Thanks so much for all your reviews! There's a longer author's note at the end, so please read on!

Stephenie Meyer owns any Twilight characters that may appear in this story. The remainder is our original work. Copyright 2009 by spanglemaker9 and justaskalice. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without our express written authorization.

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"She looks awful," I said sadly, looking down at Rose's sleeping face.

Edward squeezed my hand but didn't say anything. We were sitting in what had become a familiar position: me perched at the top of Rose's hospital bed, him behind me, watching over us and making sure that no one but the doctors and our friends got into the room. He had been particularly tense since the episode with Royce in the hallway...not that I blamed him. We were all tense. Jasper and Emmett hovered around the hospital, not coming into Rose's room but always present on the edges. The two of them had developed an odd sort of friendship over the last several days. Despite the situation, or perhaps because of it, Jasper had been more personable, if not more talkative.

Rose was only periodically awake and lucid enough to talk. She flinched away from all of the men, even Marcus and Carlisle. It was heartbreaking to see what my confident, beautiful friend had been reduced to. Her bruises were fading from purple into a stomach churning blue-green, making her look sickly and broken. She was a shadow. And the doctors were sending her home with us today.

The sedatives they had her on made her groggy and compliant, despite her almost constant fright. I got her to agree to come home with me only by promising she would be staying at the home of a lady friend of mine with constant access to medical care so she wouldn't have to return to the hospital, and that I would stay with her as long as it took. Edward was ecstatic with the arrangement. I thought he was going to start doing back flips when I asked if it was all right with him if I stayed in his garret until Rose was well enough to travel.

He had picked me up and spun me in a circle, laughing delightedly when I squealed for him to put me down. We kissed breathlessly, but when I pulled away his smile was only half-hearted.

"How long before you think we'll leave?" he asked softly. "Before Rose is ready, that is?"

"We'll figure it out," I sighed, hugging his waist tightly and hiding my face in his chest. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Edward didn't want to leave, and that he was willing to sacrifice everything he knew for the sake of our relationship. I didn't like it, but I couldn't see an alternative. It didn't seem fair. I had come to Paris to find Rosalie, but I had found so much more than that. I had built a life here, only to have it ripped out from under me as soon as I got comfortable. If we stuck around for too long, there was always the danger that Royce would find us and things would get dangerous again. It was a no-win situation for all of us.

"Does she have any belongings?" Esme asked. I turned around and saw her standing in the doorway, bright red lipstick flawlessly applied and a stylish hat perched on her head.

"No, nothing," I said. I pushed a lock of her blond hair off Rosalie's forehead. "Alice left something for her to wear when we take her home, and she's out putting together a care package with toiletries and other pieces of clothing."

Alice had come to see Rose every day, but only once while Rose was awake. The two of them had had a stilted conversation, with Alice trying to be cheerful while tiptoeing around the elephant in the room. After her panicked apology to me when she woke up, Rose hadn't wanted to talk about Royce. She would only say that he was violent and repeat that all she had wanted to do was keep Alice and me far away from him. It didn't explain why she had left initially, and she absolutely wouldn't talk about her baby. To be honest, she didn't talk much at all. It scared me.

"Marcus said that she would be ready to leave after she woke up," Edward said. "He's getting us a wheel chair to take her home in."

Rose's eyelids flickered a little, and she stirred.

"Rose," I whispered, placing my palm on her forehead. "Rose, it's time to wake up. We're going to take you home."

"Home," she murmured. A sleepy smile crossed her face, the first one I'd seen on her since she left Forks, and then she opened her eyes and it was replaced with a familiar look of fear and mistrust. "Bella?"

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

Her eyes flicked up to Edward, and he took a step back, releasing my hand and sighing a little. It disturbed him when she looked at him like that, but I thought that with what she had gone through it wasn't an unreasonable reaction. He was a stranger to her. Once she got to know him, I hoped they could become friends.

She cleared her throat and sat up slowly. "What time is it?"

