Disclaimer: I own nothing but Copward's weapon.

"There's a new shipment that came in last night. Everything just needs to be unpacked and folded, or hung up. I know it's a pain in the ass, but luckily it doesn't happen more than a few times a month."

I nod and follow Alice into the back of the store, glad for the task that's sure to keep me busy for most of the day.

After getting pretty much no sleep (instead, I stayed up most of the night in Charlie's room and tried to keep myself busy), I'd gotten here early this morning. Last night, I found that as long as I kept moving, the tears fell less often. This morning I still feel numb, but I'm here. Hopefully the trend will continue, and I'll keep myself together today... if I can just stay productive.

Alice makes her way into the break room and starts pulling mugs from the shelf above where she's got one of those fancy coffee makers that do everything for you. All you have to do is set a timer and make sure there's grounds in the filter before you leave and it's ready when you are; not the other way around. She pours two cups of fresh brew and adds the perfect amount of sugar and cream.

Alice hands me a mug and I take a sip, looking forward to the jolt I know it will bring. The burn that trickles down my throat doesn't help with the empty, hollow feeling in my stomach (or the one in my chest). It does, however, remind me that I'm alive, even though I feel anything but. I'm completely wiped out.

I stare down into the dark liquid, feeling lost.

Last night after Edward left, I stood there in the same spot listening as the back door closed softly and tried to tell myself I'd done the right thing by asking him to leave. I heard his footsteps as he moved down the steps out back, and then I waited in silence. I expected to hear the engine of his truck turn over, but it was quiet after that.

For long minutes, I didn't move. I waited for him to leave me. All the while, I knew he was still outside, still close. And the thing I wanted more than anything in the world was to run after him, beg him to stay with me.

But I couldn't. I was the one who'd asked him to go, and he did it. For me.

I realized he'd done a lot for me, and all I'd done is make his life more difficult. I had to force myself to stay in place. Not to go after him.

I stared down at the mess of blankets on the floor, the last part of him that remained. The same ones he'd helped me put on just a few weeks before. I bent down and wrapped my arms around everything, with every intention of dragging myself to the bed and falling into it. I never made it. Instead, I buried my face into the blankets and melted into them as my heart cracked open.

With my eyes closed; I swore I could still smell him.

It only brought a small amount of comfort.

That was when the tears began to fall, soaking the blankets as I pushed myself deeper into the mess. I thought maybe I could get lost in them; that maybe I could bury myself inside the cocoon of cotton and just forget everything.

It was fruitless. I couldn't do it. I couldn't stop thinking. My mind jumped, snapped, shifted... like it had whiplash or something. Edward. Renee. Charlie. Edward. Renee. Charlie.

But it kept returning to Edward. To how it felt when he pulled his lips away from mine and stopped the kiss. To how he looked when I'd asked him to leave...

Of everything that happened, and what I've done to him... That's what I regret the most. I shouldn't have done what I did without having the courage and conviction to back it up. I should have been able to handle his rejection.

Alice snaps her fingers and my head snaps up. "Bella! What's wrong with you today?"

"Nothing," I lie. I don't want to talk to her about this. Or anyone for that matter. Not yet anyway. "Sorry, just kind of spaced out for a second."

I'm trying my best to look positive, but when she shrugs and gives me a smile I recognize as patronizing, I know she knows I'm full of shit.

"Ready to get to work?" she asks.

I nod and follow her as she skips off to the small storage room opposite the break room.

She gets right into it like usual, zipping around and making messes here, there and everywhere. When she points to the counter, I take over at a rack and start hanging dresses as she rips the plastic away and passes them across the table. Soon, we fall into a rhythm, and it isn't until I hear the radio switch on and Alice's soft voice singing along that I realize how quiet it is.

Still, I try my best to tune her out.

My head is still all over the place with everything that's going on in my life outside this store. I know I should feel some sense of pride that for once I didn't allow myself to crumble under the weight of my mom's judgment (like I have so many times in the past). I know I should be proud that I stood up to her, and that now... it's over. I should be happy that I don't have to worry about her ambushing me again.

…I just can't be.

Because while I may have held strong in front of her, I know now, the crumbling that happened afterward was epic.

After crying my eyes out last night, I forced myself up off the floor. I went back into Charlie's room and finished boxing everything that I could, just like Edward and I had intended to do. I'm still not sure when he left because I didn't allow myself to go in search of him.

I was – am – so damn ashamed of myself for what I did to Edward, for the position I put him in. I figured it was the least I could do. Not only did he have to stand by and witness the depth of disdain Renee apparently has for Charlie, but he also witnessed me at my lowest point ever. And then he saw me go even lower when I tried to kiss him.

