BPOV

"Fuck," Edward spat, slamming the phone back onto the base. I turned my attention from my sketch pad, finding him leaning against the bar with both hands.

"Still no word from her?" I asked.

He shifted his eyes to mine and shook his head. "Three days and nothing. Nothing new from Jasper?"

"No," I told him, understanding that he was worried about Alice. After hearing that Rose and Emmett were having a baby, Alice had disappeared. All we had was a text from Jasper saying he'd found her, but he refused to tell anyone where she was. I understood; Alice had lost her child, and here were two people practically rubbing it in her face.

"Just wish she'd call," Edward murmured, grabbing the phone and shoving it back under the bar. He then turned back to me and smiled. "Are you ready to go?"

I bit my lip and looked back at the door. "No."

"Bella," he groaned, walking over and standing across from me.

"I'm still going," I told him. "I just don't want to."

"Yes, you do," he scoffed.

"Okay, I do, but . . ." I shook my head and looked over at the vodka. God, how I longed for a drink. The only reason we'd stopped in at the bar was because Edward had had a delivery scheduled for eleven, and he was hoping to get a hold of Alice. It was hard being around so much alcohol, but I had to keep my wits about me if I wanted to get through the afternoon. Though I was scared, Edward and I were having lunch with Renee and Marcus.

"But?" Edward prompted, placing his hand under my chin and turning my attention back to him.

"Sorry," I whispered. I hated how much I wanted a drink. I never thought I had a problem before, but after I practically forced myself on Edward, I knew I used alcohol as a crutch to hide my problems.

"It's okay," he said.

"No, it's not," I groused. "How do I know that I'm not making a mistake by seeing them again?"

"You don't," he replied, shrugging his shoulders. He climbed over the bar and placed his hands on my lips, leaning down so that his lips were pressed against the top of my head. "I'm not going to force you to go."

"I know." Turning in his arms, I shifted my attention up to his and placed my hands on his hips. "But I need to. I've lived in this . . . dark place for too long. It's time that I grow up and, I don't know, start dealing with my past. And maybe, somehow, I'll have a future with them."

"Maybe," Edward whispered. "But no matter what, you have a future with me."

I smiled. "I hope so."

"Don't hope. Just believe."

"I'm trying," I admitted. "I'm really trying."

—SMTS—

Half an hour later, Edward and I were seated at a private table at Garcia's, though I'd considered leaving more than a dozen times. Edward had his arm on the back of my chair, but his other hand was on his knee, his fingers clenched around the dark denim of his jeans. I knew he was terrified about being there. I felt guilty for putting him in this position, for not considering how hard it would be for him. He didn't know Renee or Marcus any more than I did. What if they weren't the good guys?

"You can go—" But the words died out in my throat when I heard Renee squeal from across the restaurant. Looking over, I tried to stop shaking. "Oh, my God, Edward, what am I doing here?"

"Calm down," he murmured as we stood up to greet my mother and brother.

"Bella!" Renee gushed, rushing around the table and wrapping her arms around me before I could react.

"No, no, no, no," I stammered, placing my hands on her shoulders and pushing her away. I took three steps backward. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she murmured.

"I don't like sudden movement, or touching, or . . ." I blew out a deep breath before looking up at her. She looked terrified, her eyes were glistening with tears. "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry," she whispered with a sniffle. "I didn't think. Should . . . should we sit?"

I nodded and grabbed my chair, pulling it back from the table. Once Renee and Marcus, who seemed to refuse to look at me, were seated, I slide into my chair, followed by Edward, who placed his hand back where he'd had it.

"So, I've never been here before," Renee said with a smile. "What do you recommend, Bella?"

"I, um, I've never actually eaten here, either," I admitted. "This is just the only place that I could think of meeting that didn't have mice or cockroaches."

"Oh, well, thank you for that." Renee laughed as our server—a young woman with short brown hair—stopped at our table.

