Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.

Beta'd by HollettLA.

Offbeat

Chapter Fourteen: Here I am

Sometimes, events conspire to change your life.

A teacher told me that once; I think it was seventh grade. I don't know about the conspiring part. It seems to me that a lot of it is just fate or luck.

But for most people . . . it's a lack of luck.

"Ah…fuck," I groaned, my body stiffening as I held Bella's ass to me tightly. With every buck of her hips, her tits would jiggle, and the look on her face as she rode me . . . "You feel so good, Bella." I sat up, still hugging her close while my lips trailed everywhere.

Bella moaned, tossing her head back, her eyes fluttering to a close.

Her skin was soft, like silk and yet slick with sweat as our bodies rocked together. She was gorgeous, fucking sexy as hell, and her pussy was soaked.

"One more," I mumbled, kissing her deep.

My thumb found her clit to draw circles, and her body trembled, eyes meeting mine.

My breath caught, pulling her onto me faster, harder.

Our momentum continued to build until Bella let out a strangled cry—muted by my mouth. "You like coming on my dick, right?" I bit her jaw, my hands roaming up to her shoulders.

She whimpered in agreement, catching her breath.

"Beautiful…" I palmed her cheek, turning us over so that she was on her back.

Bella clawed at my shoulders, her legs widening even more, and I leaned away—resting back on my calves as I held hers apart. She was open, displayed for me, and the visual—Christ, she was perfect.

I fucked her fast and hard, my cock digging deeper with each stroke until I couldn't take it anymore—until the pleasure of being inside her caused me to explode.

Stiffening as I came, I continued to hold her feet in the air. "Fuck….I love you. I love you. I love you—" Pausing, my breaths still labored, my lips lingered on the arch of her foot. My heart was pumping—threatening to burst through my chest.

Not only because of how hard I came, but because of my words . . .

They just spilled out.

Fuck me.

Whatever the reason—luck, fate, or lack thereof—it's pretty much true that your life can change with the blink of an eye, no matter which event conspires.

And you never see it coming.

"Um…" I swallowed, my mouth dry as I grasped my dick, making sure I had the condom to pull out.

Bella smiled brightly up to me, reaching to palm my face. "It was that good, huh?"

I furrowed my brow and lay next to her. "No…I mean, yes, it was great." I kissed her shoulder. "But, I-I meant it...what I said." Now my stomach was a knotted mess, but I couldn't take those words back. I did mean them, and I didn't say them just because . . . when we fuck . . . Jesus.

There are no words for that.

"Oh…you did?" Bella's gaze fell away from me.

Confused, I sat up to stare down to her.

Don't women jump for joy when they hear that? Get on the horn and gush to their friends? And if she returned the sentiment, wouldn't she have said it back?

Suddenly, I felt like an idiot.

"Yeah…I meant it." I nodded, watching as Bella left the bed to get dressed.

We were still in my bedroom. Bella didn't have school yesterday, nor does she have class today, but I do have to work. I'll be dropping her off at home before I head to the house. That night, three of the rape victims identified the skell we had in custody, with Black in attendance. They all chose the same one. He was gone—locked away and awaiting trial. As it turned out, the profiler was correct. He'd been locked away for years, for the same crime, and he was just out four days. Fucko lasted four days until he went on a spree, and that's some sick shit.

Yesterday, I called out sick just to play hooky with my girl. We went for lunch. I gave her a private concert on my keyboard after dinner, and then we watched a movie. It was a calm day, a relaxing one, and Bella's anxiety ebbed—stayed away.

Nothing was amiss.

We both needed a day to relax.

Everything was going great, it seemed, until I uttered those words . . . words that I believe might have just changed my life.

This is new to me. It's all new to me, and I didn't know how…to proceed.

"It's okay if you don't…feel the same." I pulled my boxers back on.

Bella stepped into her sweats, staring at the floor.

"Bella?" Afraid I might have upset her, I grabbed her hand. "It's no big deal—"

"It's a huge deal." She rasped, quick to clear her throat. "I've loved you…for a long time. I just never expected you to love me back."

"What?" I beamed, my arms enveloping her in a tight hug. "You love me." And I think a large part of me has known that for quite some time.

"Yes." She nodded, stepping back. "I thought…" She was quiet for a beat too long, and Bella never holds out on me.

"You thought?" I prompted.

She pushed out of my embrace to plop onto the bed, and she remained silent while she placed her hair into a ponytail.

