I'm trying to spit these out, so again, sorry for the errors that I'm sure are there. Hopefully you few readers are still enjoying the story. Only a couple chapters to go! Review (:


It was good what we did yesterday,
And I'd do it once again
That fact that you are married,
Only proves you're my best friend
But it's truly, truly a sin.

- Lou Reed, Pale Blue Eyes

Emmett and I are having dinner together.

Emmett is paying money for us to eat together, outside of the apartment.

He was in a good mood this morning when he asked me. "It'll be fun," he said thoughtfully.

My stomach flutters with a faint trace of excitement as I yank a dress over my head, tying the sash carefully and smoothing my hair with my palms. I haven't been on a date with Emmett since before I moved in.

Emmett's on the couch when I walk out of the bedroom, and he looks at me how I've wanted him to look at me for months. His eyes look like saucers, and I feel a blush creep over my cheeks.

"Wow," he says, his voice deep and husky. "You look...you look great."

"Thanks," I reply, my blush deepening. "I haven't worn this dress in years."

Emmett bites his lip. I can almost see his eyes darkening. He lifts himself slowly from where he was sitting, crossing the room and looking at me like I'm something to eat. He takes my hips in his hands, pulling my bottom lip between his as his groans into my mouth.

I feel my back hit the wall within seconds as his hot fingers skim my thighs, ghosting beneath the navy chiffon on my skirt. His thumb is pressing right where I want it, and I'm gasping, trying desperately to cling to reality.

"Emmett," I pant as his tongue explores the length of my neck. "Emmett, what about dinner?"

"Dinner can wait," he growls into my skin. He accents his statement by grinding himself into me. My back slides against the wall as he lifts me, using one hand to bring my leg around his waist.

"But I'm hungry," I insist, laughing. My giggle is partly genuine and partly nervous at how he'll respond. But my stomach is churning, and I haven't eaten since breakfast. It's not like we can't fool around after we've both had something to eat.

Emmett looks into my eyes suddenly, licking his lips. He pauses, studying me. I can tell that he doesn't like what he finds in my gaze. "Are you serious right now?" he asks. His words make me feel like a child.

"Yes," I answer, but it sounds more like a question.

His hands are off of me before I can say anything, and he's pulling at his hair. "Figures," he snaps. Then he waves his hand towards the door, his expression impatient and deeply irritated. "Go get in the fucking car, if you want to go so badly."

Our meal together lasts for thirty minutes, and Emmett barely talks because he's mad at me.

He finally tells me I nag him too much, I want too much from him, and that he can think of a hundred other things he'd rather be doing. One of those things, of course, is fucking.

He doesn't specify who.

"Where are you going?" I ask as Emmett throws clothes into a bag. He's in one of his moods, anger from earlier still consuming him.

"To stay with Jasper for the night," he answers simply.

"Oh."

He glances up at me and shakes his head, laughing bitterly as he zips the duffel closed and throws it over his shoulder.

"When are you coming back?" Part of me is afraid that he's leaving for good. Which is, of course, ridiculous, considering this is his apartment, but I've learned to expect everything and anything.

Emmett shrugs. "Tomorrow sometime. I just need to get away for a little while."

I want to tell him that that's how I feel everyday, but I bite my tongue like I always do. Because part of me still blames myself, for yesterday with Edward and for tonight before dinner. I'm careful not to think about how neither of those things were really anything to feel bad about.
He leans forward to press his lips briefly to my forehead.
"I'll call you," he says. I hear the door click shut behind him.

I open the door quietly after he shuts it and watch as Emmett walks down the winding staircase to the ground floor, hoping he won't look up and see me.
He's never done something like this before. It makes me nervous.
I stand there for a long time. I convince myself that maybe, if I keep watching for him, he'll come right back in.

Just kidding, he'd say, and he'd make love to me and not fall asleep right afterward.

I feel like it's my birthday all over again.

"Oh, you again," I hear a voice say, and I jerk my head up in surprise. The voice is above me, and I see Edward Cullen leaning over the rail outside of Peter's door, a cigarette between his fingers.

"Me again," I agree, too sullen to feign any enthusiasm. "And you can't smoke inside."

He frowns a little at my expression, and then grins. "Don't give me that. If you all can smoke illegal substances in the apartments, then I can smoke a legal one in the stairway."

