Disclaimers: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Happy anniversary, NotEventheTrees. It was one year ago today that I started searching for a beta using the keyword "trees". You replied eagerly and have been my greatest supporter. Although our dynamic has changed, my gratitude has only grown. You are now a true friend and I'm so proud of what you've accomplished.

…I will see it through.

I was still seated on the kitchen counter, my limbs wrapped around Edward, kissing him as if my life depended on it. I could easily be distracted by his hands and mouth. I resisted the urge to shift against him, but just barely. I needed to focus and this tomfoolery would not help in the least.

I decided to take action because Edward would've just kept on with his effectively delicious distraction tactics.

"I need a knife," I said suddenly into his slightly open mouth. He pulled away instantly, his body stiff, and frowned.

"Pardon?"

I wiggled against him, too focused now to feel the friction, as I tried to get off the counter. He helped me down, eying me warily the whole time.

"And a bag of produce. Any produce. Onions, tomatoes, potatoes, whatever. I need produce and a knife. Apron? Do you have an apron? A towel will work too. And a cutting board." I was rambling but he couldn't argue with the urgency in my voice. I knew exactly what I'd need to gather my thoughts and clear my head.

I needed to chop produce.

Edward was still staring at me unmoving, so I turned around and started going through drawers, finally finding a brand new knife still held captive in its original plastic. I found an unused honing steel and handed them both to Edward, whose look of alarm still framed his face. He looked like he might bolt out the door or pounce on top of me, I couldn't be sure which.

"Bella?"

I realized quickly how crazy I must look after shoving the packaged knife into his hands and demanding produce. I couldn't help but laugh the kind of laugh that didn't do much to disprove the maniac theory. "I do my best thinking while I am prepping produce. Do you have any bags of perishables that I might hack up? Oh, and could you open the knife? You're stronger than me." I looked at him impatiently, my hands on my hips, toe tapping on the hardwood floor.

Not wanting to wait for him to help, I opened the refrigerator and I pulled the basket of fruits and vegetables out as he easily opened the knife and steel. He set them on the counter very carefully and stepped away slowly. I kept rummaging until I found a drawer of kitchen linens and pulled a towel out to wrap around my waist. Without having to ask, his hands found the edge of the towel and tied it securely at my back.

As I washed my hands, he found a cutting board and several bags of produce in a pantry that I'd overlooked. The kitchen seemed to be stocked for more than an overnight trip.

My eyes lit up as I saw the produce. "Can I have it?" I asked, arms already reaching out to take it from him. Hopefully I wouldn't go through all of it, but I didn't think Edward would mind too much if I shared with a soup kitchen.

"Whatever you need," he replied, as if he was afraid to tell me no. He eyed me cautiously as I began to sharpen the knife. I noticed then how much the boat was swaying. I leaned back on the counter for support and continued sliding the steel up and down the length of the blade. This was just as helpful at calming me as having Edward hold my wrists, but didn't leave me with the same sensation. "What do you need from me?" Edward asked.

I paused for a second, touched that he would even ask while simultaneously postulating that I could be going crazy. However, this was a solitary chore for me. I don't think anyone had watched me chop produce since culinary school and I was not exactly excited about the possibility of it now. Bad things happen with knives when you're scrutinized too heavily. "Would you like to play a song for me?" I suggested as I waved the knife towards the impromptu recording studio that was also the living room. "If you could stay close so I can ask questions as they crop up, that'd be nice too."

"Certainly." Edward was staring at the sharpened blade I just finished waving in the air.

I followed his gaze. "Don't worry Edward, I won't hurt myself. I haven't cut myself since—"

"Monday."

"How do you know that I cut myself on Monday?" I asked him skeptically. Would I ever cease to be amazed at what he knew?

"I noticed your finger had a cut on it last night. It wasn't there when we went on our date. I deduced that it happened while you were at work."

"But I chopped food at Angela and Ben's day before yesterday. How do you know that I didn't cut it then Sherlock?"

"Because of the age of the wound." He says this like it's the simplest and most obvious thing in the world.

"Is that a doctor thing?"

"It's an instinct thing."

"What would happen if I cut myself in front of you Edward?" I asked, half-serious and half-joking. "You know, I haven't heard of many doctors that are afraid of blood."

"Not all blood. Just… yours. Just… promise to be careful and we won't have to test those waters."

After all the peculiar things he's said, I left this one alone. I shrugged, complying. He just didn't want me to hurt myself.

He took a seat at his piano, and watched me as I began slicing the delicate fruits into a large glass bowl. Edward had a journal open on the piano, jotting things down with a mechanical pencil oddly similar to Charlie's as I began to layer the fruits in the bowl.

It didn't take long before I was in the zone and things were coming together for me like I'd hoped they would. I wanted to start from the beginning. What I knew as our beginning anyway.