I'll be lucky if he ever talks to me again.

And I know... that is why my chest feels so empty. I hadn't realized just how much he's begun to mean to me.

It wasn't fair for me to try to use him the way I did and I'm still not sure what possessed me to even attempt it. I stomped around Charlie's room last night, and I'd wanted so badly to be angry with him. I kept asking myself the same thing over and over again, hoping for a different answer: What kind of guy stops a girl from trying to kiss him?

No matter how many times I hoped for it to change, the answer I knew in my heart was always the same. It just took me a while to accept it.

Only the best kind of guy would have done what he did.

At least one of us had their head on straight. I'm glad he had the presence of mind to push me away. Who knows what would have happened if he hadn't?

But now, I don't know what to do. I'm embarrassed beyond belief and I'm unsure how I'm going to ever be able to face him again. I don't know if there's a way I can apologize for this. I'm not sure if things can go back to the way they were.

I can hope... And I will try, because I know now that I can pretty much make it through anything.

Alice and I stay busy through lunchtime, taking turns going to the front when a customer comes into the store. When I finally look up at the clock on the wall, I notice it's already after one. Alice floats back to the room after ringing up one of the customers and has that glow she usually gets when she knows Jasper is going to stop by.

I hold my breath, staring at her... because if Jasper's coming, Edward could be with him. My stomach feels like it's folding in on itself. I'm not ready yet! I want to shout at her, but I know she won't understand. Or maybe she will. Who knows if she's spoken to him.

She could know everything that's happened between us.

"Jas is going to stop by after lunch," she finally says, and I let out a heavy breath.

"Okay," I mumble, fidgeting with the dress in my hands. I'll just leave before they get here. They can't stay that long, right?

Not a minute later, I hear the bell ring out front, followed quickly by the familiar pounding of boots I've come to recognize so well. I freeze mid-hang, half tempted to run to the bathroom. To hide or empty the non-existent contents of my stomach, I'm not sure. I suck in a breath and hold it.

"Sweetcheeks, you in the back?" Jasper's calls out across the store, his southern drawl curling around the words.

Alice looks over at me and smiles, big and bright and full of love. She turns toward the door. "Yeah, Babe."

Jasper appears from around the corner. I hold my breath, preparing. On his heels I hear someone approach and I search for a familiar head of messy penny colored hair. For those strong shoulders and my favorite hands – hands that protected me, but also, hands that pushed me away – but what I find isn't them.

Behind Jasper stands a short guy. He barely reaches his shoulders. He's skinny and his messy hair isn't appealing in the same way as Edward's. He seriously looks like he needs a bath and a haircut. Both men are in full uniform, which doesn't make sense to me. I thought Edward was Jasper's partner?

"Afternoon, Ladies," Jasper says, smiling at me as Alice folds herself into his arms.

I give a small wave as Alice detaches from Jasper and reaches up to flick the skinny guy's ear. "James."

"Brandon," the skinny guy – James, I guess – answers.

"You know I'm not Brandon anymore, asswipe. Get it right." Alice turns away from him and rolls her eyes dramatically. "I've been Whitlock for about four years now."

"Why isn't Edward with you?" I blurt out, and then reach up to cover my mouth.

Jasper opens his mouth but before he can talk, James laughs. "Edward?" he says. "Masen's not riding anything these days but a desk."

I've heard this phrase before, possibly on a television crime-drama or something. Instantly I wonder what Edward would have done to be taken off of patrol, or if he's having such a bad time of things that he was put there for his own good. And then I wonder why he hasn't said anything about it to me.

Technically I know why he hasn't: we're not so close that he feels the need to spill his guts to me. Still, I want to be there for him like he has been for me. Jasper glares as he turns in James' direction. "Keep your mouth shut, Rookie."

He says the last word with so much venom, even I shrink away. Alice interrupts the conversation by not so covertly trying to change the subject.

"So, did you guys have lunch at the Haven?"

The group seems to fall into an easy conversation then. I let the subject drop, because it's clear there's something they don't want me to know. I excuse myself after a few minutes, claiming I need to get back to work. I retreat to the front of the store, their voices and laughter trailing after me. What I really want to do is walk back there, stop them, and demand someone tell me what's going on. But is it any of my business? If there were something Edward wanted me to know, he would have told me himself, right?

Jasper and James come out, waving and offering me goodbyes. Alice seems quiet when she returns to the front of the store. I catch her a few times, looking at me from the corner of her eyes like she's trying to read me.

Finally, after the fourth time, I snap. "What?"

"Nothing," she replies, too casual for my taste.

