Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, no copyright infringement intended.

Thank you to Jen for giving this a glance and always being supportive. And thank you to the Pixie lady for showing me the way back :)

Chapter songs:

Radiohead – Fake Plastic Trees

Mumford and Sons – Ghosts That We Knew

"When we long for life without difficulties, remind us that oaks grow strong in contrary winds and diamonds are made under pressure."

~ Peter Marshall

Chapter Twenty-One

It was all such a very grand façade.

Having entered this house feeling so nervous, I was left feeling something akin to pity for the people occupying it. The misery inside these walls was suffocating. The forced politeness, the inane small talk, the pretentious food and the unabashed snobbery that radiated off the inhabitants of this magnificent house made my throat constrict.

My parents were not nice people. But they were honest - honest enough to admit to the world that they didn't care. They hated each other, they resented me, they were sour and jaded and just…pissed off with their lot in life. And they never tried to hide any of that. They were openly antagonistic. They made no show of pretending to be happy when they were in fact two of the most miserable, selfish people on the planet. They made no attempt to make people like them. They gave no thought to diplomacy or proper social conduct or hurting anybody's feelings. And suddenly, unbelievably, I found myself admiring them both for that. Because at least you knew where you stood with them. They were wretched human beings, but they never pretended to be anything else.

Edward's parents on the other hand, were wretches in disguise. And that made them terrifying. You didn't know where you stood with them. Everything was an act, a performance. They made you tiptoe and dance around their fake social pleasantries and the thinly veiled contempt behind every look, smile and word was impossible to ignore. There was a double meaning behind everything. It was mentally draining being around them. Dinner with the Cullen's was like playing a never ending game of Clue – they looked so fine and fancy and proper and yet beneath the surface, you couldn't help but think they were lying in wait with a candlestick, ready to bludgeon you to pieces.

We were only just finishing off the main course and I had been picked apart about everything. My parents, my life in Washington, school, my degree choice, my future plans, how I met Edward and my decision to move to New York. I felt like the victim of a forced autopsy – splayed open and explored for the sake of answers. I'd held my ground pretty well. I kept my responses as vague as I could. I didn't want to give them any ammunition to use against me at a later date. Mrs. Cullen had been particularly interested in how Edward and I met and scrutinized my every word. I stuck to our agreed internet dating script, not really caring if she bought it so long as she stopped asking me questions. Suffice to say the whole experience had been about as much fun as a rectal exam so far. But Edward was with me and he'd been amazing. He had a talent for deflecting his mother's constant badgering and he certainly wasn't taking any of her crap tonight. As always, he'd taken up a defensive position in my corner.

When I was able to take a breath and steal a minute for myself to reflect, all I could think about was being very little at my mother's house one particular summer. For whatever reason, she always threw away my toys when it was my father's turn to have me, so I returned to her house every other year to find a big bag of thrift shop junk waiting in my room. It was a bit of a potluck deal when it came to discovering whether it was treasure or trash, but this one summer I struck gold. Inside the bag had been a tatty plastic dollhouse, the kind that probably belonged to a heavy handed toddler once upon a time. Not that it bothered me. I'd never had anything like it before. Best of all, there were lots of mixed characters that came with it. There were wooden people and plastic people, some small finger puppets, a couple of rubber-like animals and lots of Lego characters.

I remembered standing on my tiptoes at the bathroom sink, carefully cleaning them all up. I was so happy at the thought of using them – not to play with them as regular children probably would have done, but to re-enact my favorite storybook scenes. To me, it didn't matter that none of the people matched. I didn't care that they were all from different play sets. I had such rare, childlike fun that year with my mismatched dollhouse and characters, and much to my mother's chagrin, the carry handle on the house meant that I took it with me everywhere.

And here I was a few years later and a few years older, recalling this while sitting in somebody else's dollhouse. Only this dollhouse was perfect. Everything in this dollhouse matched, as did the people. And they sported the same polite, painted on expressions as my wooden dolls from another time. Of course, I wasn't part of this set. I didn't fit in. This probably had something to do with me playing the part of the cobweb covered Lego houseguest – the unwanted one that was found stuffed down the back of furniture wearing a man' s head and a woman's body…

"I understand we will be seeing you at Kate and Garret's wedding, Isabella?" Mrs. Cullen asked, snapping me back to the here and now. Her eyes were suddenly alight with interest, all sparkly and superior looking. "Kate mentioned you would be sitting with us."

I swallowed. Reaching for my water glass, I took a slow, steady sip to try and ease the sudden dryness in my throat. "Actually no," I responded. "I have an exam on the fourteenth so I'll need to spend the weekend revising."

"Oh. What a shame," she smiled coldly. "So many people were looking forward to meeting you too."

I caught Dr. Cullen's smirk out the corner of my eye.

"Well, we still have time to organize you a new date, Edward," Mrs. Cullen said. "It's not an ideal solution, but the Carter's daughter, Annabelle, will be attending. You two always got along well, did you not?"

Edward's veal laden fork stopped in mid-air and was eventually rerouted back to his plate. "I hope you're joking," he said.

"I thought you and her were friendly?"

"I'm friendly with my current apprentice. Should I invite him too?"

"Edward, don't be ridiculous. It's unbecoming."

"As is your general attitude to life."

Ignoring his taunt, she continued. "If not Annabelle, then what about Mindy Stapleton?"

"No."

"Clara Louise Lawrence?"

"No."

"Georgia Farewell?"

