As always, Katie & Trin make my words prettier. Thank 'em, because they're the best. I had two prereaders for this chapter because I panicked. Thanks Agu & Jara. Your input really, really helped.

I don't own Twilight, its characters or anything else that is publicly recognizable. Dexter, his family and these words are mine. Please don't steal.


I know they've all been talking about me.
I can hear them whisper and it makes me think
there must be something wrong with me.
Out of all the hours, thinking somehow
I've lost my mind.
I'm not crazy; I'm just a little unwell.
I know right now you can't tell.
Stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
a different side of me.
-Unwell, Matchbox Twenty

"Happy birthday, Bella!" I groaned when Ben put a shot glass, lemon wedge and sugar packet in front of me. "I can't bake, so you get a chocolate cake shot instead."

"Not a good idea Ben. I've already had four shots. I'd like to remember my birthday party, you know?"

"Suck it up and take the damn shot," Angela said with a smile. "He's been talking about bringing this to you all night."

I rolled my eyes and sprinkled some of the sugar over the lemon wedge, raising the glass to Ben and Angela and tapping it on the table before tossing the liquor back. I was still sucking on my lemon wedge when Emmett decided I needed to do a shot of whiskey.

"No Em. I don't want to get drunk tonight," I said pointedly.

"Take the fucking shot, Bella."

Emmett had reached his alcohol limit several hours before, but he wasn't letting that stop him from having a good time. I looked up at the clock and sighed, because so much time had passed since Emmett's phone call that Edward likely wasn't coming.

I hadn't even realized how much I wanted him to come until he wasn't there.

I hadn't talked to him since the day after Tom and Sandy's anniversary party and he hadn't spoken to me.

Knowing what I wanted and following through on it were two completely different things. Talking to Sandy at the party had been such a huge step backwards for me that I loathed the thought of calling her on Dexter's birthday, but I knew if I didn't, she'd never let me live it down.

I picked up the phone and dialed the number I'd been dialing for almost fifteen years. My breath caught in my throat when Tom answered. We had a brief chat, and he told me how proud he was of me again.

"Wanna talk to Sandy?"

"Honestly? No," I sighed. "But I have to. I just feel like we won't make any progress at all if I don't, you know?"

"I know sweetie. Give her time; she'll come around."

"Bella."

"Hey Sandy. Just wanted to call and let you know I'm thinking of you today. I mean, I think about you every day, but I know today is hard for me, so I can't even imagine what you're going through."

"It was nice of you to call. How's your friend Edward?" she asked.

"Um, fine I guess? I don't really know. I haven't talked with him since the other night. I, um, said some pretty mean things to him on the way home."

"Well perhaps it's for the best, dear. You wouldn't want to get wrapped up in a new relationship just now. Take time to grieve. I'm sure no one expects you to get out there and date any time soon."

"No, couldn't accuse anyone of that," I snapped. "Look, I just wanted to call and say that I get it, especially today. First time in more than twenty years I'm not eating a red velvet cupcake and I'm a little sad about it. I just thought you'd like to know. I need to go."

"Goodbye Bella," she hesitated slightly. "It was nice of you to call. If I don't get to speak with you, I hope you have a lovely birthday. I'm going to a meeting on Tuesday night if you're interested."

"I might be. I need to check my schedule at work, but I'll definitely call you. Bye Sandy," I said softly, hanging up the phone.

I shook my head, realizing that I'd been zoning out. Angela was sitting next to me, babbling about talking to Ben and ordering more shots. I looked up from where I was shredding a napkin on the table and froze.

He was here. He came. He drove all the way back from Seattle tonight to be here for my party.

I stood up from the table and threw myself into his arms. "Edddddwaarrrrdddd! You came!"

He took a step back to catch his balance, and a few deep breaths because apparently I'd knocked the wind out of him. "Hi Bella," he said softly into my hair.

"I'm so glad you're here!" My voice was several octaves higher than normal and definitely louder than usual. "Edward. You came back from Seattle tonight. You weren't supposed to be here."

"I know," he sighed.

I didn't let him out of my sight for the rest of the party. I let him buy me a drink and took more shots than I could count with Ben, Angela, and Emmett. Edward was there the whole time, pushing glass after glass of water toward me, buying me food and reminding me that I'd hate myself in the morning if I got too drunk.

