Ahhhh . . . I'm late with this chapter, too, I know! I'm so busy these days.

This is more or less a fluff chapter, but it's still very important, and (I believe) still entertaining.

Disclaimer - I don't own the Twilight Saga. No copyright infringement is intended by the posting of this chapter.

Chapter Ten of Twenty-Nine

Bella's Point of View

The table was set, the food was ready, and I was excited. It had only been about two hours since Edward had dropped me off at my house with a quiet promise of returning. I'd felt his presence the entire time I was unpacking. It was intense. In fact, everything I was feeling for Edward was intense. But I hoped that tonight would rise the option for him to open up to me and explain everything that I'd overheard he and Carlisle discussing at the hospital during my not-sleeping hours.

The sun was already setting at that point of the day. Charlie worked at the station from six in the morning to twelve in the afternoon, and then he would come home until his second shift at three in the afternoon to seven at night. It had been something he'd taken to doing when he'd been given the title of Chief of Police. But, his later working hours meant that we had to eat dinner at a later hour. I'd told Edward to be at my house around quarter to eight. It was now seven thirty.

I was bouncing around the kitchen like a druggie.

"Bella, you'll scare the boy if you don't calm yourself down," Charlie teased from the living room. I heard the soft sounds of a baseball game floating out of the television.

"He'll be here soon, Dad," I said, ignoring his comment, "and are you even dressed?"

"What do you mean, am I even dressed?"

"Are you dressed nicely?" I asked, rounding the threshold of the kitchen and poking my head into the living room. "Aren't you going to change?" He was wearing a plain gray T-shirt with his old, ratty jeans and socks that had found religion.

I laughed inside my head at my mental joke – his socks were holey! – and crossed my arms. Charlie scuffed. "Just because you took an hour to pick out your outfit doesn't mean I'm gonna care about my appearance that much. That boy doesn't have to think I look good. He just has to know that I've got a gun and that I know how to use it."

I gasped. "You aren't going to do that cleaning your gun at the table when he walks in thing that dads do in movies, are you?"

My dad laughed, "Naw, Bells. I'd never embarrass you like that. But, you know, my weapon belt just happens to hang at the front entrance . . ."

I ran to the front door so fast I was probably a blur. I heard him laughing in the other room as I rushed past with his belt in hand and climbed the stairs. I threw open his bedroom door, gently placed the belt on his bed so I wouldn't accidentally shoot myself if I threw the gun and it went off, and descended the stairs at a slower pace. When I got to the bottom, my heart was pounding loud in my head, and I was gasping for breath.

"Nice show, Bella," Charlie commented, chuckling to himself.

"Thanks," I panted sarcastically. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of someone's headlights turn into our driveway and heard a car motor stutter to a stop. A car door slammed closed, and I panicked. "He's here, Dad! He's here, oh my God, he's here, get up! He's here! Dad!"

"I got it, I heard you," Charlie grumbled, pushing himself off of the couch and cracking his back.

There was a knock on the door. My heart fluttered. "He's –"

"Here," Charlie interrupted. "I got it. Are you getting the door, or am I?"

"I'll get it!" I squealed, but not loud enough for Edward to hear outside. I skipped to the door quietly, took a second to calm myself down, and threw the door open swiftly. There he was, leaning against the doorframe, smiling crookedly down at me. He was wearing the same gray sweatshirt he'd worn that morning to drop me off at my house, along with the same dark jeans and gray and black tennis shoes. His messy red-brown hair was even messier from him running his long fingers through it during our time apart. He curled his torso in so that he was hovering over me in the same protective way that he always had when I was in the hospital, bringing his face closer to mine by default. I smiled up at him. "Hey," I whispered, our hands meeting for the brief moment of bliss that always accompanied our skin-to-skin contact.

"Good evening," he greeted me. His eyes lifted to the space above my head, and he straightened. "Hello, Chief Swan."

"Edward," my dad greeted from behind me. I glanced back to see him standing in the doorway of the living room, arms crossed, stone-faced. "How nice of you to join us. Come in, please."

I looked back to Edward, grinning. "C'mon, dinner's ready."