"It's about three in the afternoon, jolie," Esme said, walking briskly into the room. She patted Edward's shoulder lightly and gave him an understanding smile. "Marcus could use your help with that chair, Edward. Terrible, clunky old thing."

He nodded and left quickly. Once he was gone, Rose propped herself fully, not making eye contact with me or Esme.

"I can't tell you how grateful I am, Madame Benoit," she said, her voice flat and lifeless.

"Bah! You must call me Esme. I could never let you fend for yourself, chérie." Esme smiled softly and sat at the foot of the bed. "You will be safe with me and Carlisle. We'll have you on your feet in no time."

Rose nodded, but didn't say anything.

"Excuse me, ladies," Marcus said, wheeling a large, wooden wheelchair into the room. "Mademoiselle Hale, how are you feeling this morning?"

I took his arrival as my cue to leave. "I'll be right outside," I whispered to Rose, squeezing her hand gently. "As soon as Marcus gives the okay we'll take you home."

She nodded silently. I kissed her forehead and stepped outside, following Esme. Edward was leaning against the wall in the hallway with his eyes closed. When he heard us approach, he opened his eyes and gave me a crooked half smile. He reached out his arms and I stepped into them quickly, letting him comfort me.

"It's going to be okay," he murmured. He pressed a few sweet kisses into my hair.

"What if Royce comes back?"

"Let's just take things as they come." His tone was soothing, but his face was troubled and he wouldn't meet my eyes.

"What aren't you telling me?" I whispered. He glanced at Esme and then plastered a smile on his face.

"Nothing, love. Everything is just fine."

"Why don't I believe you?"

Alice came around the corner then, followed by Emmett and Jasper. Emmett was carrying a large bag on one shoulder.

"Are we ready to blow this joint?" Emmett said, grinning at the two of us.

"Rose is getting her last check up and then we're going to take her to Esme's," I answered, still looking at Edward.

"I set up that guest room just like you asked, Esme," Alice said. "And Carlisle is waiting with a hot pot of tea."

Jasper snorted. "Tea. That'll make everything better."

"My mum always thought so," Edward said, then bit the inside of his cheek as if he'd said too much.

Marcus walked out into the hall and softly shut the door behind him.

"She's ready to leave," he said. "Can one of you gentlemen help me get her into the chair?"

"I think it would be best if the girls and I did that," Esme said. He considered that for a moment, then nodded.

"Of course. Please give Carlisle my regards, Esme. We'll have to get together soon under more pleasant circumstances."

"Our door is always open, you know that. You're welcome any time."

She kissed him on the cheek and then strode purposefully into Rose's room. "Come, girls."

Between the three of us, it wasn't difficult to lift Rose into the chair. She had lost weight, despite her pregnancy, and her arms and legs were spindly. She winced when I inadvertently touched some of her bruises, but otherwise didn't say anything. Esme arranged a blanket over her lap, all business and charm. I had no idea where she got her constant supply of strength, but it amazed me every day. She was telling Rose about her home and all her favorite neighborhood haunts.

"And when you feel well enough, chérie, I will introduce you to my friends. They will adore you."

"Esme's parties are a gas, Rose," Alice interjected. "You'll just love them."

Rose snapped her head up. "No more parties," she said, with more life in her voice than I'd heard so far. "No more parties, no fancy dresses, no more."

Esme took it in stride, sweeping Rose's hair behind her shoulder, and starting to push her out of the room. "Of course. No one will make you do anything you do not wish to do ever again. I will see to that."

When we left the room, Edward, Jasper, and Emmett were standing in a tight huddle, talking in low voices. They stopped talking immediately at the sound of the squeaky wheels of Rose's chair.

"There she is," Emmett said, beaming down at Rose. "How are you feeling?"

She looked up at him uncertainly. "Do I know you?"

"We've met," he answered, shifting the bag on his shoulder a little and bending over to extend a hand towards her. She flinched but accepted it tentatively. "Emmett McCarty. I'm a good friend of Edward's. I'm going to be staying at Esme's for a while."

I narrowed my eyes and glanced between Edward and Emmett, but Edward kept his face carefully blank, and Emmett's smile didn't waver.