"Edward, the first time I saw you we were at the airport in New York and I think you saw me and Eric. What did you say when you climbed into the ambulance? Eric swears you said something to me."

He did not look up from the piano to respond. "I said, 'She lives'."

I looked up at him, mid-chop. "You thought I died? Why did you think I had died?"

"Because I had been told as much. But I refused to believe it until I saw your body or at the very least, a headstone."

"Who cares if I'm dead or not?" I spat out, incredulous. Edward's eyes locked on mine and I couldn't take the words back fast enough. "I didn't mean it… like that… I meant… who, besides friends and family, would tell you that I was dead?"

"Those who would want to use that information against me."

I had a sudden revelation. He had said that he refused to believe I was dead unless… "Edward, what do white peonies represent?"

"Forgiveness. And healing."

"So you had someone check on Charlie's grave to see if my body had been buried near his?" I asked, utterly dumbfounded.

"Every day for the last three years."

I chopped slowly now, making perfectly square small strawberry cubes, feeling I was onto something and not wanting to lose the path. "Wait, Charlie's been gone for four years, Edward."

"Yes, but I knew you were safe that year in Europe. When you came back to the United States, I lost you."

"I was trying to fly under the radar. You know, fall off the face of the earth."

"And so you did. Bella?" I meet his worried eyes. "Could you please watch what you're chopping?" I could help but let out a genuine laugh.

I was halfway through my fruit salad when I decided I wanted something heavier to chop. I pulled out the bag of potatoes and began scrubbing them. Hard. I needed to backtrack a bit and retain my earlier line of questioning.

I began thinly slicing the potatoes into round disks as I concentrated on the next time I'd seen him, at the bookstore. We had picked up the same book. Big deal, we talked about it already, we both had an interest in World War I books. He had looked at the nametag on my lanyard, and he'd obviously already known my name.

Then we sang together and he saved Charlie's guitar. "Edward, tell me about the night at the coffee shop. Did you know I was there? Did you know those two guys were going after Charlie's guitar?"

His shoulders slumped minutely, but I could still see it. "I moved to New York immediately after realizing that's where you lived. I had Seth follow you to your home to confirm it. You are a creature of habit, so it wasn't difficult to find out what times you worked and what nights you performed."

"And those two guys?" I pressed, shaking off the confession that he'd had me tailed. "Did you know them?"

"No. But I feel certain that they won't remember me."

"What does that mean?" I wasn't really sure if I wanted to hear the answer.

"It means that I have powerful methods of persuasion. They gave me back Charlie's guitar, the ukulele, and your guitar. They won't remember where you live, what you look like or much of anything for that matter."

I stopped chopping and stared at him. I had seen this just the night before, with the thugs outside One Eyed Pete's. "Edward, you can't just do that to people! What about the police?"

He shrugged, a bit arrogant. "I'm not worried about your police."

"My police? You're not above the law. Unless you answer to higher authorities?" I didn't know why I became so sardonic, but I couldn't help myself all of a sudden. If he'd had such a reverence for Charlie, why would he be so flippant about other police?

"They think of themselves as higher authorities," he replied simply.

"'They' who Edward? Stop with the riddles, please."

"The people I work for—worked for," he corrected himself. "They are above mere human law."

"Human law? That doesn't make any sense. Do you, I mean did you, work for the mob or something?" That would explain the security on the houseboat.

"No, not the mob," he said with a note of finality.

I became frustrated. I would have to approach this line of questioning from another direction. Charlie taught me that. So I calmed myself as best I could before starting again. The potato sack was now empty and we had enough au gratin potato slices to feed an army. I skipped past the onions as I didn't want excessive tears and went for the tomatoes. They needed a softer touch and a gentler hand or I'd be making tomato sauce. I had no choice but to calm down.

The penguin habitat. We next saw each other at the penguin habitat. He followed Eric and me there, that much was certain. We talked about little of consequence, right? Except for the mating habits of penguins. That reminded me of something he'd said. "Edward, you corrected me when I said that penguins mate for life."

"Yes, I remember."

Apparently, I needed to lead the witness. "And you said that one species mates for life, but we got interrupted by a text from Eric or something."

"The text was from Angela," He corrected. I stood there waiting, not letting him off the hook. "Vampires. I started to say that vampires mate for life."

"Why would you say something like that?"

"Because it's true. Google it some time." I could sense that he was shutting down. I didn't know if I was scratching the surface or making blind stabs at truth, confusing myself even more. The concert he'd been playing turned from something melancholy to something a bit more than tempered.

