Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns it. I'm just playing.

Author's Note: This chapter is a day late because I'm a genius and broke four fingers in my right hand. Turns out, typing with one hand is a little more difficult than you (me) would expect. This chapter was half done already, so I was able to get it to you within some kind of reasonable timeframe despite the fact that I had to keep re-writing it (with one hand) to make the characters sound a little less like they were high on Vicodin (which I may have been). The next chapter might take three or four days instead of the usual two. Even though my chapters are short...one hand. It blows. So if I could just call in a super duper extra big favor and ask you guys to be a tiny bit patient with me, that'd be wonderful.

I'd like to thank EdwardsBloodType and bananapancakes7 for their recs. More of the big dogs. Except I never read fanfic so people are like "I was sent here by THEM!" and I'm like "Who are...they?" and they're like "THE BIG DOGS!".

I need to start reading more.

My ugly gimp hand could be a good excuse to do that.

The Apology

I was warm and content, filled the lazy feeling of being surrounded in someone's arms. The images that danced around in my dreams were colorful and soft and pleasant. I could feel my own breathing, feel my own heartbeat, and I knew I was surfacing. I didn't want to, I didn't understand what it was that was pulling me back, but it was irresistible.

A voice was calling my name from across a long distance. "Bella?"

I shifted, trying to ignore whoever, whatever it was that was disturbing me.

"Bella."

My eyes snapped open at the very instant I recognized the voice that had so effectively permeated my dreams and dragged me back to consciousness unwillingly.

I blinked several times, trying to clear the hazy glow of the room and drag the pale face in front of me into focus. The white of the skin, the bronze of the hair bleeding and fuzzing together. The only feature that was painfully, incredibly clear was the brilliant green of eyes.

"Edward?" My voice came out a confused mumble, his name sounding like a sighed question, not really expecting an answer.

"What are you doing here?" he asked softly, his head tilted to one side as he kneeled in front of me.

What a strange question.

Why wouldn't I be here?

I was safe here.

Warm and comfortable and sleepy.

And then it came rushing back: where I was, what I was doing here, what had happened.

"Oh!" My entire body jerked upright into a sitting position, the blankets that had been cocooned around me were shoved down to my waist, my legs tangled in them tightly. My eyes whipped around the room quickly, noting that I had been curled onto one of the library chairs, the dim light still on, Wuthering Heights forgotten and tossed aside onto the floor.

I bit my lip, feeling a swell of panic rising in my chest.

"Are you alright?" I heard Edward ask beside me.

My eyes snapped back to his face in surprise. I had been so prepared for his anger or rejection or – at the very least – his annoyance, that the concern on his face was completely and utterly disarming. He was kneeling beside the chair, his hand on one of the arms, looking up at me with confusion and worry.

"Yeah, I…" I finally swallowed my shock and stuttered, "The power went out at Alice's. It was getting pretty cold so I just thought…" I tapered off suddenly, twisting my hands in my lap uncomfortably.

What I had thought was that I couldn't be alone. I had frozen up under the pressure of the unexpected and had come running back to the first person I thought could save me, tail between my legs.

I waited, holding my breath, for Edward to recognize my weakness.

"Where are Alice and Jasper?" he asked instead, glancing around the library as if I was hiding them somewhere. "Are they upstairs?"

"No, no!" I said quickly, explaining. "They went away for the weekend. I was watching the horses for them and…" I paused, watching Edward's curious glances land on me, his face becoming unreadable again as he heard what I was saying. I swallowed the newly formed lump in my throat to choke out, "I'm sorry."

Edward's eyebrows rose slightly. "Why are you apologizing?"

I opened my mouth and then shut it abruptly. He hadn't asked which of the many things I was apologizing for, he didn't tell me that he wouldn't accept or that he didn't want to hear it. There was confusion in his question. The unsaid part: There's nothing to apologize for.

"I don't know," I said quietly, with a shrug. My voice was almost a whisper as I dragged my eyes back up slowly to meet his.