He was right.

I woke up the next morning feeling like someone had shoved a ball of cotton in my mouth, and my stomach rolled when the scent of eggs hit my nose. A quick glance at my body revealed that I'd passed out in the clothes I was wearing the night before.

Stumbling to the bathroom, I took care of my brief morning routine and rubbed my eyes as I walked into the living room. "Who the fuck is making eggs?"

"Good morning to you too, Sunshine," Emmett's voice boomed.

"Too loud, Emmett." I grabbed my cigarettes and waved them in his direction. "Be back in a minute."

The smoke coming off the lit cigarette wound in lazy tendrils and in my hung over state, I got distracted. Before I knew it, the ash had burned to the filter and I was headed back inside.

"Ugh, eggs Emmett? You know I can't do eggs when I'm hung over."

"They're not for you, genius. You're on your own for breakfast," he quipped as he shoved a fork full of scrambled eggs in his mouth. "I'm kidding, B. There are waffles in the toaster for you."

"Thanks."

Emmett finished his breakfast in silence, then turned to me with a conspiratory smile. "So."

"So?"

"Do you want to know what happened last night?"

"I know what happened last night," I muttered. "I drank too much, and you and I stumbled back here. I really should start charging you rent."

"True, that did happen. But you forgot the most interesting part of the night."

"If you're talking about Angela giving Ben a lap dance, I remember that."

"Nooo, not that," he snickered, trying and failing to repress his smirk.

"What the hell, Emmett? Fucking tell me already."

"Once upon a time, Miss Bella Swan was out with her friends to celebrate her birthday. She sulked a lot of the night -"

"Emmett," I growled. "Not a good time for games." My face was hot, and trepidation and embarrassment were settling in my stomach.

"You kind of jumped into Edward's lap and made out with him in front of everyone at the party."

I closed my eyes and grimaced. "Kind of or did?"

"Oh, did. He left right after, though he didn't look nearly as mortified as you," he laughed.

"Shit."

"Mmhmm," Emmett nodded.

"Fuck. Emmett, who was there when it happened?"

"Me, Ange, Ben, Kate. Not a big deal."

"Not a big deal? Em, I trust you. I trust Angela and Ben. Kate, I'm not so sure about. She's like Jessica's best friend and if this gets out. Shit. What am I going to do?"

"Maybe try talking to Edward about it?"

"I can't. There's no way I can face him knowing that this happened."

Emmett laughed loudly and I winced. "Dude, cut it out. I'm rocking a monster hangover here."

"You'll be fine, Bella. He didn't seem to hate it. I'm actually kind of proud of the boy," he fake sniffed. "He didn't put his hands anywhere inappropriate, and he even said no when you asked him to come home with you."

"Please tell me that last part was a joke."

"No, he really said no."

I banged my head slowly against the table. "I can't ever leave this apartment again. I can claim post traumatic agoraphobia or something, right?"

"Not a chance in hell," Emmett clapped me on the shoulder. "It was great to see you making out with someone again."

"Shut up," I whined.

"Seriously Bella. It's good to see you letting loose. Obviously the social lubricant didn't hurt, but you were really relaxed with Edward last night, more relaxed than I've ever seen you with him. Is that what you're like when it's just the two of you?" he asked softly.

"I guess so? I mean we've made out a couple of times. We almost always cuddle when we're watching movies or TV or whatever. I just really like the way it feels to be close to him, Em. I feel almost normal when we're together, like I did when I was with Dexter, but it's still so different. Sometimes," I mused quietly, "it's like things are better now than they ever were. I feel like such an asshole saying that. You know how much I cared about Dex, but I feel like maybe I might have been pretending with him.

"How awful is that? I know what I felt for him was very real but the way some people react to what I think I might be feeling for Edward just makes me feel so damn guilty, you know? I snapped at him on the way back from the anniversary party just because he called me baby. It wasn't fair, and I should have explained it to him, but how do you say "It makes me uncomfortable when you call me baby, because that's what my dead boyfriend called me" to someone?"

"I'm sorry I snapped at you, Edward. It makes me uncomfortable when you call me baby because that's why my dead boyfriend called me?"

I threw my napkin at Emmett. "You're a smart ass."

