i still don't own anything

October 15th

"Hey, Bella-ella-ding-dong," Edward greeted as he hauled a bag of groceries into my kitchen.

He was too damn cheerful. I mustered up the most convincing smile I could, but even I knew it fell short. Edward chose not to notice.

"Hey, Eddie."

I attempted to get up to help, but he motioned for me to sit back down. I sat obediently while he pulled over another chair, propped my feet up, and set a pint of Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey on the table in front of me.

"They were out of the Stephen Colbert one. I hope Chunky Monkey is okay."

He chewed slightly on the corner of his mouth, waiting for my approval. He was always so nervous around me these days.

"Chunky Monkey is fine. You don't have to keep doing this, you know," I pointed out, just as I had every week when he brought me ice cream and groceries.

I also reminded him every time he stopped by to check up on me-everyday-and when he called-also daily. Twice. He usually just ignored me instead of arguing. I'm too tired and achy to protest much more than that.

A pint of ice cream later, and the food is already put away. Edward sat on my counter, watching me feed the kitten leftover drops of my ice cream.

"Need anything done around the house? Light bulb change, drain unclogged, anything like that?"

"I'm pregnant, not crippled, Eddie. I can change a light bulb and work a plunger."

My words came out harsh and frustrated. Edward dropped his eyes and I regretted my tone.

He's only trying to be supportive, I reminded myself. None of this is his fault.

"I'm sorry. Hormones and shit and-uh-I'm just sorry."

He shrugged off my words. He had gotten used to my outbursts lately, which really only made me feel worse.

We sat in silence, avoiding each other's eyes. He played with the spacer in his ear while I admired how long my nails had gotten since I started taking the prenatal vitamins. When he began drumming his fingers on the counter top, I knew he was working up the courage to ask me something. I had a feeling it was a question I didn't want to answer.

"Have you packed up any of Jasper's stuff yet?" he asked tentatively, not really meeting my eyes, but looking passed me at an invisible speck on the wall.

The mention of Jasper's name caused an ache in my womb. It was almost as if the baby knew what had happened and already missed it's father.

"I don't mind doing it. I did it for Aunt Maria."

I rolled my eyes involuntarily. Only two months and Maria had practically erased all evidence of her son's existence, apart from a few pictures. Her newest spiritual guide had advised her to move on with her life and apparently the only way to heal was to remove the memory of her only child and travel. The last I had heard, she was sunbathing in Aruba with an overly tan beach hunk that was younger than her lost son was.

"I can do it myself." When I felt like it.

There was no law saying that I ever had to give up sleeping in his favorite t-shirt or using the pillow that still faintly held his scent.

"You have to clean out the spare room before the baby comes."

"I know that." I gritted my teeth. "That's still six months away and it would probably be easier on me if the baby slept in our-my-room for the first few months. I'll get to it when I get to it."

Which was likely to be never.

"Fine."

Again, he refused to argue. That only irritated me further, remembering that before all of this Edward and I used to fight like siblings. Now that I was grieving and pregnant, he gave in way too easily.

He pushed himself off of the counter and his landing scared the kitten that had been lounging on the windowsill. She scampered off, knocking a glass over in the process. I tried to jump up and save it, but wasn't fast enough. It hit the tiled floor on its lip and shattered. It had been one of Jasper's favorite Superman glasses.

"Damn it!"

I started toward the broom and dustpan.

"I can clean it, just sit down."

Edward was across the kitchen before I could get to the pantry.

"I can clean up a mess in my own house."

"I don't want you to get cut."

"Just give me the broom. It's mostly big pieces."

I put my hand on the broom and tried to take it from Edward.

"I don't mind cleaning it."

He pulled the broom towards his chest.

"Just let me clean it."

I yanked the broom back towards me. I could feel my irritation turning into anger. I was famous for my temper. Edward knew that.

"Bella, I. Don't. Mind."

He went so far as to try and pry my fingers off of the broom handle and my anger exploded.

"Fuck, Edward! I'm not a fucking invalid! You don't have to do everything for me! I'm a grown woman!" I screamed, probably scaring the damn kitten again because I heard something crash in the living room.

"I'm just trying to help! Jasper would have wanted-"

"Jasper would have wanted you to move on and live your own fucking life. Your own life," I repeated for emphasis. "You hover over me constantly, you don't let me do anything for myself, and you never give me any fucking peace! Sometimes I think you forget that this baby isn't yours. But it's not, okay? It's not! And you are no fucking Jasper, so stop trying to be him!"

Edward recoiled so fast at my words, it was as if I had reached out and smacked him. I immediately wanted to take it all back, but it was too late.

"That's not-how could you think-" Edward stumbled over his words, which was a rare sight. He took a moment to collect himself and then let go of the broom. "You're right," he nodded his head, apparently agreeing with me.

"No, I didn't mean…that. I just-err-I'm sorry," I gave him a wide and toothy fake grin, trying to show him that I was just being a moron, saying things out of anger and annoyance.

"No, uh, you're right. You are a grown woman. I was hoping that it would be seen as a nice gesture, me helping my best friend's girl after his death. Seeing as how you're pregnant with his kid and have no family around here and I thought our friendship extended beyond Jasper's death. I'll leave you be."

His eyes were watery. The whole time I had known Edward, I had only seen him cry three times.

The first was when his niece, Angela, was born premature and they didn't think she'd make it. The second happened at Angela's first birthday because his brother in law started crying at the sight of his daughter being alive and blowing out her candles. Seeing a giant like Emmett breaking down sobbing from pure joy was like a scene from one of those Hallmark movies. Everyone else started crying, even Jasper.

The third time was at Jasper's funeral. I couldn't comfort him then and I couldn't comfort him now.

"No! Hey, wait!"

Edward turned on his heel and marched out the door. He didn't even slam it, though I think the soft click of the door was more of a stab to the chest than a slam would have been. I sighed and rubbed my temples.

"God, I'm such a bitch," I mumbled to myself as I proceeded to sweep up all of the broken glass.

I actually did manage to cut myself, making Edward's worry valid. After bandaging my finger, I decided I'd had enough for the day. I changed into Jasper's t-shirt and crawled into bed.

"I've sure made a mess of things, haven't l, little one?" I rubbed my abdomen.

The doctor said I wasn't far enough along to feel the baby moving or kicking, but I could have sworn I felt something. Probably just gas. The kitten waddled her way onto the pillow, cocked her head, and stared at me. Maybe it was just pregnancy hallucinations, but that stare looked remarkably judgmental.

"You still like me, right?" She mewed and waddled away. "I'm the one that feeds you, remember!" I called to the kitten.

I fluffed Jasper's pillow and fell into a restless sleep.

surprise, quick update. though, i think future updates will be around once a week. give or take. thanks to everyone that read the first chap. thanks to MissSnazzy for beta.

question - if you have been pregnant, what was your craving/comfort food? i craved subway and chinese food with both mine.