A/N: I'm updating a day early. If you want to know why, check out the A/N at the end of the chapter. If you don't really care why and just want to get to it, read on. :)

There is another FAQ section at the end of this chapter. I know some of you appreciate it while some of you hate it. Again, ignore it if you're not interested. :)

Lots of strong feelings are being brought out by this story. I'm glad its making you all think. Just remember, there's still a lot of the story we don't know. :)

Enough with the smiley faces.

Michelle Renker Rhodes is my beta chickie.

All characters belong to S. Meyer.


Chapter 8 – Reality

Then:

Sunday morning, I wake up with my head resting over Edward's chest and find him gazing down at me.

"Good morning, sleepy head."

It's the same way he greeted me yesterday morning, and I can see myself waking to this greeting forever. His voice is rough with sleep, but his eyes are tender; gentle. I think I see something in them – something I've never seen before when a bloke has looked at me. It reminds me of the way my dad used to look at my mum.

"What time is it, then?"

He chuckles. "I love…the way you talk; not just your accent or the way you phrase things, but all the expression in your face."

My heart thumps because for a moment I thought he was going to say something else. But this is close enough.

"You're quite mad," I say, hiding my flushed face against his smooth chest because I'm positive he can read me like a book.

"You're quite mad," he mimics, placing his hands under my arms and lifting me to him.

"I love…the way you talk too," I smile.

He grins and kisses me thoroughly and makes me forget and want him though I've just barely opened my eyes. I wrap my hands round his face and hold onto him tightly as he sits up under me, and we moan and groan and kiss while his hands roam up and down my back, dipping into every groove, tracing my spine. We've made love six times already – I've been counting – and every time it gets better and better. I accommodate him better; I'm more comfortable with him and with myself. I'm learning the ways he likes to move and the ways he likes me to move; I've become braver.

"I don't know what I'm going to do with myself for the next half year," I murmur while he sucks my earlobe into his mouth.

"Neither do I. You're like a drug I can't get enough of," he murmurs back in my ear, making me shiver. "Bella…my Bella…"

His erection presses into my stomach, and he reaches sideways towards the nightstand, taking me with him as he grabs the box he's left over it. With quick and eager hands he puts a condom on and lifts my hips, sliding himself inside. We watch each other as I move over him, as our breaths come out raggedly. Our gazes are locked on one another even as the heat spreads all over my body. I cry out first, he follows soon behind.

"What time do you have to leave?" I ask him as I rest over him once more. I feel as if I've been in this exact position for days and I know I can stay this way indefinitely.

"In a couple of hours."

The atmosphere changes; it's as if reality is settling in, and we both realize at the same time that we can't remain in this little cocoon we've created for ourselves forever.

"There are a few things we need to do. You've got to give me your phone number, I need to program my number into your phone, and…there are a couple of things we need to talk about." He sounds nervous all of a sudden, which is strange because he hasn't seemed nervous once all weekend.

I nod slowly; every word he speaks reminds me of the impending separation I haven't allowed myself to think of all weekend. My chest tightens.

"And I need your last name, Bella." His voice is more playful now.

"What? We've made love about a hundred times in the past couple of days, and you still don't know my last name? That's dreadful," I tease him back, "and doesn't really speak well for either one of us."

I hear him chuckle, and the next thing I know, I'm pinned down against the mattress and Edward is over me, holding my arms up over my head.

"About a hundred times, huh? Bella, if that were the case, you wouldn't be able to walk for weeks. And your last name isn't exactly info I can gather through osmosis. Come on, let's go take a shower and by the time we get out, you'd better tell me your last name before I have to start looking through your things."

We laugh together, and his eyes sparkle, and as I gaze into them I try to store this memory to keep me warm over the next few months.

I giggle heartily. "We'll see about that."

He growls loudly and quickly lowers his jaw to my neck and collar and proceeds to tickle me thoroughly. I'm laughing so hard I can barely breathe.

A mobile vibrates and I look to see if it's mine, but my phone is still and quiet over the nightstand. Rose has given up on me, I believe. Edward gets up and retrieves his trousers from the floor. His mouth forms a tight line and he rigidly shoves his mobile back in his trouser pocket.

It's vibrated a few times overnight, but he's either completely ignored it or simply shoved it back in his pocket.

I sit up over the bed, wrapping myself in the soft white sheets. "Edward, who keeps calling you?"

He runs a hand through his short hair. I get the feeling this is a habit of his.

With a sigh, he looks up at me. "It's my father. It's driving him crazy not having any idea where I am."

"Why don't you tell him?"

