A/N: We thank all of you for the incredible enthusiasm and widely varied opinions (from the angry to the hilarious) on our story! We're having so much fun writing this, and there are some great times ahead. This chapter will give you a little taste of what's to come.

Huge thanks to our pre-readers, Caz, Keye and Sandy, for their invaluable input and friendship and to Jess (jkane180) for her beta skilz. Mwah!

Chapter 6

~The Devil Wears Red Shoes~

~*Bella*~

The guests are all gone now, and Esme knocks on the door to let us know Reverend Weber needs to lock up the church. Our time is up.

Edward and I have been sitting in this classroom clinging to each other for quite a while, not speaking. It's as if we're both fascinated with the effect our touches have on one another. Besides, to speak of what's gone before and what we expect for the future will make certain unpleasant events more real. Despite the fact that I'm ecstatic that Edward has feelings for me, this was a tragic moment in his life. To wake up with the expectation of marrying someone only to find out they deceived you, keeping you from the one you truly wanted, is devastating. My heart bleeds for Edward and all the other unsuspecting members of his family and Tanya's. None of them deserved this, and I know an explanation as to why I stood up in the middle of the wedding rather than showing up sooner is in order. I'm not entirely sure when all is said and done that Edward will find my reason acceptable—at this point, I'm not even sure my motives were rational.

After Esme delivers her message and walks away, I look over at Edward, suddenly feeling awkward and insecure. My mouth opens, but no words come.

Edward's hand tightens in mine. "Bella," he says softly, and I force my eyes to his, hoping he doesn't see the extent of my fear. Now that I've finally done this, the adrenaline has dropped me on my ass. His eyes are kind and full of love. Lifting his other hand, his fingers ghost over my cheek, leaving a trail of tingling in their wake. "Bella, we're going to be okay; I promise. It's time to go now." He stands up, tugging me with him.

"What happens now? Will you... call me?"

"Call you?" Edward sounds confused.

"Y-yes. I guess I'll be staying with Charlie for now. God, he doesn't even know I'm in town yet!" I slap my forehead and hope I get the chance to explain myself to my father before the rumor mill gets going. "You said it was time for you to go, so..."

"No," Edward shakes his head. "Time for us to go. I'm not letting you out of my sight—not yet. Besides, I got a ride here. You don't want me to call a cab, do you? Do they even have cabs in this town?"

We share a laugh that lightens the tension somewhat.

"So, you want me to drive you... home?" I ask uncertainly.

"I want us to talk—without interruptions. I know just the place." Edward's eyes light up. "Come with me."

"Aren't you going to change?"

"When we get there."

Decided, Edward tugs me by the hand, opening the door and leading me down a long hallway. Our footsteps are hushed on the thick red carpeting, and again, I'm struck by the atmosphere of this place. I say a silent prayer of thanks and apology to God for today. A big part of me still feels it was wrong to sully God's house in that way.

At the end of the hall, Esme is waiting for us. Her expression is neutral, her eyes kind. As we reach her, I pull back slightly, trying to stand behind Edward. He turns his head, eyes quizzical, because he doesn't understand why I'm resisting.

Esme understands, though. "Bella, honey, don't feel funny in front of me. Thank God you got to Edward before he married that... Tanya." Her face flushes slightly. I think she was about to use language that's not part of her everyday vocabulary. "Edward, do you need a ride?"

"No thanks, Mom. Bella and I need to talk. I'm going to bring her to the cottage, if you don't mind."

Esme looks startled for a moment. "Oh! Um, sure."

"We've missed a lot of time. We need to decide where we go from here."

Esme steps in and grabs us both into her embrace. "You don't have to explain anything to me, Edward. You're a grown man capable of taking care of yourself. I wish you both the best; something this tragic never should have happened. I'm glad it goes no further."

Gratitude floods through me. She doesn't even know the whole story, and already she's accepted me. "Thank you, Mrs. Cullen," I say shyly.