I shrug. "Whatever."

"What's wrong with you?" he asks. He's not annoyed, just curious.

"Not really in the mood to talk about it," I snap, turning my back to him to go inside.

The sound of his feet on the stairs makes me turn around again, and he's running down to me. "Wait, wait, wait," he says. "Don't run away. I didn't mean to make you mad or anything."

I take a deep breath, forcing a smile onto my face because I know I'm not being fair. It's not Edward's fault that Emmett decided to pack up and spend the night at a university. A university that I used to attend when I was still going places.

"I guess you can come in and keep me company, unless you're too busy," I suggest, ignoring the pang of nervousness I feel in the pit of my stomach.

Edward drops his cigarette to the cement floor, rubbing it out with the toe of his shoe. "Nah, I'm not busy. I just came over to give Peter some cash for fixing my car. I was on my way out anyhow."

"Peter fixed your car?"

"Yeah," Edward answers. "The kid is literally a genius when it comes to automobiles. He really ought to be a mechanic, but he's a little too lazy."

My heart immediately starts pounding in my chest.

I gotta go, babe. I promised Peter I'd drive him to pick up his car from the shop.

Pete gave me some good shit last night for helping him fix his car.

Had Emmett been lying to me? If Peter was such a mechanic, then where had Emmett been?

"What's wrong? Why are you making that face?" Edward asks, breaking me from my thoughts.

I shake my head, forcing another smile as I let the two of us into the apartment.

Edward looks around, as if he's examining the place. I watch him as he runs his fingers along the picture frames scattered along the walls. Most of them still have the display pictures in them; some are even empty, but he still studies them. He even stops to read some of the titles I've hidden away on Emmett's tiny bookshelf.

"Do you approve?" I joke, raising an eyebrow.

Edward chuckles and walks to where I am, sitting in the chair next to mine. "I've never been here before, that's all."

"We just met yesterday."

Edward nods once, slowly. "Feels like forever ago. Where's your boyfriend?"

I grimace, and he notices. So I tell the truth. "He left me."

Edward's eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Just for the night," I add quickly. "We had a...disagreement. He went to stay with Jasper tonight."

"Oh. I'm sorry," Edward says.

"It's okay," I whisper. As soon as I say the words, I actually feel like they're true. I'm going to be okay without Emmett tonight.

Edward checks his wristwatch, obviously eager to change the subject somehow. "Well, it's only eight. We could go somewhere, if you want to."

"I don't think that's such a good idea," I answer. My eyes fall into my lap.

Edward's laugh surprises me. "Would you relax? I'm not going to take you to a fancy dinner or march you around Berkeley so Emmett can see."

"Well then where?" I ask, confused. "Peter's? Gross."

"No, not Peter's," Edward laughs. "It's a surprise."

We take a cab, and Edward is sitting so far away from me that I feel it's deliberate. I would almost have to reach to touch him.

"Why can't you tell me where you're taking me?" I ask, tugging on the hem of my shorts self-consciously. I look terrible, and I have no idea if I should have dressed more nicely or not.

Edward glances at me and rolls his eyes. "It's not really a big secret. I was on my way over anyhow, and I figured you could tag along."

The cab jolts to a standstill, and Edward pays the driver as we step out onto the sidewalk. A three-story townhouse is stretching toward the pitch sky in front of us, and Edward grins at me.

"This is my sister's house," he says.

My shocked gasp seems to satisfy him somehow.

"Edward Cullen," I snap through my teeth. "In case you didn't notice, I look like absolute shit."

"I happen to think you look pretty fucking cute, so your opinions don't really matter in this case," he answers, and I can't help the way my stomach flips as he smiles at me. His teeth almost glow in the dark.

"I just met you!" I whisper as we get closer to the front door. "How is it going to look if you introduce someone that you've just met to your sister?"

"It's really not a big deal, okay? Just calm down," he said at a normal volume, rolling his eyes again. "You're getting neurotic. You needed something to do, I needed some company, so here we are. Now stop freaking out and calm down."

The front door opened before I could think of something witty to say back.

The girl that stands in the doorway is a giant.

Well, not a giant exactly, but she looks giant to me from where I stand at five foot four. She's got to be at least five ten, and she's just as beautiful as Edward is. I try not to think of Rosalie when I see the long braid of light blonde hair pulled over one of her shoulders.