###

September faded quickly into October. In October, I found myself engaged in a delicate balance with Edward, which Emmett called a dance of avoidance. Edward hinted heavily that he might want to move back to Chicago. We had a few arguments, and I always felt so so guilty afterward, but I couldn't do more than promise to try.

We spent Halloween together at The Last Call, where - to my chagrin - we won the couples' costume contest. Who would have thought dressing as mustard and ketchup would win us anything? I suspected Emmett and Ben had stuffed the ballot box.

Edward went to Chicago for Thanksgiving, and for the first time, I was really scared he wouldn't come back. We talked a few times while he was there, but never did anything beyond exchanging pleasantries. He mentioned telling his parents about me and that he'd seen his friend Jake and his family. I happened to call once while he was at Jake's and got a good laugh out of his ridiculous sense of humor. I told Emmett that night that I was fearful of ever getting him and Jake in the same room.

Things with Edward were . . . weird. He was distant, detached. We never did anything more than kiss a bit - which I always initiated - and I could tell he was starting to get frustrated.

In mid December, just before he left for Chicago again, I'd agreed to go on a "real" date with Edward. We went to dinner and a movie in Port Angeles. I'd picked the location, because I assumed I would be safe from the prying eyes of the Forks Contingent Against Bella Ever Moving On With Her Life.

I was wrong. Of all the nights for Tom and Sandy to be out to dinner over an hour away from home, they were out the same night I was out with Edward. I'd pulled my hand awkwardly from his when I saw them walk in and apologized profusely when we got to our table. They'd been sweet, making pleasant small talk with Edward while we waited for our respective tables, but Sandy's eyes gave her away. She was livid.

He'd tried to kiss me in front of the restaurant, but I'd turned my head to the side so he wound up kissing my temple when I caught Sandy looking through the window at us.

He'd left for Chicago barely on speaking terms with me.

Christmas was always a big deal to my family. To mine, and to Dexter's. We'd spent practically every Christmas together since my mom and Sandy had become friends, and I knew there was no way I could get out of our traditional dinner the day after Christmas.

I was pouting, because Edward had been gone for nearly a week and hadn't called me, or returned any of my calls. I tried calling one more time before I left for Tom and Sandy's, but I got his voice mail again.

I sighed as I listened to his message. "You've reached Edward Cullen. I'm unable to answer your call at this time. Please leave a detailed message with your name and call back number, and I will return your call as soon as possible."

"Hey Edward. It's me. I know you're probably still really angry with me, but I just wanted to call and say I hope you had a great Christmas. Um, I don't know if you want to get together when you get back? I got you something, and I'd like to give it to you in person. If you're not up for it, that's no big deal, but I thought I'd offer. I'm working every night up to New Year's Eve, so just stop into the bar if you want when you get back. Wow, I don't even know when you're coming back. Okay, I'm going to stop rambling now. Merry, um, Merry Christmas, Edward. Hope you're having a good time in Chicago. Bye."

I hung up the phone and threw it across the room, thankful that it bounced instead of shattering when it hit the wall.

I got dressed for dinner and smiled at Emmett when he picked me up. I was not looking forward to spending time with most of Dexter's family. I'd run into Tom a few days after my disastrous date with Edward, and he'd once again expressed his pride in me for doing as Dexter had asked. I'd rolled my eyes and shrugged it off.

I felt awkward walking into the house I'd practically grown up in with Emmett at my side instead of Dexter. My parents were already there and my mom, sensing something was wrong, immediately pulled me into a tight hug. I wandered into the kitchen, where Tom put a glass of wine in my hand and told me to make myself at home.

I was surprised with myself when I found myself sitting on Dexter's bed fifteen minutes later. Setting the glass on the nightstand, I lay back slowly and pressed one of the pillows to my face. I imagined I could still smell him on the fabric, a perfect mix of trees and salt spray.

"This is hard," I said to the empty room.

"I'm trying, baby. I'm trying to do what you wanted me to do. I know you like Edward, but to be perfectly honest, I'm not sure he likes me much anymore. We went on a real date a week ago, you know? I hadn't been on one of those in forever," I imagined myself teasing Dexter.