He leaned forward a little, his posture earnest, his words strong. "I told you that you were welcome here and I meant it."

There was no room to debate him.

"Thank you." I simply mouthed the words, my eyes still locked with his.

We looked at each other for several moments and I could feel my body relaxing back into the chair. He wasn't going to kick me out, he didn't resent that I had come back. I watched as he leaned back onto his heels and stood, walking the two steps over to the couch and sitting down across from me.

"So when do Alice and Jasper get back home?" he inquired, the casualness of the question completely foreign to me.

"Tomorrow morning," I told him, keeping my voice even.

Edward nodded as if it was what he had expected. Then it was his turn to drop his eyes down to his lap, twisting his hands together and picking at his cuticles nervously. When he looked back at me at last, his brow was furrowed slightly.

"So will…?" He stopped, swallowing.

He didn't look like he was planning on finishing the question and he didn't need to. I could practically hear it, curiosity leaking from every pore, crying out with every tense line in his body.

Will you move back here? Will you go back to them?

Will you leave?

Will you stay?

I leaned back into the chair with a sigh, pulling at the ends of my hair thoughtfully as I watched him, watching me. I could see the interest in his posture, the engagement in his eyes. It was more than I had seen in months. But there was no indication one way or the other. I couldn't see the right answer anywhere in his face.

"I feel awful staying with them," I said at last, holding my hands out in explanation. "I feel awful forcing them to take care of me like…"

I stopped.

Like you did.

He seemed to realize the missing words as well. I saw his jaw clench taut against his cheek, his entire body tensing with emotion. I scrubbed my forehead with my hand, momentarily shielding me from his eyes.

Then I heard, "You can come back."

I pulled my hand away from my face and looked at him, sure I hadn't heard correctly. But he was still looking at me, his face carefully controlled again.

I hesitated, unsure of what to say. We had never been vocal about what we needed, what we wanted, how we were feeling. I wasn't sure that I was even capable of telling him the truth and speaking honestly.

I took a deep breath.

"I'm just afraid that…" I stuttered to a stop, restarted, "I don't know if…"

Edward watched my struggle with a nod and finished for me.

"You don't know if I'll kick you out of the house again," he stated calmly, as if he had known it all along.

My face flushed.

I was so goddamn tired of being afraid, but I wasn't sure how to stop.

"You never gave me a reason, never told me why," I attempted to explain to him. "You apologized…and I do believe you, but...that doesn't mean…"

I could feel myself getting stuck again.

Edward tore his eyes away from mine quickly, his mouth opening in exasperation. For some reason I didn't think it was directed towards me. His hand flew up to the back of his neck and he began rubbing at some of the tension.

"That doesn't mean you can trust me," he finished my thought.

This time there was resignation in his voice. The corners of his mouth curved down slightly, his eyebrows crushed hard, his eyes sad. He looked like he was searching for an answer that was impossible to find.

But it was the wrong question.

"It's not that…exactly." My voice was quiet and hesitant. Edward turned back to face me again slowly, his hand dropping away from his neck. "I just don't want to…"

I paused.

"What?" he prompted, his voice gentle.

I swallowed hard and finally managed, "Whatever I did to make you so angry…I don't want to start doing it again."

Edward blinked at me.

I could see the surprise at my answer washing over him. Surprise, which seemed to slowly fade into an expression that looked suspiciously like guilt; remorse.

"It wasn't your fault," he said at last, with a shake of his head.

I couldn't help the cynical chuckle that escaped me.

"Everything that's happened here is my fault." I took the blame with an effortlessness that was freeing because it was the truth. My truth. "I know that now."

Edward's eyes narrowed at me immediately. "Don't do that."

"Why not?" I demanded. "It's true."

"As far as I can tell, there are two people in this room," he replied, folding his arms across his chest pointedly.

I opened and closed my mouth several times.