"Edward," she acknowledges, smiling brightly as she pulls her brother into an embrace. Her eyes fall on me, and her smile stays perfectly intact. "And who's this?"

"This is Bella," Edward answers, and it's then that I realize that he doesn't even know my last name.

"Swan," I mutter. He raises his eyebrows and meets my eyes before he smiles and turns back to the woman at the door.

"Bella Swan," he adds.

"Welcome, Bella," the giant says, pulling me into a hug. I'm caught off guard, and I'm afraid she can hear my sudden intake of breath as she wraps her arms around me. "I'm Edward's sister, Tanya."

She motions us into the house, and I can feel my eyes widen. The ceilings stretch high and the walls are painted a deep, welcoming blue. They are absolutely littered in picture frames, some with paintings, some with photos of a tiny blonde baby or Tanya with a strikingly handsome man. The wood floor creaks under my feet as I follow Edward and Tanya toward the back of the house.

Of course, the kitchen is just as charming as the foyer is. I fiddle with the hem of my shorts again as I walk into the room.

"You look fine," Edward mutters. Then he takes my hand.

I know I shouldn't, but I intertwine my fingers with his, and I see his cheek lift in what I can only assume is a smile.

"Liam, this is Edward's friend, Bella," Tanya says to the man that I recognize from the pictures in the hall. He's sitting at a small table pushed against the wall, typing away at a computer. He looks up at me, and his blue eyes crinkle as his grins at me.

Liam's hand extends toward mine, and I release Edward's so I can take his. "It's nice to meet you, Bella," he says.

Tanya is already putting a kettle on the stove, setting cups on saucers as Liam and Edward chat about things I can't really pay attention to. She slips from the room, leaving me alone at the counter.

I'm staring into space, my mind completely swimming with thoughts and panic and a contrasting, strange sense of comfort, when Tanya calls my name from around the corner.

Edward looks over at me from where he's sitting with Liam, an apologetic look on his face. I smile back at him, trying my best to be gracious, and then I follow the sound of Tanya's voice into the tiny sitting room just off the hall.

"I know it can get boring just listening to them talk sometimes," she says, laughing a little. "Why don't you have a seat?"

I look at her face as I fall into an arm chair across from where she's sitting. She can't be a day over twenty-five, but her manners and way of speaking are so maternal that only her appearance sets her apart from middle-aged women.

"So how come we haven't seen you around here before?" she asks. I can tell she's desperate to break the ice. I'm not saying much of anything, and it's taken me until now to realize how awkward I must look.

"Well, to be honest, I've met Edward only recently," I answer. I keep the fact that 'recently' means 'yesterday' to myself. I feel heat spread across my cheeks.

Strangely, Tanya doesn't even flinch. "Well it's nice to see someone else here other than just Edward for a change," she replies. I wait for her to laugh, but she doesn't.

"So, what, Edward has no friends?" I'm joking. But she still doesn't laugh.

"It's been hard on him," she says, smiling weakly. "You know, with everything that happened with my mom last year. But he's been great at helping out a lot. My husband works more than he's home, and it's hard on my own."

I nod like I understand what she's talking about. Something happened with Edward's mother? Maybe I'll ask about it later. But, then again, maybe I won't. I don't really even know him.

"So you have a daughter?" I ask, looking at the baby's face in a picture over the tiny fireplace.
The house, from what I've seen, is completely and totally personalized. It looks exactly how I would want my house to look. But instead, I live in a dirty apartment with someone I rarely see rather than a comfortable townhouse with my hard-working husband and new baby.

Tanya smiles. Her teeth are as white as Edward's. "I do," she answers. "Her name is Kate."

I smile back, because it's polite. I know nothing about babies, so I don't know the right questions to ask. I pick at the strings coming from the bottom of my cut-offs.

"So Edward must like you," Tanya adds suddenly. She lifts one golden eyebrow. She and Edward are almost exactly alike.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because he brought you here," she answers. "He wouldn't do that unless he liked you."

Before I can reply, Tanya mutters something about the tea kettle she'd left on the stove and dashes from the room, leaving me alone to my thoughts.

