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BSPOV:

It's an overcast, gray morning as I wake.

With my eyes closed, I search around me blindly for Edward's body with my hands underneath the sheets. Just like last time, the bed is completely empty. I slowly open my eyes and have to blink a little to adjust to the blinding white light that is leaking in through the open curtains.

Where is Edward? Where has he gone off to?

Then I remembered, just as suddenly, that he was probably just having a shower again, like the other morning I had spent here, only now this house, Irina's house, was to be my home, for a little while...

I smile to myself as I think back to what I did last night; I had told Edward that I loved him, at last. There were no doubts about my feelings now. I love him! I actually love somebody! My heart surges as his face comes into my mind, the way he smiled, so beautifully and contentedly, when I had told him.

And he had said it in return!

It was amazing how that knowledge alone took over so much relief and excitement for the future and what we had together. Not only the numerous possibilities for a future with Edward, but the fact that I am late – the fact that I may or not be pregnant - because we hadn't used contraception...

I try my very hardest not to beat myself up over that daunting fact, but I can't help but imagine, just imagine for one second what Edward would be like as a father. It was a very hard concept to take in.

My mind is suddenly blank as I hear the bedroom door slowly creak open, and the scuffle of someone's shoes against the carpet. I close my eyes, pretending to be fast asleep, and my mind still as I listen to the noises coming from the bed opposite me. The bed squeaks as someone lies down, pressing their chest against me, warming my back.

I realize its Edward when I feel him take gentle hold of my elbow and I stir slowly, rolling over on my back, and my eyes flutter open to discover Edward is staring down at my face. The expression on his face haunted me in that moment; his eyes were rimmed red, as though he had been crying just a while ago, his bronzed hair sticking up in all possible directions. Something is obviously bothering him.

I panic. "Edward," I whisper, concernedly. "What's wrong? Do you feel sick?"

He doesn't say anything, just stares at my face. He presses his lips together; he is pale and hollow-eyed and doesn't say a single word. He runs his hand down my arm, a caress. What is going on? What am I meant to do? Just lay here while he doesn't say a single darned thing and watches me?

And then, just as suddenly, I put two and two together as he tries to peel up the shirt I'm wearing with his hands. Does he want us to make love now? "Edward, I can't right now..." I tell him urgently.

I can tell he is offended. He pulls himself up and away from me, so that he is leaning against the headboard. He passes a hand over his face, then sighs shakily. He covers his face in his hands, so I can't make out his expression properly, and how much I've hurt him. "You don't want me, love," he says in a hushed whisper. "I understand that now..."

I sit up. "Don't talk like that," I say loudly. "I'll always want you! I do want you." I try to pull his hands away from his face, but he is too strong for me. I suppose I'll have to settle to talking to him just as he is, then, with his handsome face covered. "Only... we can't do this. Not now." I swallow nervously. "I'm nervous about... seeing Charlie today."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, ever," Edward mumbles, rubbing his forehead with his hands. "Nor do you have to lie."

How dare you say that? "I'm not lying!"

"So, love, you're not lying about being anxious seeing your father today?" He lets his hands fall from his face at last, and I find him looking at me dubiously. Then Edward suddenly bursts out laughing softly, hysterical, and I feel the rage simmering inside of me.

I clamp my mouth tightly shut, trying to control my fury. Then, by accident I think, I blurt out the worst thing I could have probably said right now. "Edward, I'm late..."

Edward's laughter abruptly falls short as he glances up at me, still, waiting for me to say more. "Late for what, love?" he asks confusedly, the corners of his mouth pulled down into a frown. Then his mouth twitches, on the verge of laughter once more, his green eyes twinkling. "An appointment of some sort? A medical examination, perhaps?" He smiles at me crookedly.

"I'm..." Here goes nothing. I regard him miserably, and he finally sees that I'm serious and that this is something that is deeply concerning me. "I'm due for my period and I still haven't gotten it. I usually get it around this time, and I still haven't." I hang my head, afraid to look at him. "I'm scared I might be... pregnant." My voice breaks on the last word.

There is long torturous moment of silence where Edward is quiet, thinking this through. Then he takes gentle hold of my hands, which are clasped tightly in my lap. "And have you known this for a while now, love?" he asks softly. I can't tell by the sound of his voice if he sounds angry or disappointed or not.

"I realized when you were still in the hospital unconscious..." I admit, shakily.