"Hi, I'm Jess. Can I grab you a drink while you look over the menu?" the perky girl asked.

"Oh, yes, please." Renee pressed her lips together and hummed. "I'll take an iced tea. Lots of ice, one wedge of lemon."

Jess looked at Marcus, who said, "Coke. No ice."

"Okay," she purred, before turning to Edward. "And for you, sir?"

"Water," he muttered.

And with a nod, Jess turned to me. "Miss?"

"Um," I paused, thinking about how much cash I had on me. I still had another ten days before I would get a check from Sam, and I didn't have much cash left. "I'll take water, too."

"I'll have those right out," Jess said before walking away.

She came back a few minutes later with our drinks. While Renee and Marcus both ordered plates that were filled with enchiladas, rice, beans, and a taco, Edward and I both ordered cheeseburgers. After she left, an awkward silence settled around the table.

"So, Edward," Renee said, ending the quiet. "Where are you from?"

"Chicago," he said, tensing.

"Wow, you're a long way from home. What brought you to the city?" Renee asked.

Edward shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Um . . . I . . . um, just needed something new, I guess. Something . . . something different?"

"And did you find your something different here?" Renee asked before lifting her glass to her lips and taking a sip of her tea.

"Took a few years, but I did," he told her. "I found Bella."

Renee smiled and looked from him to me. "How long have you two been seeing each other?"

"A couple months," I replied.

"And you've been in the city for how long?"

"A little over two years," I murmured. "Are you still in Forks? Or do you live here now?"

"Um, well, I'm not sure yet," she admitted. "Technically, I live in Forks. Never could seem to leave."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because I hoped that you'd come back," Renee whimpered. "I was afraid, I guess."

"Of what?"

"Of not being there when you came home." Renee wiped a tear off her cheek. "Why didn't you come home? After you were . . . freed?"

"Freed," I mumbled. "Um, because Forks wasn't my home, I guess. I'd been sent away, given to a monster. Or at least, that's what I thought. And, um, I was angry, and ashamed, and . . ." I shook my head and looked away from her. "I just wanted to disappear and Vegas seemed like a good place to do just that."

"How could you believe that we'd send you away?" Renee pleaded, reaching across the table for my hand, but I pulled it back. "Did you really think we'd stopped loving you? That we didn't want you anymore?"

I nodded. "I was in the way."

"You could never be in the way," Renee gasped.

"But I was," I argued. "I was messy, and too focused on my focused on my art. I needed direction, and he . . ." I brought my hand up to my chest. "He said I was too expensive, that you couldn't continue paying for my training. But that he could . . . give me what I needed, help me focus," I cried.

"Oh, sweetheart," Renee breathed.

"Don't call me that!" I almost screamed, slamming my hand on the table. Renee and Marcus flinched backward.

"Calm down," Edward whispered and placed his hand on top of mine.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled, but I don't like that name. He used to call me that . . ." I opened my eyes. "Just, please, don't call me that."

"Okay," Renee quickly responded. "I, um, I don't know how to convince you that you were never in the way for us, Bella. You're my daughter, my little girl."

"Was," I muttered. "I was your daughter; I was your little girl. I'm not her, anymore."

"Maybe not," she admitted. "But you're still mine. And I would never have let you go away, never have let that man take you away from us."

Tears blinded me as I tried desperately to keep them from falling. "But you never found me. I was locked away inside hell, and you weren't there to save me. And I know that's not fair, because you didn't know where he'd taken me, but I was angry. So angry. I still am. And scared. All the time."

"You don't think we're scared?" Marcus asked, drawing everyone's attention to him. "I was four years old, and suddenly you were gone. I wanted my sister, Bella; my hero, but you weren't there. You were angry. Okay, I get that, because I was angry, too. And scared and lost." Marcus dragged his hand over his face, brushing away his tears. "I grew up at four years old. I couldn't cry because it made Mom cry. And Dad stopped living. All he worked on was finding you. I was nothing to him."