Edward and Liam join us for tea in the sitting room. Liam talks about his job at a bank about twenty miles out of the Haight and Tanya babbles about Kate. I sit there and try to say the right things, even though my brain is working a million miles a minute and I can't focus on anything. They're nice people, they really are, I'm just not used to this. I'm not used to clean houses and good manners and hot tea. And what kills me is that I should be. A year ago, I would have expected an environment like this. But now, I'm a stranger.

I notice Edward watching me after a while. Tanya is telling a story about gardening or cooking or something cute Kate did, and Edward is staring intently in my direction.

"Do you want to meet Kate, Bella?" he asks suddenly, all but cutting Tanya off. I look over to her, almost asking her permission, and she nods enthusiastically.

"Sure," I agree, and I try to carefully set my cup on the side table so I won't break it. I also try to ignore the glance that Tanya and Edward exchange on our way from the room. I soon realize that Edward and I are alone, and that Tanya and Liam will not be going to see Kate with us.

Edward and I walk together into a dark room at the top of the stairs, which I assume is Kate's nursery.
"Shhh," he cautions as we walk, and he is very careful not to rattle the doorknob too loudly or to step on creaky parts of the floor.

I hear the baby's sleeping sounds when he closes the door behind us. The only light in the room is a bluish glow from the moon through the sheers and little glow-in-the-dark stars all over the ceiling. A nightlight by the tiny closet casts a muted glow across the floor. The baby sleeps in a crib beneath a mothy canopy. I feel weird being in here.

It's obvious that Edward doesn't.
He tiptoes across the floor to the crib and lifts the netting, dipping a finger in the crib and nuzzling the baby's face. She's looks so tiny, a lot smaller than her almost six months, and as soon as I see her I feel a weird falling feeling in my stomach like I'm on a roller coaster.
"You want to hold her?" Edward whispers.
"Won't it wake her?" I ask. I'm embarrassed at how scared I am to hold her. She's so fragile looking.
Edward smirks at me like I'm an idiot and shakes his head. I hold my breath as he reaches into the crib, picking the tiny little thing up into his arms. And before I can protest, Kate is tucked into my arms perfectly, her little eyes closed and her mouth open as she stays completely asleep.

"Wow," I mutter.
Edward chuckles softly. "She's really something, isn't she?"
I drag my eyes from the baby's face to his, and the expression he's wearing is so strange and completely beautiful that I'm caught off guard.
He's still staring at Kate, and I can tell just by looking at him how much he loves the little thing.
"Yeah, she is," I answer in a breath.
Kate takes a tiny sigh, smacking her lips as she turns her head and rubs her cheek against the crook of my neck. I'm surprised at myself when I lean my cheek against the top of her soft little head. I think I like her.

I hold her for a little while longer before Edward suggests that we put her back.
"If she wakes up, it will be impossible to lay her back down," he explains. I hand her over, and he puts her back in her crib so slowly and carefully that it feels like minutes go by before she's finally tucked back in.

I tiptoe over to the door, and reach my hand toward to knob carefully, trying to imitate the way Edward had opened it before. The crystal of the knob is turning in my hand when I feel his fingers.

Edward is grabbing my wrist, and all of the sudden I am hyperaware of his proximity to me. I gasp and spin around.

Edward Cullen and I are chest to chest. He's looking down on me, his hand still firm on my wrist. Before I can think or speak or do anything, his lips sieze mine.

This is so much different than the street the night before, under Emmett's watching eyes. Because, now, my mind is so open and my thoughts are all free that I don't see Emmett or his apartment or Rosalie Hale or anyone. All is see is Edward.

His eyelashes make a shadow on his face from the glow of the nightlight. All I hear is the sudden speed of his breath as he takes my tongue is his mouth, pushing me against the door. It feels sort of weird to be with him like this, in Kate's room while she sleeps, but then again it feels kind of pure and amazing. It feels kind of...beautiful? It sounds stupid in my head, but I can't think of any other word.

Edward's lips taste sweet, and his teeth are smooth against my tongue as I tangle mine with his. His hands are broad as his fingers stroke the small of my back, and I can smell him all over me as I slip my arms around his neck. The softness of his flannel shirt strokes the insides of my wrists, and I feel so good and so guilty and so innocent at the same time that it takes only a few minutes until I have to make myself pull away.

"Did I do something wrong?" he whispers. His nose is touching mine, and his eyes are still closed. I can feel his heart pounding beneath my palm.