"Jesus Christ, Esme," he muttered, throwing his fork onto his plate. The clash against the expensive china seemed to sing and echo throughout the dining room for several long minutes.

I glanced over at him then, but his gaze was firmly fixed on Mrs. Cullen. My eyes darted between the pair of them. They seemed to be having a silent conversation…or maybe an argument judging by the tight tick in Edward's jaw. Giving his mother a hard stare, he swiped a napkin across his lips, settled back against his chair and threw an arm behind the back of mine. I felt his fingers ghost across my shoulder and fought the temptation to sink into the safety of their touch. Mrs. Cullen didn't miss the subtlety in his actions and pursed her lips in response. It made her whole face contort in a way that suggested she had just sucked a lemon.

I didn't know where to look next. What was the correct etiquette when the mother of the man you lived with attempted to set him up on a date, you know, right in front of you? My list of conversational starters didn't exactly cover this - whatever the hell this was. I quietly placed my cutlery back onto my plate having lost what little appetite I had arrived with. I'd picked at my food like a bird. Nothing about any of the tastefully finished dishes had appealed. The food was too frilly for my liking. In fact, it had reminded me a little of the verbose menu back at the Edgewater Hotel in Seattle.

"You cannot show up to an event such as this without a date, Edward," Mrs. Cullen said sternly, openly carrying on the conversation nobody else in the room had been privy to. "Everybody will be there."

"I'm done talking about this."

"And how will that look, hmm?" she pressed. "You showing up. Alone. The streets are rife with rumor regarding your new…relationship." She waved her jeweled fingers in my direction as if she had just remembered I was sitting at the table with her, and then reached for her wine. "People are talking."

"I'll inform the police immediately," he fired back lazily. I felt his fingers move to my hair; he picked a single curled lock and began to twist and twirl it. I could sense his gaze on me but I kept mine trained on my hands as they fidgeted nervously in my lap. I didn't like the sudden shift in dinner talk. It had been going as well as it could before now.

"I will not have you drag this family's good name through the mud, Edward."

"And a date to my ex's wedding would solve that, would it?"

"It would certainly be a start," Mrs. Cullen bit back.

"Very well then." Edward turned in his seat so that he was directly facing me. I peeled my eyes away from my lap just in time to catch the wink he sent my way. "Bella, would you like to come to Kate and Garrett's wedding with me, as my date?"

Confused, I shook my head. "I-I can't. My exam…"

"Of course." He twisted back to his previous position and shrugged his shoulders. "My date is busy, so I'll be going on my own. And the next time you insult Bella at this table, we will be leaving."

Mrs. Cullen's composure slipped for the briefest moment, and in that moment I saw a monster. It was the same monster I had seen in Rosalie. Cruel, sly, manipulative and a law unto themselves. It was a wicked combination; the kind often associated with sociopaths. It left me shifting in my seat, praying I had misread her expression.

She smiled nastily, rotating the stem of her wine glass between her bony fingers. "For a man who was left so heartbroken by that woman, I'm surprised to hear that."

The atmosphere inside the room changed instantly.

I sucked in a breath and didn't dare release it.

Edward dropped his hand from my hair and straightened in his seat.

"Here she is settling down and getting married, while you, Edward, are still exactly where she left you. Nothing has changed, except maybe the midlife crisis you're currently making us all suffer."

I was surprised by the quiet that followed. Edward didn't say anything. There was no sarcastically witty comeback or smartass retort on how ridiculous he found her. They seemed to communicate by bickering with each other. It was odd but…that's how they were. But there was none of that now. The air simply filled with a stagnant silence.

Mrs. Cullen clapped her hands together and brought her chin to rest upon them, looking somewhat…victorious. "On December 11th you and your bachelor ways will watch the woman you once considered the love of your life move on. And you want to mark the occasion by showing up alone and reminding her exactly why she left you."

I think my mouth hit the floor.

"Now you might be alright with that Edward, but we are not. You will not embarrass this family in such a way."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I could hardly boast to being a regular attendee of high flying, New York society dinner parties, but my god. Who did she think she was, dictating to Edward like that? His personal life was his own. It had absolutely nothing to do with her. The audacity of the woman! And to speak so flippantly about something that was so delicate, something so private, and then to use it as a weapon against him for her own selfish means. Christ. I felt like I was dining with the damn Simpsons. They were nuts!

"Don't you agree, Carlisle?" Mrs. Cullen asked, seeking her husband's opinion for the first time.

Dr. Cullen huffed. It was the only noise he had made ever since we'd sat down. In fact, I'd almost forgotten he was even in the room with us. As he swilled the amber liquid in his crystal glass, he glanced at his wife and then at Edward, and then finally at me. "Save your breath, Esme. He's made is abundantly clear over the years that he refuses to see sense. What's one more disappointment?"

My head snapped toward Edward's father.

What's one more disappointment?

The shock I felt at hearing him speak those words about Edward left me feeling like I was physically choking. My mind and my airway seemed to be as one – starved of the oxygen they required to understand and function properly. I couldn't comprehend how he could possibly think like that. Edward was so…he was…he was Edward! Successful. Brilliant. Renowned. A genius of his time. People studied him, for heaven sake. He was everything any parent would be proud of. And he was loyal and kind and good. He was anything but a disappointment.

Before I could stop myself, the question was out my mouth. "And what disappointments would they be, exactly?"

I was irritated by how quiet my words were. My inability to understand the mighty doctor seemed to have robbed me of any real volume, but I couldn't just sit there and say nothing. I couldn't stay silent. Not on this.