He waited calmly as if finally registered within me that something had changed. Something in the fight or the week we spent apart or my return to the house had altered one of us or both of us.

My eyes traveled over Edward slowly, still wearing his clothes from work. His tie was loose, several buttons were undone, his hair was more tousled than usual and I imagined him running his fingers through it several hundred times on the drive back to the house. I could see the stress and energy that kept him in the room, kept him talking to me. It mirrored my own perfectly. And yet we were here, battling through the tension for something on the other side that neither of us had any evidence of.

I was silent for a long time as I looked at him, biting my lip in contemplation.

It was Edward's voice that broke me out of my thoughts.

"So," he said conclusively. "You don't want to stay here with me and you don't want to go back."

Even though it was phrased as a statement, I knew it was a question.

What now, Bella?

I sighed, knowing that he didn't really understand that it wasn't about trusting him or making him angry, it wasn't about using Alice and Jasper. My desire to be alone – to not need him and to not need them – was horribly and inextricably tied to the reason I couldn't be without them.

"I just wish I wasn't so fucking useless all the time," I growled out the insecurity suddenly and without pause.

Edward barely hesitated. "You're not useless."

I felt a ludicrous giggle bubbling up from inside me, laughter that was born of futility and helpless frustration. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Edward, but I really, really am."

"Well," Edward said thoughtfully, watching my sad smile. "If you don't want to be, then you won't be for long."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I demanded abruptly.

Edward's smile was as sad as mine.

"Because this is my fault, too," he said firmly. "And the past few months, I've been…" He tapered off, his voice seeming to slip away from him as his eyes caught mine.

The months of silence and hunger and anger and tension.

I could see him regret them and not regret them.

"I understood it," I said softly, with a nod.

Edward's smile was a little less sad.

Then it faded away completely.

"With all due respect," he said solemnly. "You really, really didn't."

"Okay, I didn't," I admitted, a sincere laugh escaping me unexpectedly. I stifled it, my expression shifting to one of genuine interest. "But I want to understand. That's got to count for something, right?"

Edward looked at me for several moments, his eyes trailing over my body slowly until they rested on my face. When his gaze locked with mine I could see the confusion that was less confusion and more…wonder.

I could see him wondering.

"What happened to you?" he asked, his voice a sharp exhale.

I sat up a little taller. "Excuse me?"

He seemed to struggle for a moment before stating simply, "You're different."

I tilted my head, baffled by the sudden turn in the conversation.

"I mean…I guess I…" I stuttered, unsure what he wanted me to say. Finally I glared back at him and folded my own arms to match his. "You were here the whole time, you know."

Edward stared at me for a second longer before breathing "yeah" in half-hearted agreement.

I puzzled for a moment longer over his vague answer before turning the question back around on him.

"Well, what happened to you?" I demanded, my voice unfamiliarly teasing.

"I changed my mind," he answered simply, with a shrug.

As if it was as easy as that.

"Changed your mind about what?" I prodded, feeling my pulse spike a little at the possibility of getting some answers.

"Things."

My sigh turned into a quiet groan of frustration as I rolled my eyes at him. He continued to look back at me, a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

"Alright," I conceded grudgingly, knowing there was no sense in pushing him. "And what exactly changed your mind about things?"

Edward shrugged. "Who knows."

It was written all over his defensive posture and the slight spark of vulnerability in his eyes. I knew that the more we danced around each other, the more time we wasted. But I could almost see it clearly now. Maybe until this point it had been evasion on both our parts; that was where we lived, what we were good at, what kept us from breaking completely. Now, though, now it was self-preservation. Everything between us made it impossible to be completely open with each other if we both wanted to survive it. I was pretty sure that he wasn't ready to hear everything and I knew I wasn't.

"Let me ask you something, Edward," I said quietly, thoughtfully changing the subject. "Back when things were good, back when we first met and we were happy together…or you were happy with me…did you ever really let me in?"

It had been a question that had tortured me for the past months.