I stayed quiet, thinking of our next encounter as I began washing my hands. It was our date. The concert, dinner, and the movie at Bryant Park. I didn't want to over-analyze our perfect date, but despite that there were questions that I still needed to ask. "When we played two truths and a lie, which of your statements were lies?" I whispered as I stared out the window at the clouds that threatened to permeate my very skin.

Edward was behind me in a flash, pinning me gently against the sink. "I've only ever lied to you once Bella," he breathed into my ear, distracting me. My concentration was almost completely dissolved in that instant.

"When?" I managed. "When did you lie to me?"

"Last night." He turned me around and cupped my jaw in his hands before kissing me in a successfully diversionary tactic. My wet arms hung loosely at my sides.

Reality surfaced for a moment and when his lips moved to my neck, I got a chance to speak. "Do you love me, or was that the lie?"

He shut his eyes tightly and shook his head. "If the world was based on one truth and one truth alone, it's that I love you. I know it's difficult for you to believe that now, but I will spend every moment of forever telling you and proving it to you however you might require."

Instead of being overjoyed at his declaration, I wanted to unlearn everything I'd just learned. If he hadn't lied during our date then all of those extraordinary things he'd said about himself were true.

I wanted to go back into my blissfully ignorant bubble.

I wanted to take everything back except the fact that I loved him.

But you can't turn back the hands of time.

I love him, and he loves me and I will see it through.

"There is more, isn't there?" I asked, sighing.

"Yes."

"Tell me."

"I've been taking care of Charlie's home, in the hopes that you would return to Forks alive. I tried purchasing the home on a number of occasions, only to have the bank tell me that they could not reach you, only your mother. I do not understand why you stayed away all those years. I have to assume it had something to do with Jacob Black."

"Yes," I replied. I felt his arms shaking against my torso, anger welling in him at the knowledge that Jacob was the reason for my absence.

"I knew exactly what he was thinking when the two of you were sitting on that porch, the things he would've tried to accomplish had he succeeded in getting you inside your house. I can read minds Bella. Yours is the only mind that is closed to me."

I began sobbing into his chest. He could read minds, except for mine? Then he knew Eric's thoughts, the night at the coffee shop. When Edward tapped his temple and said he had a sense about people, he was dead right. He knew how Charlie felt about me. He knew the inner workings of Jacob's mind and was told not to interfere by my own father, his friend.

It felt like the proverbial straw and camel's back scenario.

"Why did this happen to you?" I cried, finally at my breaking point.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered as he rubbed soothing circles on my neck, trying to ease my discomfort.

I cried harder still as he held me and ran his fingers through my hair. I eventually collapsed and he carried me from the kitchen to one of the studio couches. He knelt on the floor beside me, his fingertips always keeping contact with my skin.

"I want to make love to you again," he confessed.

My eyes opened to find him just there, within arms' reach. Sadness permeated his every beautiful feature. All I had to do was say yes and we could forget about everything for awhile. I could revel in him, and he in me. The magic of the previous evening could spill onto another day. But all I could manage to do was ask, "Why?"

"Because I don't want last night to be it. I may not be able to read your mind but I sense you pulling away. You are in the process of rebuilding your wall and trying to protect yourself, which you have every right to do.

"Let me tell you that there is no one in the world that could protect you like I can. Like I will continue to do every day of forever. Even if you push me away now, I will never be far. You could whisper my name from a hundred miles away and I would be by your side in an instant.

"But once you learn what I have brought upon you and your family, you may hate me. And it is a lot for me to ask you to continue to trust me after you learn exactly why."

Of course there was more to the story. I didn't have it all yet and I wasn't ready for more now. I was exhausted emotionally and physically. But I didn't want to tell him no, to reject him. And I could not, in good conscience, tell him yes. Even though I wanted to.

Oh, how I wanted to.

"Edward. Please. I… I… can't."

"Is it because you don't love… me…?"

I shot upright on the couch, startling both him and myself. "If you know anything about me Edward, you'll know that once I make a decision about something, I stick with it. My mind's made up. I've told you that I love you and I mean it.

"I am just trying desperately to process what you're saying and try to make sense of it all." This time it was him that went to interrupt but I continued, looking at him as sternly as I could manage but lowering my voice to a more even cadence. "I am not saying no, I am saying not now.

"I am here in Seattle for Angela, Maggie and Ben. I will go with you to Forks tonight, and we can continue this conversation on our drive." I placed my hand over his, comforting him as best I knew how. "Okay?"

"Yes."

"Will you… will you come with me to meet Angela and Maggie?"

Edward glanced over his shoulder to look at the cloud cover out the large glass front of the houseboat. "I will, but I won't be able to stay long unfortunately."

Before I could stop myself, I asked, "What happens to your skin when you're in the sunlight?"

"I'll show you sometime. I promise."

I nodded, knowing he meant it. I trusted that.

I love him, and he loves me and I will see it through.