A/N: Thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews! Don't think for a second that I don't appreciate every single word you guys write, just because I'm terrible at responding. Then again, I figure you'd rather have another chapter soon than a review reply.

EPOV

Esme was standing in front of the stove when I entered the kitchen, and I glanced at my watch, surprised when I realized how late it was. "Hi, Edward. Dinner will be ready in..." she turned to look at me over her shoulder, and her face fell. "What's wrong?" she asked immediately, an alarmed note in her voice, and I forced back a sigh.

"Nothing." I avoided her eyes and walked past her, heading for the fridge in search for something cold to drink. Hell, it didn't even have to be cold, as long as it was drinkable. For some reason, my throat felt as dry as if had I been spending the last couple of days wandering around the desert, and I had a feeling I was starting to experience the aftermath of my earlier breakdown.

"Don't ruin your appetite before dinner," Esme warned softly, although she still had a somewhat worried look on her face. I could feel her eyes on me, even as I was standing with my back towards her, and suppressed the urge to roll my eyes.

"Just having a drink," I assured her sullenly as I grabbed a carton of milk, pleased to notice it was almost full. Tilting my head back, I quickly gulped down half of the contents at once. Then I put the carton back on the shelf with a contented sigh, and closed the door to the fridge.

If I had expected Esme to drop the subject and turn her attention back to whatever it was she had cooking on the stove, I was mistaken. "Now will you please tell me what happened? Are you okay?"

I held back a groan, as I was really not in a mood for this. The truth was, I was exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to just skip dinner and head straight for bed. But I decided against it, knowing it would only add to her concern. Esme had always been able to see right through me.

"I'm fine. Just been a long fucking day." A part of me just wanted to tell her to back the hell off, but the emotional events of the day had left me feeling completely drained of energy, and I was too tired to argue. With any luck, she would take the hint and let it go. After all - she wasn't Alice.

Then again, Esme could be almost as persistent if she wanted to, and now, she clearly decided to try a different tactic. "Weren't you out with Bella?" I nodded, somewhat reluctantly. "How is she?"

"She's..." I stopped as an image of Bella's shocked, tearful face flashed before my eyes. She had been quiet on the way back, although she had given me a soft smile and squeezed my hand when I dropped her off at her house, less than an hour ago. And she had hinted that she would like for us to spend some more time together this weekend. I had no problem with that.

But I couldn't help but worry about what might be going on inside her head now, when she'd had some time to process the pieces of information I had given her. While I knew Bella had it all mostly figured out by now, I had been deliberately vague about the details, or to be more accurate - I hadn't really given her any details at all.

In a way, it was almost a relief that Bella knew. Because it was absolutely exhausting to be in constant fear of what her reaction would be when, or if, she would ever happen to find out. Now I didn't have to worry about that anymore. In fact, she had taken the whole thing way better than I had ever dared to hope she would.

Of course, that didn't make the shame go away.

"Edward?" Esme's worried voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and I blinked in confusion, having almost forgotten she was still in the room.

When my eyes turned to her in question, she gave me a remorseful look. "I don't mean to pry. I can tell you don't really want to talk to me. But you have to understand; I'm only asking because I care about you. I want to know what's going on in your life. If something's troubling you..." she left the rest of the sentence hanging, a pained expression on her face.

I felt really bad. Deep down, I realized she just meant well. And yet, my instinct kept telling me to push her away. I knew Esme cared about me, and it made me feel guilty for wishing she didn't. Closing my eyes for a moment, I then let out a sigh. "I talked to Bella, all right? About..." I grimaced, looking down at my feet, "...my past."

Somehow, saying it out loud like that made it feel so much more real. I shivered.

Esme's sharp intake of air made me look up, and my eyes widened when I noticed she seemed to be on the verge of tears. After a brief moment's hesitation, she turned off the stove and removed the large saucepan, putting it carefully down on the sink. "Oh, I see. How much did you tell her?" Her voice was trembling, slightly.

I struggled against the panic threatening to well up inside me. In that moment, I really wished I hadn't brought it up. Because Esme was obviously getting emotional already, and I didn't think I could handle any more fucking drama today. I just wanted to crawl into my bed and sleep for a week.

Folding my arms protectively across my chest, I shrugged and looked away. "Not much, really. But she..." I swallowed, "...she kind of figured the rest out by herself. I mean, it wasn't like I had fucking planned to tell her, I just..." I shrugged again, not knowing how to go on.

"Oh, Edward..." Esme instinctively reached out a hand towards me, then seemed to remember herself and quickly pulled it back. She took a deep breath. "How... how did she take it?" I could tell by her hesitation that she was afraid of asking. Or maybe she was more afraid of the answer.