Her eyes traveled over to Edward, then to Jasper. "Who is he?" she asked, her voice wavering a little less.

"That's Jasper," Emmett answered, straightening up. "He's a lot less scary than he looks." Jasper scowled and punched Emmett's arm, but Emmett just laughed and pulled a face at him in response.

"Enough, boys," Esme said firmly. Emmett winked and then turned back to Rose.

"This chair is awfully heavy, Rose. Would you mind if I pushed you back to Esme's? No one is going to do anything you're uncomfortable with, but we'll get there faster if I do the driving."

She looked from Emmett to me. I smiled and nodded encouragingly.

"Okay."

On the walk back to Esme's, Emmett, Esme and Alice kept up a steady stream of cheerful conversation. Rose didn't say much, but I thought I saw a smile on her face a couple of times.

"Why is Emmett moving into Esme's?" I asked Edward as we trailed behind the others.

"He's over all the time anyway, he might as well move in," he joked lightly.

"Edward," I growled. I grabbed his hand and he looked me in the eye, his smile falling slightly.

"We'll talk about it later," he said evasively.

"But—"

"Trust me, Bella. Please?"

I stared him down for a minute, but it was obvious he still wasn't going to tell me about whatever it was he was hiding. Now he was asking me to trust him, to be patient. To wait.

"Okay," I grumbled. "But this isn't over."

He kissed my cheek and we followed silently after the others.

The room Alice had set up for Rose was bright and colorful. Silk pillows covered the bed, and two big windows faced the back garden.

"Is the room to your liking?" Esme asked, gesturing that Emmett should roll her to the window. "Much better than that sterile, stuffy hospital room."

Rose nodded and looked out the window. "Thank you. I'd like to be left alone, please."

A flicker of concern crossed Esme's face, but she nodded. "Of course. Follow me, children."

Carlisle waited in the kitchen, looking older and more tired than I had ever seen him. When Esme walked in, he smiled and stood.

"Is she all settled?" he asked.

Esme smiled softly and walked to join him. "Yes."

"Thank you," I said, speaking to both of him. "For letting her stay, and for letting me stay as well."

"Ce n'est rien," she said. "There was never a question. I had no choice. For now, you must be there for your friend. This is a difficult time for her."

Over the next several days, I did my best to follow Esme's advice. Alice and I set up shifts: when one of us was working, the other stayed with Rose. When both of us needed to be out, Esme stepped in. Emmett was another frequent visitor, though he was never alone with her. He brought her books and flowers and other colorful baubles, always trying to engage her in conversation. Most of the time, she stayed silent.

"It's unbearable," I said. Edward and I were in his garret, a week after we brought Rose home. "She won't talk to me, not about Royce or anything else. When I mention going home she clams up even further."

I sat on the bed with a sigh. We were getting ready to go to bed, and I was wearing one of the little night dresses Alice got for me. Edward sat behind me, rubbing my bare shoulders.

"I wish I could help, but she doesn't seem to be terribly fond of me."

I turned to him and kissed him softly, putting my palm to his cheek. He leaned into my touch slightly. "I'm sorry. I've told her about you, about us. It's like she doesn't even hear me. She just stares out the window. The only time I see her react to anything is when Emmett stops by her room. Even then, it's not like he's making her smile. She's just not completely blank."

"She's been through a lot," he mumbled, eyes downcast. "I understand, even if I don't like it."

"I wish I knew what she's been through, but she won't tell me!" I stood and started pacing. "And how long before Royce finds her here? He doesn't seem like the type to give up easily. He talked about her like she was something he owned." I shuddered, and Edward came to stand by me. He stopped me, placing both his hands on my shoulders and stooping so we were eye to eye.

"Let me worry about Royce, alright?" he said. "You focus on your friend."

I sighed and nodded, but he didn't let me go. "I mean it, Bella. We're past the point where you can go scampering off on your own and play the hero. If you keep doing crazy things, something is going to happen to you. You're going to get hurt. Do you understand?"

