A/N I don't own Twilight or any of its characters. This plot however, is mine.
Hello everyone. I cannot believe how many reviews and notifications I got over the last week. I was crying with happiness and this is not a lie. Thank you all so very much and thank you BellaScotia (who happens to be the fantabulous author of the amazing fic Secrets and Lies - go read!) for recommending my fic. And thank you all for reading and reviewing. This means the world to me.
Your opinions on Bella throwing the glass were divided. One of you asked me if I didn't think this was disrespectful. Maybe it was, but giving Bella meds without her permission didn't show much respect, either :) And about her language... Yes Bella swears, and she swears a lot when she is upset. It's all she knows. She hasn't had very good examples in her life.
Thanks to Sherryola, who has become so much more than a friend and who now knows what this story means to me. You have no idea how much you mean to me. Get well soon, honey!
This chapter contains, I believe, some much awaited progress. And, finally, a little Edward. Don't blink though, or you'll miss him... ;)
Esme looks over her shoulder at the mess, then back at me. She doesn't say anything. She doesn't lash out, either. She swallows, I can tell that even from where I am standing at the other side of the bed.
My heart is crashing out of my chest. I clench my fists and breathe rapidly through my nose, my eyes fixed on Esme and waiting for her reaction.
Stefan would have leaped over the bed by now and jumped on me.
Laurent would have cooed me into a false sense of safety and pull me in for a hug before his comforting arms turned into constraining ones.
I don't know what Esme will do. I had to find out sooner or later, and honestly, I am pissed about what they did to me. Of everything they could have done, they took away the one thing I thought I had still - control over my consciousness. I put my trust in them by allowing them to prepare my medication.
Psh.
Stupid girl, see what you get? This is what you deserve.
I am momentarily horrified as I think of what they could have done to me whilst I was out. But then again, no… I was still in my clothes and I think I heard Esme saying she didn't want to meddle with me.
Well, she should have thought of that before she drugged me.
Fucking hell.
Esme still stands looking at me, no doubt thinking of what she will do to me. I'm hoping for a beating and nothing else. That would be the easy way out, of course.
I don't really believe the no-violence promise anymore.
I wait.
"You are upset."
No shit, Sherlock.
"I will go downstairs and leave you to calm down. Come and meet me when you're ready, so we can talk. Just talk, Bella. No violence." Her voice is calm, almost flat, but there is hurt in her face.
She leaves the room without further ado, and I stand frozen. Her footsteps trail down the stairs and only when I know she can no longer hear me, does a sob escape me.
And another.
And another.
I bend forward and lean my still clenched fists on the bed to accommodate my irregular breathing. A panic attack combined with a break down, that's a combination I've rarely had before.
A third variable sets in swiftly and I make it to the toilet just in time as my breakfast finds its way back out through my throat.
I rinse my mouth when the retching is finally stopping and drag myself to a corner of the room. There I sink down and sit for long hours. I'm too weary to think. I feel unworthy to seek the comfort of Renée's quilt. I never felt the need to provoke her like I did with Esme just now.
By God.
Then again Renée got paid to be nice to me and we both knew I was there temporarily. But somewhere deep down, I think I never thought Renée would hurt me. She could have sent me back to Stefan easily if she wanted to. Yet, she didn't. She just waited patiently until I could be sent off to the other side of the country. How very convenient. Right?
My eyes are closed, but every so often I open them to steady my sense of balance. I'm still dizzy, but it seems to be coming along in waves now, it's less constant. I'm shaky from the vomiting and my headache is just as bad as yesterday again. I need food and I need meds. But for both of those I will have to get down and meet Esme.
Esme, who seems to be keeping her promise again and is waiting for me to come down.
But what will be waiting for me there?
I sit, and wait, and force myself to endure.
I've had worse. That time Laurent shut me in my room and didn't let me out for three days, to name one example.