"Mrs. Cullen makes me sound so old! Please call me Esme."

"Thank you, Esme."

And then we're outside in the cool air. We walk down the front steps of the church hand-in-hand. As usual, even though Forks Avenue is the 'main drag' in town, there are few cars out and about. I breathe deeply of the fresh air. I'm able to fully inflate my lungs, and it feels freeing, leaving me with the impression that something that's been pressing on my chest for a long time has finally released.

"Where are you parked?" Edward asks.

My face flushes when I think about executing my plan, and how I parked my rental car out of sight even though I knew nobody would recognize it. "Behind the internet cafe. Can you believe they have an internet cafe here in Forks of all places?" I laugh shakily.

Edward stops walking, tugging back on my hand until I face him. He caresses my cheek in his palm, and my heart beats faster as his masculine scent fills my nostrils. "Are you all right, Bella?"

"Yes, of course," I lie, dropping my eyes. Why am I lying to Edward? Hasn't there been enough subterfuge? Misdirection is how we got where we are in the first place. "No. No, I'm not." I shake my head.

Edward remains silent, his thumb rubbing lightly over my cheekbone. Finally, I look up at him, and he's gazing down at me with adoration—and a crooked little smile that takes my breath away. My eyes widen as I take him in, and I wonder how someone so beautiful might end up being mine. Not that I think I'm ugly or plain, but he's stunning in a movie-star kind of way. His eyes gaze into mine, and I'm hypnotized by emerald, held captive by the intensity of his stare. I have the feeling I'm being stripped bare before him, and I can feel my face heat an even deeper shade of red. My lips part—I need to say something—but Edward shakes his head slowly.

"Shh... it's okay. You're nervous." It's not a question; it's a statement. He's so sure of himself, which amazes me after what he's been through today. "Don't be. You have no idea how long I've waited for you, how often I dreamed that there was some... mistake..." Edward's voice falters, choked with emotion, and his eyes slip closed as he presses his forehead to mine.

"Oh, Edward," I sigh. "Maybe we should, um, go to the cottage to have this conversation?"

"Yes, we absolutely should." His lips graze mine lightly, sending my heart soaring, and then he pulls at my hand again.

Leading him to the Corolla I rented, I dig in my handbag for the keys. Even though Edward has reassured me, and I do feel somewhat better about things, I'm still terribly nervous. We haven't seen each other in nearly four years, and although Edward seems to return my feelings, there's still a surreal edge to reality. I worry that I'll wake up and find he's just a dream that will slip away like a wisp of smoke as consciousness seeps back in.

My hand comes in contact with cold metal, and I snag the keyring with a finger. Rifling through the keys to find the one that opens the door—there are only three—my hand shakes so badly that I drop them into a small puddle of water on the asphalt. "Damn it."

I bend to reach for them, but Edward grabs my hand. "No, let me." He plucks the keys from the water, shaking them off, and locates the proper one to unlock the door. Turning to face me, he puts his hands on my upper arms. "Bella, why don't you let me drive?"

"Okay." I'm happy to let him take over. He knows where the cottage is, and I don't trust myself not to crash into something.

True gentleman that he is, Edward walks me around to the passenger side of the car and opens the door for me. I fumble with the seat belt; it seems I'm incapable of doing anything that requires even the mildest of precision, such as buckling the damn thing. My face flushes when Edward gets into the car, and my fingers are still shaking too hard to manage this small task.

A warm hand is laid on mine, stilling my awkward attempts. "Allow me." Edward leans over me, quickly buckling me in, and his masculine scent envelops me. Memories of high school come rushing back—the good and the bad—and I breathe deeply, not wanting to suppress them anymore. In fact, I need to go there if we're going to be able to move forward together.

Edward hovers close, taking in a breath, and I wonder if he's remembering, too. He places a chaste kiss on my cheek, but it still sends shivers of pleasure through me. As he starts leaning back, I run my fingers lightly over his clean-shaven face. "Thank you." When I say this, it encompasses much more than thanking him for buckling me into the car. I'm so grateful that he listened, that he didn't judge me too harshly... that he has feelings for me, too.

