Needless to say I'm useless. No two ways about it. I'm lazy, and I let you guys down, and I'm sorry. I had to re-read the last chapter to remind myself what happened in the last chapter, and it's not impressing.

His mind was clouded, eyes blurred, nose running. It was generally not a very good day for Aidan. His mother was a mess. His sister hated his mother. His biological father had just made a reappearance into their lives. Evidently, his presence was most welcome by some. Aidan had always been the peace keeper in their family; he'd always been there to mediate when things between the women in his life got slightly out of hand. He didn't mind it. To him, it was part of the job of being the man of the family – and that's exactly what he was. That's what he was before his mother married, and it's a role he reclaimed after the untimely death of his step father, his real father.

He didn't know where he was going. He was as confused then, as he was when he first left the house. He had no plans on where to go. He just had to leave. He couldn't stand there and listen to Emma speak so ill of their mother, not without saying something that would jeopardise his relationship with his sister. He loved her, just as he loved his mother. Hearing her talk that way about their mother, the woman who had sacrificed so much just so they could be, it hurt him. His mother was not a perfect woman – that he knew. She made mistakes – decisions which he did not approve of, but she was his mother. He loved her; he respected her. It hurt him that his sister was so ready to drop them for someone she'd know for all of two weeks.

Before he knew it, he was back at his own front door, which was slightly ajar. Trying to be quiet as possible, he called for his mother: it wasn't normal for her to leave the door open. He followed her voice, and found her curled on the sofa. His heart broke. Silently, he went and sat by his sobbing mother, pulled her into his arms and rocked her gently. It didn't take a mind reader to know that a few words had been exchanged between his mother and sister. For a while they sat, mother and son – holding each other – both desperately yearning the comfort the other provided.

On the other side of the village, Emma – having calmed down significantly – gently knocked on the door that had quickly become her second home, her only home, now. Behind it stood the person she was so desperate, the one for whom she had burnt so precious a bridge. Wordlessly, her father pulled her into his arms. The girl wept.

Having gained control of her emotions – not without assistance, she suspected – Emma looked at the people gathered in front of her with a new determination. She was sure. She wanted this.

"We get that, love, but we don't want you to sever your relationship with your mother because of us, because of me", her father looked at her, as if trying to spot the slightest sign of hesitation. He did not.

"I can't destroy something which died years ago. She lied to me about something unforgivable. I'm done with her, at least for now."

"What about your brother? Do you realise how difficult it will be for him, having you and your mother at each other's neck?"

"It shouldn't be: he should choose my side. He should choose me."

"Emma, it's not that simple. It doe-"

"It is. I am right, she is wrong. She lied to us. She knew who you were. She knew how much I wanted to know my father, how many times I asked her about you, and she didn't say anything. Besides, we won't be at each other's necks: she doesn't care enough to fight for me." As she said her last sentence, her voice softened as hurt leaked into it. Her mind – despite all her, obviously inadequate, attempts – momentarily flashed back to earlier the same day when she'd screwed at – for lack of a better word – her mother. Desperate for her to say something. To say anything. To fight for her. She didn't. She didn't care.

Bella opened the door to an apprehensive Alice. "Emma sent us to collect her stuff," she said quickly, cowering away as if she was expecting Bella to snap at her for it. She didn't. Instead, she simply stood aside, allowing Alice and Emmett room to enter. Wordlessly, she led them up to her daughter's room, giving them boxed to place her Emma's belongings in, before making her way out.

After they were finished loading boxes, Emmett turned to face Bella, unsure how to deliver his news. A nudge from behind made him blurt his news. She replied "I'm not giving up on her. Emma is a grown woman, fifty-six years, to be exact. I've been babying her, raised her to be rather spoilt. Rude, she is rude. I have failed as a parent. Tell her I'm sorry I failed her. She is my daughter, I love her, but I can't keep doing this. She isn't here; she doesn't want to see me. That's fine. I wish her the best. I wish you the best: I hope you can love her more than I have. I hope she can love you more that she loves me. I hope Edward teaches her better than I could. I have tried my best, given my all to my children, evidently, it wasn't good enough. Please, tell her I'm sorry. Tell her I love her. She knows where I am if she needs me. She has my number. I will always be there for her, but I've got to let her fly the nest at some point; the time has come. Goodbye Emmett, Alice." With that, she gently closed her door and wept.

Always love to hear your thoughts, those of you who are still w me. Paralight4ever, you here?