her mouth when I was so used to plucking it from direct memory. As she grew, there was a constant she had failed to mention to me during our question sessions – the horses. When the photo book ended she was roughly nine or ten. With a more Bella-like idea in my head, I copied her handwriting from an old biology assignment:

Dad,

Edward asked me to go horseback riding with his family today. He says that we will go early to help feed and groom the horses and then ride for most of the day. I'm going to be eating at his house for dinner, too, but there should be enough fish in the house to fix something for yourself.

Love,

Bella

I wondered to myself if that was too much to write, too detailed. In case there were complications with dinner, as Bella often mentioned to me, or he needed to contact her for whatever reason I scribbled the number of my cell phone on the edge. The note sat on the table under a shaker of salt as I made my way back to The Haven.