He sits at the edge of the bed, his clothing bundled in hand, and when he looks at me, his features are hard.

"He wouldn't understand this. He'd never accept that this is what I want."

I grip the sheet tighter. "Are you sure that this is what you want?"

His nostrils flare. "Yes. Aren't you?"

"Yes," I say quickly, "Of course I am."

Still, there's so much I want to ask - like why his father needs to accept what he wants, and why would this be so wrong to him? How does this affect any other plans his father might have for him?

Expression still grim, he says, "Bella…there are…things…I have to tell you…"

His face abruptly changes; softens, and he takes me by the hand and guides me off the bed.

"But first things first."

"Edward, I'm naked!" I squeal, dragging the sheet with me.

"We're going in the shower. You're supposed to be," he smirks, right before picking me up and cradling me in his arms, running us towards the bathroom while laughter follows.

In the bathroom, he unwinds the sheets from me as we touch and kiss, and I know where this is leading; where everything has led this weekend - and it's perfect. It's more than sex. I never imagined it could be this way. Edward's hands get lost in my hair, and then they're on my hips, and his mouth curves around my shoulder and everywhere.

"Tell me nothing else matters, Bella. Tell me it'll always be this way."

His voice is pleading, his mouth and hands demanding.

"It will always be this way, Edward," I promise him. "Always…"

He reaches out and turns on the shower, and we move towards it-

-and from his haphazardly thrown trousers on the floor comes another vibration, another call.

Edward sighs heavily. "Hold on a sec. It might be Emmett this time. I called him before to…"

The expression on his face when he looks at his mobile this time is completely different from what has appeared every other time this weekend. For one second, he looks utterly horrified, as if he's just been caught committing a capital crime. His mouth forms a tight line, but when he looks up at me, his face has gone blank.

"I've got to take this."

"Okay."

I walk into the shower, a bit bewildered, but the water is warm on my skin, and I'm still on a high from Edward's touch. When five minutes turn to ten and Edward hasn't returned, I finish soaping myself up, rinse the shampoo and conditioner out of my hair and wrap myself in a towel.

When I step out of the bathroom, Edward is sitting on the bed with his back to me, shoulders stiff and rigid. I approach him quietly and in a brave moment discard the towel and slink up behind him on the bed. I lay a hand on his shoulder and kiss the nape of his neck, but when he turns around my heart drops to my feet.

He gazes at me through cold, unfamiliar eyes – and then simply turns back around.

All at once I'm both terrified and mortified. I jerk back, dropping my hand from his shoulder and wrap the wet towel round me once more.

"Edward? What's wrong?"

He doesn't answer straight away. In fact, we simply sit there, with me kneeling behind him and his back to me for about a full five minutes before he sighs heavily. All the while, my heart is hammering against my chest.

"Bella…there's something I have to tell you." His voice is cool and clinical, lacking any of the warmth that's been there over the past couple of days.

"Alright," I prompt when he's quiet again.

"I'm…engaged."

It takes me a couple of minutes to actually register the words, and when I do I find myself wondering if they mean something different in American English than what they do in British English.

"Her name is Tanya," he finally continues, his back still to me as he speaks. "Tanya Martin. We've been dating since right before I joined the military. Her father…her father is Senator Aro Martin. I'm not sure if you've heard of him."

He pauses, and it feels as if he's giving me time to absorb what he's saying, and I try, I really do, but my head is suddenly spinning.

"Anyway, our families have been friends for decades. Senator Martin is running for President in the next election. Everyone expects him to win; he's a sure bet, you can say. Politically, it's a great move."

I feel completely lost; bewildered. I don't understand why he's telling me about this Senator Martin's political ambitions. Why would I give a bloody fuck?

But then it slams into me – hard - like a bus I never saw coming.

He's not telling me that politically it would be a great move for the senator – but that his relationship with this Tanya is a great move for him, because of who her father is, because of what he wants.

All at once, the hammering in my chest stops, quickly replaced by a dull, painful ache that radiates like a red, glowing light. I feel as if I may vomit, but I force down the bile at the base of my throat and grip the towel tighter to me.

"What…what are you going to do?"

Finally, finally he whips his head around and looks at me, but the eyes that meet mine are dark and narrowed and foreign – and so different from before.

"Bella…it's just not that simple…"

I have no idea how to respond except to stare at him, embarrassed and scared and ashamed because all of a sudden he looks like a stranger, and I'm in nothing but a towel.

I force myself to speak. "Well…"- I swallow - "How are you going to tell her about us?"

