A/N: For some reason, I'm very nervous about this chapter. That said, I want to thank all of you who have taken time to leave me a review for last chapter. I'm so sorry I don't have the time to respond to all of you.

OoO

BPOV

Why did he do it?

I didn't know what to say, how to answer. As much as I wanted to just take Edward in my arms and hold him, I knew that was not what he needed from me right now. What he needed was an explanation, but that would be like trying to explain to someone why the universe existed. Nobody knew why, it just did. Just like nobody could know exactly how the mind of a crazy person worked.

But to just tell him that wouldn't be enough.

My bottom lip trembled and I kept my eyes locked on our hands. Mine seemed to fit perfectly in his. I caressed his thumb with mine. "Because he was a sick, evil, fucking bastard," I finally told him, not even trying to keep the hatred out of my voice. I raised my head, and saw that Edward was looking at me with a frown on his face.

I couldn't blame him - I hardly ever cursed, at least not out loud. But we were discussing his stepfather, and the mere thought of that monster made me feel an urge to yell out all the obscenities I could think of. I also wanted to scream, cry and break things. Finally I understood how Edward felt when the turmoil inside him just became too much, and he would simply explode.

Now he just watched me for a moment, his head tilted to the side. "You're angry," he then stated, although he sounded a little uncertain.

I forced myself to calm down a little and take a deep breath, fearing that he would think my anger was directed at him. Then I nodded in confirmation. "Yes. I'm so angry I can't even think straight. I hate him for what he did to you, and if I could, I would kill him without hesitation." I really meant it, which scared me a little, seeing how I had never imagined myself capable of harming another human being.

But I realized James wasn't worthy of being put in that category. Once again, I wished I knew which hospital he was in, wanting nothing more than to just pull the plug on him myself. It didn't seem right that they were keeping him alive, he didn't deserve the effort and attention.

After what he had done to Edward, he didn't deserve to live, period. But then again, by dying, he would get away too easy. It really was a no-win situation.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then Edward turned his face away. "I'm angry too," he admitted, quietly.

"You have a right to be." I wished he would look at me, but took the opportunity to wipe away the single tear that found its way down my cheek. "But be angry at him, not yourself. He's the bad one. He hurt you. He..." The word raped got stuck in my throat.

Edward's eyes shot to mine. "Don't fucking say it!" he ordered, and I gulped. He closed his eyes for a moment. "Don't say it," he then repeated, somewhat calmer this time, and when he continued, his voice was barely more than a whisper. "I know what he did."

I ran my fingers soothingly up and down his arm, the gesture meant to bring comfort to both of us. "Then you must know it was never your fault." He shook his head in objection, and I held back a sigh. "Edward-"

"Bella..." he cut me off, an almost desperate note in his voice. "You don't understand. I need it to be my fault."

My eyes widened in shock. "Why?" I gasped.

"Because..." He stopped, and I wondered if he hesitated because he couldn't find the right words to explain, or if he simply didn't have an explanation. Either way, his words made absolutely no sense to me.

"Edward..." I swallowed. "I wish I could just tell you what you want to hear, but I need to be honest. Do you understand?" His eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded. I went on, "You asked me why he hurt you. That's the only explanation I have - he was sick and twisted. He had no right to do what he did. If it wasn't you, it would've been someone else."

He blinked in surprise. "What do you mean, 'someone else'?"

I knew I had to choose my words very carefully. "I don't think it was ever about you, or anything you did. He just needed an excuse. Maybe he knew on some level that what he did was wrong; he needed to justify his actions. So he made you think you deserved it. But you didn't." I paused. "And if he hadn't gotten married to your mom, then he would've found some other woman."

The thought was sickening, but I truly believed that James easily would have found another innocent child to abuse. I wondered if he used to hurt Edward's mother as well, but for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to ask. Instead I remained quiet, giving him a chance to let my words sink in.