The car smoothly purrs to life. Edward holds out his hand, and I gladly take it—it's something to hold on to, something tangible and real in what feels like fantasy. By unspoken agreement, neither of us speak; we just hold hands on the ride to the cottage. Edward's thumb rubs gently over my knuckles, and I feel so cared for. My eyes slip closed, and the sounds of the road fade away...

"Bella..."

I wrinkle my brow.

"Bella, sweetheart, wake up." Soft, velvety, sexy... Edward.

I open my eyes, and he's really here. I'm really here. Stretching my arms as my faculties return, I feel ashamed for nodding off on him. "Sorry I fell asleep," I say sheepishly.

"It's okay; this has been quite the day for both of us. We're here."

Blinking my eyes sleepily, I gaze out the windshield at a beautiful cottage nestled in the woods. It looks like something out of a dream, and not for the first time today, I question reality. The little house is made up of pastel colored stones, a thatched roof, paned windows in different sizes and shapes with flower boxes beneath some of them, and a curved front door that looks like it belongs in a fairytale—in fact, the whole scene looks like it belongs in a fairytale.

"Wow."

I'm startled when my car door opens, and Edward leans in to offer me his hand. He helps me out of the car and leads me to the door of the adorable little house. I used to dream of having a little place like this; it's just so perfect. Fumbling in his pocket, he pulls out a key ring that has a miniature cottage on it, and I can't help but smile.

Edward catches my look and smirks. "My mom," he says in explanation. "She thought it was a good match."

"It is."

Edward opens the door, sweeping an arm out. "My lady."

A flush creeps up the back of my neck, and I wonder just how often this man is going to garner this reaction from me. I wish I could control it.

Stepping over the threshold, I take in our surroundings. The front door lets into a cozy living room. The walls of the cottage are stone, there are hardwood floors polished to a gleam with strategically placed area rugs, and a fireplace graces the center wall, leading me to believe there might be a matching fireplace elsewhere. Comfortable looking beige leather couches are grouped in the center of the room, and there's a floor to ceiling built-in book case to the right that holds many volumes and knick-knacks. An adorable breakfast nook separates the living room from the kitchen, which is small but looks fully functional. A hallway runs up the center of the cottage alongside the kitchen leading to other rooms I can't see yet.

Walking forward slowly, my eyes rove over the place, and I'm embarrassed at the way I'm gawking. There's silence behind me, and I turn to see Edward watching me carefully. I'm not sure what to make of his expression.

"What?" I ask self-consciously.

"You seem to be examining the house pretty intently."

"Oh, uh, sorry."

"No, that's okay. I'm just wondering why."

"Well, jeez, Edward! Just look at this place. It's... it's..."

"Too small?" he offers.

"Perfection. It's perfection." I move further into the room, drifting over by the fireplace where I see pictures of all the Cullens on the mantelpiece. "I mean, it's so darling. Elegant, yet cozy. It would make the ideal little retreat." I turn back to face Edward with a soft sigh of delight.

His face is slightly incredulous. "Not what I was expecting to hear." He lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head as he strolls into the room and shuts the door behind him.

"Did I say something wrong, Edward?" Confusion floods through me. He's behaving so strangely!

"Not at all. I'm sorry, Bella; it's just that I've been defending this place so much lately."

"What's to defend? Only a blind man wouldn't immediately see the charm."

"Tanya hates it. We were going to spend our wedding night here because our plane wasn't leaving until tomorrow. This place didn't meet Tanya's five star requirements."

"Well, she obviously has substandard taste in accommodations because this is the ideal place to spend a wedding night."

"Oh, it is?" Edward asks with a smirk.

For the thousandth time, my face flushes. "Um... well, I think it is. It would be where I'd want to spend my wedding night... I mean -" I slap a hand over my mouth feeling like a complete idiot. "Oh, Bella... open mouth, insert foot!" I mutter.

