A/N: So sorry for the delay in updating! It's been a very hectic couple of months. Enjoy and review!

My face grew hot in humiliation as I dropped my head into my hands. "I am so sorry, Esme." My voice sounded garbled against my palms.

She laughed. It was a very pleasant sound. "No need to apologize. I did not raise Edward to be rude, so I am certainly surprised."

I lifted my head up but refused to look her in the eye. I focused on studying the patterns in the carpet. "I'm sure he wasn't rude. I probably just took it the wrong way. After all, I was imagining things before I even ran into him." My words ran together as I panicked. "You know, I am terrible at first impressions. I seem to be offending every new person I meet."

"Please, Bella," she urged with a smile. "I am most definitely not offended. I am rather amused actually."

Her maternal smile didn't calm my nerves like I knew it would for most other people. Instead, I felt silly in comparison. I couldn't for the life of me seem to get a grip on myself long enough to seem normal. I had never felt that I fit in anywhere. But now, I felt more like an outsider than ever.

Esme cleared her throat as if she could tell my mind had wandered. "You said you were imagining things before you had your encounter with my son."

I sighed and continued staring at the carpet. "I saw my ex-boyfriend."

"Why do you suppose that is?"

"I guess . . . I'm living my worst nightmare." I stood up and walked around the room, taking in the artwork on the walls. One, in particular, was a painting of a courtyard with the sun beating down on the cobblestone with tall, castle-like structures enclosing it. One of the structures was an elaborate clock tower.

"Is he someone you're afraid of?" Esme asked.

"Yes." My voice was almost a whisper. I found myself begin to slip into a very familiar depression. The feeling was a sense of overwhelming hopelessness and dread. I realized I wasn't ready to talk about any of this.

I continued to divert my attention to the painting. The details were incredible. The beams of light from the sun reflected off of the bricks that made up the buildings. The flowers in the courtyard could be mistaken as photographs if it weren't for the grainy canvas. I reached up to touch the edge of the picture, imagining myself there. "This is a beautiful painting," I commented, changing the subject.

"My husband lived in Italy for a time." I jumped as her voice came from directly behind me. I hadn't heard her move from her seat. "This was the courtyard near his home. He painted this a few years ago. It's one of my favorites."

"He's very talented," I mumbled.

"Do you paint?"

I snorted and turned away from the artwork. "No. My mother does, but I've never been very creative."

"Everyone has creativity inside them, Bella. You just have to find the best way for you to express it." Esme sat back down in her chair and crossed one leg over the other. She placed her hands elegantly on one knee.

I didn't respond. I wasn't entirely sure what I could say to that. I guess I hadn't particularly tried all that hard to express myself in any form. I knew for a fact that I couldn't draw or paint. I didn't have the patience to learn how to play any instruments aside from the recorder in the fourth grade, and that was mandatory.

"What do you do for fun, Bella?"

I returned to my original spot on the sofa. Truthfully, I couldn't even remember the last time I had done anything that I found fun. In fact, I couldn't remember the last time that I had simply done something because I wanted to. "Nothing," I finally answered.

Esme didn't appear to be surprised by my response. "Nothing?"

"Well, I read. Or used to. Before everything." Allyn and I both used to enjoy reading. We would trade books often and compare notes. Once things got bad, I didn't find the solace in it the way that I used to.

"Maybe you should try again." The tone of her voice suggested that it was more of an order, almost as if she were telling me that this was my homework assignment.

I nodded, not wanting to argue with her. "I think you're right."

Esme leaned forward a bit. "Listen, Bella," she began. "I don't know anything about you, but you remind me quite a bit of myself. I promise you, it will get better. It just takes time."

I nodded and looked away, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and embarrassed. I didn't want to think of myself as a hopeless case, but I believed that's exactly what I had turned into. After everything, maybe I'm just unfixable.

My eyes began to burn and I could feel the tears welling up. I sucked in a sharp breath before speaking again. "I'm sorry I'm not opening up. I'm trying . . . I thought I was ready to talk. But I guess I was wrong."