He holds my gaze. "Bella, Tanya is…Tanya and I…" – Abruptly, he simply looks defeated, nothing at all like the strong, confident man I met just two days ago. His shoulders slump heavily. – "I made her a promise and I can't…" – he tries to grip his short hair – "I have responsibilities that I can't go back on. This is more than just about myself or about what I may want."

"You made me promises too." The words tumble out in a whisper.

He closes his eyes, shaking his head.

Stupidly, I try once more, because I know I must be misunderstanding him. "You said…you just told me…you just asked me if it would always…"

When he opens his eyes, I can't understand how I ever ended up here, in this swanky hotel suite with him. As I stare at his blank, unflinching expression, there is nothing in him that I recognize. He's a complete stranger.

I gasp loudly, feeling as if my lungs, my heart, every organ is about to collapse and the only thing I know at that moment is that I don't want it to happen here, not in front of this perfect stranger. Edward's eyes widen. The blankness disappears and he suddenly looks horrified, but I'm already in action. I whip around to where my clothes are lying in a pile on the floor and hastily throw on my denims and my t-shirt, holding my knickers and bra in my hand.

"Bella, wait, please. Just…just calm down for a second so we can..."

He keeps talking, but blood pounds so heavily between my ears that his voice sounds muffled and far away and I can't and don't want to hear what he's saying.

"Bella, I…" – he runs his hand through his hair again, wrapped in the bed sheets while I search the room frantically for my jacket and bag. When I find them, I throw on the jacket and shove my underwear in the bag, swinging it over my shoulder. All the while he follows me, wrapped in the sheets we made love on just a short while ago.

"Bella!" he bellows.

I stop.

I stop and look at him. He's standing just a couple of inches from me, chest heaving, eyes wild. I wait and wait, yet he says nothing, merely stands there looking so bloody sorry.

With my eyes locked on his, I reach for the dog tags that are still hanging from my neck and throw them back in his face. His head whips to the side and the I.D. tags land on the floor with a muffled thump. When he looks down at me once again, that look of apology is still in his eyes.

I don't want his pity. I don't want his apology. I will never want either from him.

"Bella…Bella I l-"

Tears sting my eyes. "Go to bloody hell, you sodding wanker," I hiss shakily.

Then I turn around and run through the suite, towards the door.

"Bella, wait! Damn it, where are my clothes? Bella, wait! Please! Just let me find my- FUCK, WHERE'RE MY CLOTHES?" he roars.

I don't wait to hear the rest. The lift is there already, and I get on. It goes straight down to the lobby where I break into a sprint and lose myself in St. James Park. When I finally manage to find my way out, I take the tube back home.

Back to reality.


A/N: Hold on, let me get on my thickest set of armor yet before I ask for your thoughts. Okay, got it.

Thoughts?

So I updated today instead of tomorrow because a) Tomorrow is Good Friday and I feel as if I shouldn't update on Good Friday; b) Saturday is my little Zombie Apocalypse prophet's birthday so I'll be too busy to update then; and c) Sunday is Easter Sunday and I'll be busy then too.

So here you go, one day early. Don't know if I should say "you're welcome," or "I'm sorry."

Another quick FAQ Session:

Q: Why did Bella make such a derogatory comment regarding "everyday" women?

A: Bella was NOT trying to diss the "everyday" woman with her comment. Edward had just insulted her and implied that she couldn't reach the top on her own merit. She was simply trying to tell him that wherever she ended up had nothing to do with him.

Q: How could Bella plan to expose the truth of their daughter in a magazine?

A: Bella made it very clear in Ch. 5 that she is NOT planning to expose the truth about their daughter in the magazine. That was NEVER her plan, as she tells Rosalie in Ch. 5, and reiterates more or less to Edward in this chapter. She tells him she's going to write an article based on her findings from the week they'll spend together, so she's NOT planning to write anything scathing in the article other than what goes on this week.

Q: How could Bella use her daughter as revenge towards Edward?

A: Okay, while at first, she wanted to tell Edward about their daughter to hurt his political ambitions, she clearly HASN'T been able to get herself to do that, though she's already had a couple of opportunities, and in the last chapter realized that Ellie is a blessing, not a punishment, and won't expose the truth about her to Edward as if she were 'retribution.' That's why she's decided to wait until after this coming week to tell him. I apologize if that wasn't clear.

Q: Why would Edward let Bella write the article about him on her terms?

A: I'll let you guys work out the first part of that answer on your own, but just want to remind you that he is a U.S. Congressman. Let's be honest, once he gets the courtesy copy Bella has promised him before it goes to print, if there's something in there he doesn't like, it's not getting published.

Alright, just wanted to clear up those 4 main comments that kept coming up. Thanks!

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