I nearly wept when Edward dropped my hand, and I could only watch helplessly as he got up and started pacing the room. As much as I wanted to go to him, or ask him what he was thinking, I could tell he wanted some space. And whether I liked it or not, I would give it to him. So I just sat there in silence, although my entire body was screaming in protest.

Suddenly he stopped, his eyes darting around the room almost desperately, as if he was looking for something, and I could see his fist clenching and un-clenching a few times. I opened my mouth, then closed it again, unsure of what to do. Finally his eyes landed on the empty plate where our sandwiches had been, and he quickly grabbed it and sent it flying right into the wall.

Luckily it was the opposite direction from where I was sitting, but the loud crash still made me jump to my feet, and my heart started beating wildly in my chest. "Edward, please stop!" I begged, tears welling up in my eyes. To my great relief, he instantly snapped out of it and turned his attention to me.

He just stared at me for a moment, looking almost horrified, and I realized he was shaking. I was about to step forward, but he quickly raised his hands and backed away. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, a pained look on his face. "I won't hurt you. Please don't be afraid of me."

My heart broke for him, and I was unable to hold back a sob. "I'm not afraid of you, baby," I whispered, feeling a desperate need to assure him. "I just don't want you to get hurt." His eyes went to the broken plate on the floor, and then back to me. I took a hesitant step towards him.

Much to my relief, he didn't back away this time. His eyes followed my hand as I slowly reached out to him, closing the distance between us. I let out a content sigh as he immediately wrapped his arms around me, hugging me close and burying his face in my hair. "I'm sorry," he murmured again.

"It's okay," I told him quietly, running one hand up and down his back. "You don't have to apologize." His only response was to squeeze me harder, as if he was afraid I would disappear. That was when my conversation with Carlisle suddenly played up in my head, and I remembered him telling me how he had talked to Edward about the possibility of his outbursts scaring me away.

I had meant to talk to Edward about that, but it had completely slipped my mind.

Now I pulled back a little. Edward stubbornly looked away, but I gently cupped his cheek and forced him to face me. "Edward, listen to me." I waited until I was certain I had his full attention before I went on, "I know what Carlisle said, but he's wrong. You can yell and rant as much as you want - I'm still not going anywhere. But I won't just sit and watch while you hurt yourself."

Edward frowned. "I wasn't-" He got interrupted by the sound of someone knocking frantically on the door. A moment later, I could hear Alice's worried voice calling out from the other side. I realized she must have heard the noise when Edward broke the plate.

I glanced at Edward. He was looking towards the door, but made no attempt to respond. Almost a minute passed, and then the knocking started again, louder this time. I sighed before calling out, "Everything's okay!" figuring that Edward wasn't in a mood for being confronted by his sister at the moment.

However, it was Emmett's voice I heard this time, and I realized he wouldn't just take my word for it. "Edward?" he asked, suspiciously. I honestly couldn't blame him.

I watched how Edward briefly closed his eyes, then spoke up between gritted teeth, "Yes, I'm fine. Fuck off!" Holding my breath for a moment, I was relieved when his only response was silence, and I realized Alice and Emmett must have left.

"They're just worried, you know," I said quietly. Edward cast a brief look in my direction, but didn't say anything. I worried my bottom lip between my teeth, contemplating what to do next. Aside from breaking the plate, he had yet to show any reaction to my opinion about James, and I had no idea what he was thinking. It left me with an uneasy feeling inside.

That's why I was both relieved and apprehensive when he finally did speak up in a low voice, "If I wasn't bad, if I didn't deserve it, then why didn't she stop him?"

My mouth fell open, and I felt a lump in my throat as I realized what he meant. His mother. I swallowed hard, having no idea how to respond. "I-I don't-"

He went on as if I hadn't spoken, "You say you love me. Carlisle and Esme too. If that's true, if you all can love me, then why couldn't she?" His voice cracked, and I had to press my fist against my mouth to keep from sobbing. In that moment, my mind was completely blank.

I didn't have any answers for him. For the first time, I felt like I was in over my head. I was terrified of saying the wrong thing and make things worse. And at the same time, I knew I had to say something. Recalling Carlisle's words, I took a deep breath. "She was sick, too, Edward. Some kind of depression." I couldn't remember the actual term, but I figured it wasn't important right now.

