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CHAPTER 3

BPOV

I woke up to the soft snap of the light switch as the light was turned on. Blinking repeatedly, I rubbed my eyes and stretched my stiff legs. I picked my head up and turned it from side to side.

Big mistake.

I winced and bit down on my lip to keep from crying out. My neck felt as if a pole had been shoved down both sides, keeping me from turning or tilting my head at any angle, and whenever I did, that pole heated up and burned straight through my muscles, causing my eyes to water and my lips to tremble.

I was distracted from this pain however when I heard the heavy footsteps on the tile floor. My heart thumped. Rose wasn't that fat. She had gained some weight, but she only sounded like that when she was drunk and wearing thick heels.

Clothing was dropped and I waited in horror as I saw a fist of thick fingers close around the curtain of the shower and yanked it back. My eyes widened.

The only sound in the bathroom for about three seconds was the resounding cling of the metal rings on the curtain rod. Then, "Shit!"

I screamed, not from fright but sheer disgust at the moment, and strained to cover my eyes. I cowered back against the curved marble of the tub, still screaming and still covering my eyes. "Oh, jeez."

To say that it was embarrassing to have one of your best friends' boyfriend's man parts proudly displayed in front of you would be an understatement. I was beyond horrified. Beyond shocked. Beyond embarrassed.

Just plain grossed out.

My cheeks burned hotly as I stumbled out of the tub, nearly tripping on the rim as I kept my eyes covered and tried to make it out of the bathroom as quickly as possible. Ignoring the pain shooting through my neck, I fumbled for the door, feeling around the wall as I tried to make my way from the tub to the guest room.

"The door's open, Bella," Emmett said. I could hear laughter in his voice.

"Shut up," I said, and peeked through my fingers. Seeing the open doorway, I darted from the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. The cool air whooshed around me as I collapsed on the bed, ignoring the intoxicatingly strangling scent and the ever present burning in my neck. I squeezed my eyes shut and willed my brain to erase the image of naked Emmett from my mind.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in a more conventional position, wrapped in blankets, and was welcomed to the sight of sunlight shining through the window, casting the room in a golden glow. I sat up, rubbing my neck with one hand and sliding out of the bed.

I slipped into my clothes as quickly as I could with the crick in my neck. Opening the door, I peeked left and right before stepping into the hallway. I could make my way through this house with my eyes closed--though that wouldn't be the best decision because of my clumsiness--and knew exactly how to make it to the downstairs and still avoid Emmett's room.

This meant, however, going into Edward's old room.

Gathering my courage, I turned to face the spiral staircase. The metal was cold on the railing, and if desolateness could have a feel, this was it. The silver metal was cool to the touch, and felt hollow, somehow forlorn. But this made no sense to me. Edward's furniture had taken place of the old library, which was where Carlisle spent most of his time. He read everything he could get his hands on. If his books had moved upstairs, wouldn't he spend time up there. And if he did, why did this area feel so...empty?

I had placed my foot on the stair and was in the process of shifting my weight forward when a door opened behind me.

"Oh good, Bella, you're up."

I turned to see Rosalie emerge from Emmett's room, looking like blonde perfection with the exception to her slightly mussed hair. Her skin-tight jeans flowed smoothly into her sky high black heels, and her black silky shirt looked almost as complicated on as it probably did off.

I stepped back off the stairs and turned fully to face her. Her eyebrow shot up. "We can't meet Alice with you looking like that."

"We're meeting Alice?"

She nodded. "Apparently, there's this new French bistro that was built and she wanted to check it out. It's rumored that the food is 'divine'." Rose was good at imitating Alice, and if it weren't for my obvious feelings of discomfort, I would have laughed. She sighed. "Come on, I think I have something small enough to fit you."

I trudged slowly behind her, stopping in front of the door.

"Rose, I'm going to stay out here, just in case Emmett isn't... decent."

She looked at my awkwardly, then shrugged her shoulders and disappeared into the bedroom, only to reappear a few seconds later. She handed me a pair of skillfully and deliberately pair of torn jeans and a red t-shirt. Not in the mood to complain about the form-fitting objects she handed me, I slipped into the guest room and changed quickly.

I walked back into the hallway to meet a glare.

"Why are you walking funny like that?"

Shit. She noticed.

