AN: So yeah, I'm diverging from canon a bit more on the pregnancy here. Also, thought I should include a warning about this chapter. Incubi are discussed in a little more depth. And well... that entails some sexual discussion.

…

I will willingly refrain from doing injury or wrong

and from acts of an amorous nature.

(Original Version of the Hippocratic Oath)

…

CHAPTER 11: DIFFERENCES AND PERVERSIONS

Aro jerked back from me, looking profoundly offended by my question. It was a horrible question to ask—especially now that Aro had explained just how vile the attractions of an incubus were. But I still couldn't quite tease out the difference between what Aro clearly saw as an abominable perversion, and his (apparently) pure-hearted crush on me.

Despite his affronted expression, Aro nonetheless deigned to answer. "I thought that would be obvious." He sounded perplexed and wounded by my insinuation that he might be exactly the same sort of beast. Or that I might agree with Carlisle. That I might think Aro was the incubus instead of Edward.

"Edward lusts after your body," Aro snapped with an appalled snarl. "Your personality is irrelevant to him," he added in a way that clearly insinuated that Edward saw the fact that I even had a personality to be an incredible nuisance.

Aro's venomous tone made me step back a bit. But his words didn't exactly shock me.

At least not at first.

I'd never quite understood what Edward liked about me, anyway. Whenever I'd pressed him for an answer he'd never been very specific. Which would make total sense if he hadn't really found anything interesting about me at all besides the fact that I was human, and his singer.

But after a moment of silence, I realized that Aro's declaration wasn't just an indictment against Edward. He also seemed to be implying that unlike my late husband, he did like me for more than my body. An insinuation that only served to bewilder me.

What on earth else could Aro be interested in? I puzzled. This was only our second time meeting each other!

"But you can't like me for my personality," I reminded him, taking another cautious step back. "You don't even know me."

As I wandered slowly backwards, comprehension suddenly replaced the injury and anger that had consumed Aro's aristocratic features. My remarks seemed to help him understand why I doubted his assertions.

Though it was equally obvious that he didn't agree with what I'd said.

His lips slowly curled into a small frown. "That is not… entirely true…" Aro tentatively began. "When Edward came to Volterra asking to die, he shared all of his thoughts with me. Thoughts that included all of his memories of the time he spent with you."

I wanted to slap my forehead at my utter stupidity. Of course.

Damn me for forgetting about his powers.

Again.

"Initially, seeing you through Edward's eyes was not very impressive," Aro admitted with a minute grimace. His gritted teeth and stiffened posture told me that the thoughts he had obtained from my husband were quite disturbing.

I winced as I too, pictured what I must have looked like through an incubus' eyes. Frail. Slow. Stupid. Hideous. And yet somehow alluring at the same time. I shuddered to think that Aro had seen me that way first.

"But when I met you a short time later…" Aro said with a much happier expression. His eyes lit up with visible awe as he recalled the experience. "You exceeded all of my expectations."

I made a better impression when he saw me in person? I found that hard to believe. Even when I'd been soaked in fountain water and my hair was mussed from running? Even when I'd been nervous and mumbling and completely out of my element? Was Edward's view of me really so bad that it was worse than that?

"I did?" I asked incredulously.

Aro nodded. "What Edward saw as a girl with an idiotic death wish, I saw as woman who was so compassionate that she was willing to set aside everything, even her own life, for those she loved," he offered as the first example of how our meeting changed his perspective on me.

My eyebrows rose halfway up my forehead. Aro really thought that? That my stupid habit of sacrificing myself was… er… noble somehow?

"Your power," he continued, "which Edward saw as a fluke at best, and as an infuriating obstacle at worst, I saw as a wonderful gift that hinted at an enigmatic character," he gave as a second example.

Although this time, Aro's words, while beautiful, were so oblique. I wasn't sure I was catching on.

Visibly confused, I repeated, "Enigmatic character?"

Aro paused in his praise and supplied another short nod. "You see, our gifts are extensions of our personality," he explained. "Jane's power is a manifestation of her sadistic disposition. Jasper's power comes from his innate charisma. And my power is a natural extension of my curiosity—that is, my desire to understand peoples' pasts and motivations," Aro supplied as three examples of that idea, deliberately choosing vampires I was familiar with to illustrate his point.

Edward had said something about that before, I internally acknowledged. That he'd always tried to "read people" while he was still human. And that part of him had been enhanced into a supernatural gift once he'd been bitten.

So Aro's deduction was starting to make sense.

But I still wasn't' sure what this had to do with me.

"Your gift," Aro continued in the same worshipful voice as before, "…the barrier that is on your thoughts, instantly intrigued me because it made me wonder what it is about you that makes you more guarded than the others," he shared, clasping his hands in front of his chest.

"The others?" I asked uncertainly.

"Almost everyone I touch is uncomfortable with the knowledge that I can gain all of their innermost, private thoughts," Aro informed me with an empathetic shiver. "I am very familiar with the terror that seizes most when they realize what my power is capable of. When they realize that ultimately, they can hide nothing from me."

I swallowed heavily, but nodded to convey that I understood. Even though I had nothing really worth hiding, the idea of anyone probing around in my innermost thoughts was about as exciting as the prospect of being impaled through the head with multiple knitting needles. Minds were private for a reason. And I couldn't imagine that there were many who felt otherwise. Especially those who did have something to hide…

"And yet, despite sufficient motivation, no one has been able to thwart my gift. Aside from you," Aro proceeded with a simultaneously bewildered and impressed tone. "Isn't that fascinating?"