Every day watching him draw further away from me, watching his ice and his apathy, and thinking that I had never really known him. That even back when things were at their best, I didn't know who he was.

I had always been brutally honest with him.

He had been brutally dishonest.

Edward was quiet for a long time before saying, "I would have, if…" His voice wavered and died in his throat.

"If what?" I prompted, trying to keep my voice gentle.

"If you had cared enough to ask."

I felt his words like a crushing blow, the truth of them radiating painfully through every vibrating bone and nerve in my body.

"I'm asking now."

"And now it's a little more complicated than just asking."

I couldn't just ask anymore.

I could just walk up to him and say "penny for your thoughts" and ask him how his day went and what he wanted for dinner and how he liked the people he worked with and what the weather was going to be like tomorrow. I couldn't ask him what his favorite book was or who his best friend was in elementary school or why he loved science as much as he did.

Everything in our lives eclipsed the little things that usually make up a person. What made people who they were no longer defined us.

As much as it could never have been anticipated, I had always known that marrying him had been wrong, that taking advantage of him and letting myself be taken advantage of couldn't build a relationship with a fighting chance.

And I hadn't cared.

I hadn't cared that I didn't know him, he hadn't cared that he didn't know me. He had loved me, I had needed him. Years of thinking that maybe we weren't the problem, that maybe it was fate, that maybe we were just wrong for each other and we couldn't have known, cut down in a single uttered phrase from him.

"I guess it is," I said quietly feeling tears pricking at my eyes.

I brushed them away quickly in frustration, dropping my head so he wouldn't see. He must have noticed, though, because he didn't respond for a long time. He sat, silently, as I struggled to regain control.

"Listen, Bella," I heard his voice, so soft. "Why don't I go?"

My head instantly whipped up to look at him.

"Go?" I asked, quickly. "Go where?"

"Let me talk to Alice and Jasper tomorrow," he suggested. "I'll see if I can get them to move in here with you, help you take care of the house. That way you won't be indebted to them."

"I'll just be indebted to you," I scoffed, fighting the disbelief that threatened to overtake me.

Edward shook his head. "I've said it before: you don't owe me anything."

I felt a lump form in my throat once again.

"Where will you go?" I asked, my voice quivering slightly.

"My mother has been itching to move back into her and my father's house. I'll go live with her, in the city. It'll be closer to the hospital and I won't have to worry about her living alone…" he shrugged, as if it was the most sensible suggestion in the world.

And maybe it was.

The idea of staying with Alice and Jasper here, having a place where I wasn't afraid, where I felt safe, where I had time to make some decisions and a freedom from fear to do so…I could feel my pulse starting to race slightly with excitement.

At the same time I could feel a slight ache, a small hole of discomfort.

"What does this mean?" I whispered.

Edward looked confused.

"What?" he asked.

I forced myself to say the words. "You leaving me." My entire body shuddered, but my voice remained steady. I was sure Edward hadn't noticed. "What does it mean?"

He shook his head. "It doesn't mean anything."

"Edward…"

"It means whatever you want it to mean," he said vaguely, waving his hand in dismissal.

What was he saying?

That I had to decide what to do? That him leaving could mean we were separated or divorced or married?

I could see it in his face that he was ready for me to say anything, to tell him what I wanted, and he wouldn't fight me.

"That's not up to me," I said firmly.

"No, Bella. It is up to you." Edward shook his head again, his voice strong. "You've spent your whole life allowing people to make choices for you, to shape and define who you are and how you live your life." He paused before adding, "And I don't exclude myself from that."

I could feel my panic rising, not knowing what I could possibly want or how he could make me choose.

"It wasn't your – " I began before he cut me off with a harsh laugh.

"Wasn't my fault?" he demanded bitterly. "Yeah, yeah. None of it was my fault."

I inhaled sharply as if I was going to say something, but there was nothing I could say to him. I watched the guilt and the sarcasm slowly fade away and it was replaced, once more, with that same unreadable expression.

