Disclaimer: Edward and Bella aren't mine.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who's been here from the beginning and those who are just finding this story. Enjoy.

Chapter Fourteen: Mystery

Love, I hope we get on
I hope we can find a way
Of seeing it all
Love, I hope we can be
I hope I can find a way
Of letting you see
That I'm so easy to please
So easy

-Easy to Please, Coldplay

~September/ October~

It was heaven.

Being with Edward, living with him, loving him… it made every other happy moment in my life seem small, pale in comparison. I wasn't even sure I had even known what real happiness had felt like before I'd met him. Sure, there had been moments when I'd felt content enough, glad enough— but nothing could touch that all consuming, all encompassing joy in being alive that I felt when I was with Edward.

It wasn't just him though, it was the cottage too. It was the freedom that I felt there.

I got up whenever I wanted to in the morning, whether it was 7AM or 10AM. I stayed up as late as I wanted to at night, reading or watching TV. I ate what I wanted. I listened to music on Edward's insanely complicated stereo system whenever I wanted, as loud as I wanted. I kissed Edward when I wanted to—touched him, hugged him, made love to him—all when I wanted to.

Edward would wake up each morning to swim and kayak, no matter what the weather was like. It became my habit to wake when he did, and watch him dress in the dim early morning light. If nothing more interesting developed (as it often did), I'd lift my face for his good morning kiss, then roll over and go back to sleep for a couple hours.

The mornings were my time to be alone. Usually, I didn't even bother dressing, just threw on one of Edward's long sleeved flannel shirts, made myself a cup of tea and went to sit on the porch. I'd wrap myself up in one of the old wool blankets and read, or stare at the scenery, or watch the little red dot on the other side of the lake that was Edward's kayak.

Living beside the lake was amazingly peaceful. The already sparse summer community began closing up their cottages for the winter in mid-September, and I eagerly awaited the time when we'd be all on our own. I was beginning to discover how much relished being alone, thrived on it… but maybe that was just because with Edward, I never felt lonely.

After spending most of the morning on the water, Edward would wander back in around noon, make his lunch and go straight back out to his shed. I'd taken to calling his hideaway the 'Cave,' but I still had no clue what he did in there all day. All I knew for certain was that four days a week, he'd hole himself inside from noon until dinnertime; sometimes he'd emerge frowning, as if something hadn't gone well, or there was a problem he couldn't puzzle out. Sometimes he came out smiling, laughing and exuberant. Sometimes he went right back inside after dinner and didn't come out again until very late at night.

This wasn't the only odd thing Edward had done however. My third day at the cottage, he'd handed me a credit card and told me to use it to buy anything I needed. I'd stared down at it for a few long seconds, realizing that I still had no clue how much money Edward had or where it came from. As far as I knew Edward didn't "work" per say—still, the card was always accepted when I used it so I assumed he was paying the bill on time every month. I didn't feel comfortable using it for more than groceries and sometimes gas for Edward's Volvo when he let me drive it. My bank account might have dwindled a bit, but there was still enough left for anything I might want to buy myself.

I was too busy to wonder much about it, nor did I feel like wasting time wondering: I'd known from the beginning that I would have questions—and that Edward wouldn't always answer them.

Every day after my own lunch, I'd get dressed and curl up in my favorite writing spot in the little alcove by the stairs with my laptop. It hadn't taken me nearly as much time as I'd thought it would to get back into writing every day, though I'd started out small, with just a couple writing prompts. But soon, just dipping my toes in wasn't enough, and I flung myself into it head first; everything, all the words I'd strangled the past eight years came gushing out.

It was exhilarating, cathartic… and exhausting. Every night I'd close my laptop feeling like I'd just run a marathon. I'd stare at the words I'd written, relief rushing all through my body; I'd been so afraid that I'd end up just staring at a blank screen, crippled with the writer's block that had made me give up in the first place. But as soon as I'd touched the keys the words literally poured out of me. Remnants of stifled dreams, old friends, fears. And I found that because I knew more of emotions—pain, fear, happiness, love—that my writing had a truth to it that it had never possessed before.