I grip the shirt in my hands tightly and look at her. I want to know what the hell is going on. Setting the shirt on the rack, I cross my arms over my chest and continue to stare at her.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

"No I don't."

"Tell me then. What did he mean?"

"Who?"

She's playing dumb. I sigh in frustration.

"James. What did he mean about Edward 'riding a desk'?"

Alice looks down at the floor and pulls a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, taking one out of the box. "I think you should ask Edward about that."

I narrow my eyes at her, trying to hide the shiver that runs all over my body at the thought of seeing him again. Of having to ask him anything, let alone talk to him. I ruined everything.

I blow out a breath. "Okay, fine."

I turn around and return to work, annoyed. She's obviously not going to tell me anything, and if I push, she could tell him. I don't need to add more embarrassment to the pile that I've already created. If he wanted me to know these things, he definitely would have told me himself.

Right?

The rest of the day passes quietly. I'm fairly certain Alice is afraid to talk, because she's scared she'll tell me something she shouldn't. I'm torn between begging her to tell me everything and being angry that she hasn't. I don't have any idea what I want.

When I get home, the house feels emptier than it ever has before. It's too quiet. Too dark. It makes me want to scream. I'm tempted to turn on music at full blast and I don't know... I just need noise.

What I really need is to not feel so alone, so empty.

There are eight light switches in the house. I make sure to turn on every single one, and then I move to the television and turn it on, too. I crank the volume to twenty three before I toss the remote back to the coffee table. It's so loud that the speaker crackles, but it doesn't stop me from hearing the knock at the back door.

My heart is pounding out a heavy rhythm and I freeze. I try my best to stay completely still. Not breathing, not moving. Maybe if I don't move, whoever it is will go away. It could be anyone. It could be my mother... It could be Edward.

"Bella?"

My heart jumps into my throat when I hear his familiar, calm voice.

The back door shuts and I can feel Edward's footsteps through my bare feet. I still haven't moved. I did tell him he didn't have to knock, but I didn't expect this... Every light in the house is on, and the television is blaring. For just a brief second, I consider the option of hiding and trying to make him believe I'm not here. I remind myself quickly that I can't do that. I've hidden too much.

He rounds the corner of the workroom out back, his keys spinning in a circle around his finger. He stops at the sight of me. For just that few seconds his keys are the only thing in the room still moving. I know I'm breathing. I can hear the beats of my heart cracking like thunder in my ears, but to anyone else, we both probably look like statues.

Finally, Edward cocks his head a little. The messy strands of his hair fall across his forehead and he reaches up to swipe them back, holding them in place as he stares at me.

I haven't had time to work out the things I want to say to him. This is a big conversation we need to have. The part of me that needs order is flailing about with nothing to grasp onto. What do I say? What do I do?

"Bella?" he says, louder this time. I assume it's to be heard over the baseball game. I probably look like someone caught with their pants down. Or a deer in headlights.

Shaking my arms, I try my best to look more casual. "What are you doing here?" I croak out over the sound of the announcer (who congratulates number twenty three on his homerun exuberantly).

He pulls a little on the hair in his hand. "I, uh..."

He doesn't say anything else, just stares at me. He's looking at me so intensely... I don't know what to do or say or how to act around him now. I'm not even sure I still remember how to breathe properly. I close my eyes and drop my face to the floor. The image of his hair sticking up in all those directions, of his lips – those warm, warm, warm lips – burns behind my eyes, and it's all just... too much.

I'm reminded of the fact that it's not just the nerves or the embarrassment I feel anymore when I'm near him. It's this mixture of fear and emotion... something that could have turned into love eventually. If I hadn't screwed things up.

There's this war going on inside me. I want him close but, at the same time, my wounded pride still wants to push him away. I don't know how to handle it because I've never felt like this before.

"I came by..." he interrupts my little internal battle. "To see if you were okay. Are you... I mean, uh... okay?"

My mouth opens. Closes. Opens. He must sense that I can't speak, so he goes on like nothing's changed between us.

"I brought some more boxes. I thought maybe we could finish up?"

So that's why he really came. For Charlie's things...

The thought makes my chest ache and my shoulders fall.

"I finished it. Last night... pretty much everything is done."

"Oh." He looks around, down toward the hallway and I follow his gaze. "Do you want me to take it?"

"Sure," I say. I nod toward the hall. "If you want."

He takes a few more steps in my direction, coming through the dining room until we're face-to-face. His eyes are so green, sparkling in the bright lights above our heads. I want to reach out and touch him; it looks like he wants the same thing. But I don't. He doesn't either.

"I guess I'll just..." he trails off slowly, and then he takes a step backward into the hallway, burying his hands in his pockets. He doesn't turn until he's at Charlie's door and he's forced to.