My cheeks flushed red under Aro's effusive praise. I rubbed my scarred wrist in embarrassment. "Well, maybe I'm just a screw up," I mumbled, repeating what I'd told Edward. Maybe something was wrong with my head. Maybe that's why no one can affect it.

"I do not think so," Aro said, shaking his head. "I can read addled minds," he insisted. His hands unclasped to flutter in a discomfited pattern before they settled back into place again. Like the experiences he had gained from reading "addled minds" were particularly unpleasant.

"Besides, you do not exhibit any of the signs of mental deficiency," Aro assured me in a confident tone.

Good to know.

"Okay… so you thought… because vampire powers are related to personality, that mine must be…?" I trailed off, gesturing for him to finish the sentence. Because I had absolutely no clue what Aro thought a mental barrier would entail, character-wise.

"Protective," Aro answered. "Your power is not offensive, nor manipulative, nor invasive. Its only function is defense."

He'd said that last sentence with obvious satisfaction, like the fact that my powers didn't trespass on anyone else was a good thing.

But when I heard this, automatically my face fell.

"Isn't that… sorta lame?" I asked him, recalling what Alice had said in March about Aro preferring to collect formidable gifts for his arsenal. Defense, especially when it was just personal defense, sounded terribly un-useful.

Aro staunchly shook his head. "Not at all. Defense is a very honorable motive," he expressed in an admiring voice. "It shows that you have a remarkable humility and a deep respect for others' wishes."

A deep respect for others' wishes? That's what Aro likes about me? I didn't think it was anything extraordinary.

"That's just called being nice," I said with a sour frown.

"Ah if only that were true!" Aro exclaimed in a half-humored, half-lamenting voice. "Unfortunately, what you call 'being nice' is quite rare."

"Um. Alright," I weakly accepted, figuring that as a mind-reader, he probably knew better than I. "So you like that I'm nice? But doesn't that make me… well… gullible?" My missing husband had always thought so.

"Ah, ah, ah," Aro chided, waving a single chastising finger to suggest that I wasn't allowed to speak negatively about myself. "That is Edward speaking," the ancient vampire identified with distaste. "He might see you as naïve. Too quick to trust. Too quick to be convinced of another's virtues…"

Those were all things Edward had said, yes.

"But I say that you are actually quite reasonable," Aro countered with a warm smile. Then he rushed on to give examples before I could protest his reasoning. "You reserve judgment when you lack the proper information. And you see the best in everyone, despite their faults."

You truly are just as remarkably gracious about our kind as Carlisle said you were, I suddenly remembered Aro saying.

"You really are a marvel, Bella," Aro effused.

I was awestruck by his description. And the transcendently happy face which accompanied it.

This was how he really felt? Everything that Edward had complained about, he saw as a token in my favor? Everything that Edward had found unsettling or potentially appalling about me, Aro simply adored?

Logically I knew that there had to be some things about me that even Aro found vexing. My obtuseness was a fair guess. And my uncanny knack for finding my way into the worst of troubles probably also frustrated him. But at the same time, it was nice to have a definitive list of things that Aro liked about me. Edward had never given one.

And that had always bothered me.

"And after I'd had the incredible pleasure of meeting you, all of Edward's memories had new meaning," Aro continued, spreading his arms in a wide arc to visually demonstrate all the possibilities that had been opened to him. "Although the ungrateful fiend's perception of you was highly distracting, even through his vile eyes, I could see what he was missing." he said in a voice that suggested Edward was a fool for thinking my best feature was my body.

"During the months that we were apart, I played the memories over in my head a thousand times," Aro admitted with faraway eyes. "It was so wonderful to spend time with you," he gushed before his face fell and he softly sighed. "Even if it was from someone else's perspective."

I blinked in stupefaction as I realized what this meant. Every moment that Edward and I had spent together, Aro had effectively spent with me too. All of our dates. All the conversations we'd shared. Every time we'd lied in the meadow and said nothing at all. Every touch. Every kiss….

All of that was Aro's too.

My head reeled at the implications. But that would mean—

"At this time, I feel as though I know you just as well, if not more so than he did at that time," Aro revealed, saying aloud what I hadn't quite finished articulating in my head.

"I realize that my gift makes our knowledge of one another rather one-sided. And of course I do not expect you to reciprocate the depth of my feelings immediately," Aro stipulated with two raised palms, to show he would never presume to push me into anything before I was ready.

"Or even at all, if you find the idea completely untenable…" he allowed with a pained frown.

Though, it was clear to me that he desperately wanted something to work out between us, because he was already so invested in me as it was. For that to go completely unreciprocated would be… devastating.

And yet, he was still very conscientious of my desires. What I wanted was of paramount importance to him.

My heart jolted as I recognized this. Maybe I wasn't wrong before. Maybe the L-word wasn't premature, in this instance…

"But please do not misunderstand the nature of my affections," Aro begged me, his voice breaking with emotion.

Feeling immediately guilty for ever implying that Aro and Edward were similar, I immediately dipped my head and gave my sincerest apology. "I'm so sorry. I didn't understand before. But I think I get it now," I told him. "You care about me—the real me."

The prospect still felt totally insane. Aro, liking the real me?

But it was true.

And Aro nodded vigorously in confirmation of that fact.

I chewed my lower lip nervously before I asked, "So… what do you want me to do?"

"Whatever it is you wish, my dear," Aro permitted as he stooped into a deep bow in front of the large windows.