"I understand. There is no need to apologize. We can take as long as you need." She flashed me a brilliant smile, revealing her sparkling white teeth. I suddenly didn't feel so terrible anymore. "However, there is a bookstore about ten minutes up the road. Take a left out of the parking lot and drive a few miles, then you'll see it on the right. I think you'll find what you're looking for there."

Although I was technically supposed to be taking it easy, I didn't think Esme's suggestion would be pushing it. I agreed with her, even if I didn't necessarily want to vocalize it.

In silence, she followed me to the front door and opened it for me. The freezing cold air hit me and I shivered in response. Esme was unfazed. Given what she was wearing, I was surprised. Maybe she was just used to the cold. I guess since I had come from Phoenix, I couldn't handle it as well as everyone else who lived here.

"If you're up for it, I'd like to schedule another session with you. Perhaps next Friday, same time?" she said.

"Sure." I pulled my collar closer to my chin and attempted to smile.

"Wonderful. You can tell me all about the book you've chosen to read."

I smiled without meaning to. I had actually surprised myself since it was completely genuine. It was the first time I had smiled without it being forced or as a response to "are you okay?". Maybe there was hope for me here after all.

As I began to walk away, I noticed that the silver Volvo was gone. In its place was a green Toyota with a woman who couldn't have been any older than me climbing out of the driver's side.

She was petite with very curly and dark brown hair. As she walked up to the front door, I could tell she had been crying. Her eyes were swollen and the tip of her nose was red. She wiped her face once she reached Esme who was still holding open the door.

"Come on in, Jessica," she said. Esme looked heartbroken. I wondered what Jessica's story was and if it was similar to mine. Given that she seemed as if she had been crying for days, I could only assume that it was something serious and not just some schoolgirl heartbreak.

I felt a pang of worry for the girl as I climbed into my truck. Although I didn't personally open up to Esme, I had a feeling Jessica was in the best possible hands.

I turned out of the parking lot, carefully avoiding the icy spots on the road as I followed Esme's directions. After a few minutes, I came across a sign that read "Salvation Station Bookstore" on the right. It was very small and resembled a house more than a bookstore. If it weren't for the sign, I never would have known that this is the place Esme was referring to.

As I pulled into a parking space close to the front door, I caught a glimpse of the Volvo I had seen at Esme's office. Given that not many people drove fancy cars in this town, I knew it had to be the same person.

Cautiously, I stepped out of my truck, glaring at the ice on the pavement. The stairs that led up to the red front door seemed more of a death trap than an entrance. I gripped the rail as if my life depended on it as I climbed each step.

Thankfully I made it up to the door without incident and entered. Behind a mahogany desk was a very angry looking blonde girl. She was my age with emerald green eyes and her long hair resembled corn-silk. Something about her told me that she was an unfriendly person.

She let out a long, exasperated sigh. "Let me know if you need help finding anything," she snapped in a nasally voice. Taken aback by her hostility, I pretended I didn't hear her.

I walked up and down each aisle, unsure of what I was even looking for. The books were all fairly dusty and tattered. I wondered how long it had been since someone had even bought anything here.

As I glanced around the corner and spotted the blonde girl glaring at me from the desk at the front, it occurred to me why most people probably don't buy anything from this place. Frankly, if I had known I would have to be in the same room with such someone who projected so much negativity, I would have just gone home.

I continued down the last aisle, preparing to give up. But once I reached the last shelf, a very familiar book caught my attention.

It was Wuthering Heights, which was my favorite. Before Allyn, I would sit down and read it every Christmas in front of the fireplace. I was always so enraptured by Cathy and Heathcliff's story. It was my escape. But now, I worried that a romance wouldn't help me as much as it used to.

Deciding it was worth a try, I took the book in my hands. Oddly enough, it was the only book I had seen that wasn't covered in dust or looked as if it were about to fall apart. Maybe it was a sign.

I checked out with the unpleasant girl at the front desk whose name tag revealed that her name was Lauren. She said nothing to me, and I certainly didn't make an effort to say anything to her. After giving me my change, I hurried out into the cold, glad to be free of her fishy-eyed glare.

In my haste, I had forgotten about the ice covering the steps. My feet flew out from underneath me and I hurdled face-first towards the concrete.