He stepped into the house, sliding his coat off of his shoulders and stepping out of his shoes. I grabbed his coat as it fell off of his body and hung it on the coat rack next to the door, deliberately choosing the hook that Dad's belt had previously been hanging on. "The kitchen is through there," I said, pointing.

"Okay," he said, but stood there awkwardly, watching me. When I raised an eyebrow curiously, he stated, "Ladies first."

I laughed. "Okay."

Charlie was seated at his normal chair at the head of the table, his fork and knife in either hand. "Sit down right here, Edward," he ordered, nodding his head to the chair to his left. That left me to sit down to his right, across from Edward. Edward scooted his chair in with a soft screech, and I did the same.

The food was already sitting on the table in bowls, so all we had to do was dig in.

I watched Edward, waiting for him to make the first move. When he didn't, Charlie grew impatient and picked up the bowl of vegetables and dumped half of it on his plate.

"Dad," I scolded.

"Well, I'm not gonna wait around all night for dinner," he said matter-of-factly. "Go on, Edward, dig in. Let's go, we gotta eat so we can watch the game."

"I'm sure Edward doesn't want to watch baseball, Dad," I mumbled.

"Baseball is fine," Edward interjected.

I met his gaze, and he grinned crookedly at me. I smiled back as I scooped a spoonful of mashed potatoes onto my plate. During one of his visits in the hospital, he'd told me that he wasn't much of a sports fan. Maybe that was Edward's way of making a good impression on my father.

"Go on, Ed, the food's waiting for ya," Dad prompted. Edward still hadn't made a move.

I glanced up at him from my chicken and mashed potatoes. He was eyeing the food, glancing back and forth between all of the choices. His mouth was twisted up in a disgusted grimace.

My stomach turned. He didn't think my cooking looked good.

Normally, I wouldn't be bothered by someone not finding my food desirable. Something about Edward's rejection stabbed me in the gut in a way that I hadn't ever felt before. I felt the tears spring to my eyes unexpectedly, and I pushed back from the table. "I'll be right back, I have to use the ladies' room," I excused myself.

"Bells?" Charlie called, but his voice was muffled from the spoonful of potatoes he'd just shoved in.

"Bella?" Edward echoed him. I heard one of their chairs move, and knew right away that it wasn't Charlie. He wouldn't leave the table with his food still on his plate.

"Bella, what's wrong?" I heard Edward say behind me.

I didn't respond because the tears were running silently down my face and I didn't trust my voice not to waver. I climbed the stairs two at a time, gripping the railing to keep from tumbling back down. When I reached the bathroom, I locked the door behind me, but not quick enough to avoid glancing back to see Edward rapidly climbing the stairs behind me.

I sat down on the toilet, wiping my eyes as fast as I could so that I wouldn't be in the bathroom longer than necessary. But Edward was at the door already, knocking gently. "Bella? Is something wrong? Can you open the door?"

I shook my head, not caring that he couldn't see me. Or maybe he could – maybe he had X-Ray vision. After all, he wasn't normal; that much I knew.

"Bella?" he called. "Bella, please open the door. What's wrong? What did I do?"

I took a deep, shaky breath and responded, "I'll be right out, Edward. I'm fine, really." Why was I acting like such a baby? I'd made things before that Charlie took on his fishing trips and gotten news back that Billy Black hadn't really been a big fan. That opinion hadn't hurt me in the slightest. I didn't understand the sudden wounded feeling in my heart.

"Bella, I can hear your sobs," he choked, his voice slightly strained and weak. "Please, open the door. Let me comfort you. What's happened? Think of your safe haven!"

"It's not that, Edward," I answered. My mother was the last thing on my mind. "Please, just go down and . . . and . . ." Go down and eat the dinner that I prepared for you!

"Bella," he called again, desperate.

"Go away, Edward!" I yelled.

"Just let her be, Edward, she'll come around," I heard Charlie say softly from the bottom of the steps. Our bathroom was the first room at the top.

"Bella?" Edward asked. "I'll be downstairs, okay? I'll wait for you, and we can eat together."