He'd meant the action as a gesture of affection and humility. But as I watched him straighten from the bow and press his palms together in a prayer-like position, I started to worry that Aro had the opposite kind of problem. That he saw me as some kind of virginal angel—something pure and incorruptible that he couldn't bear to defile.

Knowing that a healthy relationship required both emotional and physical attraction, I felt like I needed to clear something up. But the inquiry I wanted to make was so awkward.

Damn it, how do I get myself into these situations? I wondered with flaming cheeks.

I steeled myself for Aro's reaction by taking in a deep breath before I dropped my next proverbial bomb. "So… you like my personality. But, do you still find me… er… sexy…?"

A large lump passed through my throat after the words left my trembling lips. I expected the worst.

However, this time, to my surprise, Aro didn't look offended by my question at all. In fact, all that changed was that his eyes darkened—momentarily turning black with some unreadable emotion. Then he raked them over me hungrily in that 'checking-me-out' motion he'd done before.

"Absolutely," Aro purred in a voice that made the little hairs on the back of my neck tingle.

An electric shiver raced down my spine as I registered the obvious desire in his voice. Clearly, I wouldn't have to worry that Aro didn't want me in that manner.

"Though I should be clear that I am most interested in what you will become," he added after a moment, to make sure that I understood he wasn't all that enthused with my current human form.

I gaped. "Are you saying you think I'm ugly right now?"

"Heavens, no!" Aro exclaimed, distraught by the thought. "I am simply trying to articulate that I am not attracted to human flesh…" he trailed off, clearly not pleased with what had come out of his mouth.

"I find you very attractive already!" Aro maintained, seizing one of my hands and shaking it vigorously to demonstrate the depth of his passion. "And that is an excellent testament to your potential…."

Aro dropped my hand, stopped talking all of sudden, and made a frustrated noise, like he wasn't really finding the right words to get his point across.

Wait, he isn't attracted to human flesh, but he thinks I'm very attractive already? I was hopelessly confused.

"I'm not sure 'potential' is part of a healthy relationship," I warily contributed. Wasn't trying to change someone a bad sign?

"Potential is always a part of relationships, Bella," Aro contested.

Then his face suddenly lit up as he had an epiphany. "I presume you are not naïve enough to believe that the other men in your life, who have expressed romantic interest in you, were not at least a little excited by the potential they might discover beneath your clothing…" he drawled in a suddenly saucy voice.

My whole body flushed bright red.

He was right, but that was beside the point.

"So you're saying that to you… imagining me as a vampire is…"

I couldn't say it.

Luckily, I didn't have to.

"Akin to imagining you naked?" Aro finished for me with a devilish grin before he answered his own question. "Precisely."

Aro's last words made me feel like thousands of tiny flames were licking at every inch of my skin. The idea of Aro undressing me in his mind was too much. The images that idea conjured up were too steamy for my brain to function.

But Aro only made it worse as he continued. "Though the little 'preview' of your immortality that Alice supplied me with certainly helps," he said, his grin widening. "You really will be breathtaking."

Aro's eyes drifted heavenward and sparkled with delight, suggesting to me that he was now mentally undressing vampire-me in his head.

I started to feel faint from all the heat. Really all this (unwarranted) praise was flustering me. But I tried to focus anyway.

That's right. I remembered. Aro already knew what I would look like as a vampire. Alice had needed to prove that it would happen, since Edward couldn't bring himself to want to transform me. So she'd shown him my future.

And apparently, judging by the way Aro was gazing lovingly into the sky, my future self was really, really hot.

"And I must confess," Aro went on, his ruby eyes slowly drifting back to earth. "After Alice gifted me with that vision… well… I find it quite impossible to see you any other way," he admitted with a sheepish smile. "It is not so different from how you are now..." he offered as a sort of assurance that my human form was still pretty in his eyes.

One of my eyebrows raised skeptically at that last comment. "Really?"

"Truly," Aro insisted.

I shook my head in utter disbelief. "It can't be… I mean Edward always said that the 'me' he saw in Alice's vision was so different she was…" my face scrunched in displeasure, "…a completely different person."

Aro scoffed. "Of course an incubus would say that." he stated as if it were an observation as obvious as the weather. "In his eyes your immortal self is completely unappealing. As if someone were to replace you with a cold, stone gargoyle carved in your likeness." He let out a low snarl of distaste.

"From my perspective, however" Aro countered. "I see your human form as a blurry image, and your immortal self as the pristine photograph. You are the same person, just… a little visually enhanced," he elucidated, wiggling his fingers in the air around my form to demonstrate.

Oh. That made sense.

"And now that you've seen the 'pristine photograph' so to speak. It's easy to fill in the blanks of the blurry one?" I mused aloud, trying to reason out if that was why Aro saw me now as he did in Alice's vision. It guessed it wasn't too far of a stretch.

"Exactly," Aro confirmed with an enthusiastic grin. "I may not harbor any desire to sleep with you while you are mortal…" Aro confessed with a small cringe, as though the idea was slightly frightening.

I too stiffened as I tried to picture such a scenario from Aro's point of view. It would be like trying to have sex with a porcelain figurine. A porcelain figurine capable of feeling pain and full of squishy organs and chocolate syrup. My stomach churned at the thought and suddenly I felt a pang of sympathy for Aro. That would be awful.

"But you need not fear that I am not… physically interested…" Aro finished, reverently taking one of my hands in his once more, and smoothing his fingers over it delicately.

A brief silence ensued, during which Aro tenderly massaged my fingers. During the lapse into quiet, I dipped my head in shame for having asked a second unforgivably rude question.