"She..." I felt how my heart started beating faster, and the kitchen suddenly felt as hot as a fucking sauna, making it hard for me to breathe. Struggling to pull some air into my lungs, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to focus on my breathing. "She doesn't hate me," I managed to get out as I opened my eyes again, feeling like the whole room was spinning.

"Hate you?" Esme gasped, staring at me in shock. "Of course Bella doesn't hate you, why on earth would you think...?" She stopped herself, hesitating a little before she went on, somewhat nervously, "Edward, sweetie, you need to calm down, or you're going to pass out. Just breathe."

"I am fucking breathing!" I hissed, glaring at her. I'd had plenty of panic attacks before, and this one wasn't so bad. On a scale from one to ten, it might be a six or a seven. But Esme had never been able to handle my humiliating episodes as well as Carlisle; although she would always do her best to remain calm and supportive, I could tell it was freaking her out every time.

It made me feel both annoyed and guilty at the same time.

"All right, that's good. You're doing fine." She paused. "I'll get you some water. Will you please sit down?" I obeyed without a word, slowly walking over to the table, and slumped down on the chair as Esme hurried over to the sink. She cast a worried look at me over her shoulder. "Are you feeling better?" I just nodded, not missing the relief on her face. A moment later, she put a large glass of water down in front of me.

Mumbling a 'thanks', I picked up the glass and drank some of the water, more for her sake than for my own. She watched me silently for a moment, then - obviously deciding that I wouldn't fall apart completely - sat down across the table. When I showed no sign of picking up our conversation where we left off, she finally spoke up, quietly, "Can you try to explain to me what you meant before? About Bella?"

I sighed. "It doesn't matter. You wouldn't understand."

Esme opened her mouth, and then closed it again. For a couple of seconds, she just looked at me, an unreadable expression on her face. "Maybe I would, if you'd just give me a chance," she finally said in a low voice, firmly holding my gaze.

Giving her a skeptical look, I then lowered my eyes. "Don't feel like talking anymore," I muttered, petulantly.

"Okay. Fine." I could hear frustration in her voice, although she clearly tried to hide it. "Just tell me something, Edward. Do you even want me to understand what you're going through? Did it ever occur to you that people are trying to help you?"

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I'm beyond fucking help?" I threw back, sarcastically. My head was starting to hurt, and it was all just becoming too much. I wanted nothing more than to just get up and leave, but at the same time, I felt like I didn't have enough energy left to move.

"That's just ridiculous," Esme stated, then shook her head, sadly. "Edward, I think it's wonderful that you feel comfortable talking to Bella. She's a lovely girl, and it's obvious that she cares about you, deeply. Don't you see? She would never hate you. If anything, I bet she only respects you more now when you've opened up to her."

I swallowed. "But she should hate me. I don't know why she keeps putting up with me. I'm not..." I closed my eyes, feeling the tears burning behind my eyelids. Inhaling shakily, I went on, "You're right - Bella does care about me. She's been nothing but nice to me, and I keep screwing up. And now she knows I'm... that I was... and she just... she's not..." A tear trickled down my cheek, and I furiously wiped it away.

"She's not... what, sweetie?" Esme asked in a soft voice.

"She's not leaving!" I choked out, forcing back a sob. Apparently, I was still an emotional wreck, and I hated it. I couldn't do anything about it, though. "She's not leaving," I repeated, struggling to keep my voice from cracking, "and I don't understand why."

Esme was quiet for a moment. "If I tell you what I think, will you listen?" I nodded and took a deep breath, trying to get my emotions under control. "Well, from what I've seen so far, Bella is a kind, sweet and compassionate young girl. But she's also strong and stubborn, and I don't mean that in a bad way. She knows what she wants, and she's obviously very mature for her age."

I just looked at her and waited for her to go on, not sure where she was going with all of this. When she spoke up again, I got the feeling she was choosing her words very carefully, "It's a funny thing about people. Sometimes when you meet a person, you hit it off right away. It's all about chemistry. The feeling isn't always mutual, but sometimes, everything just clicks."

She paused, allowing her words to sink in. "It's not always an instant attraction, though. And don't get me wrong - when I say 'attraction', I don't necessarily mean it as between lovers. The same goes for friends. The point is, you see something in this person, something special. And then, you just know."

I frowned. "Know what?"

Esme smiled. "That you will be good for each other."

BPOV

Charlie was seated in the living room couch when I got home, watching TV with a beer in his hand. Although when he spotted me, he quickly put the bottle down with a somewhat guilty look on his face. "Hey, Bells. I was just about to start making dinner." A beat. "Um, I'm not sure what we have, though. What would you like?"