He thinks it through for a moment. "Hmm. And you knew all through then, and this was concerning you, and you didn't even tell me?" He sounds offended, I realized then.

"It didn't seem right telling you... after what you've been through, with overdosing and finally visiting your mother. I think you have enough to deal with already right now, without me complicating things even further."

"Either way, it doesn't matter." He takes me in his arms, and holds me to him tightly. Thank God, I think to myself as I rest my forehead against his chest. Thank God he's not angry. He's neutral about all of this... "You should have told me straight away regardless, love," he mumbles against my hair. "We should have carried the burden of not knowing for certain together..."

"What happens if it's positive and it turns out that I am pregnant?" I breathe, feeling a little teary. I think about what could happen if it did; I imagine Edward holding a baby girl wrapped in a bundle of pink sheets protectively in his arms. Could it really be that bad?

"If so, this could be good for me, love." He presses his mouth to my forehead. "If it's meant to be, it's meant to be. When we're done at your father's house, taking some of your clothes, we'll pick up a test, all right?"

I'm suddenly even more nervous and tense at the sound of buying a test. "What if all the stores are closed?" I ask miserably, but then realized it was probably only wishful thinking on my part.

If we brought a test, it would inevitably cause us to know whether things would be dramatically changing around us. Of course, while I knew the whole purpose of a pregnancy test was to do exactly just that, it was incredibly daunting all the same. In a way, I felt more content not knowing...

"Yeah, well." I feel Edward raise his shoulder underneath me and shrug. "I'll drive around all night if I have to, love."

It was then that I realized, with how he said it, so determined and as though it was no big deal to him, that I got to thinking that perhaps maybe Edward wanted this? And that maybe, just maybe, despite what was going on erratically inside of him, that this could be good for him, and that he would most likely make a great, doting young father to a child. But something deep inside of me told me that I still wasn't ready for this and what motherhood would bring...

Somehow, despite how callous it made me seem, dealing with Edward right now and his recovery and medication-taking was more than enough for me to handle. I knew the qualms of pregnancy would complicate things ever further...

A new feeling was weighing heavily down onto my conscience as we arrived at Charlie's.

Charlie's rusty cruiser was parked conspicuously in the drive way, which meant that I had no other option but to try my very hardest to ignore him. Edward agreed to wait patiently in the car and I could tell he could see that I was anxious.

I took my time trudging up the steps and as I unlocked the front door of the house and pushed it open, I realized the house was absolutely quiet. Where is Charlie? I wondered as I closed the door behind me as gently as I possibly could.

I spent the next few minutes up in my room, gathering some clothes and filling my make-up bag with necessities. It was only then, as I was doing up the zipper on the bag and peering through the yellow lace curtains that were rippling sightly from the light breeze through my half-way opened window, that I heard a shimmer of tense voices from outside.

My eyes flit down to Edward's Volvo, the faint sunlight glinting off the exterior blindingly, and it was then that I realized the door on the side he had been sitting in was wide open. Edward was no longer sitting in there, from what little I could manage to see. The car was completely abandoned.

Oh, please everything be all right!

I take a deep breath as I pull the straps of my full backpack around my shoulders and head to the door. I turn around on the spot for a moment, observing my empty looking room with despair. I was going to miss the comfort of my room – and the so many memories that came along with it.

Tread carefully and slowly, I tell myself as I close my bedroom door securely shut, my eyes brimming with tears as I slowly climb down the staircase, the floorboard squeaking underneath my sneakers with every wary step I took. Halfway down the staircase, I heard the voices more clearly:

"What?" Edward was speaking to someone, his voice clear and full of agitation. "Excuse me, what did you say?"

There's a loud clutter of noise coming from the kitchen, something breaking, and then someone groans loudly, an agonizing sound that seemed to bounce off the kitchen walls.

Charlie?

I am still, holding my breath, clutching the wall for support so I don't trip down the staircase. All the little hairs on the top of my scalp rose, my heart racing in panic. What is going on in there?

I reach the bottom of the steps and then hesitate before peeking around the corner. The sight leaves me tightly coiled in fear. Edward is holding Charlie, my father, flat against the wall, his hands clutching at the front of my father's collar. Charlie is sweating heavily and tries to strain against Edward's hold.