"Like what?"

"You're neck is straight, and you're not slouching, but you're head is turned to one side. And your shoulder's raised. Why are you walking funny like that?"

"Well..."

The door opened again and Emmett emerged, thankfully in boxers and a t-shirt. "She had an interesting night in the bathtub."

I hated him in that moment.

"Come again?"

Emmett grinned at me. "She slept in the bathtub."

Rose turned to me and what looked like a glare formed on her face. But as my eyes flooded with tears, her face wiped clean and was replaced with pity and concern.

"Oh, Bella..."

"It's fine," I murmured, walking towards the stairs. "I would like to get going. I have some other things I would like to do today."

She nodded and turned to kiss Emmett. I slowly made my way down the stairs, stepping as lightly as I could, until I made it to the kitchen. Esme was in the process of mixing sugar into her tea and Carlisle was bent over the newspaper, a pencil in his hand, his brow furrowed and a frown on his lips.

"Good morning," Esme said to me, turning from the stove. "Would you like some tea?"

"I need a five letter word for 'plastic shoelace thingie.' Who the hell comes up with these things?" Carlisle looked more frustrated than I had ever seen him.

I shook my head at Esme. "No thanks. Rose and I are going to meet Alice at a bistro in a couple of minutes."

"I have an A and an E."

"Chez Fleurs?" Esme asked.

I shrugged, grimacing. "I guess. I don't know that much about it."

"Now I have A, G and an E."

Esme shook her head. "It's a shame they had to build it there..."

"Ok, A, G, E and T."

I looked at her in confusion. "Built it where?"

Carlisle and Esme exchanged a glance, one that didn't go unnoticed by me. Unfortunately, I couldn't get the answer to my next question as Rose came strutting into the kitchen, Emmett attached to her hip. Her reached over, grabbed a croissant from a bowl, and stuffed the whole thing into his mouth.

"Bella, we should get going," she said. "Alice wanted us to be there at ten."

I nodded. "Well, thank you for your hospitality Carlisle and Esme. It's very kind of you--"

"Don't go thanking us yet, dear," she said, waving me off with a hand. "We're not kicking you out yet."

I glanced at Rose in confusion. She grinned sheepishly.

"Rose?"

Emmett coughed. "Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to get going. That bimbo Amber called in sick today, so I'm going to have to take care of her clients too..."

"Emmett," Carlisle said, looking up from his paper. "It's Sunday."

Rosalie grabbed my hand. "We really are going to be late, and you know how Alice gets. Esme, we'll be back around three or so."

"Aglet! I got it. Christ, what kind of a word is 'aglet?'"

I was no good at mental math, but five hours seemed like a bit much to be spending out at brunch. However, I didn't press the issue as we said our quick goodbyes, exchanged hugs all around and exited the house to the car. We were both silent as we settled into the seats, and it wasn't until Rose reached over to start the car that I saw the diamond sparkling from her finger.

"Rose..." My heart went numb.

She turned to me. "Bella, I'm sorry I haven't told you. But you've seemed to stressed out with everything that I didn't want to bug you. I mean, you're worried about Alice's wedding, you've got exams coming up, and now you have to deal with Edward coming home and..."

"I'm trying not to think about that," I said in a broken whisper, staring out the window.

In silence, she started the car and backed out of the driveway. She didn't say anything until she pulled up to a red light.

"Why did you sleep in the bathtub?"

"Because I didn't want to sleep in Edward's bed," I answered truthfully.

She exhaled. "I didn't think we would be staying there. I honestly thought we would be going back to my apartment. But as you know Emmett moved in a while ago, and while you were asleep I got a call that there had been a robbery. And Emmett, being the overprotective bastard that he is, kicked me out of my own apartment, saying it was unsafe and I wasn't to step foot in there unaccompanied until he deemed it safe again. I think he just wanted me to move in with him, but somehow this seemed like the opportune moment. I wanted to tell you, about the engagement I mean, I really did. And it's only temporary. He's been on the computer since he called me looking for apartments."

I glanced over at her to see her hands clenched tightly around the steering wheel. Her face was white and her lips trembled as she spoke. "I know that he wasn't the computer that much. You guys were romping around all night." Sighing, I laid a hand over hers. "Rose, it's fine. Really. I'm happy that you guys are engaged and living together. That's nice." I drew my lips into a fake smile. "Really."