"I think it's time to go." That's all I can think of to say.

He pulls away from me slowly and breathes for a minute before meticulously opening and closing the door again. He is careful not to look at me on the way down the stairs. I can hear his breath shake when he inhales.

Tanya isn't happy when Edward announces our departure. She's already cleared the mess from the tea, and she and Liam are together on the couch with a giant turquoise afghan spread across their laps.

"Did you like her?" Tanya asks as she hugs me again goodbye, and I can't help but smile.
"I really do," I answer. I think of Kate in her crib beneath her canopy, but the thought only reminds me of what's just happened between Edward and I in that very room.
"You can come see her anytime you'd like," Tanya insists as she hugs her brother, planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek.
I laugh, internally wondering why I'd ever come visit the baby of a woman I barely even know. Then I laugh again, because I realize that I kind of want to.

As Edward and I descend the stairs of Tanya's front porch, it occurs to me that Edward's sister has almost everything in life that I wish I have, but don't.

What I have is everything I thought I wanted.

We're quiet on our way back to the main street. I guess we're walking this time instead of taking a cab. Edward probably wants to talk to me about what happened.
His hand grabs mine. "Is this okay?" he asks.
"It's nice," I reply.
"That doesn't really answer the question."
I'm quiet as I think. "No," I decide. "It's not okay. But I like it anyway."
He squeezes my hand in reply.

I'm stuck in my brain for a few blocks as we walk together. It's hot tonight, and the street lights make everything look yellow and sunny. I feel like a highlighter.
But now, away from the stress of Tanya and acting right and saying the right things, I realize how good I feel.

I'm used to the apartment. I'm used to Peter's parties and getting high and not having eating or sleeping routines. I'm used to not knowing if Emmett will be there when I wake up or when I go to sleep. But the hour I spent under Tanya's roof brought me halfway back into my old body, when I was still Bella Swan who talked to her mother everyday and took ballet lessons and washed behind her ears. It was a feeling I would have resented in August. But it is a feeling that I'm cherishing now.

My thoughts drift to Edward's lips. That familiar nagging feeling returns, and I think of Emmett's fingers up my skirt just a few hours before my mouth was on Edward's. My brows furrow as I suddenly grow angry at myself, just as I had last night as Emmett watched me from his bedroom window.

"You're quiet," Edward comments. "I want to know what you're thinking."

"I'm doing something wrong here, Edward," I reply.

Edward actually starts to laugh. "You're holding my hand, Bella. That's hardly deserving of a scarlet letter."

"Are you kidding me?" I scoff, pulling my hand from his. "What about...what about what happened in Kate's room? That was wrong."

Edward's hands fold over his heart theatrically. "Ouch," he says.

"Give me a break," I say with a scowl. "You know I have a...boyfriend." I almost choke on the word, and he notices. I can tell he does because he starts smiling all over again.

"Yeah. I do know that. A boyfriend who fucks Rosalie Hale behind your back."

My jaw drops. "What? How did you..."

"Peter," he explains. His expression softens now. "Look, I didn't mean to say it like that. I'm just saying that nothing you did was wrong. And if you don't want me to pull anything on you again, that's fine. I don't want anything from you."

I choke out a laugh. "Yeah. That's likely."

"What is?"

"You not wanting anything from me."

He puts his hands on both of my shoulders and pulls me to a stop. "Look, Bella Swan, I just found out your last name. I hardly even know you. So if you think that I only want something from you, there's something seriously fucked up in your life."

"Why did you kiss me?" I blurt out suddenly. I want to smack a hand over my mouth.

Edward is a little taken aback. "Because I wanted to," he decides. And then he just turns back the way we were going and keeps walking. My cheeks are completely flooded with color.

The walk to Emmett's apartment is long. The hair at my temples is matted with sweat and I wipe my face quickly with the bottom of my tank top before Edward can see.
"Is he up there?" Edward asks as we both stare up at the Victorian. His eyes shift to the bedroom window, and I can almost read his thoughts.
"He left, remember?" I remind him bitterly.
Edward's feet shuffle against the pavement awkwardly as he shoves his hands in his pockets. "Do you mind if I come up for a little while?" The way he asks shows me that it really is up to me. I can say yes if I want, and I can say no if I want. I'm not really used to making too many decisions, and the power feels kind of nice. "I promise I won't seduce you," he adds with a wiggle of his brow.
And, of course, I say yes. And not just because it's him, but because I'm kind of afraid.