Edward and I didn't spend all our time working, or whatever it was that Edward did in his Cave. On nice days we would put on our hiking boots and he would take me into the Olympic National forest. He showed me hidden waterfalls, mossy streambeds, meadows, huge trees that had fallen over and were slowly being retaken by the forest. He took me to the beaches nearby and helped me navigate slimy wet rocks during low tide as we searched for starfish and sea anemone in the tidal pools.

When it was warm out Edward would come to me in the morning, softly nuzzling my cheek and neck until I was completely awake; I'd change into my bathing suit and Edward and I would swim together. Sometimes we spent most of the day on the lake in our kayaks, and Edward would show me all of his favorite places. The water was so clear that we could almost always see the bottom.

I had never been much of an outdoorsy person, but being with Edward changed things. He was so relaxed, never rushing or hurrying, and he took things slowly for me so I didn't feel in danger of over-exerting myself. And with all the walking and swimming and loving, it didn't take long for my body to change. My scrawny figure began to fill out until I no longer resembled a walking skeleton. I had curves in places I'd never had them before, and all the kayaking gave my arms and shoulders clearly defined muscles. For the first time in my life, I was actually strong.

My 27th birthday was the second week of September. I didn't tell Edward about it—really didn't see the need of celebrating it at all—but Edward must have snuck a peek at my side of the marriage license too, because at dinner he presented me with a chocolate cupcake with one lit candle in it. He wrapped his arms around me and whispered Happy Birthday in my ear as he bent down to kiss my cheek. I smiled at him and blew out the candle. I tried not to think about the fact that it was my very last one.

It hadn't taken Edward and me long to learn to live with each other. Maybe it was because we'd always been so good at reading each other, but it felt easy and uncomplicated. We could tell when the other needed silence, and when the other wanted to be alone it wasn't hard to find somewhere to disappear to. Our silences didn't feel awkward, when we spoke we didn't run out of things to say, and we laughed. We laughed all the time.

Sometimes at the end of the day my cheeks would hurt from smiling and laughing so much.

Edward took me to Seattle for the day in late September, and we did the tourist thing— wandered through Pike Place and the Science Fiction Museum, went up the Space Needle and saw the troll under the bridge. It was so much fun, but coming back to our cottage was better. When I told Edward that he laughed and said it was the same way for him.

Edward had grown more comfortable being affectionate with me. He'd started out being a little hesitant about initiating contact— wary I think, that I would read more into his affection than was actually there. But the more time that passed and the more trust that grew between us, the easier it became for him.

Now he touched and kissed just for the sake of touching and kissing. I loved that he did it… and I loved that I was able to recognize the look in his hooded eyes, the lazy half smirk that told me he wanted me. Whether it was gently, thoroughly, now or later; on the bed, couch, porch, floor; whether it was quickly, slowly, playful, sweet… I loved what it felt like to be wanted—really wanted, not needed or tolerated or barely accepted. I loved that I could make him happy.

For more than month Edward and I lived this way, blissfully out of touch with the rest of the world. Still, I shouldn't have been so surprised when real life intruded in the form of a phone call.

…

"We've been summoned," I sighed as Edward came into the kitchen, holding a tiny ball of orange fluff in his arms. He set Claire down in front of her food bowl, then came up behind me to place a soft kiss on the back of my neck. I let myself melt against him for a moment, savoring his warmth, then reluctantly pulled myself away so I wouldn't burn dinner. I watched as he went to sit down on his stool, one eyebrow raised questioningly. "By my father."

He looked so unperturbed at this that I couldn't help but ask, "That doesn't surprise you?"

"Not particularly. I've been waiting for it for awhile now." He leaned back, grinning at me. "You seem nervous. Are you afraid he won't approve of me?"

I laughed, turning back to the soup I was stirring. "I think it's probably too late for that. My mother hasn't liked you from day one, and I highly doubt she's said anything very complimentary about you to Charlie." My smile faded slightly; I'd told Edward all about my parents and how mixed up my feelings were for them. I wondered how he what he would think of relationship after seeing us together. "Do you remember that party I went to a couple months ago?" I said abruptly.

Edward's expression instantly darkened. "The one I rescued you from? Yes I do." His tone was sarcastic.