A beige blur appeared in front of me, grabbing my waist just before I hit the sidewalk. I gasped as the breath was knocked out of me. This was now the second time I had been rescued from falling flat on my face. My cheeks grew hot before I had even been steadied by the person who had caught me.

I didn't want to open my eyes and face the embarrassment. I let out a long sigh, waiting for my heart rate to return to normal. "I'm so sorry. Thank you," I finally said.

"Are you alright?"

My eyes snapped open. There was no mistaking that voice. I was now face-to-face with Edward once again. I let out a curt laugh. "Yeah. I'm fine," I snapped.

I whipped around to get into my truck and hoped he didn't have anything further to say. He was the second to last person that I wanted to see right now.

"You dropped your book." His tone was much more gentle than the first time I had spoken with him. It seemed almost out of character given how our first conversation had turned out.

I contemplated just leaving without my purchase so I could avoid truly having to face him. Before I could really react, he was in front of me with his arm outstretched, clutching my now damp book.

He was wearing a white sweater with a beige, leather jacket. His tousled bronze hair was still perfect, despite the snow that was falling hard on top of us. I probably looked like a wet rat in comparison to him.

"Thanks," I breathed, taking the book from him. He was much more muscular than I remembered. Then again, I was in such a panic that I must not have paid as much attention. If anything, he was even more beautiful.

"Good choice," Edward said as he cracked a crooked smile.

Anything I was currently thinking seemed to escape me. It was as if my mind had been wiped clean. I blinked. "What?"

"The book." He laughed quietly. "Wuthering Heights. Good choice."

"Oh," was all I could manage. Edward held my gaze, and for some reason, I couldn't find the will to look away. I had a familiar urge to reach up and place my hand on his cheek, but luckily I was frozen.

"You're looking better," he commented, breaking the awkward silence. I had no idea how long it had even been since either one of us had said anything.

"Yeah, I guess." My tone was still dazed. I forced myself to snap out of it. He had to have thought I was an absolute lunatic the first time I had met him. Maybe now was the time to try and make a better impression. "I feel better."

"I'm glad to hear that." Edward's topaz eyes glistened. I could tell that he was being genuine. A part of me was curious as to why he was being so nice, given how hostile he seemed when he met me as I was leaving the hospital. Not to mention I still hadn't forgotten the sinister snarl I remembered from when I was first admitted in my deoxygenated state.

Fear bubbled up inside of me, recalling the sound of the growl and the curl of his lips. The look in those onyx eyes would more than likely haunt me for the rest of my life. The Edward that was in front of me was so different. I was starting to question whether or not I had imagined the whole thing.

Not knowing what else to say, I proceeded towards the driver's side of my truck.

"Wait, Bella," he said, stopping me after I had gotten one foot up onto the floorboard. I tried my best to hide my surprise as I turned to look at him again.

"Yes?"

Edward looked down at his feet before facing me, like he wasn't sure how to say what he was thinking. "I just wanted to apologize."

I shrugged dismissively. I had no desire to relive what he was apologizing for. "No problem. It was a misunderstanding."

"I'm serious," he said, his eyes pleading. "I don't know what came over me. I am incredibly sorry if I offended you in any way."

I wasn't sure why, but the expression on his face was tortured. His perfectly chiseled jaw was clenched as his eyes bore into mine. I suddenly felt weak in the knees. I tightened my grip on the door of my truck. "You're forgiven."

I didn't feel the hatred that I had once felt about Edward. Of course, he was a physically a symbol of perfection and I was far from that, but I was beginning to get the impression that he and I weren't so different.

"Thank you," he sighed as I hopped into my truck and started the engine. He sounded very relieved, and I had to admit that I was as well. I had clearly misjudged him.

I nodded, trying my best to give him a convincing smile. "Be careful getting home, Bella," he finally said.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away. His head was slightly cocked to the side as if he were listening for something. I peered after him through the sheen of the snow as he got into the silver Volvo. He sped off as if the ice was non-existent.

"Of course he drives the shiny Volvo," I mumbled to myself. I buckled my seatbelt and adjusted my rear-view mirror. I was nearly astonished when I caught a glimpse of my reflection.

I was smiling.