She sighed in relief, thankfully not calling my bluff, and turned around the corner. I really was happy for her... truthfully. But I was having a hard time showing it due to the fact that I had all of a sudden fallen into a depressed funk that was leaving me emotionally numb. It didn't help that she hadn't told me about being engaged,--or her apartment being robbed for that matter-- but as she continued to drive, I spotted the minor changes that had been made around Forks since I had left.

The Sheriff's office had been revamped, including potted plants, a new paint job and a new logo.

The stoplights had been replaced.

Streetlights decorated the sides of the road.

Flower bushes were everywhere, including around storefronts and along the side of the road.

I was a little confused when we pulled into the parking lot of the old bookstore that I had spend most of my time in my freshman year--before I met Edward. I turned to Rose. "I thought we were going to a bistro?"

"We are."

I looked back in confusion and sucked in a breath.

Where the old wooden "Walden's Books" sign had been there was a pink and white sign in cursive script. "Chez Fleurs." The porch had been converted into a lounge, and the old Used Books racks were replaced with tables and chairs. Awnings covered the windows, and the old, comforting hue of the building had been painted over in pink and green.

"Bella..."

"It's fine," I snapped, unlocking my seat-belt with as much force as I could muster. I slammed the door behind me and petulantly stormed up the stairs. Alice had come from the front door, and seeing the redness in my face smiled sympathetically.

It was irrational, of course, to think that Forks would remain unchanged when I came back after ten years. But Walden's? Really? It had been my safe haven, the place I went when I wanted silence or a place to think. When Charlie had gotten sick, I spend almost four hours among the shelves, searching for books about leukemia. When Charlie had sent me back to Florida to visit my mom for Christmas, I had spend about three days searching for plane-reading material.

To say the least, Walden's book had been my second home.

"I'm sorry, Bella," Alice whispered.

I shook my head, wiping my eyes. "For what? Forks shouldn't have stayed the same for seven years. It looks good."

Rose joined us on the steps, shifting uncomfortably. I wiped at my eyes again. "What are we standing here for?"

Alice and Rose exchanged a glance.

"Come on. We have stuff to do."

I swung the door open and stomped into the restaurant.

*

Four hours, two espressos, seven cucumber sandwiches and twenty peppermints later, I was in the car again, this time driving Alice's Porsche while she rode back to the Cullens' house to go over last minute, unsettled things with Esme.

Apparently, I was no help in wedding details when I was about as sociable as a rock.

I was headed to Charlie's, and at the moment didn't care that the grandeur of Alice's car didn't blend in with the scenery. I was intent on getting to his house to make sure that he was okay, and that he hadn't changed too.

I wouldn't be able to handle much more.

I pulled into the driveway, sighing as I saw that he hadn't changed a thing on the outside. The hedges were still there--a little unkempt and overgrown. The house was the same rustic ruddy brown. His cruiser was parked in the driveway, and I smirked when I saw my truck parked off to the side near the garage. Two rocking chairs sat perched on the porch, and the curtains were still pulled open, allowing any sunlight that was available to seep through the windows.

I clamored up the steps, and awkwardly knocked on the door. I had always been able to let myself in before.

The front door opened slowly, and Sue Clearwater stepped out onto the porch.

"Bella!" she exclaimed. "What a nice surprise!"

"Hi," I muttered. "Is my dad here?"

"Yes, yes!" she said ushering me through the front door. "Please! He's been talking about you all the time. He was wondering when you would come back to see him."

I nodded, clearing my throat as I crossed through the threshold and into the foyer. A few things had been moved around, and a fairly live potted ficus sat on an end table next to a recent looking picture of me.

I moved silently through the house, taking in everything around me. Nothing had changed. The walls were the same colors, the pictures hanging on the walls were all the same, even the clock I had broken when tripping down the stairs hung on the wall, un-ticking, still broken.

I walked into the living room.

"Where's Char--Dad?" I asked. He wasn't perched in front of the TV like I had expected him to be. The TV was off, looking deserted, and a slight film of dust covered the screen. The living room was unusually clean--when I had lived there, I had tried my best to pick up after him, but there was always a beer bottle on the table, a spare sock on the floor, or a pizza crust somehow wedged in the cushions of the couch.