I raise my hand to snap the rubber band before that memory sets in fully, but as I look at the purple bruised skin on my wrist I decide against it.
I can't do it anymore. I'm tired, and wary, and weary, and sore.
I count to a hundred and fifty and then get up. My headache hits me full force and I have to fight the urge to lie down on the bed and forget about the world around me. I am so tired of fighting, so tired…
Ah, hell. Let's get this over with. Face the consequences and see how we will move on from there. I look at the shattered glass and swipe the pieces together into a pile with my sleeve-covered hands.
What have I done?
Picking up the suitcase that has been packed and ready to go since yesterday morning, I find my way down the stairs, all the while holding on to the wall for support, and not only from my dizziness.
Downstairs, I immediately see that Esme is not alone in the kitchen. I recognize Carlisle by his blond, almost white hair that is combed back neatly. He sits with his back to me but turns as he hears me approaching.
I stagger backwards, literally, at what this might mean for me. Why is he here? Shouldn't he be working? Will he keep his promise about the belt?
Be brave, Bella. You've had worse.
I set the suitcase down and stand back straight to meet Carlisle's gaze. Esme sits opposite him and even from my peripheral vision I can see she looks worried. Not angry.
"Leaving us?" Carlisle asks.
That depends on you of course, I think.
"We're not sending you away, if that's what you think," Esme says from behind Carlisle. "I understand you are upset for what we did, I really do. But I must say Bella, that what you did was not very nice behaviour. We will not punish you for it — never. But we do not approve of it, either."
I stand, and wait.
"Do you understand that?"
I don't react. I am waiting for Carlisle to speak. I keep looking at him, to convey that message at least.
Finally, he starts talking. "I am sorry that we upset you by giving you the extra medication. You needed them for your head. I didn't know they would have such a strong effect on you. You must have been very tired."
This man calls himself a doctor? Is he?
Then his words sink in. He is sorry that they upset me. He isn't sorry for what he did. But that's not what bothers me most.
If they just had told me there were giving me extra meds, all would have been fine. They have acted behind my back and not told me what was going on. I have been treated as if I, and what I would want, don't matter.
There are rare times that I wish I could actually talk. This would be one of them.
I am at a loss. I want to scream, I want to run. I want to hide and I want to fight. Desperation washes over me as I realize several things at once. I realize I am as pissed as I am because they have given me meds without telling me. I realize I that Carlisle and Esme have not moved a muscle and I am starting to think that they might not lash out at me and make me pay for my wrongdoing. I realize I'm maybe more disappointed than pissed about the med affair.
But, disappointment means that I had expectations.
Then what was I expecting, precisely?
"Bella, please take your suitcase back to your room. We are not sending you anywhere," Esme says softly, but clearly, pulling me out of my reverie. "Unless of course you want to leave us. In that case, just let us know, and we'll make the arrangements. You can be gone by tomorrow morning if you want to."
I blink at her words. I look at her face and see that her eyes look worried underneath her calm façade.
"But I ask you to give us one more chance. It would mean the world of us if you gave us one more chance."
I look at her, then at Carlisle.
"We should have told you we were giving you extra medication," Carlisle says when I meet his gaze. "I'm sorry about that, Bella. It must have been very upsetting for you and it was unacceptable of us. Can you try to forgive us?"
It feels like the world is slipping away underneath me. The man has voiced my concern to the letter and he has apologized.
He apologized.
I exhale and it's like something just breaks inside me. My mind is too chaotic to even finish the one thought as I look at Carlisle and Esme. Esme gets up and walks towards me slowly, her arm outstretched a little.
"I wish so much I could hug you right now," she whispers.
And… I wish so much that I could get that hug. These last days have been crazy. My entire body hurts and my soul is torn.
I'm exhausted to my core.
And I realize I don't have the energy to fight it all anymore. I don't know how I have become so tired or so careless all of a sudden, but I am too weary to try and explain it.
The dams break. I wrap my arms around myself and cry.