"Bella…" I sat next to her, holding her hand. "We can just—" I wanted to pretend I didn't say anything.

For whatever reason, I didn't feel embarrassed, just sad? A little stupid?

"You can't take it back," she whispered. "I can't take it back either because it's the truth. I do love you, Edward."

I chuckled and kissed her cheek. "I—Bella, I love you, too."

She quickly became my best friend before we started dating, started kissing the way she kisses me, before we'd had sex.

"I wanted to save you, like you saved me." Her eyes whipped up to mine. "You seemed lost...a lonely, lost hero."

I didn't know how to reply to that.

"I thought we'd date, and then when we broke up, I'd be heartbroken but it'd be my problem."

I shook my head. "What are you talking about?"

She stood up to scoop her sneakers on. "I have a plan—to finish school and get my master's. You…might want to get married and have babies, and I can't."

"Whoa!" I shouted, her words scaring me again, but it was also funny. "I'm…nowhere near ready to get married and have babies. Just like you…well, no. Bella, I didn't plan anything, but if one day…" Once more, I didn't know how to continue.

"But I do have a plan." She placed her hand on her chest.

I nodded. "And you go by the book…just like I do with certain things." I shrugged, at a loss. "I can't predict the future…" It was only when Bella shot it down that I actually thought about it—the future, marriage, babies, and the whole nine. "Getting married, starting a family…that's a long way off. You're twenty. I'm twenty-three. This is just as new to me." I sat back down, placing my hands on my knees.

"But why couldn't you do both?" I asked. "You finish school. You get whichever million degrees you want, and I'll be along for the ride, and then…later on…Why couldn't you get married or have a child?"

She folded her arms across her chest to stare out the window. "If we have a child…there's a chance he or she could be like me."

I barely heard her, and now her words angered me, but I meant what I said—marriage and things like that are way off since I'd never given them any real thought either.

"So, what if our child is like you?" The distance between us was killing me once again, and I reached for her hand. Bella didn't protest, standing rigid between my thighs. "Bella, you're wonderful." I placed a kiss on her stomach. "You're gorgeous and smart—"

"You don't understand." She was wrong.

"I do…" I still couldn't see anything wrong with my Bella. She had a bad time two nights ago, and she's been her regular self since. "The other night…you were allowed to be upset, especially after what you—yourself—have gone through. Most other chicks would have been distraught, but not you. You cleaned up the place." I widened my arms, smiling. "It wasn't necessary, but it also wasn't a big deal."

"Your ignorance is sweet." She held my face.

"My ignorance?" I quirked a brow.

She gulped, her shoulders drooping and her face falling.

"Why am I not allowed to love you?" I stood up, nuzzling my nose to hers. "What's so bad about it?" Loving Bella has been the most exciting, most exhilarating, and the most satisfying adventure I've ever been on. She drives me crazy, and…I love her, and I don't know what the future holds, but I do hope she's there—in it.

Bella grinned. "Nothing…I'm worried about nothing. We're young. All that stuff…"

"It's far away," I said, my hands roaming down to her ass. "I love you."

She smiled wide, giggling and burying her head into my chest. Then she sighed as her eyes met mine. "I love you, too."

"Good." I rubbed her back, feeling relief wash over me. "Good." A weight had been lifted from my shoulders. "Wanna get some lunch before I take you home?" I nipped those lips.

"I'm not hungry, but . . ." She bent low to kiss me deeply. Our tongues tangled as I collapsed back with her in my arms.

My hands explored her curves, a grunt escaping me. "What'd'ju get dressed for?" I murmured into her mouth.

She giggled, rolling over to pull me on top of her. "So, you could undress me . . . again."

I nodded, smiling wide. "I don't mind…not one bit." I nibbled her earlobe, eliciting this sexy moan that drove me wild. She wrapped her legs around my hips, and I pushed against her.

"I love you," she breathed.

I leaned back to pull her top off. "Good."

Landing a loud smooch on those lips, I paused to lie at her side, gathering her into my arms, and I didn't want to let her go.

/=/=/=/=/

My sector was the same as it's always been. As we patrolled the streets, it was almost as though the other day never happened—that there had never been a serial rapist on the loose. I booked two drunks and a dude with a mean right hook who was involved with a domestic disturbance—all before seven p.m.

There were no surprises, nothing.

It felt good, having shit go back to normal.