Edward crosses the rest of the living room, taking my hand in his. "Hey. I know what you meant. Bella, I want you to be comfortable with me. I know this is... strange... but I want you to feel you can tell me whatever is on your mind. Okay?"

I look up into earnest green eyes, and I melt. He's trying so hard; he really wants this, too. "Okay; I promise to try."

"That's my girl." Edward winks at me, and my insides turn to goo, my breath catches, and my heart starts racing. He sweeps a finger over my cheek. "I'm going to change out of this monkey suit. Make yourself at home, and I'll be back in a few. The fridge is stocked if you want something to eat or drink."

Edward heads down the hall, and I find myself alone to gaze around this glorious, magical little cottage. Why am I not surprised that its incredible charm escaped the high maintenance Tanya? Pfft. Her loss. Maybe someday... but I probably shouldn't let my head get too far into the clouds yet. Edward and I still have a bumpy road ahead of us.

Grabbing a glass from the cabinet in the kitchen, I pour myself some ice water. My stomach rolls as I think about the conversation Edward and I need to have. Aside from the desire to see if we can make it as a couple, I have to come clean about the way I methodically planned to interrupt his nuptials.

Suddenly, the front door slams open, startling me out of my reverie. I look over to see Tanya Denali strut into the room, high heels clicking on the hardwood. She's wearing a red dress that fits her like a second skin and showcases her ample cleavage. If I hadn't seen her crying earlier, I would think nothing had gone wrong today; her makeup is flawless, her skin clear.

When her eyes land on me, she hisses, "You!" Her eyes are murderous, and she lunges straight toward me with her fists balled up.

The glass slips from my hand and crashes to the floor. The sound is deafening... like a gun shot. After the initial impact, I can hear a tinkling sound as the shards of glass hit against the floor, wall and cabinets. Icy water splashes everywhere, and I jolt when some of it hits my legs.

Tanya is still coming, her blue eyes blazing with a fire borne of rage and hatred, and I'm frozen in place, unsure what to do. It reminds me of a deer caught in the headlights of a truck bearing down on it—the horror is there, you know it's coming, but you're unable to get the message relayed between the brain and the body.

"Bella?" Edward's concerned voice snaps me out of my haze. "Are you all right?"

Edward. He has no idea that Tanya is out here; he doesn't know what he's walking into. Apparently, his voice penetrated the bubble I was in, but my mouth still isn't working right.

"Edward..." I try to warn, but it comes out in a croaky whisper too low for him to hear.

The three of us are on a collision course, and there's nothing I can do about it. Although I know it's only seconds, everything seems to happen in slow motion.

Tanya is to my right, stomping straight toward me.

To my left, I hear the sound of Edward's feet padding on the floor, and my gaze turns sharply his way. My mouth falls slightly open when he comes into view. Edward apparently didn't have time to finish dressing—his feet are bare, and he's wearing a pair of faded jeans that hang low on his slim hips. His lean, muscled chest is gloriously naked with the exception of what looks like dog-tags hanging on a chain around his neck.

"Bella? What -" When Edward sees Tanya, his emerald eyes darken. "Tanya, what the hell are you doing here?" he growls.

Tanya is brought up short by the sight of Edward, and she looks him over from head to toe, cocking an eyebrow. She recovers quickly, putting her hands on her hips. "Well, well, well. Isn't this cozy?

~SN~

~*Edward*~

I'm torn between wanting to stay with Bella and the urge to change my clothes. On one hand, the tux is stiff and uncomfortable, plus it's the only physical reminder of the day that I've brought away from the church, save for Bella herself. On the other hand, I don't want to let her out of my sight; it's like I'm afraid she'll disappear in a puff of smoke, leaving me wondering what could have been. In the end, changing my clothes isn't really a choice; I know I can't wear my wedding attire any longer.