I breathe a sigh of relief, grateful for the time to sort things out in my head first. I grab the remote, turn the television down, and head for the kitchen. My hands grip the counter and I suck in several deep breaths, trying to straighten myself out so I can face him when he comes back out.

"I think we should talk."

I jump at his voice right behind me, straightening until I'm stiff as a board. Instead of facing him, I turn to the fridge so he can't see my face. I didn't even hear him come back. Pulling open the fridge, I grab a bottle of water and twist off the cap. I take a few quick swigs from it and then turn to him slowly.

His hands are still buried deep in his pockets. It's like he did the same thing as me: stepped away to collect himself for a minute. Shaking his head, he looks down at his boots. He breathes deeply, shoulders rising and falling once, twice. A third time.

I reach up and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. He's right – we do need to talk.

"What do you want to talk about?" I ask stupidly, trying to buy myself some time to think about what I need to say.

"Really?" he asks sharply, pulling his hands from his pockets and crossing his arms over his chest. Angry Edward is a little hot. Okay… a lot.

"Fine, I know what you want to talk about. I'm just not sure what I should say," I reply, trying to keep my voice level.

He stares at me quietly and then shakes his head with a sigh. "Why did you push me away, Bella?"

I stare at him. I'd like to remind him that he pushed first, but did I really give him any other choice?

"I'm... I didn't mean to," I return.

"But you did."

He looks so… broken. I did that. I take another drink of my water and look away from the sad look on his face. I know I owe him an explanation for what I did and why I made him leave.

"It was wrong. I— just wanted something. I wanted to feel good. It was stupid... I was wrong to think it would be okay to do that to you. I'm so sorry," I whisper the last three words, hoping he'll be able to pick up the sincerity.

"You didn't answer my question. Why did you push me away?"

"It was better. For both of us."

"Says who?" he asks, his voice determined and strong.

I shrug. "Me? I don't know!" I shout, tears beginning to burn in my eyes. "I don't know how, after what you saw last night... after what my mother did. After what Idid, you wouldn't want to run far, far away from me, Edward. I thought... I don't know. I was embarrassed and I just... thought it was what you would want."

He growls deep down in his throat, like he's annoyed. "You don't get it, do you?" He looks up at the ceiling and then back at me. "I couldn't run away from you even if I wanted to." I open my mouth to interrupt, but he goes on, "And I don't want to."

"I don't know what you want..." I admit.

I don't exactly know what I want either, for that matter. But I refuse to tell him that.

"For starters," he says. "I'd like to know what the hell happened to that brave ass girl I met four weeks ago. The same one who got smacked in the face with something huge and didn't let me give her any shit. I'd also really love to see the girl who stood right there," he points to the living room, "last night, and told her mother to get the fuck out of her house."

Every word is serious, like he means it and he wants me to believe in him.

I want him to believe in me, too.

"But what I want the most," he whispers, waiting until my eyes are on his to continue, "is for you to never do that to me again. I want that girl back. I know she's still in there, can you ask her to come out?"

"Edward..." I say, drawing his name out and fighting against the smile his words inspire. I don't know how he does this. How he manages to put me at ease so quickly. All I know is that what he's saying is making the butterflies in my stomach feel like they're competing in some kind of race, and I like it.

He steps closer to me and drops his arms to his sides. My cheeks twitch and I finally let go, allowing the happiness – the ease, to return. With him so near, I can smell him – all clean boy and just.. Edward. And I swear I can feel the warmth of his body in every part of me.

He lifts one hand to my shoulder and keeps his eyes on mine. His cheeks lift slowly until his face matches mine.

I breathe a sigh of relief. "I'm so sorry," I tell him again. "I wasn't fair to you."

He shrugs one shoulder and ducks down low, and then his smile turns dazzling. "I can't say I'm all that upset about the beginning... it was the end that got me."

"Shut up," I mutter, blushing and looking down at the floor.

He laughs. "Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"I need you to understand that what I did last night wasn't because I didn't want it to happen," he says, his voice full of smooth sexiness. "Just... not like that, okay? Not because of her."

I look up slowly and a heavy breath escapes my lips. My stomach twists tighter, while my heart... it feels like it's opening. Like a flower blooming for the first time on a sunny day.

He lifts his hand to my cheek and traces a finger beneath my eyes, down the slope of my nose and then with the very tip of his finger, he slides it across my lip. First the top, then the bottom.

"I meant what I said," he murmurs, his gaze shifting between my lips and my eyes. His hand slides back to cup my cheek. I nuzzle into his palm, enjoying the comfort. His gaze stays on mine, all golden-green and serious. "I'm not going anywhere."

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