"What's up with you?" Whitlock grabbed his food from the counter. With some downtime, we just so happened to be at the Chinese spot for dinner.

"Nothing." I opened my can of soda, quick to take a sip.

When my food was ready, I grabbed it and turned for the table. Whitlock followed, and I felt his eyes on me. "What?" I asked.

He smirked. "What's different about you?"

My eyes widened, and I continued to smile. "Nothing."

"Bullshit," he hissed.

"What's bullshit?" McCarty laughed.

I ignored them both, taking a seat near Black, which was shocking.

"Oh, I get it." McCarty nudged Whitlock. "Cullen and his boo-boo were holed up all day yesterday and then today." He punched the air, and that angered me. "All that pussy…" He whistled.

"Fuck you!" I snapped.

Pussy is pussy, and on the regular I'd be down to speak of such things, but talking about Bella's pussy? I was heated.

"What the fuck?" McCarty grilled me.

"Keep your mouth shut," I warned.

"Dude—" Black massaged my shoulder "—take it easy."

My body was still stiff, angry for reasons unknown to me, and I wasn't hungry anymore.

Without another word, I left the table to throw my dinner into the trash can.

Then I left the restaurant.

As the seconds ticked by, I calmed down, and I just so happened to be in front of Bella's building.

Nevertheless, I wasn't going to disturb her. I had to keep myself in check. Just because it's easy to see her during my tour doesn't mean I should. She'd distract me, and thinking of that made me smile.

Bella's grin, her giggle, her kisses—her.

My happiness disappeared quickly while . . . confusion set in.

Bella was controlling my life again.

Everything I wanted to do included her in some way.

Who was I?

What was I doing?

"Hey…" Whitlock pushed me, and I whipped around to raise my fist. "Chill." He grabbed onto my shirt and gave me a shake. "What's up with you?"

I groaned, taking off my hat to mess my hair. "I don't know."

He chuckled. "Oh..." He had that knowing tone, like McCarty did minutes prior. "Cullen's been bitten by the love bug."

"Shut up."

"Just go with the flow, bro. Shit isn't that serious, but good for you." Whitlock nodded, bopping his head while his foot tapped against the concrete—creating a rhythm.

I rolled my eyes, knowing he was about to break out in song, but before I went back to my RMP, I peeped him ring Bella's bell. "Leave 'em alone. We're—"

"Yeah?" Alice asked.

Whitlock was still dancing, and now his finger was pressed on the intercom. "Spending my day...thinkin' 'bout you, girl," he sang, and it wasn't his usual muted voice. "Being here with you, being near with you…I can't explain myself," Whitlock belted that shit out. "Why I feel like I do…Though it hurts me so…to let you know that I look in your eyes...to let me know how you feel…"

A small crowd was gathering as they all watched him, and that's when I noticed both Alice and Bella were hanging out their living room window.

"Let me know that love is really real. And it seems to me…that I'm wrapped up in your love." Whitlock blew a kiss up to Alice, and she squealed, stars in her eyes.

I caught Bella's gaze with my own, and I lifted my hand in greeting.

"Hey—" the owner of the Chinese restaurant flagged me with a white rag "—frash'a mob?" His accent was thick, and I didn't catch that.

"Hey, ah-ha, ah, ah, ah, ah…" Whitlock was getting down, putting some soul into that shit. "Hey, ah-ha. Don't you know that I'm still in love, in love with you…Sho' 'nuff in love with you…Say I try it if you want me to. Ah-ha, ah-ha, aah, ah, ah, ah!" He ended with a chuckle, staring up to their apartment.

"Frash'a mob?" that dude asked again.

"Huh?" I shook my head.

"Flash mob." Black chuckled, sidling up to me. "No…Officer Whitlock just…likes to sing?" He looked to me.

I shrugged, leaning back on the RMP. "Your tax dollars at work."

"That was awesome!" Alice shouted.

Whitlock blew her another kiss.

"Encore!" Alice used her fingers to whistle.

I winced, hoping he wouldn't, my eyes finding Bella again.

"Love you." She mouthed.

Sighing through a smile, I placed my hand on my heart—a silent declaration.

No matter my confusion, my feelings were still my feelings.

Nothing had changed from earlier.

"I get it." Black was staring up, too, and it seemed like everyone understands me but me; however, Jake wasn't talking about me. "I know McCarty wasn't being a prick, though." As if he heard his name, Emmett came strolling out of the restaurant.