"That's not true," Renee groused.

"Yes, it is, Mom," Marcus snarled. "He couldn't come to my baseball games because he got a lead on Isabella. No fishing trips, or cub scouts for me because Isabella was spotted in New York, Florida, Italy, London." Pausing, Marcus lifted his coke and took a drink. "And when I needed him the most, he left. Thirteen years old, and I'd lost my sister and my father. So, yeah, I'm angry, too, Bella."

"Gee, and you hid it so well," I quipped.

"Sorry if I'm not in the mood to coddle you," he rebutted.

"I'm not asking to be coddled," I argued. "But if you expect me to feel sorry for you because the old man wasn't the father you wanted, then you can fuck off. You know what I got when I was thirteen?" When neither he nor Renee responded, I leaned forward and pulled the sleeve of my T-shirt up, showing them the scar in my forearm. "My work wasn't bringing in enough money, so he took a knife and held me down while he cut me. Oh, or how about the broken leg when I was ten, or the cracked ribs when I was eleven. You don't even want to know what I did to deserve those. Still want to compare who's had a shittier life? I can assure you I will win."

"I never meant to suggest that I had it worse than you," he mumbled, looking ashamed.

"Yeah? Could have fooled me," I grumbled, pulling my sleeve down and leaning back in my chair.

"I didn't mean it like that," he said again. "But this isn't easy for us, either."

"Never said it was."

"I wasn't a good mom," Renee said, drawing our attention to her. "I worked too much. Wasn't there when I should have been. I've regretted being late every day, Bella. Every single day. But I never gave up hope that one day, you'd come back to me." She leaned forward and extended her hand toward me. Slowly, I placed mine in hers. "And you did. Years too late, and with a darkness in your eyes that even I can't deny, but you're here."

"I want to be here. I do, but I don't know how to not be afraid that you're going to hurt me. Trust isn't something I give freely," I told her.

Renee nodded and looked at Edward. "You trust him."

Though it wasn't a question, I found myself nodding. "He loves me in spite of my faults."

"And you think we don't? Or that we can't love the Bella sitting across from us?" Renee asked.

"I don't know," I confessed.

"Then, I guess we'll have to prove ourselves, won't we?" Renee smiled and released my hand, leaning back in her seat.

Jess carried our food over to us on a large, brown tray. Once she had placed our plates in front of us, she refilled our drinks and left us alone. While we ate in near silence, I thought about what Renee had said. Could we start over? Forget about the last fifteen years and begin again? I wasn't convinced.

Once everyone had eaten their meals, Jess cleared our table and left us the check. Before I could dig my cash out of my pocket, Renee whipped out her credit card and handed it Jess. They lived in a world where you just pull out a credit card to pay for your food, where I lived in a world of having to make a package of ramen noodles last three days. But then again, they'd lost me, lived in a world where bad guys won. Phil Dwyer had victimized them, too. Maybe not in the ways he did me, but he'd robbed them of someone they apparently loved. Perhaps I was too busy finding a reason for them not to love me, to see the reasons why they did.

"I need to add a slice of cheesecake to go, please," she told Jess.

"Yes, ma'am," the woman replied before walking off.

Renee smiled and turned to me. "Charlie loves cheesecake. Thought he might like a piece."

"How is he?" I asked.

"Getting stronger every day," she said. "He misses you, though. Asks about you."

"Sure he does," I muttered.

"He does," Marcus added. "Every day. You should go see him."

"Probably just misses someone to complain about how cold his coffee is," I quipped.

Renee frowned. "I'm not saying that he was right, Bella, for not telling you who he was, for not telling us where you were, but Charlie thought he was protecting you."

"But what if I didn't need protecting anymore?" I whimpered. "What if I just needed my father to take me into his arms and say, it's okay, I've got you now?"

"Maybe he tried," she suggested. "Maybe you just didn't see it."

Though I chose not to argue with her, I didn't have her same faith in the old man.

Thank you for all the reviews.