Aro seemed to mistake my gesture as one of fear or avoidance. "I apologize if any of this has seemed inappropriate—" he started to say.

Immediately my head shot back up and I cut him off. "No. I appreciate your honesty."

And it was true. I did.

I just didn't know what to do with it.

After all, even if Aro possessed all of the right feelings to be a suitable boyfriend, I still had plenty of reservations about "courting" him, given our marked difference in age and our, perhaps insurmountable, differences in morals. He had thousands of years more education and experience—which meant that we could never be intellectual equals. And his rather blasé opinion of eating humans was something that I was unlikely to accept anytime soon.

At least, I hoped that was the case… Though my recent foray into the world of human blood drinking made me a lot more uncertain of that fact than I would have liked.

It sure was delicious…

And, of course, as I conveniently kept forgetting, legally, I was still married to Edward. And it just wouldn't be right to allow another to pursue me when that was the case.

I nervously twisted the enormous diamond finger on my left hand around a couple of times, trying to figure out what I should do now.

"You still look confused, dearest Bella," Aro observed, his words and his gentle hands tugging at mine, bringing me out of my thoughts. "Is there something else you would like to ask me, while we still have the privilege of Carlisle's absence?"

Oh that's right. Carlisle will be back from the hospital at some point, I remembered suddenly. And we probably shouldn't discuss anything about our feelings or about Edward being an incubus around him. At least, not for a while, I decided.

Carlisle deserved some rest from that discussion for at least a couple of days.

So I had to take advantage of this unique opportunity. Even if it had come to us because something horrifying was happening to my body that made Carlisle run off to the hospital to see if there was anything there that could "help".

Whatever was happening to me now—with the venom and the odd patches of cool, but not hard, skin that were popping up—I would have to worry about later. There was no use freaking out about it now, anyway. Aro and I had already came to the silent conclusion that there wasn't anything that could be done until we knew more. Which, I presumed was exactly what Carlisle was trying to do at this very moment.

And so, for now, I would focus on the plethora of unanswered questions I had from last night.

I shrugged limply and stared pensively out of the long windows. "I'm just not sure what I should do," I confessed.

"What is it that you wish to do?" Aro gently probed, continuing to delicately rub my wrist.

My teeth immediately set into my lower lip. It was a bad habit of mine. "I'm not sure," I mumbled.

Embarrassed, I looked towards the floor, because it wasn't true. I knew exactly what I wanted to do, I simply had no clue how to break the news to Aro.

"I… I think…" I started turning my diamond ring nervously around my finger again. "…based on what you've told me… and… my own experiences… I… I…" I trailed off uncertainly, looking everywhere but towards Aro.

I couldn't say it. It was too fast. It was wrong.

"Do not be afraid to tell me, Bella." Aro's dulcet tones tickled my ears as he floated closer. "I assure you, I can handle it," he revealed in a voice that was steeling itself for rejection.

Realizing that he'd gotten the wrong idea entirely, I abruptly stopped chewing on my lip. And ceased turning my ring around.

I needed to tell him the truth so that he would stop needlessly fretting. I wasn't about to abandon him now—not when he was basically my only life-line. No, what I was about to do was in some ways much worse, but in others much better. And Aro deserved to know the truth.

Audibly, I swallowed.

I took a deep breath.

And looked Aro dead in the eyes.

"I want to divorce Edward," I announced as definitively as I could.

Immediately Aro heaved an enormous sigh of relief. He'd obviously been expecting a rather different response. Probably one that included me telling him to get lost.

Once he'd composed himself, Aro remarked supportively, "Well that seems like a perfectly reasonable course of action."

"But is it really okay to throw in the towel so soon?" I protested, furious with myself for wanting to break it off at the first sign of struggle. "We promised each other forever!" I reminded the both of us.

Tears stung the corners of my eyes. Tears that grieved for the loss of eternal love with Edward's kinder doppelganger. Tears that started to run freely over my cheeks as I realized that the fairytale had never been real to begin with. That all of Edward's words and bargains had ultimately been self-serving and nothing else. That he'd never loved me the way that I had so fiercely loved him.

It was a horrible realization.

And I sobbed hysterically as the full weight of it started to rest on my shoulders.

But just as I was beginning to lose it, a lean, muscular pair of arms encircled me from behind and tugged me softly into a comforting embrace. As ten slender fingers fastened in front of my ballooning stomach, suddenly I stopped crying.

"There is no shame in leaving a toxic relationship," came Aro's feathery voice in my ear. "Edward is an incubus, after all," he finished as though that was plenty of justification in and of itself.

"But is that really that bad?" I prodded, sniffling away the last vestiges of tears. Sure, Edward had threatened to do some pretty unforgivable things. But he had never actually followed through… "I mean… what exactly has he… done?"

In all that I'd heard so far, this had never really been explicitly explained to me. And I figured that was an important bit of information. If I was still going to remain married to him—which seemed practically impossible at this point—I needed to know. And even if I wasn't going to stay with him, it would certainly help me make that decision.

Aro's face looked more ashen than usual. Like the answer to my question was particularly disturbing and he would rather not tell. His sudden trepidation only made me more curious.

"Was I… not the first?" I asked uneasily.

Had Edward lied to me about being a virgin? Edward had been very adamant about "no sex until marriage". But had that been just a ploy? A trick to get me to wait until we were somewhere where no one would hear me scream if Edward did screw up?

That was the only bad thing I could think of off the top of my head that I could imagine would be related to Edward being an incubus.

"He has not had sexual intercourse with any other humans, if that is your concern," Aro revealed. "He was not lying about his personal behavior and beliefs in that regard."