After letting Bella know that I'm going to change, I walk down the hall to the only bedroom in the cottage. Though I'm anxious to get back to Bella, I also want to think things through while I change, so I fight the urge to strip and redress quickly, taking my time instead.

I take the clothes off in the reverse order of the way I put them on earlier, starting with the shiny shoes and thin socks, then the tie. When all of the pieces of the tux are lying on the bed and I'm standing there in just my boxers and my grandfather's dog tags, the thoughts really begin to flood my brain, although they're mostly variations on the same question: What the hell happened today? The scene replays in my head, and I sit heavily on the bed, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands, running them roughly over my face and through my hair. For a split second, I even find myself wondering why Bella waited until it was almost too late to speak up. She could've contacted my parents a couple of days ago or asked to speak with me before the wedding. There were any number of choices that she could've made other than standing up during my wedding and making her pronouncement.

It's a conscious effort for me to banish those thoughts; blaming Bella is not something I'm interested in doing. None of this is her fault any more than it's mine. The blame lies squarely on Tanya's shoulders. If you want to blame someone, remember that tape. The tape says it all.

Again, while the tape explains her motive for coming forward, it doesn't say anything as to why she waited. You can surmise all day long, or you can go talk to her. The question to ask isn't why she waited; the question is 'do you want to be with her?' I groan and flop back on the bed. That question is a lot harder than it appears on the surface. Tanya was a good match for me; that's why I stayed with her for four years, after all. Though I had instant chemistry with Bella every time I saw her—that tingly, butterflies-in-your-stomach excitement that I never felt with Tanya—so much is still unknown. We've had one night together, and it was years ago; we were barely legal adults then. No matter what I want, I have to be smart about this. I can't just dive headfirst into something with Bella without having a lot of conversations with her, and time alone, too, to make sense of all my thoughts.

But then the more recent events of the day flood my mind. I can't help but think that Bella didn't want to come here and break up a wedding. Nothing about her behavior today makes me think she acted out of selfishness. She didn't care whether I chose her in the end or not; she just wanted to make the truth known. That's the thought that ultimately gets me moving again. I know there's a lot more talking that needs to happen, and then we have a decision to make together. Maybe multiple decisions. I still have one more year of school left to get my degree, and married to Tanya, dating Bella, or all alone makes no difference; I will get my degree, and I will work hard and get a good job after graduation. That's something I have to do for myself, and I make a silent vow that nothing will get in the way of finishing college, no matter how fucked up my life is right now.

After pushing up off the bed and striding across the room, I grab my suitcase from its spot by the door, ignoring the other one that's sitting there—Tanya's. Right on top are my favorite jeans and an ash-gray Dartmouth tee, so I pull them out and zip the luggage shut again, ignoring the shorts and sandals that are packed for a week in Fiji.

Before I can pull any of the clothes on, there's a loud crashing sound coming from the direction of the main room; I'm not entirely sure what it is, but it's not good. Quickly, I yank the jeans up over my hips and fasten them as I walk toward the door and back down the hall. "Bella? Are you all right?" Concern is evident in my voice.

I can't see Bella yet, but I know that no good can come from a sound like the one I heard. It's a struggle for me to keep a sane pace rather than rushing to her aid, but somehow, I manage to do it. When I emerge from the mouth of the hallway into the kitchen, Bella is looking my way, obviously waiting for me to appear. Her mouth drops open slightly at the sight of me, and I can't help but feel as though my ego's been stroked just a bit. That thought is eliminated the instant I see the panic on her face, however. "Bella? What –" I start, but something catches my attention—just a flash of bright red out of the corner of my eye. I look in the direction of the red, and can't believe what I'm seeing. "Tanya, what the hell are you doing here?" My voice is livid, which I have no problem with. It matches how I feel, seeing her now. The idea of Tanya showing up at the cottage never even entered my mind as a possible scenario for what might happen today.

Tanya's eyes roam my body greedily, and if I wasn't so mad, I'd be flattered. Flattery is the last thing on my mind now, and when Tanya speaks, my anger is multiplied tenfold. "Well, well, well. Isn't this cozy?"