"He's upstairs," Sue said. Her eyes had taken on a slightly sad look.

My heart seemed like the only thing willing to move.

I slowly trudged up the stairs, dreading every moment. With every step I took, it brought me closer and closer to the change that I most didn't want to see. The one change that I was most definitely not prepared for. My breathing grew shallower, and Sue seemed to lose her chipperness the closer and closer I got to his bedroom.

I paused outside the door, my hand on the door. I glanced back at her, trying to pull as much courage and support I could from her gaze. She smiled slightly, and nodded me toward the door.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open.

He was laying in the bed, as frail as I had ever seen him before. His bones, which were visible through his skin, seemed weak and delicate. His skin had taken on a yellow, papery tone, and I was afraid that if I touched him he would turn to dust. His eyes were closed, straining out against his skull, and his hair had already thinned out to a sand-like layer across the top of his head. His once ruddy cheeks were hollow, sunken into his head, and his burly, thick muscles were reduced to almost nothing.

I was crying by the time I made it to his bed. He heard my approach and opened his eyes. He smiled at me, making me cry even harder. Because this body, this wasn't him. But that smile was, making this all that much more real. That skeleton... that ghost... that was my dad.

"Hi, Daddy."

He closed his eyes. "You... haven't... called me... 'daddy'... since you were... five."

I knelt down beside his bed, taking his hand. Tears were flowing freely, and I choked when he winced at my grasp.

"I'm sorry," I wailed. "I'm sorry I haven't been here. I'm sorry I--"

He chuckled at me. "You... haven't... fussed this much... over me... since... you were making me... eat that nasty... lasagna you... used to make..."

"You used to like it!" I protested.

He gave me a look that I had grown to know very well. "I... said that I... liked it... so you wouldn't... stop cooking for me."

"Oh, Dad."

"I've...missed you... Jingle Bells..."

I knelt my head next to our folded hands, allowing my tears to drip onto the sheets. "Dad, tell me what I can do. What can I do to make this better?"

"You... can't... Bells," he whispered. "There's... nothing you... can do. The chemo's... too... expensive. You need... to spend... that money... for... school... and..."

I shook my head. "No. It's not important. You're my dad. We can figure something out. I... I can get another jpb. I can go back to school later. You... you can't... you... it's not... you... you can't... Dad..."

"Bells..."

"I don't want you to die!" I shouted out, causing all of us to cringe. I hadn't meant to say the word. It had just slipped out, and brought more pain than the sight of him could have. Because I had muttered the word 'die,' I had brought up that it was a possibility. I had brought it into the equation. And that wasn't right.

"Honey... I'm not... going to... die," he whispered. "Have you honestly... lived with me for... damn near... fifteen years... and... not realized... that I'm too... stubborn... to let... something as dumb as... illness... get to me?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing all of it to go away. "Daddy? What can I do? Please. Just tell me something. What can I do."

He watched me for a moment, and then, softly, said, "Can you... move... back in... again."

I nodded. "Yes. Yes."

He lowered his voice. "Sue... can't cook. Her... food is... terrible."

Sue sniffed behind me. "You ate it all every time I made something."

He chuckled, a wheezing, horrific sound. "I... said that... so you wouldn't... stop cooking for me."

I laughed softly, and leaned over, brushing my lips against his forehead. "I'm right here, Dad," I whispered against his forehead. "I won't go anywhere."

EPOV

I had always hated plane food. The crackers were always stale, they never gave you enough Coke when you asked for it, and the cheese was always too runny.

But I couldn't complain as the wheels touched the tarmac at SeaTac. I was back in Washington for the first time in ten years.

My heart was pounding. My hands were sweaty for the first time since my first surgery a year ago. My eyes wouldn't focus, and I was fidgeting. My knees jiggled, my fingers tapped on the seat trays, and I kept turning my head from side to side, looking out the windows.

I wasn't nervous about coming back to Forks to see my family. I had missed them, but I wasn't troubled over that. I wasn't nervous about seeing old people I had not seen in so long, I wasn't nervous about meeting up with old friends.

I was nervous about seeing Bella.

I had come home to Bella.

I unbuckled my seatbelt, grabbed my briefcase and walked off the plane.