"No we can't," I said, my brain's filter not working properly. "You don't want to eat what I made." I realized what I had said and slapped a hand over my mouth, gasping.

"What on earth are you talking about?" he asked through the door. "Bella, the dinner you prepared looks excellent."

"Stop lying," I demanded, figuring that I'd already brought up the topic so I might as well continued it. "I saw the way you looked at it."

He was silent for a moment. Then, "Bella, please open the door."

"No," I complained. "Just . . . go." I looked down at my fingers, twisting them around my shirt, and the tears began to slow.

"Do you want me to go home, love?"

I ignored his love because I was upset with him at that moment and I did not want his terms of endearment. "Just leave me alone!"

"Edward, she'll come out when she's ready," Charlie said. "Obviously one of us did something that her teenage girl mind deems unacceptable. Man, I hope it was you, because I can't escape her wrath like you can."

"Bella, I'm going downstairs," Edward said glumly.

I swallowed.

Ten minutes passed, at least, and I sat in the bathroom, trying to figure out what had happened to me. Why had I reacted so intensely to Edward's rejection? It wasn't even really a rejection. I'd never felt the hurt and disappointment that I'd felt in that moment before. I tried to understand what was making me feel this way about him, tried to sort out my feelings for him. I wanted answers. I wanted to know what he and his father were talking about in the hospital a few days ago. I wanted to know why I felt so attached to him. I wanted to know why it hurt me to be away from him. I needed answers, but I was too afraid to ask the questions that I needed to in order to get them.

Eventually, after about fifteen minutes had passed and I'd heard Edward climb the stairs twice and wait on the other side of the door for a minute before leaving again, I emerged from the bathroom and descended the stairs. Edward and Charlie were watching baseball in the living room. I didn't stop for chit-chat, for my stomach was growling and I wanted to eat the dinner I'd made. I went straight into the kitchen and picked up the bowls that hadn't been touched since I'd fled the scene. One by one, I put them in the microwave to heat them up.

Edward waited a few minutes before entering the kitchen with me. He sat down at the seat he'd previously occupied, and said nothing; he watched me.

I ignored him, heating up my well-prepared dinner for myself because I doubted he'd be eating it.

"Oh, man!" Charlie yelled at the game from the other room. I could picture him shooting up to his feet as the team made a bad move. "Edward, you just missed the worst inning I've ever seen them play!"

Edward chuckled. "That's a shame."

I shot him a sideways glance, but turned my head when he met my gaze. His face softened. "Bella, love, please talk to me. Tell me my mistake."

I shook my head, dishing out some food on a clean plate for myself. I was over it. I honestly didn't want to think about it anymore.

"Bella," he pressed.

I shook my head again.

"Please, sweetheart."

I didn't acknowledge him.

He stood up, making his way to the counter that I was leaning against. I felt his presence behind me before I saw his hands come to rest on either side of my hips on the counter; he caged me in.

"I wish you'd speak to me," he whispered next to my ear. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, love. Please, please bless me with the sound of your voice. I'm afraid I miss it terribly." I couldn't tell if he was being serious or extremely sarcastic.

He leaned his head down, trying to peak around to see my face, but I childishly turned my head. He chuckled. "Bella," he said, "are we having our first argument?"

I shrugged.

I felt his lips press against my temple. "Bella," he whispered. You'd have thought by now that I'd have gotten tired of hearing him say my name over and over, every few words, but every time he said it, I fought a smile. "Sweetheart, please, talk to me."

"I don't know what's happening," I whispered.

He leaned closer, encouraged by my verbal response. "What?"

"I feel . . . I feel . . ." I hesitated.

He kissed my cheek, and I felt his chest press against my back. "What do you feel?"

"Confused," I respond softly.

"What confuses you?"

I knew I was going to sound cheesy and cliché, but I spoke anyway. "The way you make me feel."

He smiled against my temple. "How do I make you feel?"

"I . . ." Just be honest, Bella. Maybe you'll get an explanation for everything that hasn't made sense. "I think . . . I mean . . . I don't like it when you leave," I admitted. "I miss you. And . . . you make me feel safe. And . . . I . . . I like you . . . a lot."

"Is that so?"