I literally see red, and it's not because of Tanya's dress.

A few deep breaths and a silent ten-count later—three silent ten-counts, actually—and I think my mind is clear enough that I'll be able to have a civilized conversation. The first thing to do is talk to Bella. Ignoring Tanya, I make my way to the kitchen where Bella's still standing, shaking like a leaf.

"I'm sorry, Edward. I'm so s-s-sorry," she stutters, watching me approach. "I t-tr-tried to –"

"Shh, shh, Bella, it doesn't matter. Ouch! What the hell?" The pain in my feet is instantaneous upon entering the kitchen. I look down and am surprised to see broken glass all over the hardwood floor; upon further thought, though, the crashing sound that caught my attention in the first place makes sense now. Gingerly lifting one foot, then the other to assess the damage done to my feet, I can tell that the pain is worse than the actual injury. Pushing through the pain, and looking at the ground rather than at Bella to avoid further glass-crunching, I make my way over to her.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I didn't know she was coming, and then she showed up here and came in without knocking and…" Bella takes a deep breath before continuing, "She just started yelling at me, and I was shocked, and the glass slipped. I'm sorry, Edward; I didn't mean to break it. I was just trying to drink some water –"

I cut her off. "Bella, Bella, it's not your fault. None of this is your fault." My words are not only designed to help calm her but to remind me of the conclusion I'd come to in the bedroom. Which reminds me… I spin around—and curse again, thanks to those damn cuts—to face my fiancée. Ex-fiancée, I remind myself, emphasizing the 'ex.' Reaching behind my back, I grasp Bella's hand and lead her through the labyrinth of broken glass to the living room where Tanya is standing, arms crossed over her chest, looking every bit the self-righteous bitch she's been ever since Bella came forward during the wedding ceremony. "Why are you here, Tanya? You didn't think my learning the truth was enough torture for me for one day?"

"Oh, spare me, Edward," she snaps. "Torture." She rolls her eyes at my word, as if it's too strong a sentiment.

I'm honestly taken aback. It's difficult for me to reconcile this woman with the one I was about to marry earlier today. She looks the same as the Tanya that I'd grown to love, but she certainly doesn't act the same. "Yes, Tanya, torture. It was the right word."

"You think your new girlfriend didn't torture me today? It was my wedding she ruined, and now I come here to find the two of you, alone together, in the place we were supposed to spend our wedding night."

Bella inhales sharply behind me, as if the enormity of what's happening is just now hitting her. I don't think it is; she had to have gone over this several times in her mind before today. Things are just so real now, with Bella and me alone in the cottage, being interrupted by Tanya, and Tanya's unspoken accusation in those three little words 'Isn't this cozy?' I glare at Tanya and remind her, not for the first time today, "Our wedding, Tanya. It was our wedding, not yours." I turn my head to look over my shoulder at Bella. "I'm not sure you really want to listen to this, Bella. I don't think it's going to be pretty. I mean, I know that it involves you, too, so I won't force you to leave, but it might be better if you waited in the bedroom."

"That's fine; I have no problem waiting in the other room." Bella's voice is barely a whisper, and she honestly looks a little relieved at my suggestion. She makes her escape down the short hall I emerged from just moments before, and the door clicks shut behind her. She'll still be able to hear the confrontation if she listens, but by not being in the room, she has the option of at least trying to ignore what's sure to become a shouting match before long.

Once Bella's gone, I sit on the couch and begin the arduous task of picking glass out of the bottoms of my feet methodically, ignoring Tanya. With each plink, plink of glass hitting the end table next to me, I can hear Tanya getting more and more irritated. The toe of her red, high-heeled shoe is tapping impatiently against the shined wood floor, and the tempo is picking up. I've got all the time in the world, though. I know that this isn't exactly the best way to deal with things—avoidance—but I'm beyond caring. When both feet are clear of glass, and I think Tanya's about worn a hole in my mother's hardwood floor with her tapping, I lift my gaze to meet hers.