I rolled my eyes. So much for Charlie volunteering to cook for once. "That's okay, Dad. I'm not really hungry, anyway. Whatever you want is fine by me."

"Oh." He thought about it for a moment. "Maybe I'll just order pizza, then."

Managing a small smile, I nodded in agreement. "You do that. I'll just head upstairs." I turned to leave.

"Wait a minute." I stopped with a sigh, looking at him over my shoulder. "How was your..." He cleared his throat, apparently not comfortable uttering the word 'date', and started over, "Did you and Edward have a good time?"

I hesitantly bit my lip. As always, I'd enjoyed every second spent with Edward, but I didn't think 'good' was the right way to describe it this time. Although I had done my best to push it all to the back of my mind on the way back from the meadow, my head was reeling with the horrible revelation of what Edward had been through. And I feared I wouldn't be able to keep it together much longer.

"Sure, Dad," I mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "It was great. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to lay down for a while. I'm kinda tired."

He frowned, but - much to my relief - didn't object. "All right. I'll let you know when the pizza gets here." I just nodded, knowing I would not be eating anything tonight. As I headed for the stairs, Charlie called me back for the second time, "Oh, Bella, before I forget. Phil called while you were away. I told him you'd get back to him."

I closed my eyes for a moment, holding back a groan. This was just about the last thing I needed at the moment. Because I knew what was coming. "I'll give him a call tomorrow," I sighed, giving Charlie a look to indicate it was the end of the discussion. There was just no way I would deal with Phil tonight, on top of everything else.

Charlie nodded in acceptance. "Okay." Then he turned his attention back to the TV, and I was finally able to retreat to the merciful quiet of my room.

However, once upstairs, it didn't take long for me to find the silence I had desired so much to be more of a curse than a blessing. Because I was no longer able to keep the disturbing thoughts away. I kept seeing Edward's haunted face, the raw pain in his eyes.

"You should be fucking disgusted."

I swallowed hard as the sound of his tortured voice filled my head, the words causing my heart to ache and my eyes to well up. At the time, my priority had been to comfort him, to just let him know I was there for him and wanted to ease his pain. But now when I was all alone, the horrifying truth was finally sinking in.

And it was killing me.

Hit by a sudden wave of simultaneous exhaustion and anguish, I slid down on the floor, wrapping my arms tightly around myself and burying my face in my knees. Then I finally allowed the tears to fall. I cried for Edward, for the horrors he had been forced to endure, the pain he had suffered, both physically and mentally. And I cried for the injustice of it all.

Edward had been sexually abused, and that by a man who should have been a substitute for his father. A man who should have cared for him, supported him, and treated him like a son. A man who instead had taken advantage of a vulnerable, impressionable child, and hurt him in the worst possible way.

Nausea welled up inside me, and I was just barely able to reach for the waste basket - luckily standing only a few feet away - before outright emptying the contents of my stomach. Gasping and sobbing, I used my sleeve to wipe my mouth, too far gone in my misery to be grossed out.

What struck me as most upsetting was the fact that Edward obviously blamed himself for the whole thing. I didn't know whether or not that was common in similar situations, as I was not the least bit familiar with the tragic subject of child abuse in any form, but then again, I figured it didn't matter. Because it was just plain wrong.

I wanted to rant and scream and curse at the cruel, sadistic bastard who had hurt my Edward so badly. James. That was his name. For some reason, just hearing the name in my head made me see red. As I recalled Edward telling me James had been shot by the police and was now in a coma, I wished I had a way of finding out exactly where he was.

Because in that moment, I would have happily pulled the plug, without hesitation.

My blind hatred for this man almost frightened me, as I had never before loathed another human being so much, especially not someone I had never met. I didn't even know what he looked like, and yet, I wanted him dead. A part of me realized it was probably not healthy to let myself become so consumed by rage, and that I should instead focus on helping Edward.

But I just couldn't help myself. And besides, right now, it was a lot easier to deal with my anger, than with the grief and despair lingering just beneath the surface, threatening to overcome me. Taking a couple of deep breaths, I shook my head to clear my frenzied thoughts, and pushed the waste basket away with a grimace.

Slowly pulling myself up from the floor, I cringed at the sour taste in my mouth, but was too emotionally worn out to leave my room and head for the bathroom so I could rinse my mouth with water. Instead I all but crawled over to the bed, where I curled up in a fetal position and pulled a blanket over my shivering body. Then I closed my eyes, wishing I would - by some miracle - fall asleep.