You'd think by now I'd be used to being alone.

It's midnight and Edward and I are together on the couch with a pint of Ben & Jerry's between us. We are a reasonable distance apart from each other, how Rosalie and I used sit together. Nothing incriminating, nothing romantic. I'm trying to ignore the heat that his proximity is shooting through my body as I focus intently on eating the ice cream and not about how easily I could just reach over and touch him.
"I never realized until recently that Cherry Garcia is a play off of the guy from the Grateful Dead," he muses, sucking on his spoon. "I think Ben and Jerry are just a couple of hippies."
"I'm surprised they don't live here, then," I say, licking the rest of the ice cream off the spoon.
"It is a little, uh, bohemian here," Edward muses. "You seem to fit pretty well. Are you like, a flower child or something? Are your parents college professors? Potters? Interpretive dancers?" He laughs to himself. He thinks he's pretty funny.
"My dad's a cop in Seattle, my mother's a lawyer, and my step-father sells life insurance."
Edward's eyes widen. "Did not see that one coming."
"I get that a lot." I dip my spoon back into the container.
"So how did you wind up here?" he digs.
I pinch my eyes closed as I try to decide whether or not to tell the truth. When I open them, he's looking at me with his dark green eyes with pure curiosity, and I decide to tell him about it. About everything.

I tell Edward Cullen about high school, and about Renee, and Phil, and Berkeley. I tell him about Emmett and the toothpaste and the cafe at the Red Vic. I tell him about moving into the apartment and dropping out of school. I tell him about Alice and Rosalie and Emmett. I tell him about the acid and the music and my mother's phone calls. And he listens.

He is quiet for a while after I finish. "Damn," is all he says.
I laugh nervously, pulling the pint into my lap as I shovel the ice cream into my mouth at an alarming rate.
"Relax," he says, putting his hand over mine as I dip back into the carton. "I'm not going to judge you for anything. Everybody's got some bullshit."
"I just seem to have more of it than others," I add.
"I think you're seriously wrong about that." His jaw stiffens, and he folds his arms across his chest.

I bite my lip, looking over the back of the couch and out the window. The sky is completely black now, the lights from the city making it look all smoky and purple over the tops of the buildings lining the street. I try to think of how to ask him what I want to ask, but every approach I can come up with is completely tactless.

"I've been wanting to ask you about something ever since we were at your sister's," I say, clearing my throat.
"If it's about me kissing you, we can just go ahead and close the subject," he replies. He's dry now. I can tell he's irritated.
"No, it's not about that," I mutter. He waits for me to continue, but I don't.
"Go on," he prompts.
I swallow and collect myself. I feel like over the couple of days I've known Edward, I say and ask all the wrong things. I feel like this is one of those moments, but I want to ask so badly that my skin is crawling.
"What happened with your mother?" As soon as the words leave my mouth I know I can't take them back.

Edward is absolutely and completely silent for a good two minutes. Two minutes doesn't sound like a long time, but in this situation, it lasted for years.
"Did Tanya say something?" he guesses.
I nod in reply.
He seems to deliberate something, silent again.
"My mother passed away last year," he offers suddenly. "She was in a head-on collision with a truck that crossed a double yellow." Then he takes the pint from my lap and starts digging at it with his spoon. His face is carefully composed to look unfazed, but the way that he's digging at the ice cream with his spoon shows exactly how uncomfortable he is. But he's sharing, because I did.
"You don't have to talk about it," I whisper, pulling my knees to my chin.
Edward chuckles softly. "No, it's okay. I thought about not talking about it just now, but I decided you might be worth telling."
I wait for him to continue. His entire demeanor changes; his grip on his spoon relaxes, fine lines in his forehead smooth out, his jaw slackens slightly. He is somewhere else in his head now, and I just have to sit back and listen to him.

"My mom, the platinum blonde," he begins, smiling to himself. "I don't really know where to start."
"What was she like?" I prompt. I find that I actually care. I want to know about her.