"You're finally going to pay attention to me?" Her voice is nothing short of a sneer.

"You could have spoken at any time, Tanya," I reply, matching her tone. "Why did you come here?"

"I should be asking you that same question."

"I came here to talk." She scoffs, but I continue, "Yes, talk things out with Bella. I've gone over all of this with you already, Tanya. I'm not going to rub your face in the fact that Bella came here, okay? But I'm also not going to let you in my business anymore. I couldn't care less that it happened to be Bella who brought your actions to light. Honestly, I couldn't give a damn who it was; I'm just glad I learned the truth before it was too late. I still can't believe what you did." I shake my head in disgust.

"Oh, come off it, Edward," she replies. "I know you claim that you weren't kidding at the church, and you're acting all high and mighty now, but I honestly don't believe you. It'll just be a matter of time before you're back in my bed. And in the meantime, I'll wait."

"You'll be waiting a really long fucking time, then," I snap, standing up now and testing the wounds on my feet. They're not bad; I'm pretty sure I won't need any medical attention. "I don't care if Bella storms out of the bedroom right now and tells me she never wants to see me again because she's afraid that you'll never leave us alone. Well, actually, I do care if she says that. I don't care if she decides she doesn't want to be with me on her own merits, but I swear to God, Tanya, I don't care if I end up old and alone. That's a better fate than marrying you. I will never—I repeat, never—be with you again. I wouldn't be with you if you paid me all the money in your trust fund. Now that I know what you're capable of…" I can't even finish the thought; I just shudder.

"Oh, you have no idea what I'm capable of," she retorts. "You think what I did at eighteen was bad? Well, you ain't seen nothing yet, baby." She doesn't even bother trying to hide the imminent threat, and I want to throw something at her. Luckily for her, I have incredible self-control, because the only things within my reach are the glass picture frames of my family. Plus, I know that my mom would be really pissed—though she'd hide it well—if I did anything to damage her little bungalow. It's my adoration and respect for my mom—even more than my self-control—that keeps me from grabbing one of those photographs and launching it at Tanya's head. I'm also reminded of words I'd heard as a child—never hurt a lady. I scoff internally. Tanya's proven herself to be anything but a 'lady.'

Since I can't throw something at her like I want to, I make sure my anger is evident in my voice; it drips with venom. "I swear on my mother's life, Tanya, if you do anything to fuck this up for me, after having stolen the past four years of my life, I'll make good on my threat, too. You are not the one in control of this situation. The statutory limit isn't up on what you did to Bella, and she has proof that slipping her the GHB was all your idea and not Mike's." I have no idea if what I'm saying is true or not; I'm not a law student, and I could be blowing smoke on this 'statutory limits' nonsense, but it doesn't matter. Tanya doesn't study law, either, so she has no way of knowing whether I'm telling the truth or not. So long as I keep the conviction in my voice, never faltering, she'll believe me.

And for the first time since she's entered the cottage—well, at least since I've noticed her, anyway—she backs down, just as quickly as she backed down in the church. Her arms drop from her chest, and she steps toward me, arms reaching. She seems to realize belatedly what she's doing and instantly halts her actions. Her eyes are practically boring into mine, looking for any trace of insecurity in what I've told her; I know she won't find any. The cold, hard mask finds its way back to her features, and Tanya's all business now. "Well, whatever, Edward. I still don't believe you, so we'll just have to see who's right in the end."

"Yeah, we will. Rest assured, though, it sure as hell won't be you."

She rolls her eyes again in classic Tanya style. "I guess all that's left now is for me to get my stuff. Oh, and what are your plans for Fiji? Are you taking your new love bunny on our honeymoon?"

My forehead wrinkles in disgust. "You've got to be fucking kidding me. You really think I'd stoop that goddamn low? No, Tanya, I'm not taking Bella on our would-be honeymoon to Fiji. In fact, you can have the fucking tickets. I don't want them. As soon as we're done here, I'll get your suitcase and the tickets. You can take whoever the hell you want. I don't even care."