His eyes burned into mine, fierce and solemn. "What aren't you telling me? Why is Emmett really staying here?" I asked tentatively. I knew he was hiding something from me, I just didn't know what. Every time I had tried to bring it up, he squashed the topic swiftly or distracted me. "What's happened?"

He sighed and wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tightly. "Promise me first. Promise me you'll let me keep you safe. Tell me I can trust you."

"Edward you're scaring me. I promise, okay? I won't go near him again, I promise." When he didn't loosen his grip, I whispered, "I swear. Just tell me."

"The morning after we took Rose to the hospital, Jasper and Emmett came to see me," he said quietly.

I scrunched my eyebrows together, trying to remember. "No they didn't."

"You were asleep." He walked us back to the bed and pulled me into his lap. He arranged us so that my back was to his chest and my head was resting on his shoulder. "Someone broke into Jasper's apartment and trashed the place. That same night, someone left a note for Emmett with his doorman, signed by the two men who attacked you outside of Alice's place."

"I don't understand."

"It was a message, Bella," he said, frustration coloring his tone. "A warning. Emmett and Jasper were trying to track them down, to find out more about who they associate with and what they wanted. We may have scared Royce off for a time, but I don't believe for one minute that he's gone for good. Now, we're making arrangements to have this place protected, just in case someone targets us here, and we're going to do what we can. That's why Emmett's moved in. But I can't be worrying about you all the time. If you see anything that worries you, if you even think there might be danger, you have to make sure you're not alone. Will you do that for me? Do you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you," I whispered, turning in his lap. He kissed me feverishly, and I let him pull me down to the bed, comforting him with my touch the best I could.

The next morning, I didn't have to work at the café. Edward walked with me to Rose's room, kissing me gently and hugging me before heading down the stairs to the kitchen. I missed spending my mornings at the market with him, and our afternoons on the river, but Rose was the most important thing right now.

"Good morning, Rose," I said brightly. She was sitting up in bed, a tray with bread and jam next to her on her bedside table. "How are you this morning?"

I said the same thing every morning, and she never answered, so I was taken aback when she responded, "Royce was sweet at first too."

Her voice was rough from disuse. I crossed the room quickly and sat next to her.

"What do you mean, sweetheart?"

"Your English boy," she said, staring out the door where Edward had stood moments before. "Royce started that way. Sweet, attentive. Loving." She spit out the last worst with venom in her voice.

"Edward isn't like Royce," I said immediately. "He's been helping me since I met him. I wouldn't have found you without him. I've told you all about him, remember? He loves me."

She snorted and looked out the window. I wasn't ready for her to stop talking, though. I picked up her hair brush and motioned for her to turn. She sighed but let me start to brush out her curls.

"How did you meet Royce?"

There was a long pause, and I was afraid that she had decided she didn't want to talk to me again, but then she cleared her throat.

"I met him at a school social shortly after I got to Paris. He was there with another girl, but we spent the whole night talking, and afterwards he took me out for coffee and dessert. He was a perfect gentleman."

She paused and wiped a few tears from the corners of her eyes. "He asked to see me again. I agreed; why wouldn't I? He was handsome and kind. I told him about school and home, about Alice and you. He told me..." She took a deep breath. "He told me that school was a waste of my time and money. I wouldn't need an education to be a wife and mother. He was very convincing.

"I stopped going to class. I think Alice knew, but she didn't say anything. She was busy with her job at the magazine. She asked to meet him a couple of times, but Royce didn't think that was a good idea. He told me that she was a bad influence. He said she didn't live like a respectable woman should. "

I made an angry noise in the back of my throat, and she looked up at me with wide eyes.

"I loved him, Bella. At least, I thought I did. All those things I told you about in my letters were true—he treated me like a princess. Sometimes he acted odd, but I brushed it off. He didn't like me talking to the other men at the parties we went to. He said it was because they couldn't be trusted, but soon he was getting upset when I spoke to anyone. He wanted me to prove that I loved him."

