Chapter Four! Woo! So I saw Moana yesterday, what an absolutely amazing film! A million thumbs up Disney! I suggest you go see it! Anyway, don't forget to review!

Chapter Four

He rocked me for so long, humming a soothing lullaby. I lost track of time. He never asked me to give him the ring back. Maybe I should give it back to him…

I slipped it off my finger, "D-do you want your r-ring back?" I asked in a small, shaky voice.

His eyebrows shot up, "What do you mean?" He asked quietly.

I looked down, "I-I'm to fucked up. You deserve someone b-better." My voice was still small.

He placed his finger under my chin and lifted it, a gentle smile on his face, "That ring is yours and will always remain on your finger. I don't want anyone else except you. All I want, is to help you stop hurting and to help you get better." He said.

I bit the inside of my cheek, "I-I don't know how to get better." I said.

"I'll help you," he said, "I just want to know… I just want you to tell me… Please, if you can…" he begged.

"H-he r-r-r…" I couldn't spit it out. I didn't want him to know my shame. It was my fault.

He stroked my cheek, "You can tell me anything sweetheart, I love you so much. Nothing you could ever tell me would change my love for you." He said sweetly.

I looked down at his shirt, not wanting to face his eyes any longer.

"You won't believe me… she didn't." I said, adding the last part quietly.

"Who didn't believe you honey? I will believe you, do you want to know why?" He asked, lifting my face up again. I didn't say anything, I just let him continue.

"You're honest," he said with a kiss, "You're caring," another kiss, "You're the sweetest person on the planet," another kiss, "And, you have a huge tell when you fib, it's impossible for you to lie to me." he kissed me again, his easy-going grin lighting up his face.

I couldn't answer him. It was too hard. I knew he wouldn't want me after I told him how damaged I was. It was my fault. I knew it was my fault.

"Please tell me sweetheart. I pinky promise, that no matter what it is, I will still love you. No matter how gruesome, or bloody it is." He said, holding his long pinky out.

I wrapped my tiny pinky around his. Pinky promises were our thing. Whenever we pinky promised, it was serious and couldn't be broken. I knew this.

I took a very deep, shaky inhale, "What if I can't be helped?" I asked.

He stroked my hair, "Sweetie, I'm going to do everything within my power to help you. I don't care what it takes or what I have to do. I'm going to be right beside you, holding your hand, and helping you through this." He said confidently.

I bit my lower lip, "H-he r-rap-ed me…" I said in a small voice, tears threatening to spill over.

Edward stroked my lip, "Your dad?" He asked.

I nodded, "It was my fault…" I said.

"How was it your fault baby?" He asked.

I swallowed hard, "My mommy told me that it was my fault. That I was a liar. I was a bad girl and I seduced him. It's my fault he doesn't love her anymore…" Tears started to fall down my cheeks.

"Shh, shh, it's okay sweetheart." Edward said, hugging me tightly.

"I'll be a good girl." I cried into his chest.

"You are a good girl honey," he said, rubbing my back.

"I'm sorry…" I sobbed.

"Why are you sorry honey? You haven't done anything wrong." He said.

"I'm not a good girl, I'm so sorry daddy…. I promise I can be a good girl." I was clutching his shirtfront tightly, sobbing pitifully into his chest.

"Shhhh baby girl. You are a good girl; d-daddy doesn't think you're a bad girl." He said.

I couldn't talk anymore. I just cried into his shirt while he hugged and stroked my back. He shushed me every now and again when my crying would make it hard for me to breath.

After I quieted down, he started talking.

"Bella, I want to talk to you about something and I want you to be open to it and listen okay?" He said.

I could do that, I mean, he's been listening to me blubber about my problems. I could hear him out. I nodded.

"Bella, I want you to go to a therapist. And, it can be anyone you want it to be. But, I want you to talk about this stuff." He said.

I sighed, "I a-agree to look into it." I said.

He nodded, "And another thing I want to talk about… earlier, when you were crying and apologizing for being a bad girl… you called me daddy." He said.

I blushed furiously, "I—uh—I'm s-sorry." I said, truly embarrassed.

He shook his head, "Don't be. But, I want to know, did that make you feel better?" He asked.

"W-what?"

"Did you feel better when you called me daddy?" He repeated.

"I-I don't know."

"Bella, don't be mad okay? But I talked to my mom last night…" He trailed off.

I gasped, "Edward! Now your mother is going to think I'm crazy!" I screamed.

"No, she doesn't. She actually had some ideas about what's going on. I needed to talk to someone Bella, I was scared." He said.

"Why were you scared?" My heart beat a little faster, why would Edward be scared.

"Because I saw you hurt yourself yesterday and it scared me. I'm not sure what you're going to do to yourself. I don't want to lose you." He said, tears welling up in his eyes.

I frowned, "Your family is going to think I'm crazy." I said.

He shook his head, "Bella, my family loves you so much. If I hadn't asked you to marry me, then they would have adopted you. All they want is for you to be safe and to be happy. They don't want you to be hurting honey. And my mom won't say a word to anyone." He said.

"I know. I love your family. They're the only family I've ever had. I don't want them to not like me." I whispered.

"They love you. You have nothing to worry about there," he said, "They just want what's better for you, as do I." He stroked my cheek, "Bella, did it make you feel better when you called me daddy?"

I blushed again, "I won't do it again." I said.

"That's not what I asked. I noticed that you like it when I kind of, do things that a daddy would do. Like cuddle you, and rock you, and tell you that everything is going to be okay. If that makes you feel better, then I want to keep doing it. I want to keep doing things that will make you feel better." He said.

I shook my head, "Edward, it's weird. And you're my fiancé, not my father. I'm not going to cross that boundary."

He raised an eyebrow, "Why don't we talk to someone before we make any decisions?" He suggested.

I nodded.