I shot him a look. "Yes, thatparty. Anyway, before you 'rescued' me, I was hanging out with this guy I used to go high school with, Mike Newton, and he said that he had, um, liked me back then." I flushed, still hardly believing that Mike's drunken confession had been the truth. "He liked me but he never did anything because my dad scared him so much. I never considered that being the Police Chief's daughter had that kind of effect on my non-existent dating life in high school." I paused, something suddenly occurring to me. "Did you know who my father was before you met me?"

"Alice told me, right before you moved in."

"Did it intimidate you—knowing who I was?"

"Are you seriously comparing me to a bunch of teenaged boys?"

I laughed again. "No, of course not. I can't see you being scared of anything."

He gave me a strange, slightly sad, that made me wonder if I was wrong about him. I thought about that for a moment, trying to imagine what Edward was afraid of.

"Have you ever met Charlie before?" I asked eventually, remembering all the stories that had spread through Forks about how Edward drove too fast or was publicly intoxicated; wouldn't it be awkward if Charlie had been the one to arrest him?

"Yeah, he pulled me over my first week in Forks to give me a warning about riding my motorcycle here. He said he'd seen enough guys smeared by logging trucks to last a lifetime. He was pretty nice about it though."

"I'm glad to see that you took his advice to heart," I teased, ladling the soup into two bowls. When I handed him the tray to take out onto the porch, I didn't immediately let go of it, but stared up at him, trying to figure out what he was really thinking.

"You don't have to come with me to see Charlie if you don't want to," I told him quietly. "My family was never part of the deal."

"Bella, you know I'll come. Just tell me when you want to go."

"How does tomorrow sound? I was thinking we should just get it over with as soon as possible."

"Tomorrow sounds good."

…

"Wow, you really have a death wish," I said the next afternoon, unable to keep the smile from my face as I looked Edward up and down. He was leaning casually against his Ducati, my helmet resting against his thigh.

"What's life without a little danger?" he said, pulling me to him. "Besides, I never said I was good at following the rules."

I tried to picture Edward at seventeen; I wondered if he had been as confident and self-assured then as he was now. Something told me that he was no Mike Newton. I told him so, watching his brow raise as he considered it. "That was a long time ago, I'm a much different person now… but I don't think I would've been averse to sneaking up to your bedroom window at night."

I whacked his shoulder and took the helmet, feeling a rush of regret that I hadn't known him then. How different would my life have been if he'd found me then. "Come on, the Chief's expecting us."

Fifteen minutes later we were pulling up in front of Charlie's house. I looked around in surprise, noticing that it had changed in the month since I had last seen it: the grass was newly mown, the bushes trimmed— a little inexpertly it was true, but they were certainly much less ragged than they had been. The front steps looked newly repaired. I wondered how much of it was boredom on Charlie's part, or if he was trying to make a good impression for Edward. Neither option seemed very likely, but I couldn't think of any other reason why he would suddenly be so interested in home maintenance.

Charlie was in the front hall when I opened the door. When he saw me his, cautious smile faded and his eyes went wide. "What the hell happened to you Bella?" he cried.

I flinched, my hand automatically rising to the my cheek. Shit, I had practically forgotten about the nasty yellow-purple bruise and long red scratch along my cheekbone. "It's nothing," I tried to reassure him. "Just an accident; you know how clumsy I am." It had happened the day before when I was climbing out of my kayak after Edward and I had spent the afternoon on the lake. I hadn't waited for Edward to help me out—pure stupidity on my part given that my balance was a thousand times worse on the water. One small misstep and I'd fallen straight onto one of the dock's wooden pylons. The only good thing was that my face looked a lot worse than it felt.

Charlie's expression darkened as he looked past me to where Edward was standing in the doorway. I could tell immediately what he was thinking.

"Don't even go there Charlie; it was an accident," I warned him, my voice very low. He didn't look very convinced, but didn't push either.

With one last firm look at my father, I introduced him to Edward, feeling incredibly awkward and shy the whole time. Thank God I'll never have to do this again, I thought, feeling my face flush. I don't think I could stand it.

We eventually made our way into the living room, and made stilted conversation. I told Charlie a little about my new life at the cottage, but not everything. In a way, that time was… sacred to me, much too special to talk about, even with my father. I showed Edward some of the awful baby pictures Charlie had scattered around the room and he laughed. Thankfully Charlie didn't pull out any of the awkward Bella-baby stories; that would have been a little too cliché.