"I'm done if you are." Her tone is one of finality, and I know that anything else I say will go in one ear and out the other, so it's best to just cut the ties now and hope I never have to see her again. Although, her threat from moments before comes back to haunt me, and I know that I'm just not that lucky. There's no way in hell she's 'done' like she claims to be. It's enough that she's done for now, though.

"Yeah, I'm done. I'll go get your stuff."

Bella glances up when I enter the tiny bedroom; she's sitting in the same spot on the bed that I was twenty minutes ago. "How's it going out there?"

"It's okay. Nothing for you to worry about." I can't not touch Bella, seeing her here. The attraction is honestly a little frightening, but she's like a magnet; the north to my south. Like a moth to the flame, I'm drawn to her. Before I realize what's happened, I'm standing directly in front of her, cupping her face in my hands. "Bella, I'm sorry she showed up here. I had no idea she was planning on coming out here. I suppose I should've guessed that she wouldn't be able to let the trip go to waste, though. That's the reason she came: to get the tickets for what was supposed to be our honeymoon. I don't know who she's taking, but she's going on the trip, and I'm staying here. With you. We'll at least have a couple of weeks while she's in Fiji to figure all this shit out."

"You don't have to apologize for her showing up here, you know," Bella replies, grabbing on to the first thing I said. "There was no way that could have been predicted, and I'm not mad. Especially not at you. Hell, you should be mad at me for breaking that glass all over the floor. How are your feet, by the way? I'm really sorry about that."

"Listen to us," I chuckle. "A couple of apologizers, when neither of us has really done anything wrong." She giggles at my synopsis of the situation. "My feet are fine, though; don't worry about it. And as soon as Tanya leaves, we'll clean up the kitchen and have that conversation we came here to have."

Leaning down, I place a tender kiss on Bella's mouth; nothing deep, just enough to let her know that I'm okay, and I really do want to have the chance to work things through with her. And maybe to remind myself of what's waiting for me when I finish with Tanya. Just like at Mike Newton's party in high school, and again an hour ago at the church, the spark where our skin touches jolts through my body, causing me to gasp slightly before pulling away. The look on Bella's face as I pull away is almost enough to make me forget about my ex in the other room. Actually, it would have been if it weren't for the sound of Tanya's goddamn red heels clicking all over the floor as if I were causing her some huge frickin' inconvenience by not being fast enough. I sigh, irritated by Tanya's pacing in the living room. "I'll be right back," I promise Bella. "Just give me a few more minutes to get rid of Tanya."

"Yeah, no problem."

Grabbing the airline envelope from the top of the dresser and Tanya's suitcase from the floor near the door, I hurry back to the main room and practically thrust Tanya's things at her. "There. You've got what you came for now and a free trip to boot. Now get the hell out of my life."

"You don't really mean that, Edward," she purrs, trying her hand at seducing me.

I can't believe what I'm hearing. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. "I mean it more than you'll ever know, Tanya. Obviously I can't reason with you anymore. Go to Fiji, have a great time, and when you get back, don't ever call me again." My eyes are still closed, and I sincerely hope that she doesn't press me any further. I don't open my eyes, but I hear Tanya's shoes clacking their way across the room, and then the sound of the cottage's front door opening and closing. It's only then that I open my eyes. And, thank God, she's actually gone. For how long, only time will tell. I just hope that she's taken my threat seriously.

Finally, finally, I make my way back to Bella.

~SN~

A/N: So... do you think Tanya's finished with them? Nah. Of course not! What do you think Tanya will do? What is she capable of? *shiver*

Thanks so much for reading! Reviewers will receive a teaser for the next chapter. Please note that if you have PMs disabled, you won't be able to receive review replies/teasers.

There will be a special outtake of this story gifted for the Fandom for Sexual Assault Awareness in June. Details to come...

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