Hello, My lovelies! :-)

Sooo … I think some of us need to have a little chat! Real talk now ya'll! I get it—oh do I get it—that things aren't going the way some people hoped for, yet. BUT I gave fair warning this was gonna be a slow burn, right? Maybe it's on me that I didn't clarify this was in regards to not just the romantic side of things, but the story's (meaning Edward's) progress. He has his own demons to deal with, too. Some of you hate him—I'm cool with that—but he is who he is. So is Esme. So is Angela. And when Bella comes into her own and some of you might be wondering where her bitchy attitude came from—she's who she is, too! Don't get my words twisted—I take your thoughts to heart—you have no idea how much I appreciate you sharing them with me. Though some really need to think before they speak, but whatever. I gotta take the good with the bad. I think I do a pretty good job with that. But I WON'T change the plot of the story or someone's character. I can't. I just write it, the characters pull the strings. ;-)

*drops mic*

I should also mention Bella's only been in the house about 2 months now. To avoid any confusion with the time jumps I'll start breaking down what month we're in.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled program! I think—hope—you guys are gonna like this chapter … and you have Bridgette to thank 'cause she sent this sucker back like, "Nah, girl… I need a little more of these two." I'm paraphrasing, but you get it! :-D With that, I changed some things so if mistakes make ya cringe blame moi!

*NOVEMBER*

Chapter 14:

When the time comes help Isabella.

Help Isabella.

Isabella.

BANG!

I jump up from yet another nightmare and scrub my hands over my face.

They've increased in frequency over the past few weeks and change every so often.

Sometimes, I see Rosalie.

Sometimes it's a blurry figure of one of the men that attacked me.

Sometimes it's even Bella with a sinister smile on her face.

"Fuck." I run my hands through my hair, trying to catch my breath. Nightmares don't really scare me. I've learned they're your subconscious trying to tell you something. So the fact I've been losing sleep and not able to figure them out, annoys me most.

Feeling thirsty, I take the steps downstairs—shocked when I find Bella sitting on the couch and staring stoically out the window.

I purse my lips not knowing what to say. For the past few weeks, she's been pretty good at staying out of my way. Or hiding—which is what it's ended up feeling like. She's completely abandoned the habit of actually joining me for dinner, and we don't say much to each other, besides my thank you's and constant reminders that she doesn't have to cook and clean.

"Umm … hi," I say quietly, not wanting to alarm her. She gasps and turns to look at me, hand flying to her chest. Well, there goes that. "I'm just—" I thumb over my shoulder toward the kitchen "—getting a drink."

She nods slowly, showing me she heard me despite my whisper, but her eyes don't leave my chest. My bare chest, because I didn't think to put a shirt on when I came down for a drink.

Whatever. I'm too tired and a little cranky from my dreams to bother going all the way back to my room to put one on and then back to get a drink.

With a soft huff, I make my way to the kitchen and pour myself some water.

"Would you like coffee?"

I let out a little yelp and turn around to look at Bella. Oh, with the stealth. "Bella, please don't just sneak up on me like that."

"Sorry." She frowns, even though I can see the corner of her lips shaking at the force of trying to fight a smile. It almost catches me off guard, my own lips wanting to curve into one, too.

Looking over at the clock, I see it's well past two in the morning and turn back to Bella with a raised eyebrow. "You're drinking coffee?"

Her frown deepens. "Yeah, you said I could."

"No … I mean, yeah, you can. You can do whatever you want, Bella." I sigh. "I just mean why are you drinking coffee at this time of night?"

"It keeps me up," she says, her voice shaky.

Well … yeah, that's the point of coffee after all. "Why would you want to stay awake? Don't most people drink tea at night or warm milk or something when they can't sleep?"

Shrugging, she walks over to the pot and pours some of the dark liquid into her cup. I try to control my shock of how much she's talking. It seems the most she's ever said to me all at once. "Nighttime … I don't really like nighttime sometimes," she whispers.

"Why not?"

"Because I have nightmares sometimes, too."

Too.

I stare at the back of her head, willing her to say more, but she doesn't. It's clear though I haven't been quiet in my nightly struggles with sleep.

In a moment of solidarity—of what I don't know—I reach around and grab a coffee mug of my own. And doing my best to ignore the minute shaking of her body, I reach my cup out towards her. "Coffee sounds great."

xXx

"You still haven't been sleeping, have you?"

With my head down on my desk, I shrug my shoulders at Angela. "What gave it away? The fact I asked you to hold my calls for fifteen minutes so I can rest my eyes, or ..."

"Actually, it was the extra level of smartass you've been radiating."

Another shrug. "What do you want?"

"Have you talked to Bella?"

I ignore her, assuming there's more to the question or that she's just being annoying for the sake of it, but when she repeats the same question again, I almost lose it. "Angela, are you serious?" I snap my head up. "She lives in my house. Of course I've talked to her."

"Yes, but have you talked? Like spoken to each other, about ..."

"About what? Life? Her sister? Yeah, actually just last night we stayed up watching movies together, reminiscing about the good old days."

With pursed lips and narrowed eyes, she nods. "Okay, maybe I walked into that one."

I roll my eyes and drop my head back down on my desk. No need to quantify that one with an answer.

"So ..."

"Yeah?"

"You know how you haven't talked to Esme?"

"Yes, I'm aware of the fact I haven't spoken to my sister."

I hear her inhale a long, annoyed breath and find myself smiling at this. That's what she gets for disrupting my almost nap.

"Anyway. Bella's been a little … different toward her at the center and I was wondering if you knew anything about why?"

Now I'm intrigued.

"Why has Bella been at the center?"

