"Chronic remorse, as all the moralists are agreed, is a most undesirable sentiment. If you have behaved badly, repent, make what amends you can and address yourself to the task of behaving better next time."

~ Aldous Huxley, Brave New World

o-o-o-o-o-o

Charlie stood awkwardly in the hallway outside Bella's room. This was not going to be a fun conversation, but it was long overdue. He took a deep breath to center himself before knocking gently on the door.

"Bella?"

"Go away."

"I want to talk to you about what happened."

"Why? It's not like you wanted to talk to me about it before Esme called you out." He winced, but couldn't deny the truth in her words.

"Just open the door, kid."

Bella sighed, then heaved herself off of the bed. She took her time crossing the room, and only opened the door just enough to peek out into the hallway.

"Yes?" she asked, her voice saccharine sweet.

"Come on, Bells. Let's be adults about this. Come downstairs. I made cider," he offered, not above bribing her with her favorite autumn drink.

She huffed, but opened the door wider and stepped into the hallway, giving Charlie a wide berth. Without looking back, she clomped down the stairs and dropped into a chair at the dining room table.

"Well?" she goaded when Charlie had settled himself across from her.

He narrowed his eyes at her disrespectful tone, but bit his tongue. He knew chiding her on her tone would only serve to alienate her further at this point.

"Look, I know you don't agree with my reasoning -" he started.

Bella interrupted by snorting, "Obviously," under her breath. He gave her a pointed look before clearing his throat and repeating. "I know you don't agree with my reasoning, but I truly did think it was the best way to protect you."

"Why? What on earth could make you think that was a good idea?"

"Bella, you're my little girl. I'm supposed to keep you safe, protect you from all the bad things in the world. When you were little, and the biggest thing I had to protect you from was the monsters in your closet, I could handle that. But, when your mom left... I couldn't protect you from that, and it killed me. I swore to myself to never let you get hurt like that again."

"But Edward and Esme and Carlisle aren't Mom. And it's not like they just packed up in the middle of the night and were suddenly gone. I knew they were moving. I wasn't happy about it, but I had a little time to prepare. And then you preyed on my insecurities and kept them away from me."

"Do you remember those first few months, just after Mom left?"

Bella frowned at his sudden change in topic. "Yes?"

"Do you remember getting those postcards from your mom?"

Bella thought back, fuzzy memories of colorful postcards from far-away places and grand stories of adventures. They'd showed up every few weeks for a few months, then slowly tapered off. "Yes," she affirmed.

"Do you remember what happened each time you got one of those?" When Bella furrowed her brows and shook her head no, Charlie sighed, then smiled ruefully. "Your face would light up like a Christmas tree, and you'd run up to your tree house and just sit up there for hours, studying every little thing about the cards. You'd tell me all about it over dinner. And then the next day, you'd run down to the mail box, so hopeful that there would be a new note from her. Of course, there wasn't, and you tried so hard not to show how disappointed you were, but it was obvious. But you kept going down to the mail box, getting more and more upset with each day that passed without a new postcard."

"As time went on, the postcards got further and further apart, and you would get more and more depressed. At one point, when it had been nearly two months since her last postcard, there were a few weeks where you didn't come out of your room except for school and to go to the bathroom. The only way I could get you to eat was to send Edward in with your supper. I didn't know what to do for you. It's not like I could make it better, make it go away. You were a little girl who'd lost her mother, but without the decency of a clean break. She kept stringing you along, keeping your hopes up, when she and I both knew she had no intention of coming back."

"So, when I learned the Cullens were moving to Alaska, I was afraid the same thing would happen again, except on a bigger scale. You'd already lost your mom, so you were sensitive to that kind of thing, and rightfully so, but you were also so dependent on Edward. I knew that if he did to you what your mom did, you'd never recover."

"Then you had Rosalie, and then Emmett, and it seemed like you were doing ok with moving on. I know you don't agree with what I did, but I honestly thought it would be easier for you if you had a clean break," he finished, letting out a long breath.

Bella sat back in her chair, absorbing Charlie's words and collecting her thoughts. Finally, she spoke. "You're right," she said softly. "I don't agree with what you did. I think it was overbearing and cruel to make that decision for me."

"I understand that," he interjected. "But, Bella, this is the 21st Century. Letters aren't exactly the first choice of communication for most people. I figured if he was writing you letters, you'd already made the break in electronic communications, and I was just saving you from having to ignore him in a different medium."

Bella cringed, but couldn't deny he had a point. Edward would never have had to resort to writing her letters if she hadn't ignored his emails and texts. Still... "Maybe the letters would have convinced me I'd made a mistake in cutting him off," she argued. "They could have shown me how serious he was about staying a part of my life."

Charlie shrugged. "Maybe. But there's no point arguing the what-if's. I can't change what I did. And I know it sounds harsh, but by my way of thinking, if your own mother could just up and abandon you... what's to say that he couldn't do the same thing to you?"

"But Edward wasn't like Mom," Bella started to argue, but Charlie interrupted her gently.

"You didn't know that at the time, Bella."

She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled. "Neither did you," she huffed, and he held his hands up in surrender.

"Look, you're my baby girl. No matter how old you get, you are always my baby girl, and it's always going to be my job to try to protect you from the evils of the world. I was just trying to protect you. Now, in hindsight, I probably ended up causing more hurt than I prevented. But, I'm also honestly glad they're back in your life. I just want what's best for you, and I haven't seen you so happy in a really long time. And I don't want you to hate me."

"Dad," Bella sighed, scrubbing her hands over her face. "Yeah, ok. It was shitty. And I get the whole 'hindsight is 20/20' thing, but it's just so fucked up. I can't just be over it, you know? I need time to work through everything. I don't hate you, but I'm still pissed."

Charlie pushed his chair back from the table and stood, dropping his hand to Bella's shoulder. "I can understand that, honey. I just want you to be happy."

"Edward makes me happy," she murmured.

"I know, honey," he said, squeezing her shoulder gently before heading upstairs.

Bella slumped against the back of her chair, the emotional weight of the past few days settling heavily over her. She never thought she'd say this, but going back to class would be a relief; at least in her classes there was a definitive right answer.

o-o-o-o-o-o

A/N: Oh, Charlie...so he may have gone about things the completely wrong way, but he really was trying to protect her. Dads do that sometimes.

See you Saturday!