~O~
I don't remember how long I sat on the floor in the kitchen, crying and hugging myself. Carlisle left at one point, and Esme sat down with me the entire time, crying with me and wrapping her arms around herself tightly, just like me.
I remember having made eye contact with her at points, and every time I saw a lot of things I couldn't name, but it was nothing negative, of that I was sure.
Esme had to get up first, asking me if I wasn't getting sore, sitting on the floor like that. She coaxed me into eating some and having meds, and she let me prepare them myself. She spoke to me about a lot of things, just random snippets about the workings of the household, her other children, Carlisle, and me. She told me she hoped that I could learn to trust them, and she apologized time and again for not telling me about the medication.
She told me she hoped I would start to try and communicate a bit. Not entire conversations, but a little thing now and then.
She told me how proud she was of me that I told her I didn't like to be drugged, and that she was actually a little proud that I stood up against her, "although I'd rather not you make throwing glasses a habit." She told me that she wanted to hear specifically what I liked and didn't like. "We have to do this together."
Together.
She asked me, pleaded with me to work with them. This scares the shit out of me. Never before have I been asked what I wanted. Never before have I been asked if I was okay with what was happening. Everything has always been decided for me. Here, I have met nothing but kindness. Not threats, no tension in the atmosphere. Of course, it's tense because I am new here and nobody knows me, but it's not tense because there is the probability of violence. I have not seen anything yet that could possibly point that way.
Maybe that's why it's so hard to keep my guard up. I still don't know where I stand and that's draining me. The constant threat used to keep me on my toes and fueled my wariness. Here, there is nothing. I have not even been warned yet.
I have to know what they expect of me.
I am in the room that I should start calling 'my room,' maybe. When Esme asked if I'd rather stay upstairs when the rest of the children came home from school, I gratefully accepted her offer. She came with me and together we cleaned up the mess of the broken glass.
I'm sitting on the bed now, head resting back against the headboard. Carlisle said it would be better for me if I tried to get some sleep, but he added that he understood that I wanted to do these things on my own terms.
I don't know what I have done to deserve these people. I can't really stay mad at them for messing with the drugs. They apologized and now I am calm and thinking rationally, although I don't approve, I slept very, very well and I really needed it. I did. Besides, nothing happened. They didn't even undress me or put me underneath the blankets while I was out and that assures me. A lot.
I have written down one question on the notepad. When I see Esme again, I will give this to her. This will placate her need for me to communicate, however horrifying that thought is to me, and it will ease my nagging unease about this.
Below me, I hear the Cullen kids coming home from school. Easy tones of conversation drift up to my room in waves. I have closed the door, wanting to be alone and hoping they will leave me. I even have watched TV for a short while, but I couldn't keep concentrated and my headache got worse from the flashing images on the screen.
A soft knock on my door, startling me a little, followed by Alice's voice. "Hi Bella, can I come in? Can you make a sound if I can?"
Sweet Alice. Do I want to talk to her?
Wait, did I just think 'sweet Alice?'
I don't dare to leave her out, though, so I get up from the bed — dizzy, shit! — and open the door. I step back immediately after until the backs of my legs hit the bed again.
Alice trails into the room. "Hi," she breathes, smiling widely.
I sit down on the bed again, against the headboard, pulling my legs up and wrapping my arms around them. Alice sits down at the foot of the bed. I'm happy the bed is so big, come to think of it. But I'm not really afraid of her, I think. She couldn't really hurt me, physically, if she tried. I don't know if she's going to play mind games, but she really doesn't struck me as the type of person who would.
I mean, I know there must be kind people out there in the world.
I just haven't met them yet, really.
Then again, who would be kind to me?
"How are you feeling? Are you better?" Her words pull me out of my thoughts and again she strikes me as genuinely kind and sweet.
Maybe…
To answer her, I nod, I am better. I almost want to tell her that she was right, that I was very pissed about the extra medication. But don't think I want to indulge in our contact too much. When she learns more about me, she'll want nothing to do with me.