She looked away from me. "He didn't force me. I let him do it to me, I thought it would be the proof he needed. But after we... afterwards he was worse. He told me that you would never understand our life here. He demanded that I stop writing to you. You were a part of my life before. He said I had to get rid of everything from before."

I winced, remembering how my mother had explained her drop in correspondence.

"That was how he got convinced me to move out of Alice's place." She kept speaking, the words flooding out of her. It was like now that she had started telling me her story, she wouldn't stop until she had said everything there was to say. "He took me to stay in that house because he said it wouldn't look proper to live together until we were married.

"I think it was convenient for him to have me there. He would meet men there, receive packages. When he wasn't around, I would entertain them, although sometimes he was still furious when he saw me talking to them. I started to find out more about his business. The men who came to that house scared me, but by then I didn't have anybody else. That's when he started to get...rough."

I set the hairbrush down and climbed into bed with her. She turned into me and snuggled into my side. We lay there quietly. I rubbed her back as she struggled to control her breathing.

"At first he just pushed me."

Her words were a little muffled by my blouse, but I didn't want to move. I just let her talk.

"It was almost accidental. He always apologized. He told me that he didn't mean to. Then he started to grab me. He'd leave marks on my arms and legs. I started wearing longer skirts and dresses with long sleeves. Then one day... he slapped me."

She closed her eyes tightly and more tears leaked out.

"I told him I didn't want to attend a party that night. I was tired. He slapped me across my face and then told me that it was my fault, that I should have done as he asked and it wouldn't have happened."

I rocked her gently, furious that something so horrible could happen, to Rose of all people.

"After that night I was going to leave. I couldn't imagine living like that anymore. I was going to leave him and go home. That's when I found out I was pregnant.

"I couldn't leave then. Don't you see? I had to do what I could for my baby. I thought... I thought even Royce was better than no father at all. I had to be smart. I couldn't afford to make him angry now that there was a child involved."

"Why didn't you tell me any of this when I visited?" I whispered.

"Don't you see?" she said again, desperately. "If he had found you there, he would have hurt you, maybe even killed you. You don't know what he's capable of. I couldn't let him know that you had found me. I had to protect you."

"It's okay," I soothed. "I understand. I forgive you. Shhhh."

"It didn't matter," she cried. "Last week I had finally had enough. I told him I was leaving him. I was going to find you. He snapped. I thought I was going to die... I would have deserved it for what I did to you and what I exposed my child to. And now my baby's gone."

She wept openly, tears streaming down her cheeks and disappearing into her pillowcase and soaking my blouse. "It's only a matter of time until he finds me. There's nothing anybody can do anymore."

"That's not true." Esme stepped forward into the room, and Rose and I looked up in surprise. She smiled sadly. "I am sorry, I did not mean to eavesdrop."

"What did you hear?" Rose asked dully.

"Enough." Esme sat in the chair I had just vacated. "Did Bella tell you that I'm married?"

Rose sat up a little and wiped her eyes. "You're married to Carlisle, of course."

Esme laughed. "No. Not to Carlisle. When I was 16 years old, my parents arranged for me to marry a man named Pierre Benoit. He was in his late 20s, and he had enough money to take care of me. He certainly had more money than my parents." She paused, then looked Rose straight in the eye. "We weren't married more than a year before he started to beat me."

Rose closed her eyes and turned away, but Esme leaned forward and grabbed her hand, forcing Rose to look at her.

"There was nothing for me to do. He was my husband before the law and in the eyes of God. The priest in my village urged me to obey my husband's will. My parents believed that I was lying; I was not quiet about my objections to the marriage."

She spoke matter-of-factly about these past horrors, staring Rose down.

"I lost a child too," she said softly. "My husband got a little...enthusiastic with his fists one night and I went into an early labor. A little boy. I did not love my husband, but I loved that child with all my heart. He was born early, too tiny." She got a haunted, faraway look in her eyes, and a lone tear trailed down her cheek. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat.

"He took a piece of me with him when he went. I knew in that moment that I could not stay. If I had stayed there a moment longer I would have joined my sweet boy in the churchyard before another year had passed. And so I left."