He looks at Edward with an expression of immense hatred, his cheeks flushed pink. "I... I didn't mean to hit her." Charlie is breathing strenuously, his breaths coming out in long, whistling whinnies.

"Still, if you touch my wife again, I will not hesitate to remove your filthy hands from your arms permanently," Edward tells him, his voice so chilling and full of warning that it shook me.

His wife? Oh please, no! Please don't let him go back there again... I plead and plead to a higher power. But, it seemed, no matter how much I tried to plead, no one seemed to want to answer and reassure me that Edward was getting better and that I had nothing to worry about. For once in my life, I felt as lonely as I could possibly be in that instance.

My father's face is white underneath the redness at Edward's threat. I look at Edward, who is so impassive and calm, like an avenger on a mission, and at Charlie, who looks as if he is dying to knock Edward out in a blind rage of hatred, and then realized I couldn't deal with this right now.

I couldn't deal with witnessing all of this; witnessing the very two people that I adored more than anything else in the world, despite their many faults, going at each other. And then Edward puts Charlie's whole weight back onto himself, pushing him back away from the wall and securely back onto his own two, steady feet.

They both are quick to recompose themselves, Edward rolling up his sleeves while my father slides down to the floor, trying to catch his breath.

I swallow against the thick lump in my throat as I creep out to Edward's car in a trance, wishing I could forget what had just broken out between the pair of them.

What the hell was that? I ask myself bitterly.

I lean against the car, tightening the straps of my backpack over my shoulders as Edward comes out of the house, his arms dangling at his sides, though both his hands are still balled up into tight fists. I could tell he was acting under pretence; as though nothing had just even happened between the pair of them. I knew he wasn't aware of me standing there in the hallway, lurking in on them, wide-eyed in fear as he said what he did to my father.

He gives me a strained smile as he comes to stand right beside me. "Have you gotten everything you need, love?" he asks, all innocence and indifference, combing a hand through his bronze, tousled hair as he stares down at my face.

I can't quite bring myself to look him in the eyes; nor could I seem to find enough moisture in my mouth to speak, so I just nod silently and hop into his Volvo without a word.

Shit.

I watch Edward drive, though trying to seem as though I'm not really looking, as he heads along the highway. His knuckles are pale white and clenched tightly around the steering wheel. All the while there is a satisfied, small smirk playing along the edges of his mouth.

He must see me watching him through the corner of his eye because he turns his head into my direction, and I quickly stare down at my lap. He sighs loudly. "You, uhm... you saw that, didn't you, love?" he asks me knowingly and for the first time since leaving Charlie's house after the scuffle had raged between them, I am able to look directly into his green eyes. I see the deep flash of regret in them.

"Yes." My voice comes out as low as a whisper and he suddenly looks uncomfortable at my admission.

"I didn't want you to have to see that," he tells me gently. His face is apologetic. "It was never my intention for you to ever see me like that ever again, believe me. I just couldn't seem to help myself." He raises a hand, as fast as lightening, and I flinch as he smacks himself on the forehead with a loud thud before returning his hand slowly to the steering wheel. "I know it's still inexcusable to behave in that way regardless, but when I realized how you must have gotten that bruise on your cheek I... I lost it, love."

Tears – or sweat, I wasn't sure which - begin to stream from his eyes and down his cheeks and he sighs deeply, staring straight ahead, not daring to look at me, and then just as suddenly I realize Edward is shaking with sobbing and I'm not entirely sure whether I should comfort him or not over what happened.

Everything was conflicted in that instance; I wanted to reach out and tell him that I forgive him, but then that was my father back there and the whole thing frightened me more than anything ever before.

If either one of them had gotten seriously hurt, if things had gone for the worse, I think I would have just about died...

"I know, Edward..."

I'm having trouble saying it.

"I know it's just your natural instinct to assume that you have to protect me. I know it was... a gesture out of goodness."

Edward pulls the car over on the side of the road at my uncertain words and then he slowly unbuckles his seatbelt. I pull him into my lap and then we shake tightly together, his head resting against my knees and I run my fingers through his soft hair.

"I killed her," I hear him say several times in a deep, low groan that tears through his clenched teeth. " Sometimes I like to go down to the meadow and tell her about you..."

I am both startled and shocked at his words. Who was he talking about?

I sit there in silence, trying to comfort him and yet I was trying to make sense of it all at the same time, but I wasn't really understanding what just happened and what he was talking about exactly.