"I have so many things to ask you," she smiles shyly. "But I don't want to upset you." Her eyes are like a puppy's when she pleads me with her gaze to understand her. "I just want to get to know you. I think you are a very nice girl."
I scoff and roll my eyes a little at this. I am a lot, but nice, I am not. Or, that's what I have been told all my life.
"Why not? I mean, you've been through a lot, but I think that underneath all the stress, you are nice, and sweet, and gentle."
How she makes me comfortable to interact, I don't know, but my face seems to loosen a bit and I cock my eyebrow at her assumption. Silly girl. She should know better.
Maybe you should tell her about it, my mind whispers, and I'm not even sure if this is my rationale or my evil side speaking now.
Alice laughs at my reaction, throwing her head back as the bell like chimes tinkle through the room. "You obviously disagree."
"Alice? Did you have my books still?" That's Edwards voice, trailing through the hallway, followed by his footsteps. A door opens down the hall. "Where are you?"
"I'm here," Alice says just loud enough to be heard.
Edward stops in the doorway of the room — my room — and smiles carefully when he sees me. "Hi Bella, it's good to see you up. How are you?"
I just look at him, almost frozen. Is he angry? Annoyed? Dangerous? His eyes tell me differently, but I'm not sure. It seems that every time we have seen each other, it has been awkward to the extreme.
What do I do? I'm afraid of him, right? Right?
The silence extends and I finally look away, wrapping my arms a little tighter around me. I don't know what to do. Why am I unable to answer him?
"So, Alice, did you have them?" His voice is awkward, hesitating.
Alice jumps up, startling me a little. My head whips back up to see her movements, see what she will do. "Of course! Wait, I'll get them for you." She brushes out of the room, placing a hand lightly on his arm as she passes him in close proximity.
They are such a contradiction. Renée told me they are twins, but not only their gender is opposite. Alice is bubbly, happy, whereas I've seen Edward only as pensive, withdrawn even. As for looks, apart from the fact that he is about a foot taller than she, they differ in appearance as well. Alice's hair always seems to be done perfectly, but Edward's looks like he doesn't even bother to get a comb through it in the mornings. They have the same eyes, but they're not the same colour. Alice's eyes are a warm blue and they always sparkle.
Edward turns to leave as well, but hesitates and goes back to face me again. "I'm sorry for anything I have done to upset you," he says after a long moment of silence. "Please know that it was never my intention to do so."
We look at each other and I can see the sincerity in his eyes as I can hear it in his voice. He really seems upset over what he has done.
How can that be?
It's unbelievable that everybody in this house seems to be apologizing towards me, instead of the other way round. I suddenly realize how much everybody must have gone out of their way to make me comfortable. Everybody has been so forthcoming. Even Rosalie, in her way, by not messing with me, maybe.
How to tell Edward that I don't blame him? I thought he would be upset with me, but it seems it isn't so. I can't seem to look away as I look into his eyes.
"Here," Alice comes dancing back, and Edward breaks my gaze to look at her. Did I notice reluctance there? He takes the books from his sister. "Thanks. I'll be up studying." Then, with a nod at Alice and a half-smile at me, he leaves.
"Well done," Alice winks as she walks back into the room, obviously joking but being dead serious all the same. "No panic attack this time?"
I can't help but let out a silent laugh at that, lips curling up and air escaping. No, apparently I didn't. And it wasn't because I was too scared to move. The realization, and the laugh, feel exceptionally liberating. With the escaping air, some anxiety evaporates. I divert my eyes however, suddenly shy with being this much at ease.
Alice giggles and sits back on the bed again. "You are okay with this, by the way, aren't you?" she asks randomly, gesturing to show what she means. I nod at her. She's closer than I have allowed anyone in a long time, but she's just not threatening. I know I have to be careful, though. Alice is unaware of my confusing internal monologues. Her whole face lights up at my nod and she asks, "so, want to hear about our day?"