Charlie didn't say much at all actually. He was a lot like me, quiet, even with people he knew, and absolutely abysmal at small talk with strangers. Instead, he watched us, though I noticed every few minutes his gaze would shift out the window to where the motorcycle was parked.

"So Edward," my dad began suddenly, during one of the many inevitable lulls in the conversation. "You're not from around here are you?"

I flushed beet red. Beside me, Edward stiffened.

"No," he answered, his voice slow and hesitant. "I grew up in California. I haven't been back there in years though."

"And what exactly is it that you do for a living? Bella's never explained it to me. But certainly, that cottage couldn't have come cheap."

"I work from home," was Edward's curt reply. I turned to him with a mortified, apologetic expression on my face.

"Dad," I interrupted just as he was about to continue. "We really don't need to do this."

"They're simple questions Bells," he argued.

"It doesn't matter; Edward and I didn't come here to be interrogated."

Charlie's lips tightened. "You came here so I could get to know your husband, that's exactly what I'm trying to do."

I stood up abruptly. "Do you want some water Edward?" He shook his head. I turned to Charlie.

"I need something a lot stronger than water," he grumbled, getting up to follow me into the kitchen.

"We'll be right back," I told Edward, lying.

I kept my back to Charlie as I grabbed a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water. I had sensed all afternoon that he'd wanted to get me on my own, I just wasn't sure if I really wanted to hear what he had to say.

When I finally turned away from the sink I saw my father sitting at the table, staring intently down at the can of soda in his hand.

My eyebrows rose in surprise. "No Rainier today?"

"I've been trying not to drink so much," he said quietly. I blinked, hardly believing what I was seeing. My whole life Charlie had had a beer every day after work, with dinner, while watching the game, and sometimes one before he went to bed. He never got drunk—at least not obviously. Mostly, the more he drank the quieter he became, the more tired he seemed, the sadder his eyes got.

I walked over the refrigerator, needing to see the evidence with my own eyes. And to my shock there was no beer, just Tupperware container after Tupperware container of what looked like leftover homemade meals. I pulled the cover off the nearest one and saw some kind of chicken stir-fry. My mouth dropped open.

"Who's been cooking for you?"

Charlie's face reddened and he muttered something incoherent.

"What?" I frowned. "I didn't catch that."

He cleared his throat, his cheeks still a dull tomato color. "I, um, I've been taking cooking classes once a week up in Port Angeles." At my incredulous expression he added, "Sue thought it was a good idea for me to learn to cook."

"Sue?" I repeated, running through all women I knew with that name. "Sue Clearwater?"

Charlie nodded. "Her husband and I were really good friends you know, and after he died I stayed in touch with her. I'd do little things around the house for her if I could… and well, I went over to her house a couple weeks ago and…" he trailed, blushing.

"Wow," was all I could manage to say. I couldn't remember a time in my life when Charlie had gone out on a date—when he'd even been interested in doing so—and now it sounded like he was seriously interested in Sue. He was even taking cooking lessons for her. And he'd given up drinking beer…

"So you're dating?" I clarified. "Is it serious?"

"Yes." A quiet contentment seemed to fill him as he spoke the word.

"That's great dad."

We sat in silence for a few moments, me watching Charlie while he stared out the window at the accumulating clouds. "It's going to rain later this afternoon," he considered. "But he brought you here on his motorcycle anyway, doesn't he know how dangerous it is to be caught in a rainstorm around here?"

I didn't have to ask who he was. "Edward's very careful Charlie. He knows what he's doing."

"Does he Bells? Then please explain to me what happened to your face."

"I already told you it was an accident; I tripped when I was getting out of a kayak. Was Edward supposed to magically be there to catch me?" I shook my head. "It's no big deal."

Charlie's brow rose, his intent gaze met mine. "Is that really what happened?"

I was too stunned to speak. Did Charlie really think that Edward… that he had done that…

My father sighed. "I can't tell you all the excuses I've heard over the years. 'I tripped.' 'I'm clumsy.' 'It's not his fault.' They all say the same things."

