Disclaimer: SM owns everything in the Twiverse, but please don't steal my plot :)

A/N: I've had a few questions about this story since my last chapter posted, so here's me trying to clear them up:

This is a canon-based, what-could-have-happened-but-didn't prequel of the Saga that leads into the time/basic plot of Twilight (haven't decided where it stops). BUT this story cannot and will not yield SM's Twilight (or the same back-story for Edward and Rose/Em beyond Rose's change in 1933) bc any pre-canon Roseward relationship changes that story. So YES, there will be Ed/Bella and Rose/Em but not the way you read it in SM's canon. This is just me taking liberties with some parameters SM set. Hope that makes sense.

Now… this chapter did not go as planned because Ed's conscience had other ideas, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Here we go!

Chapter 21: An Uncomfortable Truth

Edward's POV

The first time Rosalie kissed me, the night she changed me, I was stunned, shocked into immobility by an unfathomable occurrence of which I'd dared not even dream while awake.

But this time, this night, there is no hesitation, only hunger.

No thought of rejection, only a response.

And the sweet relief of knowing I am forgiven, at least in part.

Her knuckles brush my cheeks as she sighs, a gesture so tender I want to weep. My hands rest against her hips, sliding around to her lower back to pull her closer, wishing I could climb inside her skin and never resurface.

She smiles against my mouth but does not break our kiss, choosing instead to slip her hands into my hair and lightly scrape her nails against the nape of my neck.

A low growl escapes me, but I cannot regret it. It has been three days, the longest of my life, and should the apocalypse descend around us, I would be hard-pressed to care.

The shock from the sofa barely rivals the one in my heart, and as she holds me in place, I block their thoughts, unwilling to share this moment.

But the respite is short-lived.

Mrs. Cullen gasps aloud as she collapses against her husband, her mind racing with gleeful possibilities. He says nothing, but his smug smile presses upon me as he returns his bride to the couch.

"What have we here?" he thinks, and I growl again, though not in pleasure.

Rosalie catches the difference in reaction and kisses me again before pulling away. "We need to talk now."

"Talk?"

"Yes, talk." She arches an eyebrow, ignoring the inquisitive gazes from our master and his mate. "You do remember how to do that, yes?"

My nostrils flare, earning another smirk. "I seem to recall its mechanics."

"Good." She takes my hand, pointedly avoiding our so-called parents as she angles her head toward the front door. "Then let's do that."

The Cullens' incredulity mellows to fascination and bottoms out in disappointment as Rosalie and I take our leave without as much as a backward glance. Though annoyed by the barrage of questions following us as we leave the house, I cannot feign indifference to what my nonsister has done.

To the very significant, very non-private thing she has done.

Rosalie guesses my thoughts and comes to an immediate stop. "Can you still hear them?"

"No." I glance around, amazed at how far from the house we have gone in so short a time. "Though I imagine they will be exactly where we left them upon our return." She says nothing, and I find myself adding, "Assuming we return."

"Of course we return." She clears a space on a wide, flat rock and pats it. "Sit."

Her tone is sharper than I would like, but I cannot object. Though her earlier display certainly suggests my pardon, I know there is more on her mind.

And whatever it is, I deserve it all.

She taps her fingers against them, contemplating her next move, and I am mesmerized by the mindless action. And as I find myself envying her delicate tips, I marvel that I ever tried to persuade the doctor not to change. To think what I would have missed!

I shudder at the thought.

"Cold?" she asks.

"Yes." I rub my arms for emphasis. "I should have brought a scarf."

"You should have done a few things, Mr. Masen. Several in fact."

The mood shifts with her terse use of my human name, and I wonder if her earlier offering was but the kiss of death. "I know."

"Do you?" She advances on me, and I will myself not to retreat. "Do you know why I fled the other night?"

I look down at my shoes, toeing a dying patch of grass. "You were angry."

"Yes. But do you know why?"

Before she came back, I would have said yes. But now, with her omniscient eyes boring into me, I am not so sure. "Because I wrote your father?"

She huffs, rolling her eyes. "Perhaps I should just tell you."

I swallow hard. "I'd appreciate it."

She purses her lips as if sizing me up, and I suffer her inspection in silence. Apparently finding enough of what she wants, she begins.

"Edward, I could blame my immortality on many factors, and I do depending on my mood." She clasps her hands in front of her. "But in truth, there is but one culprit, one lone thing responsible for my eternal loss of life. Do you know what that is?"

My silence answers for me.

"The male ego."

An immediate rebuttal rises in my throat, but I tamper it down before it manifests on my face. She eyes me carefully, expecting a reply, and continues when I offer none.

"The male ego told Royce and his friends they could beat me, rape me, and leave me for dead. The male ego convinced Dr. Cullen to inject me with his venom." Her voice hardens as it drops in volume. "No one asked me. I was not given a vote and my deepest needs went ignored. No one cared about the woman inside the body they irrevocably changed. No one cared about me.

"And I know the doctor thought he was saving my life." I am shocked by an urge to make the same argument on his behalf and remain thoughtfully silent. "I know his actions were rooted in selflessness, at least in his mind. But no man should ever make a decision for a woman. She has a mind of her own perfectly capable of the exercise."