She tells me about the school, about the ridiculously tiny student body and about the teachers. The students know virtually everybody by name, and a lot of the teachers can be addressed by their first name as well. She has a lot of classes with either Edward or Jasper, but whereas she has more creative subjects, Edward focuses a bit on languages and Jasper on abstract courses. Emmett plays in the football team, just as I had guessed, and Rose is the technician of the bunch.
Somehow it's wonderful to hear these little things about the family. Alice makes me get to know them without making it very obvious or belittling. She just talks and talks and is clearly enjoying it.
She says they don't always spend lunch time together, as Edward is kidnapped a lot by Jessica — Alice says the time like it's something foul — and Rosalie and Emmett like to sit with their own friends, James among them. Alice, Jasper, Edward and Jessica usually sit with their other friends, and Alice tells me their names although they mean nothing to me. Tyler, Mike, Lauren, Angela, Eric.
I revel as I listen. Not really at what she tells me, though — I'm not much of a group person. But to me it's a miracle really, to be interacting with someone for so long, and actually enjoying it. After a while though, my head starts swimming and I feel my concentration wavering. It feels alien to realize that I don't want this to stop. Alice has been with me for almost an hour and my body has gradually relaxed in her presence. She's just so… disarming, maybe.
Esme interrupts us from downstairs, calling everyone to dinner.
Oh. What do I do? I can't eat with them, but maybe I can sit with them? Then again, I am truly tired now and I'm not even sure how long I can stay awake anymore. But I should eat and have something for my headache. And my throat.
Alice smiles at me and asks me the question I am pondering over. Before I can answer, however, I hear Esme coming up the stairs. She enters my room again with a tray of food. "Dinner in bed, my lady?"
A small smile forms on my lips and Esme mirrors it, but tenfold. She exchanges glances with Alice and as Alice leaves the room with a pleasant "bye!" Esme sets the tray down. "Your regulars — sorry about that — and some mashed potatoes. You don't have to come down tonight if you don't want to, but know that you are very welcome to do so. Rosalie and Emmett will be out, and Jasper, Edward and Alice will probably be studying tonight, so it should be quiet. Oh," she adds as an afterthought, "I left your meds to prepare them yourself. Can I do anything else for you?"
I'm dizzy after her speech and I need a moment to process everything she just said. Then I shake my head.
"Have a nice dinner. I hope you don't feel ignored or excluded, but since you rather not eat with others…" her voice trails off.
No, I don't feel ignored. I feel pampered and I don't deserve that, at all. I shake my head to assure her that I certainly do not feel ignored. Actually, a little less attention would be nice, even. I'm not angry with her anymore. She has done her utter best to be forthcoming and the fact that I get to prepare my own meds shows that she understands I don't trust her with this anymore. And she's a nice woman. There is no denying it.
Esme leaves the room and I eat the best mashed potatoes I have had in my entire life. It even soothes my annoyance with the fluid food a little.
I wait for almost two hours after dinner, luxuriating in the feeling of a full stomach and a dull headache, instead of a sharp throbbing one. Somehow it feels unreal to be relaxing so soon, but it seems my body is acting by its own will. I'm still on guard, but the lack of constant threat in this house is liberating. When I compare this to the first time I entered Stefan's house, the differences are striking. I can tell that the atmosphere in this house is genuinely calm.
Finally, I pick up the tray and go downstairs, the notepad with my question in the pocket of my sweater.
Maybe I should have changed into different clothes. I'm rumpled to the extreme. Then again, I don't really care about appearance and if I am changing at all, it will be into soft pyjamas and after a hot shower. I'm confident I will be okay enough to do both things later tonight.
I come down and find only Carlisle and Esme in the living room. I acknowledge their gaze as I walk to the kitchen with my tray and clean up my dishes. Esme starts getting up, but from the corner of my eye I see Carlisle holding her down gently. "Let her do this," he whispers, and I'm not sure if he really meant it only for his wife to hear.