"Ones that likely developed long before you were even born, Miss Swan," he said, his tone haughty. He downed the remainder of his scotch and slammed the glass onto the table. "Eighteen years old. Do I have that right, Edward?"

Edward shook his head, not even bothering to waste a glance on his father. "Nineteen. And I wouldn't expect you to understand."

"Good. Because I don't." Dr. Cullen adjusted himself in his seat and leaned forward a little. "Kate Denali is a ridiculous woman. But she is proper and her family are well connected. It was a good match and you threw it away. And for what? Her?"

It was at that point I watched Edward's hackles rise. Not just as a mere reaction to his father, but as a warning, and a frightening one at that. It was almost as if he was trying to make himself big enough to hide me from his father's sight. And it was then that he finally looked at him.

"If you ever speak to or about Bella like that again, you and I are going to stop having a conversation and start communicating in a very different way."

I had never heard Edward talk like that before. Never. I'd heard him be many things in the past – angry, frustrated, stressed, but this? This was something else entirely. This was…actually quite scary. I'd witnessed boys at school reacting a little like this just before they got into fights; pact mentality pissing contests Angela used to call them. I'd even witnessed the lead up to a couple of bar brawls while on nights out with the guys from college. But this was different. Because Edward wasn't simply calling his father out on his rudeness, he was promising to flatten him entirely if it ever happened again.

"If we are quite finished, Edward?" Mrs. Cullen ground out tersely.

"Are you ever?" he snapped, slowly removing his gaze from his father to openly glare at his mother.

I watched her eyes blaze. "You will not speak to me like that. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly so," Edward said. There was an edge to his voice though, like his words weren't meant to appease his mother, but to warn her. "Arthur?" he called, only for the lovely elderly man to appear at his side a few seconds later. "Isabella and I are leaving. We'd like our coats please."

"Ignore him, Arthur. He's being dramatic. We would like desert."

"Oh, I think Bella and I have had our fill of bullshit tonight," Edward said, making every attempt to really grind his chair against the floor as he stood up. "No desert, Arthur. Just the coats, please."

Edward moved behind my seat, waiting for me to give him the chance to be a gentleman and help me up. But I couldn't move.

He was hurt. She had hurt him. He wouldn't admit it and he certainly wouldn't show it, but he was. I knew it. I could feel it. And I couldn't allow it. I couldn't just let that slip. He was too good, too kind and he damn well deserved better than that from them, especially from her. For all her misgivings, Edward loved his mother. He loved her despite the lack of support she gave him, despite her harsh words and her absurd, pathological need to keep up with the Jones'. He stuck by her even though she had form for turning her back on him. He was loyal to a fault and open to being taken advantage of through her emotional blackmail. But the thing was, I knew her. I knew her type. I'd dealt with them my whole life. Only Edward and I had dealt with the effects of being raised by people like her very differently. I shut down after a while. I stopped caring. The harsh words, the emotional abuse, the lack of parental guidance, support and love became a sort of armor for me. I put it on and no longer cared. I might have been massively emotionally stunted as a result, but at least people didn't hurt me anymore. Edward on the hand, had gone almost completely in the opposite direction. Instead of allowing his parents' treatment to stunt him, Edward had grown into a man who cared deeply. Perhaps too deeply. He didn't turn his back on people, not even those who had treated him badly. His mother, his father and his sister were all evidence of that. He couldn't turn away, because he knew all too well what it felt like to have someone show you their back.

My eyes were fixed on Mrs. Cullen. The longer I looked at her, the angrier I felt. She didn't deserve him. And I suspected the old witch didn't much care. Her son was a boomerang. He'd come back to her no matter what she said or did.

She raised her eyebrows, almost as if she was challenging me to speak.

Challenge accepted.

"Is that how this works?" I asked, steeling myself. "Edward doesn't do as you command so you say something callous in an effort to grind him beneath your heel?"

She blinked at me. The shock on her face was covered quickly, but not quickly enough. I caught it – the fleeting flicker. She thought I would just slink away; that I wouldn't have the guts to say anything. Well screw her!

"I wouldn't expect a little girl like yo-"

"My name is Bella," I shot back before she could finish her sentence. "I don't answer to girl any more than you would answer to old woman. And for an old woman who is so caught up on social correctness, your own manners are seriously wanting."

"Lessons in propriety from you, Miss Swan. Really? I believe your young years are putting you at a disadvantage. You see the adults," she made a circular motion with her hand across the table, "were talking."

"Having years on me doesn't make you better or give you an advantage. Your years just make you older. And I understand perfectly. I've known people like you my whole life. You may have more money and a much nicer house, but you're still the same. You're spiteful and mean, and the only thing that makes you happy is making everybody else miserable. And that's fine. Whatever. Knock yourself out. But you don't get to make him miserable. You don't get to treat him like he is nothing."

She swallowed. I watched as her hand reached for the string of pearls at her neck, watched as she began to play and fidget with them, appearing a mite dumbstruck and scrambling for something to verbally launch at me. Apparently, she came up blank. I seized the opportunity her silence gave me to stand up and allow Edward to move my chair back.

"You know when he was in Sydney, your son sent me a picture. It took me days to figure it out. The picture quality was so bad. Edward's such a perfectionist and I couldn't work out the significance of him sending me that photo. It looked out of focus and kind of blurry." I smiled to myself at the memory and then glanced at Mrs. Cullen meaningfully. "And then it hit me. The picture had been taken while he was god knows how high up in the air, standing on top of this huge building structure he'd designed solely by himself. The picture quality was perfect. It wasn't out of focus at all. He was just completely covered in early morning clouds."