"What's all this?" He looked around to the few pedestrians on the sidewalk and then to Jasper. "You singin' again?" McCarty grimaced, hauling ass back to his car. "Let's go. We got police work to do!"

Whitlock took off his hat to bow, and then he took off, throwing me a wink before he entered his squad.

"Let Central know we're 10-98," I told Black, waiting for him to walk away.

Once he was gone, I just smiled up to Bella—not sure what to say, or if anything needed to be said.

She was actually first to leave, giving me a small wave before closing her window.

Huh...

/=/=/=/=/

Toward the end of our shift, 78 Alpha requested backup, and we were fast to respond.

Whitlock and McCarty were searching a small group of young guys who sat on a stoop—three men to be exact, and I wondered why they needed backup.

But then I saw Whitlock just standing off to the side, the position of their RMP, half on the sidewalk, and McCarty was driving . . . This was his bust, busting up their little party. The bottles of Heineken resting on the steps weren't concealed, their boom box blasting some hip-hop.

When I approached, I turned the music off. "Go." I jerked my head, telling Black to help McCarty. "What's this?" I asked Jasper.

He just shook his head, extending his hand, gesturing and speechless. It was obvious he didn't agree with his partner.

Truth be told, whenever we'd roll together and see a scene like this, we'd tell whoever to pack it up and move on—disperse and go home. It's Friday night, damn near summer. Hell, if I had friends and no air conditioner, I'd likely find myself doing the same thing on weekends.

"Racist, no-neck prick!" one shouted at McCarty.

Emmett cackled as he continued to pat the perp down. "Oh…what's this?" He showed us a Ziplock bag with weed in it.

"It's just a little bud, man." The kid complained. "If I was white, smoking a joint—"

"This look like a joint?" McCarty shoved the bag in his face. "This looks like possession with intent to distribute, right, Black?"

"That's not my name." The perp, who was black, turned to face him.

"Hands behind your head!" McCarty shouted. "And I was speaking to Officer Black."

"Nice to meet you." Black patted that dude's back, quickly going back over to his friend to search him.

"You believe this?" Whitlock whispered.

I didn't reply.

The guys were calm, none looked like flight risks, and so I was content to stand back—stand by in case either officer needed anything.

"Oh, shit!" Black shouted, pulling a .45 from his perp's ankle.

"Now that's interesting." Whitlock stepped forward.

I placed my hand on my holster, ready to draw if need be.

"Who else is packin'?" Whitlock asked.

No one answered him.

"Where'd you get this?" Jasper asked the kid. "Tell me where I can get one, and I'll see what I can do for you."

"I ain't tellin' you shit!"

Whitlock nodded. "All right . . ." And he continued to handcuff him, reciting his Miranda rights.

In the end, we wound up bringing all three men back to the house. The one we had in the back wasn't under formal arrest. He hadn't done anything except chill with two dudes—one who had a gun and one who had the pot—but the four of us wanted to know where the heat came from, possibly where they got the weed.

Arms, drug dealers on our turf . . . hey, we wanna know.

And all of us love a good bust.

Believe it or not, we did nothing wrong. The beer bottles provided enough probable cause to search them—loitering in front of a building that they didn't live in.

The arrest was by the book, even hauling this dude in just to let him go in a few hours.

"We didn't do nothin', man!" The one with empty pockets bitched behind us. His name was Kenny, and he's only seventeen, which—in the state of New York—makes him an adult. "We were just chillin'."

"With illegal narcotics and a gun." Black chuckled, staring back to him.

"Level with us," I said. "Those are your friends, right? Tell us where we can get more of what you got, and we'll see what we can do."

"Fuck you. I didn't do nothing. Youse can't pin shit on me—"

I smirked in my rearview. "You were resisting arrest—"

"Hell no!" he hollered.

"Yeah, this kid was pretty hostile." Black winced, blowing a kiss back to Kenny. "A young stud like you—the bastards at Rikers are gonna love you."

"You're a fuckin' sellout!" he shouted at Jake. "Whatta you, a 'Rican? Youse a man'a color, and you're siding with the man—"

I threw my head back to laugh.

But Black had nothing to say back. He actually fastened his seatbelt. "Waffle," he said.

The smile stayed on my face as I sped up only to stop short, making Kenny's face slam into the fenced partition. "Fuck! You did that on purpose."

"You didn't see that dog?" I pointed, turning left toward the station. "Last chance…" It was a bluff.