Looking up at Esme, I hold up the tray with a questioning gaze. "On top of the fridge," she smiles at me, and I stand on my tiptoes — holding on to the fridge for dear life momentarily as a rush of dizziness washes over me — and place the tray on the fridge.
Mission well achieved.
"Come sit with us," Esme asks gently as she stands up. "Do you want to drink anything? Some tea, maybe? Or hot milk?"
I hold up two fingers without thinking, unconsciously using the sign language of sorts Renée and I developed on-the-go to communicate a little. I lower my hand immediately, quite shocked myself at what I just did. Esme's face still splits into the widest smile I have ever seen, but she doesn't say anything and scurries into the kitchen to get to work.
Turning back to Carlisle, he holds out his arm in an inviting gesture. Hmm. I'm not sure if I'm ready and willing to socialize. On the other hand, if I keep refraining from everything, I'll never learn who these people are and what my life here is going to be like.
Plus, I want to ask them something, and I might as well get it over with.
Gingerly, I walk around the couch and stand at a safe distance before Carlisle. When he invites me to sit, I sit down on the edge of the big chair I have used on Saturday, which effectively is the seat furthest away from him.
He looks at me inquiringly. "How are you feeling?"
Mentally, I do my checklist. I'm pretty okay, come to think of it. Carlisle gauges my reaction and seems to be deliberating what he is going to say next.
"Here's the thing," he starts, and I tense up. I think I'm not going to like what he is going to say. Not at all. "Your throat and neck need to be checked, and I have to know how the swelling on your head is subsiding. I know how apprehensive you are about that prospect, but your healing process has to be monitored. I am of course a fully qualified doctor and I can examine you here. I can understand however if you are uncomfortable with this. In that case, we can take you to the hospital tomorrow and provide a female doctor for you. This brings along the discomfort of travelling however, and dizziness and nausea often do not lessen when being in moving cars."
I hear his attempt at humour but I don't reply as I let the rest of his words sink in. Being examined is such a stress, it was already back in Phoenix. I had a female doctor there who was kind enough, but I only let her look at me once. I don't like probing hands. And certainly not on me.
What do I do?
Esme interrupts us by bringing in a tray, with three steaming cups.
"Think about it, Bella. Although I must say I'd really like to check your head, out of both a doctor's and a father's concern."
I look up at his words, surprised. Esme smiles to herself as she places the mugs on the coffee table. She brings the tray back to the kitchen and comes back out with a jar of honey. "For your throat?" she asks, holding the honey up, and I nod.
I really am being pampered. Maybe I should ask my question now. Or should I wait for the hot liquids to cool? Ah, stupid girl, you should have thought of that. I grit my teeth and wait for the drinks to cool, watching TV with Carlisle and Esme but not really registering what's on the news. The flashing images hurt my head but I try to ignore it. I am happy that the questions seem to be over, at least for now. I have not answered Carlisle's question about the examination, but I'll just 'forget' it for the moment. I really wouldn't know what's the best way to deal with it. It seems my wounds have to be checked, but do I want a stranger to do it or exactly the opposite?
"I am so happy that you decided to join us tonight," Esme sighs suddenly, and she holds my gaze when I look at her. "That really means a lot to me."
Oh, wow.
"Could you try to drink anything? We could leave you if you want to."
It's starting to get ridiculous, the lengths they go to accommodate me. I fear vaguely that this courtesy will only last so long and that they will start demanding things in exchange. Then again, they really don't come across as people who would do such things. However, I have been here for two days and it's not like I have spent a lot of time with them.
I set my jaw and tell myself to just get over my own ridiculous behaviour. Deliberately, I pick up my mug and drink. Delicious. And it wasn't even that hard.