Her stare levelled me. "I'm not sure I understand the point you are trying to make."

I cocked my head. "I think if there's any photo of your son that deserves to be on display in this house, it's that one.

"We don't display blurry pictures, Isabella."

"If you can't grasp the weight behind the blurry picture Mrs. Cullen, then perhaps you don't deserve the chance to." With my piece said, I moved to stand behind my chair and pushed it under the table. I didn't even bother acknowledging Dr. Cullen. "Thank you very much for inviting me to dinner."

I chanced a quick glance at Edward, who looked mildly awestruck, before nodding to Arthur and following him out the room. My feet clicked and clacked for what I hoped was the last time against the floor in this horrible house, and I heard Edward's footsteps follow shortly behind me.

Arthur handed my beautiful Parisian coat off to Edward and he helped me into it, smoothing his hands over my shoulders and gently gathering my hair to let it fall freely down my back. I tilted my head up and around to meet his eyes only to have him hook a finger underneath my chin and plant a sweet, chaste kiss to my lips. As he broke away to put his own coat on, I noticed Mrs. Cullen standing in the doorway to the dining room, watching us. She was still fiddling with the pearls at her neck. I briefly wondered how long she had been there, and then decided I didn't care. I shook my head in a despairing manner and turned my back on her, allowing Edward to take my hand and lead me out of this awful place.

"Thank you for everything, Arthur. Dinner was delicious." Edward used his free hand to clap the man fondly on the arm. He was waiting patiently to bid us goodnight and open the door. I felt sorry for him having to work here. "I'm sorry we couldn't stay for dessert."

"Another time perhaps, Mr. Cullen." Arthur winked, trying to smother a smile.

Edward scoffed. "I wouldn't subject Bella to it."

"She's a fine one, indeed. You keep her safe."

I blushed, but managed to keep my eyes from darting to the ground. "Thank you for dinner."

"You're welcome, Miss Swan. You keep him on his toes, alright?"

"I'll do my best."

We braced ourselves for the cold December bite as Arthur opened the door, and stepped out to a crystal clear sky that was silhouetted by the city beneath it. I had no nerves walking back to the car. Edward's big hand was wrapped tightly around mine and I realized then just how secure it made me feel. As stunted as I might have been, this man was changing me. It was slow, but it was happening. The feel of his hand in mine, the touch of his lips, the warmth of his smile and the beauty of his emotive eyes – these were things that used to be lost to me. Things once too large for my limited emotional capacity to properly process and appreciate. But he was showing me the way. He had stood with me and helped me fight battles countless times because he cared about me. And tonight I stood with him and fought, because I cared about him. We cared the only way we knew how, both different and borne out of the same type of dysfunction, but we cared, which meant the dysfunction hadn't won…not completely.

As I looked around I found that the bare branches on the trees didn't seem so spooky anymore. The street didn't feel as though it was swallowing me and none of it intimidated me the way it had done before dinner. Now it just seemed a lot like the Cullen's house from the inside – cold, grand and ever so deceptive. I would never be so glad to see Edward's house again.

As we reached the car, I heard the tell-tale sound of the locks disengaging as Edward fingered his key fob from somewhere inside his pocket. He walked me to the right side and I slipped my hand from his to open my door, only for his hand to reach out and close it suddenly. I'd barely managed to turn around when his hands clasped my face. His body became flush against mine, walking us both backward until my body made contact with his flashy Mercedes. He lowered his lips toward mine. They were a mere breath away – in less than a single heartbeat I could meet them and welcome their warmth.

"The next time she calls to invite us over, I'm going to tell her no. And you're not going to argue with me," he said softly.

I smiled, fisting my hand in his shirt and forcing what little space there was left between us to close. I molded my mouth against his gently, relaxing my fist so that I could run my fingers round his back and pull him impossibly closer. "Agreed," I whispered as I finally pulled away.

"Home?"

I nodded. "Home."

The journey was quiet. The purr of the Mercedes' engine and the sound of its tires smooth flight over the roads were the only noises to break the silence. Edward looked deep in thought, much like I probably did. I wanted to ask if he was okay, but every time I tried the words became lodged in my throat. Part of me was unsure if dinner had even happened. The further away from Sutton Place we got, the more surreal the evening seemed. It was a bit like those precious few seconds you experience after waking from a dream that felt tangible and true. You lie in your bed questioning which reality was real; the one you woke to or the one you woke from. And for those split few seconds, you really aren't sure.

Questions formed the longer we sat in silence. A lot of questions. Questions about Edward's life before I came along, questions about his relationship with his parents, questions about his relationship with Kate. Especially Kate. I hated myself for thinking them – for wanting them answered. I had no right to know. I wasn't sure if I even wanted to know, not really. Or did I?

"For a man who was left so heartbroken by that woman, I'm surprised to hear that."

Mrs. Cullen's words kept looping in my mind. I couldn't imagine Edward heartbroken. I couldn't wrap my head around anyone being able to hurt him, especially not the likes of Kate Denali. She just didn't seem like a person who encompassed a whole lot of depth. And yet she left Edward – left him heartbroken, if what Mrs. Cullen said was true. He was such a strong, confident man. I couldn't comprehend the kind of damage a person would need to do to break him or his heart. And on the flip side of that, I honestly didn't understand how a man like Edward could feel that strongly for a woman like her. There was so much more to Edward than that kind of emptiness.