Kenny groaned. "Weed's a cultural thing and this city would be so much better if we didn't have bigoted cops—fucking pigs running the streets!" he ranted.

"It's not a cultural thing," Black laughed. "Until congress passes some new laws in New York, marijuana's still an illegal narcotic—do-rags and rap are cultural things. You gonna tell me that gat had something to do with your heritage, too?" he spoke of the gun.

"One day…me and my peoples…we're gonna rise up against the man. You hear me?" Kenny was talking to me. Unfortunately for him, I wasn't going to give him the rise he sought.

"And we'll be there to smack ya's back down," Black said. "Just for the record, I'm not Hispanic. I'm Native American, and if you wanna go blow for blow—to see whose 'peoples' had it worse, I'm all ears."

I nodded, reaching over to give Jake a fist pound. That was awesome, I thought.

Kenny sucked his teeth. "What'chu wanna know, man?"

"Where'd you get the gun?" I asked.

"'S'not mine, all right? Did you find it on me?" He snapped.

"Where'd your friend get the gun?" I reiterated.

"My boy Zero…he live on 99th Street and Third."

"What's his real name?" Black inquired, scribbling shit in his notepad.

Kenny was quiet again.

Since the street was clear, I quickly made a U-turn. "You're gonna show us where he lives."

"Fuck." Kenny slumped low in his seat. "You gotta do this with me? Drop me off at lock-up first."

"Show us where he lives, and I'll take the cuffs off…let you go." I smiled.

"For real?" he sat up, leaning to the front.

I nodded. "You have my word."

"We're not bringing him in?" Black asked, his tone laced with surprise.

"Well, we'll see." I shrugged. "What's this Zero's real name?"

Kenny was quiet again, but I waited as I drove along the streets—toward 99th.

"What was that?" I cupped my ear.

"Mark Houston," he whispered. "He lives in the building on the corner—first floor. I don't' know much else about him. He sells nines and forty-fives—keeps them in a trunk in his closet. Lives with his moms . . ."

When we drove past that corner, Kenny disappeared to the floor, but he pointed out the building. Black was jotting everything down, and I was fast to drive back to where we picked Kenny up.

"This is what's gonna happen," I started. "I know your name. I know your address. If this Mark doesn't pan out like you say it will, I'll be coming back—looking for you, and I promise to make your life miserable. You won't be able to breathe without my partner and me rolling up on you."

"I ain't lyin' . . . but I don't know him like that. I told you what I know."

"You know where he gets those pieces?" I asked.

"Nah…Yo, can you drop me at the park so no one sees me?"

I nodded, thinking that a reasonable request, and then I pulled up to the playground. Black left the car to grab his cuffs, bidding Kenny a good night.

"That was cool," he told me, reentering the RMP.

"Yeah…we gotta run that Zero kid's name, see if he got any priors, shit like that."

"We're not giving this to the DTs?" He sounded surprised.

"No way. That's our tip—fuck the detectives. We'll get props from bringing in something that big. And you made a friend in Kenny. I bet he'll cooperate from now on. You'll see," I explained, since Black hasn't been on the streets for that long. He was on foot patrol and then pushing paperwork at the precinct. "No one gives a fuck about pot, but guns?" I pursed my lips. "I'd rather we were the only ones holding on our beat. Don't you agree?"

"Fuck, yeah, I do." He chuckled.

Without any reports to fill out, we were off on time, and I hurried to leave the station. On my way out, Vasquez asked me how I was feeling, because I'd called out sick. Faking, trying to sound a little stuffed up, wasn't difficult, and he kept his distance—didn't wanna catch whatever I had.

Knowing I'd see Whitlock back at Bella's, I didn't seek him out before I left.

But McCarty ran to catch up to me. "What was that before?"

I shrugged, and I had no idea what to say. "That's my girl. She's not some pussy—"

He smirked, punching my bicep. "I meant no disrespect."

"I know," I agreed.

"So, that's your girl now, huh? You love her and shit?"

I didn't feel the need to confirm.

"We cool, though?" He put his hand out.

I shook it. "Yeah…we're cool."

"I asked Vasquez if we could switch—me and you. Let Whitlock ride with Black. As senior officer, he should get the rookie anyway. What's right is right. Even Rosie agrees with me. I hope you don't mind . . . I mean, me and you, we could have some fun." He nudged me again, and his idea of good policing is arresting everyone, and I do not agree.