An easy warmth spreads through my belly as the milk settles in my stomach. I wish I could sleep again, but I have one more thing to do today. Before I can do anything, however, Carlisle repeats his earlier question and asks me if he can check my head. Shit. He hasn't forgotten.
I look at him and the worry must show in my eyes. I'd rather not. He nods in understanding, but I can tell he's a little frustrated. By asking me a series of 'yes' or 'no' questions, he tries to determine how I feel.
"Thank you," he says solemnly when we are done. This leaves me baffled. Carlisle chuckles softly at my surprise, but doesn't say anything.
Sometimes I really wonder what they think of me. But for now, I have one more thing to do. Picking the notepad out of my pocket, I see Esme's face brighten hopefully.
She really should stop doing that. Gah, it's not like it's that special that I write something down.
Swallowing with anticipation, I stand up, toying with the notepad. Both Carlisle and Esme look up at me expectantly, and Esme nods encouragingly. "You can ask us anything, dear."
Steeling my resolve, I take one last look at the notepad. In a swift movement, I place it on the table and stand back. Even from this distance, I can still read the words, albeit upside down.
What do you expect of me?
I look up at them, too anxious to feel anything or to settle for a facial expression. Esme reads, frowns, and then laughs. An open, disarming laugh. Carlisle smiles too, but less exuberantly.
Well, at least they are not mad, right?
Carlisle and Esme exchange looks, and then Carlisle gets up and leaves up the stairs. I look after him in utter alarm. Wait. Where is he going? What is he going to get? Fuck. Fuck!
"Calm down, Bella, nothing's wrong," Esme says, but I am not so sure about that. I don't know her definition of 'wrong'. I hope it's not the same as Laurent's.
Carlisle appears swiftly again, with what looks like a piece of paper. Relief washes through me when I see that he's not holding a belt. Or a baseball bat.
"This is a contract," Carlisle says, and all my alarm bells go off again. Involuntarily, I take a step backwards. A contract? Saying what? What am I supposed to sign? What do they want? Horrible, horrible visions fly through my head. My heart rate is increasing and my breathing speeding up. Oh, shit, I don't want to get into a panic attack again.
"It's a non-violence act," Carlisle goes on, ignoring my distress. "Esme and I will both sign this promise that we will never hurt you, never use any type of violence against you."
I forget to breathe entirely as I take in his words.
"You can hold us to this. Maybe it's easier for you to believe that we will not hurt or abuse you if it's put in print."
What's the catch? What's the fucking catch?
"In exchange we will only ask one thing. That you try to communicate with us. It's okay if you don't want to, and it's okay when you feel like you can't. There will be no consequences if you don't want to communicate. This bargain is unconditional. But maybe you will try it. You don't have to sign as yet. We sign this now, and as soon as you feel ready to meet your end of the agreement, you can sign. How's that?"
I am so stunned I can't even think, really. Registering a burning sensation in my lungs, I start breathing again raggedly, wringing my hands in an attempt to take in what just happened.
Holy fuck, do they really mean this?
"Of course, you have to agree with the terms first and comment on them. Do you want to read the contract now or later in your room?"
Hesitantly I hold up two fingers.
A contract. Huh.
"Excellent," Carlisle says happily. "I am so pleased that you are willing to consider our proposal. That's what we expect of you, Bella. To try and work with us to make you happy here. I'm not sure if that is what you meant with you question, but that's what we expect from you. Nothing more, nothing less. We just want you to be happy."
They both beam at me and I can't help the grimace of disbelief that must flash across my face. Esme laughs and invites me to sit down again. "Start to believe it," she says when I do indeed sit back down in the big chair. "You are going to like it here."
Well... I think there are some very good signs in this chapter! What do you think? Please, press review, it means the world to me and makes me want to write more :)
PS Tiny extra author's note as y'all want Edward to get rid of Jess - just so you know, so do I ;) However, this is Bella talking and at this point, she just doesn't know. She doesn't really care, either. Bear with me :) Thanks for reviewing!