That was a relief.

"But has he had other human girlfriends?" I asked, partially curious and partially afraid of the answer I might hear.

Aro exhaled slowly, exasperated and sad. "Yes," he confirmed. "Though, until he met you, none ever lasted long," he finished in a grave tone.

I swallowed anxiously.

I didn't like the sound of that.

"Did he… kill them?" I choked out.

Aro frowned. "Not typically," he explained with a slow shake of his head. "Close proximity to humans, inevitably entails accidents…" he stipulated. "Especially when the humans a vampire keeps company with smell delectable, and said vampire is living on an insufficient diet," he added to make it clear that Edward's track record wasn't one-hundred-percent clean, though not conspicuously less so than any of the other Cullens.

"But the vast majority of them he simply became bored with."

I tried to ignore the fact that Aro had just glossed over a few human women's deaths as though they were inconsequential and focus on his last statement. My head tilted towards him in confusion. "Bored with?"

"Have you ever wondered why it is that Edward chose you?" Aro enquired completely out of the blue.

All the time, I thought.

"Because I'm his singer?" I suggested weakly.

"Partially." Aro stepped out of our hug and lifted a wavering hand to the level of his chest. "Your blood is a potent attractant. But that was not the only reason," he clarified.

"Edward's telepathy complicates things," Aro began to explain. "Because he is only interested in human flesh and not human personalities, being forced to listen to all of their inane thoughts as he interacts with them aggravates him," he expressed with clenched fists representing Edward's feelings.

"To be fair, listening to countless women praising your attractiveness can get unbearably dull quite quickly," he conceded with a snide chuckle. "But still. Even their most intelligent thoughts, he found vexing. Mostly because they distracted him from his fantasies," he spat like the word was poison in his mouth.

"You were, in his eyes, a godsend because your thoughts wouldn't get in the way," Aro presented as my husband's reasoning, a cold growl punctuating his words. "He could care less if your thoughts were airy and vapid. Or if you were Stephen Hawking on the inside."

"To him, you were the perfect solution," Aro went on. "Instead of living in perpetual frustration, never finding a woman he could tolerate long enough to fathom marrying her, he could imagine whatever his sick heart desired. And your only answer was silence."

The hair on the back of my neck stood up at how eerie that sounded. My only answer was silence. The way Aro had said it made it sound like intellectually I was dead to Edward. And that he liked it that way.

My heart lurched at the idea. It was deeply disturbing to think that what Edward appreciated most about me was the fact that he didn't have to listen to me. That he could completely disregard who I really was in favor of entertaining his lewd imagination.

Certainly Aro thought my power was interesting too. But if I were to trust his earlier words, he saw my "silent mind" as an incentive to get to know me better. Whereas Edward saw it as an invitation to never learn who I really was at all.

I swallowed again.

And my son, sensing my unease, wriggled uncomfortably in my stomach.

"If Edward's personal sexual mores were not so restrictive, perhaps he would have more options," Aro suggested hypothetically. "But since he wouldn't allow himself the pleasures of the flesh until marriage, it was imperative that he find a human he could stand," he explained, before taking one of my hands in his. "That is, a woman whose mind wouldn't make a peep."

"Okay, so what you're saying is I was his only option."

Aro swallowed heavily. "Yes," he agreed softly, drawing a small arc across my thumb with his. "And because of this, in just a short time, he became deeply attached to you," Aro said in a way sounded more like he was describing being trapped in quicksand than being in a relationship.

"Marcus proved it was not a healthy attachment. Like all mate-like bonds incubi form, his connection to you is fueled by lust and nothing else," Aro was sure to mention so that I didn't get the wrong idea. "But even so, if you were to perish…" Aro gulped again, obviously distraught by the concept. "…he would lose that."

Aro's words reminded me of what he'd said before over the phone when he'd believed I was dead. He was rather attached to her. Extremely so. Whatever will he do now? Aro had said then. This time, Aro also seemed to share some of the same sympathetic pain—to feel sorry for Edward in the hypothetical situation of my demise.

"But then… why leave?"

It was the one thing that still didn't make any sense. If I was Edward's only ticket to sexual fulfillment, then why abandon that?

"Most incubi and succubi are not so controlled or concerned with whether or not their victims die," came Aro's obvious observation. "Though, contrary to popular opinion, I do not know of a single one who intended to kill the human they became attached to from the outset," he told me in refutation of a common myth about such creatures. "It simply tends to be the unfortunate result, because of unequal strength, which inevitably causes injuries. And, of course, our natural inclination to drink human blood when it is spilled."

I shivered as I imagined some shadowy vampiric figure who was intimately entwined with a human woman accidentally grip her bare waist with such ferocity that the skin beneath the shadow's hand burst, issuing thick rivulets of blood onto the bedsheets. The woman in my mind screamed in agony. But the smell of the liquid distracted the shadowy vampire, who—being lost in their instincts in the heat of the moment—succumbed to their thirst in the confusion. I watched the vampire eagerly bury their teeth into the human woman's vulnerable neck before the vision faded to black.

Oblivious to my dark inner musings, Aro grimaced before he rehashed what I supposed he believed was Edward's only redeeming feature. "As I mentioned before, Edward is unique in his capacity to understand his limits. And the restraint he is capable of is unprecedented."

Instantly, I remembered Aro's words of astonishment in Volterra when he'd discovered that my blood sang to Edward. How can you stand so close to her like that? he'd asked, as though it was a herculean task to simply be close enough to touch me, and still resist the call to devour my blood. I certainly never thought to see Carlisle bested for self-control of all things, but you put him to shame, Aro had asserted.