"Yes," I breathed. I was still standing with my back to him, but I was now leaning against his chest.

"Well, that's great, because I like you, too," he responded. "Now, do I get dinner, or did I already blow my chance?"

"You can have food," I allowed. Turning my head to meet his eyes, I watched him smile.

"Wonderful," he said.

The butterflies in my stomach returned, and I felt my anger drift away. I still wanted answers, but at least he ate my food.

…

"I'll pick you up for school tomorrow," Edward said as he slipped his coat on. We were standing in the dimly-lit hall in front of our front door after spending a wonderful evening together. Charlie had finally gone upstairs to give us some privacy, though I'd seen him peek down stairs multiple times to make sure we really had been just watching TV. We had watched random televisions shows, talked about the same old nothings that we had in the hospital, and – dare I say it? – we'd cuddled a little, although I'd never use that word around Edward.

I was at peace. I was happy.

I smiled up at him. "Great," I said, "what time?"

"Seven?"

"Okay," I agreed.

Our hands threated together in front of us, and Edward gave a gentle tug to pull me to his chest. His other arm wrapped around the small of my back while our hands remained connected. I pressed my face into his neck, breathing in his scent. I felt his lips press against my temple gently. I sighed. "Don't go," I whispered. "I'll miss you." We were beyond holding back our emotions by now. Within an hour, I'd become more open with Edward than I'd ever been with anyone in my entire life. It scared me, but thrilled me at the same time.

"I'll miss you, too," he responded. "I already do."

"Then don't go," I pressed. "You could . . . I don't know . . . hide under the kitchen sink until Charlie goes to sleep."

He laughed. "What would I wear to school tomorrow? And more importantly, how would I explain that to my family?"

"I don't know," I giggled.

His eyes flickered above my head, and the soft pathway his hand had been drawing on my back stopped. "I should go," he said. "Chief Swan is growing impatient with our goodbye."

I turned, throwing an irritated look at my father, who was standing at the bottom of the steps, watching us. "Dad," I scolded.

Charlie held his hands up, palms out, in an innocent gesture. "Just . . . observing."

"Go!" I yelled.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Bella," Edward said softly, but his eyes were sad.

I'm sure mine were, too. "Okay."

He opened the door, threw me one last glance, and then with a click, he was gone before I had time to smell the rain that was falling rapidly. I rushed to the window if the kitchen that overlooked the front yard. Peering out, I watched him get in his shiny silver Volvo and start the engine. His windshield wipers started up immediately as his lights flashed on. He backed out of our driveway, slowly, and sped off.

I missed his presence immediately.

"I'm going to bed, Dad," I mumbled as I passed him. He'd already reclaimed his spot on the couch in the living room.

He glanced at the clock. "It's only ten o'clock, Bells."

"Yeah, well, I've gotta get up early for school tomorrow, so I wanna be well rested."

He raised an eyebrow. "Or, you wanna get your beauty sleep for when you see Edward tomorrow."

I shrugged, smirking, and shot up the stairs.

…..

When I woke in the morning, I sat up and stretched, groaning a little at the feeling. I tilted my head to the side to crack my neck, and before I stood to go to the bathroom, I looked down at my pillow.

My heart sunk. There were a few clumps of my own hair lying where my head had been two seconds ago. More than two or three strands. I gasped, my hand going straight to my head.

I flew to the bathroom faster than I had ever moved before, grabbing a handheld mirror and spinning around to check out the back of my head. I synchronized my hair, looking for any bald spots that had appeared. There were none, but a new fear had set in.

It's just a small thinning, I told myself. Dr. Cullen said it would happen, but it won't be noticeable. It's not noticeable. No one can tell.

But my heartbeat wouldn't slow. I wouldn't calm down.

Aww, Edward's so clueless . . . what did you think? Did you think Bella was acting too childishly? Do you think she's getting closer to figuring out his secret? Let me know! This chapter was real in-site to what's going to happen in the future – foreshadowing, and what not. Edward and Bella's relationship is going to be a very confusing one, I'll tell ya that.

As I said before, this was a fluff chapter, except for the ending. Hopefully this was still entertaining for you.