The more I thought, the more tangled I became. My lip began to hurt from the way I'd been gnawing at it and I was still answerless by the time Edward pulled into the underground parking lot. He helped me out of the car and we both greeted Patrick, the night security man, who raised his thermal flask to us before settling back down to his Times crossword. Bethune Street was empty as we walked the short distance to the house. The warm glow of the streetlamps beckoned to me though, welcoming me home. We made our way inside all too gladly, though Edward had to hang back to do battle with the alarm system, which received some choice language from the architect when it refused to behave.

"Is it working okay?" I asked, disentangling myself from my coat.

"I'm not sure. I'll call the company on Monday and have them come check it out." Edward strode toward me and took the coat from my arms, placing it on its tree trunk hook before hanging his own up next to it. "I'm not risking the house with a faulty alarm while we're in London."

"But it's a brand new system."

"Probably just teething problems. Nothing to worry about." He kissed the top of my head quickly as he brushed by me, heading for the kitchen stairs. "I'll go check the others out. You want anything brought up?"

I stared after his retreating form and smiled. "A bottle of water and an architect wouldn't go amiss."

He threw a wolfish grin at me as he turned and began to descend.

I made my way upstairs slowly, pausing to remove my boots half way up. It felt good to lay my feet flat against the plush carpet, though they continued to protest their discomfort at being forced into heels as I climbed. I walked through the darkness of my bedroom in search of a lamp switch and spent a solid minute wrestling with various different wires until I had the right one. As the room became bathed in gentle light, I dumped the boots, let out a sigh and sunk onto the mattress.

What a night.

I wondered how on earth Edward and I were going to talk this one out. It hadn't escaped my attention that we'd both been raised by a set of lunatics, though I honestly couldn't figure out how either of us got up every day with the ability to function normally. I'd always been too logic-minded to believe in things like fate, but I was starting to question its interference in mine and Edward's life now. Had fate thrown us together knowing that we'd be able to understand one another's backgrounds? Our upbringings and social standings were worlds apart for sure, but our parents were all just as batshit crazy as each other and as individuals, both Edward and I had, to some degree, managed to survive them.

Oh, if only we could pretend tonight hadn't happened. We could have made our excuses and spent several hours building a blanket fort in bed and hiding from the world like errant children. I guess that was the thing about growing up though; you lose the luxury of ignorance. Refusing to face something today doesn't make it go away, it just makes it show up tomorrow baring teeth. And the older you get, the more aware you become of that.

"Your room tonight, huh?"

I blinked and looked up to find Edward leaning against the doorframe – the way only Edward could. "What?"

His eyes darted around the room. "You want to sleep in here tonight?"

"No. I-I just came in to…" I trailed off.

Why had I come in here? I didn't know. I had pretty much moved into Edward's bedroom recently, at least at night time. I'd even taken over one of his drawers and stuffed it full of pajamas, much to his amusement. I swear he was hiding my things as soon as they needed laundered though, because the drawer was filling up with his shirts – shirts he loved seeing me in. I was only really using my room for closet space and studying lately.

"Are you alright?"

"Sure."

"Bella?"

"Hmm?"

"Bella?"

I snapped my head up. "Yes?"

"You want to talk about it?"

I opened my mouth to answer, and then closed it. I repeated the action until I became so frustrated I groaned loudly and scrubbed my hands across my face. I looked back up at Edward helplessly, hoping he could somehow interpret everything I was thinking and feeling without me scrambling like a crazy person to find the right words.

He kicked off his shoes and walked toward me. When he reached me he bent his knees and brought himself down to my eye level, pulling my arms toward him so that my whole body collapsed straight into him. I buried my face into the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply. "You're okay," he soothed. "We're home."

Home.

I liked that word. It held meaning for me now. It would always be Edward's house of course, but I felt safe and happy here. It was a place where I'd made memories, a place where I felt a sense of happiness that had been lost to me in my old life.

Happy.

I smiled secretly to myself. Yes, I was happy, despite everything that had happened tonight. Here, in this house, in this city – with Edward.

Because of Edward.

And then a thought occurred to me as my eyes caught hold of my charm bracelet. The padlock heart with that five letter word etched into it told me how Edward felt, at least at the time of receiving it. But what about now, after tonight and after all of those things were said? Was he happy…with me? I wasn't sure if I'd ever even asked him that before. And as he held me in his arms, forever giving while letting me take, I realized how selfish that was of me and let the words tumble from my mouth.

"Edward, are you happy?"

His hand clasped the back of my head and began reverently stroking my hair. "Of course I'm happy."

"Really?"

"Really."

I held my breath for a brief moment before releasing it, and steeled myself. "You don't miss Kat-"

"No," he said firmly, cutting off my question before I could finish asking it. "I don't miss Kate or the life I had with her or that period in my life, Bella. You couldn't pay me to leave what I have now to go back to what I had then."

"But wasn't it easier?"

"Easier how?"

Easier than being with me, I thought.

"Well, you didn't have to lie to anybody about your relationship and nobody disapproved, right? Your parents were happy."