And as crazy of a thing as that seemed like to say, Aro would know.

If he said Edward had more restraint than Carlisle, then Edward had more restraint than Carlisle.

It was that simple.

"Because he is so controlled, Edward is also rather patient for an incubus," Aro went on in reluctant praise. "When Jasper nearly killed you on your eighteenth birthday—Edward decided it was best to separate his family from you and take a different route with his attachment after a short period of absence," he informed me. "In his mind, it was obvious that an overt relationship wasn't going to work anymore. You would be in too much danger from the others."

I stiffened as I was reminded of that bleak phase of my life, when Edward pretended I hadn't mattered to him in order to protect me from potential future incidents with his family. Now, I more fully comprehended why he'd done it—it wasn't just my safety, but also his attachment that was on the line. But that didn't do anything to lessen the sting of those memories. If anything, it only made it worse.

"And as soon as the two of you started dating, you began to request that he make you immortal," Aro brought up as the other problem Edward had been eager to avoid. "Leaving would resolve both of those issues."

My head inclined in confusion. "How would…?"

But Aro had already anticipated my next question. "Do you recall his suggestion to you that you move on? That you seek a human lover and live a 'normal life'?" he asked in a smooth, tactfully sensitive voice.

Aro obviously knew that this period of my life was one which had brought me a great deal of despair, and wasn't keen on unnecessarily unearthing all of that. But nonetheless he believed it was imperative for me to understand Edward's crooked line of thinking.

I nodded glumly as I remembered.

But Edward hadn't understood—after meeting him, there was no way I could have any sort of life that could be considered normal. Not to mention that, at the time, he was my life.

"That is precisely what Edward hoped you would do, given enough time," Aro confirmed for me. "He always intended to return, alone, without any other vampires to potentially harm you, and hopefully after you'd settled down with someone human, so that you wouldn't keep pestering him to change you into something he found repulsive," he explained with a sorrowful shake of his head. Evidently it made him sad that Edward saw vampirism in such a negative manner.

"But then… he wouldn't be able to marry me…"

Aro cut me off. "You are correct. But he would rather settle for…" his face suddenly turned nauseated, "…touching himself while he watched you sleep, than give you up entirely."

My complexion immediately went green. "He was going to…? Sneak into my room and…?"

I was unwilling to say masturbated in front of Aro. He seemed like too much of a gentleman.

But thankfully Aro understood my implication and somberly nodded. "His personal beliefs would preclude him from touching you directly. However, he planned to hover over you and utilize his unfortunately vivid imagination."

I shivered again. Apparently consent was not a part of Edward's vocabulary. Though technical virgin apparently was.

"Of course… your attempted suicide was never part of the plan…"

"I wasn't trying to kill myself," I countered.

Which was true. Sure I'd been reckless, and pathetically desperate to see those odd flashes of Edward again. But death had never been my intent.

Aro raised a single black eyebrow in evidence of his skepticism. "As I understand it, you threw yourself off a cliff," he said as though that was an obvious example of suicidal intent.

Which… well, I could definitely see how it might look that way.

"I was just… doing it for the adrenaline…" I mumbled in embarrassment.

Aro smiled sheepishly as though he still didn't completely believe me, but decided to agree with my story for the sake of moving along. "Regardless… Edward misconstrued your intentions, and that brought you to me." He smirked a bit, as though that was the silver lining to this awful tale.

"And it brought him and I back together…" I hesitantly reminded him.

Aro pursed his lips, clearly frustrated by that portion of the story. "Yes," he curtly agreed.

"Edward decided that you were far too danger-prone to be safe in his absence," Aro remarked, resuming his story. "I suppose he must have calculated that even with his family near, you were in a lot less danger of dying than you were by yourself," he posited as his conjecture. His tone shifted to one of considerably less confidence, though, since he was now speaking of events that had happened after he had read Edward's mind.

"Plus, it gave him the obvious advantage of being back in your presence again. And in an overt relationship… which, like all people, he does rather prefer..."

As Aro trailed off, I gave a short nod to convey that I was following. All of Aro's claims were making sense so far.

But there was still one thing that didn't quite fit.

"So why did he leave me again?"

"I cannot say for certain, since I have not read his mind since he left Volterra," Aro admitted with a helpless shrug. "And to be perfectly candid, this most recent decision of his perplexes me more than anything."

Even Aro is confused about this. I thought, terrified by the prospect. And he is supposed to know everything.

Aro paused to consider the litany of possible desirable outcomes before he seemed to settle on one that could fit Edward's motivations. "I could imagine that he believes that his absence would prompt you to abort the child," he submitted in a pondering tone. "Did he suggest to you any alternatives before he left?"

My face distorted as I remembered that he had. Bad ones.

"…Yeah. A couple days before I called you he asked 'if it had to be his baby'. Like he thought there was some other option."

I certainly hadn't felt like there was.

"I told him I didn't want some stranger's kid. Or… Jacob's…"

I shuddered at the thought of being loaned out on weekends like some cheap rental movie in order to conceive a child that wasn't Edward's, like he'd suggested. It was another instance where Edward's complete disregard for our marital vows was evident. Surely he would never cheat on me because he was worried about his oh-so-precious soul. But apparently if I cheated on him to have a baby—if that was something I really wanted—that was perfectly acceptable.

What a hypocrite.

I scowled in disgust at the memory. "I tried to explain that I don't want some generic kid," I waved a single hand around in the air to suggest the concept of children generally—something that had never held much appeal. "But since this baby was ours… he's special to me."