Her eyes are soft as she looks at me, but I see the hurt within them. "Edward, I know you thought you were helping me, and you did. More than I could put into words. But you cannot ever do that again. You can never snatch the reins of my life from me again. I…" She looks away. "I couldn't take that. Not from you."

I stand and cup her face. "I am sorry."

She nods, her gaze still averted. "Look at me. Please, love."

She does, reluctantly, and I am leveled by the anguish in her eyes. "I was wrong to presume to write your father without your knowledge or consent. Presumptuous, disrespectful, and wrong. Please forgive me."

Her hands reach up to close around mine, and she pulls them away from her face. The dejection I start to feel relents when she laces our fingers together. "How did you know what to say?"

The change of subject throws me. "What?"

"Your letter to my father. It was… When you recited it to me, though I knew it was impossible, I thought I had written him myself and forgotten." Her eyes search me. "You put my soul on paper, Edward. How did you do it?"

I freeze in her grasp, uncertain of how to reply. If I tell her my secret, she may never speak to me again. But if I lie, does my male ego not win again?

She waits, her calculating eyes appraising my silence, and I sigh in resignation. "Rosalie, I have something to tell you."

She releases me and backs away, her arms crossing beneath her chest. I hold her eyes, hoping to keep her with me. "I have told you of my gift."

"Your telepathy is nothing new."

I pause before continuing, displeasing her. "What?"

"I have also told you I cannot control it, not perfectly."

Her eyes narrow. "Go on."

"The hardest thoughts to ignore are the ones with the most emotional significance, those which most fully express someone's deepest…"

"Edward!"

"You cannot block your thoughts from me."

Her gaping mouth shuts and falls open once more. "What… what do you mean?"

"I mean, your thoughts are not safe from me." I take a hesitant step toward her, and she backs away. "No matter how I try to…"

"So you know it all?" Her voice breaks on the last word. "Everything?"

I nod and take another step. "If you are within range, and I am not wholly distracted by something stronger than your lure, yes. I hear and know it all."

I lose my hold on the final word, and she turns away, shutting her eyes. "I don't believe you."

"How else could I have written such an authentic letter?" I ask gently. "Your father believed he read your thoughts because I used your thoughts to write him."

Her hands tremble at her sides. "No."

"Rosalie, I…"

"No!"

She takes flight in the opposite direction, and though I am faster, emotion gives her an advantage which makes me hard-pressed to keep up with her. "Rosalie, wait! Let me explain!"

"There is nothing to explain!" She leaps over a river, crushing a pile of felled logs to kindling on the other side. "You violated my trust by listening to my thoughts without my permission. It is an unforgivable betrayal of the worst kind!"

"No." I am two seconds behind her, closing the gap. "The worst kind would be not telling you."

She comes to a halt, and I have to spin off her left side to avoid a full-on collision. "What did you say?"

"I didn't have to tell you the truth," I say carefully once I regain my balance. "I could have lied just now, said I learned William's pet name during your change and guessed the rest. And you would have believed me, having no reason not to."

Her eyes widen dangerously, and I brace myself for an attack. But she does not move, though her gaze seems to gut me where I stand.

"Why didn't you?" she asks after a moment or day has passed. "Why didn't you lie?"

"Because I value you too much to cheapen this with another lie."

"Another?"

"Sending the letter was a lie of omission. One for which I also owe Dr. Cullen an apology, as I secured his help in keeping your location a secret."

"He took my life," she spits. "The least he could do is foster my continued relationship with my real father."

"That said, I would be a fool indeed to lie to you again, knowing I almost lost you the first time. I mean, if I…" The words die in my throat, and I shudder again.

"What?" she murmurs as she steps closer. "If you what?"

"If I must lose you," my lips tremble as I speak, "let it not be by my own foolish hands."

"But wh…" Her beautiful brows furrow as she searches my face. "Why do you think you'll lose me?"

"I…" I swallow past the terror trying to steal my breath. "I can read minds, but I cannot see the future." I tuck an errant lock behind her ear. "And though I know what I want, though I know what you want, I have seen enough of this world, immortal and otherwise, to know wishing is insufficient when Fate has other plans."

Her eyes fill with some unspeakable emotion, and I shut my eyes to block it out. I knew nothing of this fear until the admission was made, and its crippling effect assures me it is not only true but extremely so.

I could lose her.

I could lose Rosalie.

I cannot say how or why.

She might make a life somewhere else.

She might make a life with someon…

I shake off the invidious thought.

But I could lose her.

We could lose this.

Lose it before we fully know what it is.

"Edward."

Rosalie's voice is close, closer than I expect, and I realize we are wrapped around each other on the forest floor.

I have no idea how we got this way.

My head rests in her lap, hers on my trembling back, and she strokes my arm as she rocks me.

Or is it I cradling her quaking body in my arms?

So tangled are we, it is impossible to tell.

"Edward, you will not lose me." Her soft sincerity seeps into my aching heart, searching for a safe place to rest. "No matter what happens, you will never lose me."

I grip her more surely, holding on to everything she is, praying she will pardon all I am not.

I know the latter to be impossible, yet I cannot stop myself from murmuring, "You promise?"

She lifts my head, searing the words on my soul as she stares right into it. "I promise."

Promises, promises… What do you think?

Thanks for reading, and I'll see you soon! xo