I puffed my cheeks, shaking my head no, but I was a little put out—Emmett going to the captain without speaking to me first. "What'd he say?"

"He bitched, saying I was tryin'a tell him what to do, but he knows I'm right. He said he'll think about it . . ." He pushed his hair back. "I'll see you later?"

"Yeah…" I gave him a fist pound and then turned toward Bella's.

A block away from her apartment, my cell vibrated in my pocket. It was my mother, and since I was surprised to hear from her so late, I picked up right away. "What's up?"

"Hey, honey…" She sounded like she was crying. "Um…Grandpa's gone." Mom started to sob.

I paused, my heart sinking, although I knew this was coming. "I'll, um…I'll be right over."

"No." She sniffled. "I'm still at the hospital . . . Dad's gonna give me a lift home."

Shocked, my brows rose, and I didn't know what was more surprising—that Carlisle was with her, or that he had a set of wheels. "Carlisle's with you?"

"Uh-huh. I'm so sorry, baby…I know how close you were, but it was his time." She was trying to soothe me, and I was fine . . . I think.

It wasn't the time to say this, but the words were on the tip of my tongue. "Don't let Carlisle try to weasel back in now…now that you're vulnerable and upset—"

"Edward Anthony," she chastised in a whisper.

"Mom…just stay there. I can be there in fifteen minutes."

"Baby, if you wanna come to the house, I'm not stopping you," she cried. "We're leaving the hospital now, though."

I gulped, my mouth dry.

"You should get some sleep—come by in the morning? We have to make arrangements. You know?" she asked, sounding hopeful—of all things.

"I'll see you in the morning," I said.

"I love you, baby."

"Yeah…" I nodded, ending the call.

And I was suddenly furious; I almost threw my cell into the street, but I didn't.

My feet carried me even faster to Bella's. I sent her a text when I was downstairs in lieu of ringing the bell, and she buzzed me in quick after I confirmed it was me.

She met me at the door, and I hurried to enter her apartment—thinking I'd somehow feel better once I was inside.

But that didn't happen.

My muscles were coiled, my stomach a knotted mess, and I tried to smile at her—tried to be happy, and I'd only been here ten seconds.

"What's the matter?" she asked, grasping my hand.

I chuckled and inhaled deeply through my nose. "My grandfather's dead—my mom just called." I stared down to my phone.

"Oh…" She rubbed up my bicep. "That sucks…but you knew he was going to die." Bella doesn't mince words, and I appreciated that.

"You're right."

"He's—I'd like to believe he's in a better place, like my mother's in a better place. Like…whatever their heavens were." Her leg bounced, and she was fidgeting where she sat.

My shoulders dropped and I plopped down next to her, placing my hand on her thigh. "I'm sorry if I made you think about your mother—"

She placed her hand over my mouth. "Don't. With time comes healing. I often think about my mother. Only now…it doesn't hurt as much."

"Yeah…" I cleared my throat. "Carlisle was there…like a vulture, there to pick the bones. He's gonna be surprised as all fuck when he finds out the old man ain't loaded anymore!" I laughed out loud.

Bella hummed, munching on her thumbnail, that foot tapping.

And that calmed me in a way, worrying about her.

"I'm upsetting you," I whispered, pushing her hair away from her shoulder.

She shook her head. "I don't know what to say…to make you feel better, although there's nothing anyone can say that'll make it all better. Death hurts the living…and lack of words makes me uncomfortable."

I grinned, thinking the blush that crept up on her cheeks adorable.

"But I don't have to say anything," she sighed, staring at me. "You talk; I'll listen." Bella still seemed wary, a crease forming between her brows.

I exhaled and closed my eyes, and I wasn't so much . . . sad as I was pissed, thinking about my father being a fucking snake, worrying about his presence, and I wasn't there.

While I truly wanted to stay near Bella, I had this uncontrollable urge to go to my mother's house—look out for her.

"I should go…" I massaged her shoulder. "My mother—"

Bella disagreed. "She just lost her father, and you won't be able to be there for her without confronting your father. Esme doesn't need that. Go because…you want to be supportive, not because you're angry." She hugged my middle. "I had to say that—I couldn't keep that in." She squeezed me.

I rubbed her back, knowing she was absolutely correct. "Take a shower with me."

She lifted her head to grin. "You don't need that either."

I showed her my palms. "No funny business."

"That's what you always say," she giggled.

"I know." I kissed her cheek.

Thank you for reading.

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