I dropped the hand to my side in abrupt defeat. "Edward didn't understand."

Aro laced his fingers between mine and dourly shook his head for the third time. "He wouldn't. As an incubi, even his familial bonds are strained because of his innate disgust towards vampires. The only appreciation he has for the Cullens has grown as a result of many decades of companionship—a gradual buildup of tolerance," he explained as slowly and delicately as he could.

"For a vampire neither of you have even met to consume your heart so thoroughly already… it is inconceivable to him."

I blinked in shock as Aro's words began to sink in.

All of Edward's hateful words about my baby suddenly made sense. He had automatically assumed the infant was cruel and disgusting because that's how he perceived vampires in general. And without any personal experience to teach him otherwise—and certainly not decades of exposure—he couldn't imagine my little boy any other way.

"And you thought… you thought, even with all this, that it might be okay to not tell me?" I asked, as I recalled the other bit of momentous info that Aro had admitted last night. "To let me stay with him?"

Aro swallowed uneasily and fluidly disconnected our hands. "Initially no. I wanted to tell you right away," he revealed, his past urgency coloring his tone. "But I trusted Carlisle's judgment. And I rationalized to myself that I must be missing some part of the puzzle for Carlisle to praise Edward so highly," he confessed with a guilty bow of his head.

"And at the time, you appeared happy with Edward. Your reunion in Volterra was… very convincing…" he offered as his last excuse.

I recalled Aro's sorrowful word's from last night. I knew that Edward could never love her as potently as she deserved. It simply is impossible given his unfortunate condition. But if Isabella was truly happiest in that arrangement… then who was I to interfere?

"Eventually, I realized the notion of Edward being suitable for you in any fashion was ludicrous in the extreme," Aro continued with a sad chortle at his own naiveté. "But I realized this too late," he added, peering directly at the heavy diamond ring weighing on my left hand. The evidence that he was unable to prevent our disastrous union.

"To this day I deeply regret that mistake," Aro admitted with a heavy sigh. "I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me," he pleaded, cupping my wrist like it was china in his hands and dipping his head to place an icy kiss on the rim of my knuckles.

My fingers felt set ablaze by his wintry lips.

And at once I couldn't be mad at him for his decision anymore. His story had caused me to realize just how much Aro couldn't know. Even with his terrifyingly perceptive power, he was far from omniscient. Finally I was beginning to understand why he'd lamented that his gift was limited when I'd seen him in Volterra. Aro could only know what someone had been thinking or planning up until that moment that he read their thoughts. If they changed their mind without warning, after he'd touched them, he was just as unprepared for it as the rest of us.

Aro had simply been acting according to his best knowledge.

It wasn't his fault that his trusted friend Carlisle had a rather warped view of Edward.

Or that I'd idiotically thrown caution to the wind and had unprotected sex with a vampire. Twice.

"I don't blame you," I admitted at last.

This statement made Aro's whole visage light up and his eyes glow with admiration. Evidently he'd thought it likely that I would deem him to be at fault, and therefore declare him unworthy of my affections.

"And I… I did love Edward. So I am sort of glad that you didn't interfere," I confessed, surprised at how true the words felt—how much I'd appreciated the time we'd had together, despite how insidiously I'd been betrayed by Edward.

And how distinctly my love for him now felt… well… past tense.

As it should, a voice located somewhere in the recesses of my mind told me.

I paused for a moment before I continued to explain my feelings. "Even knowing all of this… I can't hate him."

Surprisingly, it was the truth. Hate wasn't something that I felt easily, anyway.

"I just feel… sorry for him," I said, my voice heavy with pity.

Aro had made it rather clear that being an incubus wasn't something that a vampire chose. And it seemed like an awful curse to be perpetually torn between wanting to bang and consume the same person. I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

"Is there any cure?" I probed hopefully.

"None that I am aware of," Aro informed me, his hands still soothingly wrapped around my wrist. "There are legends of succubi and incubi who have been cleansed by the power of 'pure love'," he said the term with a sickly sweetness, like it belonged in a childish fairytale and had absolutely no place in real life.

"But I cannot be sure whether those legends are merely wishful thinking on the part of mortals, or grounded in truth, as the myths about half-vampire children have been proven to be." He shrugged and his eyes whirled about the room as if to illustrate that there were a million possibilities.

It was clear that my unprecedented pregnancy had completely shaken his confidence in his ability to discern between myths which relayed accurate information, and those which were merely drivel.

"Nevertheless, in all of my many years I have never met one who has been able to alter their nature," he submitted as evidence in favor of the theory that this 'pure love' stuff was complete nonsense. "And I have met a fair number of such vampires during that time."

I nodded in acceptance of his words.

At the moment, I was more inclined to agree with Aro's millennia of observation than vague human assumptions. Unlike my pregnancy, incubi and succubi were something Aro had seen and interacted with on a reasonably frequent basis. So I trusted his assessments of their potential to be righted a lot more than some wishful, human theories.

Edward can't be fixed. I realized with a strange combination of resignation and hope. Resignation, because it was still an awful thing to come to terms with that I had unwittingly married a romantically deficient monster. But hope, because the fact that Edward would probably never be capable of loving me as I deserved was the perfect justification to move on and maybe try to find someone who did.

Maybe someone like the beautiful, caring, black-haired vampire standing beside me in front of the tall glass windows.