"Edward would never—" I was so angry that I couldn't even finish the sentence. I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Edward would never hurt me. Do you think I would stay with him if he did? Is that the kind of daughter you raised?"

"I hope to God that's true, but you've changed a lot the last couple months Bells. I worry sometimes that I don't know who you are anymore." Charlie's shoulders slumped, he rubbed both hands across his forehead. "I ran a background check on him."

"Tell me you didn't!" I cried.

"You are my daughter Bella—you've known this guy, what? A couple months? I had to know what kind of guy he is."

I turned away from him, bracing my myself against the counter. "I can't believe you would do that. You could have just asked me."

"Look, he seems like a nice guy, he really does… but there's something not right with him. When I ran the background check I couldn't find anything—his life seems to have begun when he moved here over a year ago and bought the cottage; before that there's nothing. Did he change his name? Why? What's he hiding from? A felony charge? Child support? Worse?" I heard him stand up from the table. "I know you're mad at, but I'm a cop, this is what I do, especially when it comes to protecting my daughter."

"Why can't you just trust me?"

Charlie didn't speak, but he didn't have to; I already knew what he was thinking. It was the same thing Renee had said to me after I'd told her I'd gotten married. You're just a naïve little girl… And a naïve child can't be trusted to take care of herself, to make the right choices. She needed other people to make the choices for her.

"I know everything I need to know about Edward. I trust him; I know what kind of man he is…. If that's not enough for you then I'm sorry… but it is for me."

Neither of us spoke for a few long minutes after that. I waited for him to tell me I was being stupid, naïve, to bring up the stupid bruise on my face again, but he didn't. Finally, a quiet cough from the doorway broke through the oppressive silence. My head snapped up and I saw Edward standing there, his expression blank.

And just as it always did, his presence immediately filled me with tranquility. It didn't matter what Charlie said, or what he thought—it didn't matter what anyone thought. I smiled at him, my feet automatically moving me towards him, like were magnets.

"We should probably get going," he said, taking hold of my cold hand. "I want to be back before the rain starts."

I smiled at him, nestling into his side. "I'm ready to go home."

We both turned towards Charlie, who was watching our interaction closely. For a brief moment I tried to view us from his perspective: me—smitten, happy, love struck. Edward—calm, quiet, protective. What conclusions would Charlie draw from that? Was that why he was so wary?

Charlie rose to his feet and put out his hand to shake Edward's. "Thank you for coming today."

Edward nodded. "It was good to meet you," he paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "More officially anyway."

"I'll talk to you soon," I told Charlie. I hesitated, then added, "I'm really happy for you, about Sue I mean. I think it's great." And it was true, I'd been afraid that he would never be able to move on after my mother. A little bit of the guilt I'd harbored ever since I'd moved out melted away.

I said goodbye to my father and Edward and I made our way out of the house. With every step I took I felt a little weight leaving my shoulders, like a long exhale after a tense moment. Edward had met Charlie and it had been fairly civil—at least, Charlie hadn't said anything really bad in front of Edward.

Wordlessly, Edward helped me up onto the back of the bike and handed me my jacket. I waited for him to smile, to share in my sense of relief that it was finally over, to make a joke out of it, but he didn't. He moved mechanically as he put on my helmet and tightened the strap beneath my chin, before quickly putting on his own helmet. I frowned at him, wondering why he was being so brusque when he normally he liked to linger through getting me ready.

I frowned at his back as we rode, trying to figure it out… when suddenly the truth came crashing down on me about Edward's strange behavior. The mask was back. It had been so long since I'd seen the tight, completely emotionless expression on his face, since our wedding day in fact, that I hadn't noticed it right away. I hated it even more now than I had then. Then I hadn't known how looked when he was relaxed, when he smiling; when his eyes glinted with amusement, or contentment, or hunger. And now that I knew I couldn't be satisfied with any kind of void. It was simply wrong.

I tightened my arms around his waist. Don't you dare go anywhere Edward Masen. No more masks.

My heart clenched a little painfully with the realization of what he must have heard at Charlie's house.

Fat, wet droplets of water began to fall on us as we rode up the long driveway to the cottage. I didn't go inside straightaway, but to the porch so I could watch Edward as put the Ducati under the lean-to off the shed and covered it with a heavy tarp. Even from a distance I could see the remoteness in his face, the tenseness in his body as he walked down to the dock and stood with his back to me.

