Hi…I love you. You know this…right? I really do.

Melanie went over this and added some fabulosity. And yes…I know that is not a word. But it should be.

Sandy got to read this early, because I rely on her for so much. I hope it made her feel a bit better.

I'm a fan of this chapter…just sayin'.

Edward pulled the sheet up over his naked body, reaching for Bell's hand as he settled his back against the headboard. She took it hesitantly and allowed him to pull her into his side, tucking the sheet up to her throat. She had a moment of shame and insecurity, worrying that he didn't want to look at the ink and scars that covered her skin, but then she caught sight of his erection that was still hard beneath the sheet. It seemed that he wanted her…no matter how little she thought of herself.

"I have disclosed to you my sexual history, or lack thereof. You know my occupation as well as my family dynamics. Yet I know nothing about you. We are going to change that…right now," he said, the dominant tone in his voice at odds with the faint tremor she could feel snake through his long frame.

"My name is Isabella, Isabella Swan. I'm working toward my Doctorate in Psychology at UDub. I don't have any family and my sexual history…well you'd need more fingers than you've got to add those numbers up. I have people who will protect me on the rink but zero friends. And this is where I live. So now can we get back to business?" she snapped, hating the traitorous flush that covered her skin. She felt exposed and vulnerable now that he had forced her to open up. And he didn't even know the worst yet.

"Isabella…" he sighed, loving the feel of her oh so feminine name on his lips, but she quickly slapped her hand over his mouth, silencing him. Her eyes were full of fire and pain as she looked at him.

"Don't…that's not my name," she growled, but her words lacked bite. Instead they held the kind of agony that came from a certain kind of torture.

"Who hurt you Bell?" he mumbled, his lips moving against her fingers. Her eyes widened so far, it would have been comical if he could not see the terror in her gaze. He reached up and pulled her trembling hand off his mouth and into his lap. "You can trust me, Bell. I promise you."

She wanted to trust him. She wanted to tell him everything and just let the cards fall as they may. But the way he was looking at her…as if she was worthy of gentle touches and listening ears, made her want to do anything to protect that.

"No one wants me, okay? My mom left when I was a baby and then my dad dropped me off at an orphanage because he didn't want to be saddled with a whiny brat. After that it was one foster family after another, but they always sent me back. And as for my dating history…it wasn't until after I finished my Bachelors that I understood what I was doing with men," she rasped, feeling the fear and regret smothering her.

"You were trying to find acceptance and affection from men in the form of sex. That usually exhibits itself in women with abandonment issues. It was another coping mechanism," Edward recited, trying to stop the images of Bell with dozens of nameless, faceless men that were suddenly rattling around in his head. Jealousy was never an emotion he had experienced before, but he was getting a healthy dose of it at the moment.

"Yeah I was. But when I finally realized what I was doing, and I understood that I wasn't getting any of that from the one night stands I was having, I stopped," she paused, suddenly worried what his reaction would be to what she said next. "Last night…with you, was the first time I had been with someone in almost three years."

Edward was speechless. He wanted to rejoice that she had found something in him that showed her that he could be trusted with her heart and body. But at the same time he wanted to hurt someone for what she'd been through.

"So…there ya go. I'm just another poor kid that got fucked by the system, and then fucked anything with a dick to try and feel wanted," she mumbled, turning over and hiding her face in the pillow. Edward looked at the colorful designs on her shoulder and back, seeing them with new eyes. The heart on her shoulder blade, which at first glance looked whole and perfect, actually had a crack through it. The music notes on her upper arm and wrist were not from some uplifting symphony, but more likely from a depressing dirge.

"Bell," he whispered, reaching through the covers for her. She let out a shuddering breath as his hand closed over her bicep. He wrapped his long arms around her, trying to comfort her the only way she would let him. "I'm not going anywhere."

The laugh she let out was harsh.

"You say that now," she spit, gripping the pillow tighter as the memories of her father's face threatened to push her over the edge. She had gotten so much better at pushing those hated visions away, but she had opened the door for them now. And as much as she knew it would only make him run faster, the tears would not be stopped. She broke open like a water balloon…one minute she was whole and the next, she had exploded everywhere, tears and sobs ripping out of her.

She cried for the childhood she never had. The tears fell faster when she imagined exactly how easy it had been for her mother to just walk away, and how bad she had to have been to make her father leave her with strangers. She screamed until she was hoarse thinking about the abuse she put herself and her body through as she jumped in and out of bed with any man that would have her.

And though her pain splayed him open, Edward held her through it all. His own tears soaked into her hair as he pulled her against him and lent her his strength.

Because whether she wanted it or not…she had his heart.

Awww…poor Bell. Sweet, fabulous Glasses…I want one.

See you next week.