"Your parents were out the same night and it was just so damn awkward. I thought I'd die of shame in the lobby of that restaurant, and I fucked up kind of bad. I snatched my hand out of Edward's like it was hot enough to brand me as soon as I saw your mother. She's not exactly making this whole moving on thing easy. It's like every time I take a step forward with him, your mom knocks me back two steps. I just want to do what you asked. I want to honor you by living, not mourning all the time. What do I do, Dex?"

"Bella?" My dad's voice made me jump. "You in here?" He pushed open the door and smiled sadly at me. "Sandy says dinner's almost ready."

"Yeah, Dad," I swiped the tears out of my eyes, "I'm here. I'll be down in a minute, kay?"

"Sure thing Bells." He took a tentative step into the room. "I think he hears you when you talk to him, you know. And he'd be so damn proud of you, sweetheart. You're so much stronger than you realize."

"Really?" I snorted. "Because I feel like I'm stuck in a rut I'll never get out of."

"Her opinion doesn't matter, Bella. You know what he wanted for you, and you gotta do your best with what you've got."

I stood up from the bed and put the pillow back in its place, smiling sadly at my father before he wrapped me in a hug. "Thanks Daddy," I whispered.

We headed downstairs, hand in hand. Walking into the dining room felt like stepping in front of a firing squad. Sandy and Tyler glared at me through dinner, but I brushed it off.

We made our way into the living room to exchange gifts before desert. Tyler made a big deal out of being the first to open his gifts, so we all obliged him. I was on my fourth glass of wine by the time it was my turn to open gifts.

"Mom, Dad, it's beautiful," I gasped, opening a small jewelry box containing what I knew was a necklace my Grandma Swan had made for me. "Remind me to call Gram and thank her, please."

My parents had gone in on a gift certificate to a day spa in Seattle for me with Emmett, and I was shocked at their generosity. Mom brushed it off, saying I deserved a day of relaxation. Once again, Sandy glared at me.

The Robinsons gave me a beautiful picture frame with two pictures in it. Dexter and I were in each of them, in practically the same pose, though the photos had been taken about 18 years apart. We sat together, side by side on the couch, with our arms around each other's necks and matching smiles on our faces. I had a sneaking suspicion Sandy intended to remind me of what I'd lost, and a part of me really hated her for it.

I passed around the gifts I'd brought - bottles of wine for everyone - and drank another glass of wine while everyone else opened their gifts.

When it was finally time to go, I was grateful to have Emmett with me because I was in no condition to drive. I made my rounds, giving hugs to Tom and my parents before standing in front of Sandy.

"Merry Christmas, Sandy. Thank you for the lovely gift."

"I have something else for you, Bella," she said quietly. She pressed something into my hand and hugged me quickly. "I'm sorry you didn't get this sooner."

My heart dropped into my stomach when I saw my name in Dexter's handwriting across the front of the envelope. He'd written me a letter. "But why?" I stuttered. "Why now?"

"He wanted the timing to be perfect."

I didn't dare open it on the way back to my apartment. When Emmett asked why I was so quiet, I held up the envelope with tears in my eyes. "He did it, Em. He wrote me a letter. I just need to read it to find out why I didn't get it until now."

"Merry Christmas Bells," Emmett said when he dropped me in front of my building.

"Merry Christmas, Em."

I didn't bother with the elevator, because I was too anxious to read the letter Dexter had written me. I slowed down after I unlocked the door, closing and locking it behind me. I laid the envelope reverently on the coffee table and dashed into my room to change.

I put on my most comfortable pair of yoga pants and my favorite t-shirt. I poured another glass of wine, grabbed my hoodie and stepped out on to the balcony to smoke. I washed my hands when I came back in and changed into Dexter's sweatshirt. I sat on my couch with my legs folded under me, staring at my name in his rough handwriting.

Twenty minutes later, the envelope was in my lap and I traced my name over and over. I finally opened it and read through once, twice, three times, without crying. I carefully folded the letter and put it back into the envelope, then stored it in a box of keepsakes in my bedroom.

I walked into the kitchen and climbed on the counter, pulling down a bottle of Jack Daniels. I sat back on the couch before taking a swig directly from the bottle, and my chest felt like it cracked open when the first sob tore through me.


The letter is written. I'll be posting it as an outtake at some point in the future. I'm posting the Emmett sideshot/outtake/whatever that I wrote for the Haiti compilation some time after March 1.