It was a beautiful sight: the dark silhouette of his tall, lean body, his reddish-bronze hair bright against the gray mist that covered the lake… Beautiful but austere. Untouchable. Lonely.

But Edward wasn't alone anymore.

I opened the porch door, my clothes and hair instantly dampening from the cold rain, but I hardly felt it. Edward turned when he heard me coming down the path, but his expression didn't alter.

I stopped several feet away from him, feeling warmth race through me despite the temperature outside. "You look almost exactly like you did the first time I ever saw you," I told him, the memories from that day hitting me so hard that the breath left my lungs with a whoosh. "It was raining, and your hair was all wet and kind of falling down over your eyes. You looked so tired."

And I did what I'd wanted to do then but hadn't been brave enough, I closed the gap between us and touched my fingertips to his cheek so I could brush away the rain on his perfect skin. "I wanted to touch you so bad. I didn't even know who you were but it didn't matter. It was instant."

"Why didn't you?" he asked quietly, his green eyes darkening.

"Because I didn't know how. Because I was scared and it was easier to run away." I took a step closer, and gave him a wry smile. "Besides you would have thought I was crazy."

He titled his head, and for the first time a spark of amusement touched his eyes. "Why are you so certain about that?"

I laughed at him. "Please, I bet you never even noticed me until Alice introduced us."

To my shock, Edward shook his head. "No, I remember seeing you before that."

I frowned up at him, my hand instinctively moving to brush away the heavy raindrops on his face with the back of my hand. "When?"

He reached up to take my hand in his, bringing it to his lips so he could kiss each of my fingers, right at the base over the knuckle before twisting it around so he could kiss the delicate inside of my wrist. He held my hand to his face, closing his eyes like he was seeing it all over again. "You were sitting in front of the police station, reading a book; you must have been waiting for your father."

I shook my head. "I don't remember that." I hadn't thought it possible that, as aware of him as I'd been back then, that there might have been times I'd been unaware of him.

"I was sneaky," his mouth lifted at the corner.

What did you think of me? I wanted to ask him. Did you think I was pretty? Why didn't you come up to talk to me?

His mouth lifted higher. "And then there was that day we walked past each other on the sidewalk and you were wearing that dark blue shirt; the sun was full on you it made your hair gleam." He touched the corner of my lips with the pad of his thumb. "You gave me that little witchy smile. It was right before we met…"

"Now that I remember." I moved closer to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. I breathed a sigh of relief when I looked up at his face, seeing instantly that the mask was gone. I buried my face into his shoulder.

"You heard what my dad said, didn't you?" I asked after a little while.

His arms tightened slightly. "Yes," he sighed.

"I'm sorry; Charlie shouldn't have said any of those things." I felt Edward's shoulders move in a shrug.

"He cares about you. I understand that he thought he was doing what's best for you."

I scowled into his jacket. "He has a funny way of showing it."

After a beat, Edward added, "I heard what you said about me too. No one's ever had that kind of confidence in me before."

I looked back up at him, my scowl deepening. "I know you would never hurt me."

"No, I wouldn't," he agreed, lightly brushing his fingertips against the bruise on my cheek. "But what about the rest of it? The felony and the child support—or worse." He smiled at me—a real smile, slow and warm. It was his first true smile of the day. "I could be dangerous."

"It's like you said—what's life without a little danger?" I teased, moving onto my tiptoes so I could kiss him. Still, I added silently, I don't believe there's anything the littlest bit dangerous about you. Whatever you're running from, it's nothing like that.

Edward looked at me closely. "You're really not curious about it, are you?"

I shrugged, shaking my head. "No, I'm not."

Edward considered me for a few long seconds. There was something in his expression, something a little bewildered and slightly amused. "Somehow I believe you," he paused, a wide smile spreading across his face. "I've never known anyone like you before Isabella Swan. Come on, let's go inside, it's freezing out here."

Thanks for all the reviews, recommendations, and support guys, you're the best ;-) I promise, no matter how long it takes me to update, I won't give up writing this story ;-)

~Rosybud