"No, we didn't have to lie to anybody. But we were lying to each other about being happy for a long time before we went our separate ways. The relationship ended because we weren't right for each other." He pulled back and ran the pads of his thumbs over my cheeks. "Other people's approval should never be a factor in life, Bella. Don't ever do something because other people want you to. Do it because you want to – because it feels right and good to you. I wouldn't have my company, my experiences or my friends if I'd rolled over and acquiesced to make other people happy. My name wouldn't be known for the reasons I wanted it to be. I wouldn't be able to walk into work every day and feel proud. I wouldn't have travelled or learned from mistakes of my own choosing or known what it was to be content. I wouldn't have you in my arms right now."

I felt my cheeks heat and shifted uncomfortably.

"If Kate and I had stayed together, she wouldn't be marrying the man of her dreams next week – a man who is giving her the fairytale happily ever after she always wanted and the prospect of children she has always desired having. If we were still together I would feel constantly guilty about my work, I would second guess every decision I made and I would have to live with the knowledge that something in my life, be it my work or my relationship, was failing in some small way every day. Staying together would've turned us into my parents eventually. Bitter, resentful and disappointed with life. My parents have never been happy. They don't know how to be. But that's their burden to bear, not mine. And I refuse to sacrifice my own happiness for the sake of making them a little bit less miserable."

"It doesn't bother you, what they said tonight?" I asked timidly.

"They've been recycling those same lines to me most of my life. It's not the words that bother me, it's the change in my mother. I adored that woman as a boy," he smiled sadly. "It's a hard reminder to swallow when she stoops to yet another new low."

"So why go back?"

"Glutton for punishment?" he smirked, before becoming serious once more. "There is very little that woman could do to make me turn away from her completely. I hold her at arm's length out of necessity, Bella, on account of her being totally insufferable ninety nine percent of the time, but she will always be my mother and I will always be grateful to her. She took me in and gave me a home and a family. I could have ended up anywhere, with anyone. Even if they haven't been supportive of me as an adult, look where I am. Support or not, I wouldn't be here without them."

"But what she said, Edward. It was kind of…cruel."

"True," he nodded. "But the funny thing is, I always come away better for it. My eyes open a little wider every time and I suddenly realize something I didn't before."

Edward licked his lips and took my hands in his. He seemed to take a minute to collect himself, and then he gave me a long, intense look. "Esme said what she did because she thought it would have an impact. And maybe once upon a time it would have. Because losing Kate felt like I was playing out a real life tragedy at the time. It hurt me in ways I can't even describe. I can look back now and see that it would never have worked between us, but at the time, watching her leave crippled me. My mother knows this. But Kate is in the past. She meant something to me at one point, but it's all just memories now. Nothing more."

"But you already knew all of that," I said, still not understanding.

"Yes, I did. But when Kate left, I never wanted to feel like that again. I didn't want to experience that kind of pain or put myself in a position that would leave me vulnerable to somebody else's whims. And then one day your profile showed up, and it was just…," he breathed out a laugh. "It was meant to be. You were perfect. You were exactly what I needed. You were the heartbreak that wouldn't happen. What could possibly go wrong, right?"

His fingers moved to grip my neck gently, fusing and locking our eyes together, green on brown, brown on green. What I saw gazing back at me felt surreal. His look felt like it was penetrating its way to my soul, so emotive and potent. He placed a delicate kiss to my lips, but didn't pull away. "You had been here a matter of days when I realized just how stupid I had been to think that. But it was listening to my mother's absurd hindsight tonight that made me realize losing Kate was nothing. I watched you today, Bella. I watched you light up the Central Park ice rink with nothing but your beautiful smile. I watched you sit through an uncomfortable dinner with the kind of grace that can't be learned. I watched you fidget all the way home in the car, working up the courage to ask questions you don't feel you have a right to ask. And all that watching – all that listening? It's done nothing but confirm to me that you are the ultimate tragedy waiting to happen."

I felt my eyes widen into saucers.

"You're going to break my heart, Bella Swan," he whispered, stroking my cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. "But I'm going to let you."

Comprehension didn't settle. Not for the longest beat.

And then it did.

And Jesus Christ.

I started to shake my head. In fact, I think I started shaking everywhere; my body sluggishly bouncing its way toward the panic button. "Ed-Edwa-"

His hands seized my face tightly as he planted a firm kiss to my lips. "Hush," he whispered. "No more words tonight." He kissed me again, harder this time. He kept kissing me until I felt my body eventually melt into him, my trembling hands reaching to cover his as he held onto me. Our fingers twined. Our lips bruised. My breath continued to stutter and my brain finally gave up trying to pump the dreaded alarm into every nerve ending it could entice to react.

As soon as he sensed I was starting to calm, Edward pushed me back onto the bed and blanketed my body with his. His kiss became passion laced and deep, and despite my confusion, despite the screaming questions swirling around inside my head, despite everything that had happened today and the quietly spoken bomb he'd just let off, I kissed him back, matching his fervor with a silent promise to say no more tonight.

His mouth was wet velvet, just as soft and comforting as the promise of it had always been. As our tongues teased and our lips danced to their tune, Edward pushed his body harder against mine, nudging my legs apart to accept his seating between them. I closed my eyes and reveled in his weight as I always did, amazed at how safe and wonderful being smothered in him felt. I found purchase once again in our bubble – our haven away from the eyes and judgement of the world. Dinner was soon forgotten, the Cullen's disapproval no longer mattered and the very real prospect of doing future battle with them was shelved with various other concerns I would deal with later. For now, I would enjoy the sounds, the feelings and the sparks we created together.