Despite the fact that Rose had begun all this by telling me her story, I felt like I was intruding on something sacred. She and Esme were connected by a common bond of pain and lost motherhood I couldn't begin to understand.

"What did you do?" Rose whispered.

"I came to Paris," Esme said.

"All alone?"

"Yes, all alone. I was not as fortunate as you." She smiled warmly at me and patted Rose's hand. "I made it. I survived, and not only that, ma chère, but I flourished. I became Esme Benoit, muse and lover of the arts. I built a family of sorts out of my friends here in Paris. My husband took away any chance of normal family, I'm afraid. I can't have children of my own anymore, but I managed nonetheless."

"But you're still married to him?"

Esme waved a glittering hand. "A technicality. The church frowns on divorce."

"Did he... did he ever come looking for you?"

"Once, about a year after I came to Paris. By then I was living in this house with a dear friend. I relied on my friends to shelter me and keep me safe."

She laughed suddenly. "Don't let anyone tell you that artists are weak or spineless. My ragtag group of painters and poets gave that fils de pute quite a welcome. I never heard from him again."

"Pain is a part of life," she said, serious again. "It is what makes us human; it shapes us the same as love and laughter. You don't have to forget, but you cannot let it destroy you. Conquer the pain, don't let it conquer you."

Rose leaned back on her pillows and closed her eyes. "I'm tired," she said quietly.

Esme smiled and placed a hand on her forehead. "Sleep. Bella and I will let you rest."

I kissed Rose's cheek and followed Esme out the door. She closed it behind us and then turned to me.

"I don't know what to do for her," I said. Esme smiled sympathetically and put her arm around my waist, leading me down the stairs.

"You are doing a wonderful job," she assured me. "She just needs time. Time, and understanding. Can you give that to her?"

"Of course I can," I said immediately.

"Good girl. Edward is still downstairs, why don't the two of you go out for a bit? I'll keep Rose company. Emmett will be home soon as well. She won't be alone."

When we got to the kitchen, Edward was sitting there with Carlisle talking seriously. He turned when we entered and beamed at me.

"How would you feel about going for a walk with me?" I asked him. He jumped to his feet.

"That sounds perfect," he said. "You spend too much time holed up in that room upstairs."

He reached out for my hand, and with his touch the panic and sadness I had felt upstairs evaporated. It was always like that with Edward.

"We'll be back," Edward called as he led me out of the kitchen. "Where would you like to go?"

"Can we just walk?" I looked up at him, and he smiled. "Wander the streets without a plan?"

He laughed. "How about we wander over by the river?"

I shrugged. "Okay."

We ended up at a bench by the Tuileries, quietly watching the river flow past us. We hadn't spoken much as we walked. I was reflecting on everything Rose and Esme had said. It was almost too much to process in one sitting. There was so much danger in the world. Before, I had thought that the worst fate I could suffer was a life of boredom in a little town. Jacob looked like a prize next to Royce and Esme's husband. And Edward...

Edward sat silently, not pushing conversation, content to hold me for a while in the bright sunshine. He was the picture of patience. He loved me with his words and his actions every day. He would give anything to protect me. He was willing to give up everything he knew. And I gave him barely anything in return.

I felt like crying when I thought about how much I held back with him. I gave him my body, but he deserved my heart and soul. No, that wasn't right. He had my heart and soul. He just didn't know he had them.

I cleared my throat and he looked down at me in concern. "Are you okay?"

"I'm wonderful," I said. I turned on the bench and wrapped my arms around him, my legs half in his lap. "Edward, I need to tell you something."

He lifted one eyebrow at me, concern painting his features even as he smiled at me. "What is it? You can tell me anything."

"I just wanted you to know..."

It was ridiculous that these three words were so difficult to say. I wondered if it was because I had never said them to anyone but my parents before or if it was just nerves. I looked into his eyes and steeled myself.

"Edward, I love you."

His eyebrows got impossibly higher before he broke out in a brilliant smile.

"Say it again," he begged.