"There's so much to say. She was an amazing person," he says quietly. "She married my dad when she was fresh out of college and had my oldest sister Irina, then Tanya, then me. Dad skipped out when I wasn't even a year old, and I've never seen him. Mom died a week after Tanya found out she was pregnant. It was really hard on her." He takes a deep breath and pinches his eyes closed for a second. "I moved down here to help her. I was in Oregon for school and I wound up leaving. So I guess we're just a couple of college drop-outs, huh? Livin' the life." He's partly joking, but there's an edge to his voice.

"You take good care of your niece," I say. It's not a question.

"I think Kate helps us cope a little better," he says, nodding. "We lost someone, but we gained someone else, you know?"
I nod, processing everything. Edward is watching me like he's scared of what I'll say. I can't really say anything, actually, because I'm so enthralled and fascinated with him and his selflessness and his beauty and the way his face looks as he finally, finally meets my gaze that my skin is crawling.
"I was thinking about not telling you any of this," he tells me, "but I guess I trust you."
"You hardly know me."
"And I think that actually makes me trust you more. You never spill your darkest secrets to people you know well because you know what they're capable of." Edward's eyes remain on the ice cream. I think he's not going to look at me again for a while.
"I never tell Emmett anything," I offer. I'm not sure why I say it. But I do.
"I can tell," Edward says. "That's why you're telling me."

I feel my cheeks redden, and Edward touches his palm to my face.
"You make me nervous," I admit. Edward just smiles at me, and kisses my cheek.

He stays for a while, asking me questions. I find out he's a master at Scrabble, and that he broke his collarbone when he was ten playing football.

"It's time for me to go," he says finally, looking toward the door. "Unless you want me to stay."

And I want so badly for him to stay with me, all night. I know Edward Cullen wouldn't be gone by the time I woke up. Edward Cullen wouldn't forget my birthday. Edward Cullen would follow me downstairs from Peter's if I was upset.

And I'm way ahead of myself.

"It might be best if you go," I admit. "If he comes back..."
"Ah. Emmett. I think he could kill me," Edward says sheepishly, standing up from the couch.
"Probably," I agree. Just being honest.
Edward grabs a felt-tipped pen from the coffee table, and gently turns my wrist face-up as he pulls the cap off with his teeth. When he pulls away, ten digits are scrawled on the white flesh of my arm in messy, boyish chicken scratch.
"Let's stop running into each other," he says with a lazy smirk. "Let's do this on purpose next time."

I should say no. But I just smile from ear to ear, let him kiss my cheek again, and show him out of Emmett's apartment as my heart crashes in my chest.

As I lay in bed alone, drifting into dreams, I realize that my mind has been clear and open without any fences or barricades for the entire night since Emmett left.

The water from the showerhead is lukewarm.

It's between hot and cold, but it still feels nice because I actually feel clean. My shampoo, the only thing besides my toothbrush that actually belongs to me in this bathroom, is comforting as I work it into my hair. It smells like home.

Strands of hair get stuck around my fingers as I pull them through my knots. The apartment is completely quiet apart from the spray of the shower and my breathing, and it's kind of nice. It's the first time in a while that I've been by myself without feeling completely alone. I'm content.

I'm different.

I'm dripping wet when I type an email to my mother.
I am not really sure what's inspiring me to write her; it's an impulsive decision that I'm not sure if I'll regret later. It's the first time I've contacted her at all in several weeks, maybe even months. I'm too afraid to call. It's like trying to walk before I crawl. I figure an email is safe.

Mom, I start, I've been thinking about you lately. I'll give you a call next week. I have a new cell phone number. I might come home and visit soon. How is Phil? Talk to you soon. xx, Bella.

And that's it. It's shitty and impersonal, but the second I hit the send button, I can breathe easier.
I miss Renee.

The sky is gray as I sit on the edge of the bed, working a brush through my hair. Drops of water bead up on my thighs as I pull the brush through lazily. Emmett is gone again. He actually never came home. He called me around lunchtime, saying he was still with Jasper and he'd be back later tonight. He apologized for walking out on me, of course, but he obviously wasn't sorry enough to come back right away.

He said Peter and his band were playing a free show at the Red Vic, and that he was going to go support him. He asked me if I wanted to come and talk about things. But of course, the invitation was flourished with reasons why I should say no, so I declined just like he wanted. What I didn't tell him was how long it took me to get the felt pen off my skin and how Edward Cullen's phone number was stored away in my address book.