Clothes were banished slowly, peeled off between silky kisses, long looks and stuttered breaths. Skin on skin, we moved as one. A tangle of legs and arms and lips. It wasn't enough. So I kissed him deeper, I pulled his hair harder and I clung to his body like he was the only thing keeping me tethered to this planet. It still wasn't enough. He rolled us over, allowing me to straddle him. With our chests smashed together and his hands cupping my backside, I rolled my hips forward on a sudden instinct and felt the long, hard length of him slide against me below. I heard him groan and quickly followed it up with a desperate, throaty moan of my own. That's what I wanted – what I needed. So I did it again. And again. I kept going, relishing the slight friction it awarded me. But all too soon Edward was rolling us over again, placing himself above me. His next kiss was sensual and lasted a lifetime. It was as wonderful as the man himself. But it wasn't enough.

I felt him start to pull away and like a frantic madwomen, I grabbed hold of his arms and dug my nails in, panicked he was about to call time and hurry us off to the land of nod, where my thoughts would resurface and my panic would take up arms against me. My entire being felt like it was on fire, scorched and crackling and hungry for…more.

"Edward, please," I pleaded. "Don't…" I trailed off, swallowing.

Don't leave me like this.

But he wasn't leaving me. He was looking at me. Really looking. I'd seen him do it before. Countless times. This was how he looked when he was silently asking me something. And as his hand glided between the swell of my breasts down toward my bellybutton, it hit me.

He was asking permission.

Oh Edward.

My returning nod was slight, but he caught it.

His eyes burned into mine, watching me closely. His hand finished its journey south and he slipped a finger between my folds. Oh. Slowly, oh-so painfully slowly, it found its way inside of me. I felt my breath whoosh. My legs tensed a little. My toes wanted to curl. And then his finger began to pull away, and I felt like screaming I object! in a very courtroom-like fashion. But then it was there again…and then it wasn't…and then it was. The rhythm he was gradually building was too much and not enough all at the same time. And those eyes of his were still on me.

He shifted a knee to the outside of my leg as he began to lower his head toward me. His lips hovered above mine, dangling in the air like delicious bait. I wanted to reach for them, but didn't dare risk disturbing his hand. Instead, I let my heavy breaths fan across his face and stared straight into his soulful eyes. I didn't blink. I didn't move. I questioned if breathing was even a necessary function. And then his thumb found that little bundle of nerves I'd learned all about in the girl's locker room at school, the one so many of my peers had claimed guys couldn't find with a map and a guide. Edward needed neither. It was instant, like magnets being pulled together by some unknown force. And suddenly, I couldn't keep my eyes open. I couldn't stop my head from craning back. I couldn't stop my legs from widening a little further or the soles of my feet from rubbing up and down against the sheets. The moan that broke free of my throat was short and husky, and my bottom lip became tangled in my teeth. His finger pumped. His thumb rolled. His nose skimmed the length of my neck and ripped a cry from me. His lips left their imprints on my skin as they tracked from the base of my throat to the top of my breast. His tongue flicked across my nipple before his mouth enveloped it gently, laving teasing circles around it. My hands gripped the sheets so damn hard I thought they might tear. I didn't care. I pulled them harder, twisting them around my fingers to the point of numbness. His mouth closed firmly around my nipple and began to pull, and my hips lifted toward his hand in response, inciting and welcoming his finger into deeper depths.

His free hand worked its way into my hair and tugged lightly. At the same time, his teeth pulled at my hardened nipple and he removed his finger from inside of me altogether…and returned with a second for company. I blew out more breath than I realized I was capable of storing. I felt his smile against my flesh as he repeated the action again and again, working his fingers patiently. It soon became evident that the more I tensed, the harder they had to work. It felt so much tighter now. Every time I coaxed my body into relaxing, Edward made a little headway. But that headway made me tense and spasm all over again, and my walls constricted and clung to him like a snake. The feeling was indescribable. As were the sounds. I could just make out the wet noises his fingers made as they slipped out and dipped back inside me. I could hear the slight smacking his lips made against my breasts as he alternated his treatments between the two. I listened as both of us breathed heavier and heavier the longer time stretched on. Even the subtle sound of my feet running over the sheets seemed to heighten.

Edward was in no rush. He took his time. He seemed to enjoy pulling quiet, guttural noises from me as he worked. I could feel myself becoming damper the longer he grafted and in turn, his fingers were able to move more freely despite the internal lock I had on them. But it wasn't until he started to curl them upward that I felt something in my stomach start to sing. While his movements didn't quicken, they did become more intense to bear, especially when his thumb began to apply just a little more pressure. His fingers continued to curl, hitting and stroking something within me that wanted to nail him to the promise of lifelong companionship in a bid to never be left alone ever again. The most indescribable wave of feeling began to mount within me, building and building, getting higher and higher. Every part of my body began to clench, silently screaming for something. I whispered Edward's name desperately between gasps and stutters and gritted teeth.

And then I couldn't breathe.

My body stilled.

His thumb clamped down.

His fingers clamped up from within.

"Look at me, Bella."

I opened my eyes, and the world exploded all around me. A mass of light and stars and static noise engulfed my senses as my body began to spasm, outside and in. It went on and on and I felt my hips buck and then grind against him. The power of it delighted me. It sent me soaring and yet it chained me down, leaving me eventually paralyzed beneath his touch. I couldn't move. I felt heavy and light, tired but…alive. My chest rose and fell heavily as I tried to catch my breath. I lay there, sprawled and numb, blinking at the ceiling.

My god. How did people ever get out of bed?