"I love you," I said, more forcefully this time. His smile grew, and he ducked down to kiss me. His lips were urgent on mine, and I forgot that we were on a public bench, sitting in full view of passersby, as his arms wrapped around me and my feet left the ground.

After a few minutes of breathless kissing, he pulled away laughing. "I love you," he said fervently. His green eyes sparkled down at me.

I laughed delightedly. Saying the words out loud had lifted a weight from my chest. I felt light and free. We practically skipped home, lost in our own world of smiles and murmured declarations. The sun was setting when we arrived back. Edward pushed through the front door, still grinning from ear to ear. He pulled me into the kitchen and then stopped abruptly.

"Edward, what—"

I looked up and registered that there were three people in the kitchen instead of the two I expected. Carlisle and Esme stood near the center of the room, facing an unfamiliar man. It was this man that Edward was staring it, his expression frozen.

The man was tall, taller than Carlisle and almost as tall as Edward. His dark brown hair was carefully parted on the side and slicked back. He looked vaguely familiar; there was something about the slope of his nose and the pout in his lips. He turned toward Edward and me. After giving me a cursory glance, he stared at Edward. His eyes seemed to take in every little detail, full of some strange unnamed emotion.

Finally, Edward spoke.

"Dad?"

I gasped and dropped Edward's hand in shock. It came together then, the familiar features of his father were reflected in Edward's face, and to some extent, in Carlisle's.

"Edward," the man said. "It's... it's good to see you, son."

It was clear to me that his father was nearly overcome with emotion, but Edward seemed to harden at the sound of his father's voice. He took a half a step in front of me and addressed him.

"What are you doing here?"

"You called me because you needed help," he explained. "You're my only child. You didn't expect me to just ignore that, did you?"

Edward pressed his lips into a thin line, and his father turned his gaze to me. He smiled at me. It was an echo of his son's smile, genuine and warm.

"You must be Bella," he said. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my dear."

I looked from Edward to his father and back again. When Edward made no move to speak, I stepped around him and extended a hand. "Pleased to meet you, sir."

Amusement sparked in his eyes, but he took my hand and shook it. "That's a firm handshake you have. Edward tells me you're American. Where are you from?"

"Washington State."

"I've never had the pleasure of visiting the States," he said, looking over my shoulder at Edward. I turned to see what he was staring at. Edward was glaring now, not bothering to cover up his distain.

"I haven't spent much time outside my hometown, I'm afraid." Edward's frozen scowl was starting to worry me. "I like Paris very much, though."

"And how long have you been in Paris, Bella?"

The question seemed to snap Edward out of his stupor.

"I don't know why you're here, Father," he started.

"I already told you—"

"But Bella and I have plans for the evening. I'm sorry, but whatever you've come to say will just have to wait."

I turned to him with wide eyes. "What are you talking about?" I hissed.

"Come, Bella," he insisted. He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the stair. It was all I could do to give Mr. Cullen a nod as we left the kitchen. He smiled sadly as he watched us go.

When we got to the top of the stair, Edward made straight for the bottle of scotch that he kept high on a shelf. He splashed a few inches into a glass and collapsed into a chair. I watched in disbelief as he threw back the glass and drank it in one gulp. He stared at the empty glass, then grabbed the bottle again. Before he could pour more liquor into the glass, I strode across the room and put my hand on top of his.

"Stop," I commanded. His eyes were clouded and angry, but they softened as he looked at me.

"Stop," I said again. I pushed the glass and the bottle away and got closer. "I don't understand why you're so angry, Edward. Why is he here? What did he mean about you calling him?"

He took a deep breath and sighed. "It's a long story."

I smiled and sat down on one of the rickety kitchen chairs. "I have time."

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A/N: Justaskalice and I have both just been made VIP Authors at A Different Forest! It's a great website for Twific and all things Twilight. Once we're both up and running there, Girl with a Red Umbrella will be available there as well as our other stories. Come and check out the site! http://www(dot)adifferentforest(dot)com/ Our stories will continue to be available here and at Twilighted as well.