Yes, there were a thousand things that I knew about him right now that might cause a relationship between us to fail. And yes, I had promised myself to give Jacob a shot before anyone else, in the event that Edward and I were not meant to be. And yes, I still wore the enormous diamond ring Edward had given me—the ring that was starting to feel like a shackle more than anything.

But in that very moment, as I stood in the rays of the morning sun, with my hands in Aro's, and his eyes on mine, I came to a very important conclusion.

I wanted to give "us" a shot.

Even though I'd only known him for two days, during that time Aro had been so considerate of my feelings, so invested in my care, so enamored with my little baby boy, and most of all—so single-mindedly in pursuit of whatever would bring me the greatest measure of happiness—that I was already desperate to learn more about him. And despite the fact that he already knew me very well, I wanted to give him a chance. So that maybe, in some small way, I could make him happy the way that he made me happy.

And that's what a relationship was, wasn't it?

Just as I was about to relay this momentous information to Aro, however, the moment was ruined with the sudden interjection of a strange buzzing sound. It sounded like a bumblebee, only ten times angrier.

Bzzzzzzt! Bzzzzzt! Bzzzzzt!

It took me a moment to realize that it was the sound of a cell phone vibrating.

Once I realized this though, I immediately stepped back from Aro and started fishing through my pants pockets, to retrieve the incriminating device. But as my clumsy hands fumbled around, frantically searching every possible storage location on my person, so I could shut the damn thing off, I discovered, to my dismay, that all of my pockets were empty. My cell phone was nowhere to be found.

That's right. I left my cell phone back at Charlie's because I didn't want any distractions on my honeymoon, I remembered, settling my hands limply at my sides. And we couldn't retrieve it now because that would arouse too much suspicion.

So it wasn't my phone that was vibrating.

And yet the sound was much too loud, and the vibrations too close to my body, for the phone to belong to anyone else who might have left it behind. If it belonged to one of the Cullens it would be sitting on one of the kitchen countertops. Or be up in one of their rooms. But all senses indicated that it was right next to me. And the only person next to me was…

…Aro.

But it couldn't be Aro's cell phone, could it? I pondered, staring at the carpet in befuddlement.

Aside from the fact that I still wasn't used to the idea of the three-thousand-year old man operating such a modern device, I saw no reason why anyone should be trying to contact him right now. Based on his earlier, panicked response when we had called, I got the sense that he only shared his number with a tiny handful of people—probably most of them being the more tech-savvy members of the Volturi.

And Carlisle.

Wait… Was Carlisle calling to let us know that he'd found something out about my strange new condition? I wondered with sudden apprehension. It was the only reason I knew of that made any sense. At least, at the moment.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzt! Bzzzzzzzzzzzt! Bzzz—

Suddenly the vibrating stopped.

I looked up from the ground to see Aro holding a small black rectangle up to his ear—a rectangle I was surprised to recognize as the latest iPhone. There was a short pause before he began talking to whoever was on the other side.

"Hello?" he began nervously, in the same slightly panicked tone he'd used when we'd called him a couple of days ago.

So he really was like that was like that with everyone, I observed.

At the time, I really didn't pause to think about why that might be the case—why Aro might be so on edge with every phone call he had received lately. It was definitely suspicious. But in that particular moment, I was much too consumed with anxiety about what the person on the other end might say to him. I wasn't even sure whether I wanted it to be Carlisle, since anything the doctor had to say probably wasn't good.

Aro paused for a minute as he listened to the reply.

Then, utterly without warning he started rambling something irate in Italian into the phone. I couldn't make out a single word he was saying—I didn't know the language, and he was talking much too fast. But he sounded absolutely furious. Almost as furious as he'd sounded when he thought that Edward had killed me on our honeymoon.

The kind of furious that I was worried might manifest itself as violence.

So I recoiled from his side as he continued with his vicious tirade.

Though thankfully, nothing happened.

After a tense few minutes, Aro shouted some sort of goodbye into the speaker and promptly pressed the button to hang up. He took an unnecessary deep breath to soothe his frazzled nerves, and slipped the device back into one of his many trench coat pockets before he turned to look sheepishly at me.

"Who was that?" I asked, slowly approaching him again.

"Telemarketers," he lied without missing a beat.

For some reason, I knew it wasn't true. Aro wasn't the sort of person to get that upset with the mere annoyance of human advertisers. If telemarketers had really called Aro, I was pretty certain that he would have simply hung up. He had much more pressing matters to deal with than making some poor, call-center workers' lives miserable.

But without any suitable theories as to who it could have been instead, I decided, for now, to accept the lie. Perhaps I would confront him over it later, when I had mulled over the possibilities and come up with a suitable hypothesis. However, right now, I was more interested in getting back to telling Aro what I had almost revealed to him before.

That is, that even though I hadn't figured out all the technicalities yet, I was interested in going on at least one date with him.

I had my mouth open, ready to tell him this, when suddenly Aro's phone buzzed again. Frustrated by the improbable odds, I snapped my lips audibly shut. I waited with crossed arms and an irritatedly tapping foot while Aro answered the phone again, and began talking in Italian to whoever was on the other side.

This time, I was relieved to note, however, his voice was much softer. Instead of being sharp and deadly, it was rich and fluid like melted chocolate. And his lilting, foreign words were almost like a lullaby to my exasperated ears.

After a few minutes of serenading me with his side of the conversation, Aro politely hung up and turned back to me once again.

I felt compelled to ask him the same question this time, even though I wasn't sure I would obtain a straight answer. "Who was that, this time?"

"That was Renata," Aro revealed with surprising candor. "She wants us to come pick her up at the airport."