My hair is almost tangle-free when the phone rings.

"Hello?" I answer. My shirt is damp against my back where my hair touches.

"Hey, Bella, is Emmett there?" It's Peter.

I feel my brow furrow, and a few seconds go by as I try not to think very hard.

"No, he isn't," I say slowly. "Aren't you supposed to be playing tonight?"

I hear him swear on the other line. "Come up here," he orders, and then the line goes dead.

I'm a zombie as I dress quickly, being very careful not to process exactly what is happening.

He lied to you. My thoughts flicker to life, and then shut themselves behind steel doors. The freedom I had last night is gone now. My hair is still dripping wet when I knock on Peter's door.

He answers after two knocks, like he's been at the door waiting for me. His eyes are red and drooping. Peter is high, and he forgot to cover for Emmett. His hands shake at his sides.

"Where is he?" I order, my bottom lip trembling. I've been to this point far too many times, and it's exhausting.

He opens his mouth, trying to decide what to say to me. "I'm sorry," is all that he says.

And then it's like a bomb. I know every single word that is unsaid between us in my mind, and I see Rosalie's bra under Emmett's pillow and her smile as she taunted me over it, Emmett's face and his words and the way he touched me while he was deceiving me. I see myself sitting alone is his apartment, calling my mom and then hanging up four times in a row before I finally fell asleep. And then, when it's too late, I realize I am crying.

And then I realize that I'm just as guilty.

I didn't sleep with Edward Cullen. But I let him kiss me, and I let him into Emmett's house when I knew I shouldn't have. I'm not innocent here.

I'm staring at Peter's face as he stands in a narrow opening of his apartment door, staring back at me. He watches me as my chest heaves, hot tears spilling down my cheeks as I gasp for air. He swears again.

"Shit, Bell, I'm sorry," he says, stepping out into the hall and wrapping his arms hesitantly around me. He's trying to comfort me, but the feel of his body against mine is so foreign and strange that it just makes me feel worse. I know he senses that when he steps away from me and watches me again.

"I should have known he'd do it again," I say quietly, avoiding Peter's eyes. I know it's her. No one even had to tell me. I know it's her again, and I hate them both.

"It's not your fault," he replies after a long pause, and then he opens his door wider, and waves his arm inside. "Come in. The neighbors might get nervous."

I wipe my face with my wrist as Peter puts a hand on the small of my back, helping me through the door. When I finally open my eyes, I wish I hadn't. Because, on Peter's couch, sits Edward. Fucking. Cullen.

"Hey man, do you mind getting out for a little while?" Peter asks him sheepishly. "We, uh, we have some issues."

My mouth is hanging open as I stare, tears falling over my lips. I can taste the salt as Edward gapes back at me. He looks as if I caught him doing something wrong.

He's up from the couch as walking towards the door before I grab his wrist.

"He can stay," I say to Peter, sniffling loudly and rubbing my hands through my hair.

Peter looks shocked. I then remember that he has no idea that Edward and I even know each other, and the way he narrows his eyes at me makes me sick.
"How do you know each other?" he asks, motioning between the two of us. Edward is frozen like a deer in headlights.
"Oh cut the shit, Peter," I say. "Edward and I just...we know each other, okay? Don't look at me like I have something to explain. You're the one who's been consistently covering for a guy who's been cheating on his girlfriend."
"Have not!" Peter yells. He sounds like a little kid. "I told you last time!"
"That was Alice," I correct. The tears are slowing, but my voice is still hoarse.
"But I'm the one that told her to tell," Peter admits, scratching his ear. "It's not fair, I know. But Emmett and me...it's like...a bro thing."
Edward is inching closer and closer to the door.
I jab my finger in Peter's face. "A 'bro thing', huh? It's called lying. You fix everyone's car, Peter. You're a fucking mechanic. And Emmett 'takes you to the shop' to pick up cars you can fix yourself? It's all a lie, isn't it?"

Peter is quiet, and he knows he's busted.

"Where is he?" I repeat. Peter's cracking under pressure, and I'm using it to my advantage.
"Down the street," Peter mutters. "At that Asian fusion place on Cole Street."
"Is she there?" He knows who I'm talking about.
Peter nods. He looks like he is about to cry.

I'm down the stairs and in the street before Peter and Edward decide to come after me.