Edward's fingers and thumb gave one last stroke before stilling completely and pulling away. I vaguely registered the tender touch of his lips against mine, still too high on my climatic peak to begin my descent just yet. I felt his lips track a course down my throat, past my breasts and all the way down my stomach. I giggled, the noise torpid and slow to my ears, as I felt his nose graze and tickle the top of my thigh, only to then move through the small smattering of curls on my-

My eyes practically lunged out of their sockets. But I didn't have time to protest or cringe or even remember the horrible things I'd heard all about this at school, because Edward's tongue licked the length of me, and I think I actually died a little, just…in the best possible way. My high was barely over and my stomach was already frantically racing toward a new one. Edward's hands pushed the backs of my thighs upward, making my knees bend and leaving my feet to dangle above the covers. I cried out loudly when his tongue swept over that tiny, oversensitive nub that was capable of feeling such phenomenal pleasure. My cry transformed into a moan as he did it again and again and again, fusing his lips against me. My hands desperately sought to grab on to something – anything. The sheets, my stomach, my legs…Edward's hair. I felt my fingers splay and pull at it just so that I could do something – anything. The moan he released shot through me and reached my goddamn toes, which twitched gaily in response.

"Oh my god," I rasped, breathless and half insane with this unknown need.

His hands squeezed my thighs as his tongue continued its delicious torture, lapping and pulling at me. And in no time at all, I was climbing again. Up and up and up I went, so much faster this time than before. Within seconds my climax ripped through me like fire seeking oxygen, dancing into every crevice of my body until there was nothing left to burn. My blood cried like a victim of the aftermath, left scolded, singed and sizzling. I felt my legs collapse. My arms dropped like they were suddenly made of lead. I could barely find the effort to fill my chest with air. My eyes closed, now too heavy to blink. I felt exhausted; my body spent. But in the most delectable way.

I felt Edward's arms slip beneath my back and hips, pulling me upward into him. I don't know how he managed it, but somehow he twisted us so that my dead weight was straddling him once again. I felt him scoot us back until he was leaning against my headboard, felt his hands positioning my head on his shoulder and my arms around his neck. And then his fingers were ghosting up my spine as I drifted for what felt like a lifetime, caught up in different states of consciousness.

How did the world manage to keep going around, when all that could be felt? And how was it even possible for one single body to feel that much in the first place?

I blinked my sleepy eyes open and twitched my fingers, finding them working and cooperative once more. My body was coated in a thin sheen of sweat and as I began to stir and drag myself back into conscious reality, I registered the chill that blanched across my skin and shivered.

"Cold?" he asked quietly.

I nodded, nuzzling into his throat.

Edward held me close with one arm as he reached forward and pulled at a sheet from somewhere on the bed beyond. I felt its cool confines cuddle and wrap around me and I sighed a sigh so content, so unbelievably, blissfully, undeniably content, that I smiled into his neck and vowed to myself that I would never question him with my body from this day forth. I would trust him completely.

I tilted my head up only to find him gazing down at me tenderly. I moved my hand to the back of his neck and pulled him toward me, allowing my lips to mold against his for the longest time. I registered the strange, sweet tang and blushed as realization sunk in – that I was tasting myself upon his tongue. But the blush soon faded away, banished from allowing me to feel even the slightest bit embarrassed over something that had felt so wonderful. I wouldn't let my silly ways spoil this. Not tonight.

As we broke apart, I wrapped my arms around him tighter and shifted myself closer, only to feel his hardened length graze against me below. Edward hissed through his teeth, clearly uncomfortable, and I immediately scurried back.

"I'm sorry, I'm sor-"

"It's alright, Bella. Come here," he said, trying to bring me in closer once again.

"But-"

"No buts."

"Yes, but-"

"I said no buts," he smirked.

"Do you want me to…"

Shit. Do what? I wasn't entirely sure how to! I didn't know what he liked!

"No, I want you to come here so I can watch you fall asleep."

"But that can't be comfortable for you."

"It's not. I'm getting cold. Now come here."

I frowned at him through my haze of fatigue. I couldn't just leave him like that, could I? It didn't seem fair. I didn't really have a clue what to do, but surely I could do something? Not just…leave him. We'd been tussling around naked together for weeks and there had been several obvious instances, but we hadn't been there then, not the way we were now. I didn't have the confidence or the knowhow I needed to return the favor without some sort of guidance, and it left me feeling very young and naïve all of a sudden.

Edward reached forward and grasped my chin lightly between his fingers. "Bella, one thing at a time, okay? I'm not pushing you any further tonight. You're exhausted. Please come here."

Almost as if he had willed it to prove his point, I yawned. The fight left my body and I wearily scooted myself back into position, mindful to be careful this time.

I felt bad. Awful, actually.

Edward gently knocked his head against mine as he wrapped his strong arms around me. "I can hear what you're thinking in there. Stop it."

Ignoring him, I yawned and mumbled, "You could show me."

"Not tonight."

I glanced up at him, my smile dozy. "Maybe tomorrow then."

He grinned that wolfish grin of his again and kissed the tip of my nose. "Happily. Now go to sleep."

I caught his lips before he could pull away, the kiss lazy and unhurried. He stroked my face and ran his fingers through my hair, and slowly, I began to drift off peacefully to the feel of his gentle attentions and the sound of his whispered affection.

"Sweet dreams, my beautiful little fish."

Fic Recs:

The Drop by lola-pops - only 11 chapters and unfinished, but incredibly well written and gripping. Give it a try.

Edroar the Angry Lion by Tropical Sorbet - had me in knots today.