Finally, I asked him quietly, "Why are you doing this?"

He granted me a small smile.

"Because I should," he said, repeating my own words back at me.

I nodded quietly and tore my eyes from his, looking back down at my lap. My eyes trailed to the floor slowly and caught on the fallen paperback, its pages bent and folded from impact. I leaned over and lifted it off the ground quietly and without comment. I smoothed the pages and closed it tightly, placing it on the little table next to the chair.

"Should I call Alice and Jasper tomorrow and ask them?"

I almost didn't hear the question, it was so quiet.

Without saying a word - without looking at him - I nodded.

"Alright," Edward agreed.

Then I heard him shifting to stand up. I still didn't look at him. I heard him move towards me and then he was right in front of me, his hand outstretched to mine as if he wanted to help me to my feet.

I couldn't help but look up at him now.

He was standing tall above me, looking down, his palm face-up as he waited.

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion and I cocked my head to one side in question.

"Bed?" he prompted.

Understanding, I hesitated before shaking my head with a small smile.

"It's too cold," I explained, motioning to the warmth of the library contentedly. "I'm fine down here."

Edward swallowed and dropped his hand, his eyes flashing with something that looked suspiciously like guilt before he composed himself again.

"You can sleep my room," he offered, before amending quickly, "I'll sleep on the living room couch."

"Edward…" I began in protest, feeling myself pale slightly as I remembered the last time I had entered his room.

Edward smirked at me. "I promise I cleaned it up."

I couldn't contain the laugh that burst forth suddenly, an immediate release of tension. Edward's smirk turned into a small, genuine smile at my reaction and he held his hand out to me once more.

This time, I looked at it for only a second before taking it. I felt his fingers wrap around mine, the warmth of his palm pressing into my own. I stood up and pushed the blankets that had been wrapped around me tightly down to the floor, stepping out of them with uncharacteristic grace.

As soon as I was steady on my feet, I released Edward's hand. He bent over and lifted the blankets into his arms, dragging them into the living room and setting up the couch. I hesitated for a moment, unsure what I should do. Before I could deliberate too long, Edward was motioning me to follow him and he led me quietly up the stairs. I trailed along behind him, watching the pull and tense of his back under his shirt, thinking that he looked exhausted.

When we reached his door I paused, my steps slowing to a halt. Edward grabbed the knob easily and pushed the door open before turning back to me and motioning me in, unaware of my brief hesitation.

I walked past him slowly, into the room.

My eyes widened as I took in the clean floor, the immaculately made bed, the tidy bookshelf.

"I told you," I heard from behind me.

I turned back around to see Edward watching me from the doorway with a small, embarrassed smile.

I smiled back at him weakly, still feeling slightly flabbergasted.

Edward cleared his throat awkwardly in my silence, and the smile dropped from his face to be replaced with a more formal, courteous expression.

"Well, goodnight." He said with a slight nod. "I'll see you in the morning."

With that, he turned on his heal and made his way back over to the stairs.

His immediate retreat seemed to snap me out of my shock.

I found myself calling his name quickly before following him out of the room. He was already halfway down the stairs when he heard me. He turned, his eyes lighting on mine with confusion. I walked down the five steps separating us and threw my arms around his neck, my body crashing into his.

I felt him tense up under my embrace, but I didn't mind. I couldn't feel anything but relief coursing through me, flooding through my veins and filling me with an unexpected sense of hope.

I was standing on the step above him, which made us exactly eye to eye when I pulled away. I had to fight to keep from laughing at his expression, which was similar to what mine had been moments ago when I had walked into his room. His arms were hanging limply by his sides.

I smiled at him for a moment before turning around and walking back up the stairs.

I could feel everything I had wanted to say rattling around in my head as I pulled back the covers on the large master bed. Words that I should have called after him or whispered with my arms around him or told him in the library, with his eyes locked to mine.

Thank you. I've never deserved you. I'm sorry. Stay.