"She helps out there," she answers me slowly, the way people do when they address small children. "Esme gave her a job helping in the daycare."

"I take it I'm supposed to have known that?"

"Well … yeah. Anyway, do you know why? Why she's been cold to Esme ... is it 'cause you're mad at her, maybe?"

"Let me clarify something." I finally sit up, my face hard and voice serious. "I'm not mad at my sister." Even if I was I don't see why Bella would take that on herself. "I've just chosen not to speak to her at the moment because I don't need her asking me for anymore favors."

"I think she knows she's favored out."

"Does she? Are you sure about that?"

"Okay, well in any case," she says quickly, a tone I recognize as her wanting to change the subject. "Esme brought it up and I was just wondering if you guys are going over there for dinner next week."

Ah, it is that time of the year isn't it?

"And she sent you to ask me?"

She shrugs.

"I'll go." I place a hand on my chest. "That's a given. But why would Bella want to go to Esme's for Thanksgiving if she's done something to upset her?"

Even with my somewhat brusque answer and demeanor about this new information, I can't deny a part of me is curious about whatever is going on with Bella and my sister. She seemed to lean on her so much in the beginning. So had I paid attention, I would realize how strange it is Ez hasn't even come around much.

Feeling exhausted and easily agitated, I skip out of work a little earlier than normal. When I get home, I find Bella in the kitchen cooking.

I open my mouth to, again, tell her she doesn't have to worry about it, but the look I remember she gave me the other day—like I was taking something away from her—stops me. So, I say, "Smells great."

From feet away, I see her shoulders tense for a split second before she turns her head to the side and offers me a soft smile. Something's off about it though, and I notice her face is splotchy and her eyes are red—like she's been crying or something.

"Um ..." I scratch at the back of my neck. "You alright?"

She sniffles but nods, returning her attention to the stove as I continue standing there awkwardly. I decide I might as well jump right in and ask her about what Angela said.

"Bella, I have to ask you something."

Without a verbal answer, she cranes her neck around to look at me again.

"Angela mentioned to me you and Esme are on the outs. I was wondering, hoping you'd wanna tell me about it."

This is a long shot, I know. It's not like we've ever had in depth talks, but my curiosity is nagging at me. I'm also hoping whatever pushed her to be able to talk to me last night hasn't wavered.

After a moment of surprise flashes behind her eyes, Bella's face hardens. "I don't like her."

"Why not?"

"She's like Charlie."

I shake my head slowly, letting her know I don't know who she's talking about.

"My step-father."

"Oh."

"She's just like him. She smiles. She acts nice. But really it's just to make you do what she wants. Things you don't want to do. She does that to you. And I don't like it."

The venom in her voice is so palpable it almost knocks me off my feet, and her words sting at me for my sister. But I have no idea what to say in her defense. I don't even know what Bella's talking about. "What happened?"

She flinches at my demanding tone, hands balling into fists, but she continues. "She's a bully." The harshness subsides as her voice starts to shake. "I—I know you don't want me here." It's a hard thing to rebuke, but also hard to agree with. I didn't want her here at first, she's right. But … "I should go," her voice cracks. On instinct, I take a step toward her but stop when she takes a step back. It's impossible to hide my frown. "I know I should leave. I know I shouldn't be here at all—that Miss Esme lied ... and … and I'll go. I will if you—"

"Don't go," I blurt out, causing her to jump. "You can stay." I soften my voice.

"Really?" Her voice is small as tears well at her eyes again. It makes me wonder if that had something to do with the reason she was crying when I walked in. Or if it's 'cause she was thinking about her asshole of a step-father. I've prayed the things I know about Rose weren't carried over to Bella, but every time I think about it ... I shake my head. I can't think about this right now. So I focus back on Bella.

"Yeah." I nod. It's slow, calculating. I don't know what I'm offering her, exactly what I'm getting myself into. But I know I can't just send her out there with nowhere to go. She's not speaking to Esme. I don't even know if she has friends now from working at the center. I realize in my not wanting to know the details about her past, I've pretty much shut off knowing anything about her present. I'll worry about that later, I decide. But first … "You have to do something for me first."

Panic and disappointment flashes across her face and my heart cracks. My stomach churns. Tears almost well at my eyes for her.

"That." I point softly in her direction. "That has to stop." I know it's easier said than done. I know she may never be comfortable around me. And I might not even deserve what I'm about to ask her. But I can't keep walking around my house scared that everything I say or do might upset her. I can't have her hiding in her room from fear of … whatever. Upsetting me. Getting in my way. Or worse. Something has to change. In me. In her. In us. "You have to try and trust me. You have to know I don't and won't ever expect anything from you."

It breaks my heart when I see the look in her eyes. It's unsure. But still hopeful. Bypassing everything I just said about trust, she says, "I can stay?"

I nod again. "For as long as you need to."

*Yay!—I know a few were worried (wondering) when or if Edward might ask her to leave again or something. NEEEVVVVEEERRR!

So … I'll be on vaca starting next week for a good few weeks. So if I don't get to update—that's why. ; -) But the next chap is ready so as long as I can get a minute to steal some wi-fi I'll post it!

In the meantime, I wanna rec another fic :-)

The Man in the Moon by: CullensTwiMistress

Summary: Her Nana had always told her she'd find the peanut butter to her jelly. But she never did find the one, and now she's 29 and still looking for that perfect one—the man that doesn't exist. He's like the man in the moon; a simple fairy tale that will never be real.

(If you know Missy you know she's one of the best sweetward h00r's evvvvaaaa ... so check it out, you won't be disappointed)

Thank you all for reading!

Until Next Time

~Lo