Edward glanced at me, then looked away, but not quickly enough for me to miss the way his bottom lip was trembling. "It's not fucking fair," he mumbled, his voice husky with emotion. I could only nod my head in agreement, knowing my voice wouldn't hold if I tried to speak.

A few minutes passed in silence. Finally I spoke up, softly, "You're right - it's not fair. There's nothing fair about what happened to you, because you're a good person, and you never deserved any of that. But look at you now. You're surrounded by people who care about you and love you. Maybe it's time for you to take your life back." I held my breath, wondering if my words would get through to him.

He kept staring out into the distance. I decided to take a chance and placed my hand on his arm, nearly crying when he shook it off and stepped back. "My life?" he snorted. "That's a fucking joke, Bella. I never had one." Tears started trickling down my face, but I didn't bother wiping them away.

"You do now," I whispered. He turned to look at me with an unreadable expression on his face. I swallowed. "Edward? What are you thinking right now?"

"You don't want to know," he mumbled, looking away again.

My entire body ached to touch him, but he clearly wanted to keep some distance between us. I couldn't understand why, and I felt more hurt than I was ready to admit. "Try me," I challenged, feeling anger welling up inside me. Not at him, just the situation.

"I... I can't..." Edward let out a frustrated growl. "Need to fucking punch something," he muttered. I quickly grabbed a pillow from his bed and silently offered it to him. He gave me a skeptical look, but then his face softened. Letting out a defeated sigh, he took the pillow from me and tossed it back on the bed.

I bit my lip. "Can I please give you a hug?" When he just looked at me, I closed my eyes, preparing myself for rejection. But to my surprise - and relief - he reached out for me, and I immediately stepped into his arms. "Thank you," I whispered to whatever powers might be listening.

We just stood like that for a moment, and I rubbed his back until I felt at least some of the tension leave his body. Finally Edward pulled back a little, his eyes searching mine. "I'm so fucking tired of this, Bella," he whispered hoarsely, sounding so desperate and broken it nearly tore me apart.

"Of what, baby?" I asked softly, stroking his face. He closed his eyes, leaning into my touch. When he opened them again, a single tear rolled down his cheek, and he angrily brushed it away.

"This!" he responded heatedly, gesturing to himself. "Feeling this way. Being like this. I feel like my head's about to fucking explode. It's like..." he paused, searching for the right words, "...everything fucking hurts, and I don't know how to make it stop."

"I think..." I inhaled shakily. "You've been keeping all of this inside you for so long. Maybe you just need to let it out, once and for all. It's going to hurt, but I think you'll feel better once you can actually face what happened to you."

His eyes widened slightly, and he shook his head in refusal. "No, I can't..." His voice trailed off, and I didn't miss the fear in his eyes.

I reached for his hand, silently praying I wasn't about to make a huge mistake. "Why did your stepfather hurt you?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. When he finally spoke up, I could hear the conflict and doubt in his voice, "Because... he was sick?" It came out as a question, but the fact that he was even considering it gave me hope.

"That's right." I nodded eagerly, struggling to keep more tears from falling. I was so sick of crying. "Not because you were bad. He was a sick person, and he had no right to..." I hesitated, knowing I was taking a huge risk by pushing him in this direction. But it also seemed necessary. "Edward, tell me what he did to you."

Edward paled, understanding dawning on him. "He..." He stopped, looking at me with large, fearful eyes.

"It's okay," I encouraged, squeezing his hand. "You can say it." A part of me felt like a hypocrite for asking him to admit that his stepfather had raped him, when I couldn't even bring myself to say the word. But I got a sinking feeling that hearing himself saying it out loud was the only way he would be able to believe - and hopefully accept - that it wasn't really his fault.

He shook his head. "Bella, I..."

"You know it in here," I whispered, placing one hand gently on his chest, over his heart. As I raised my other hand, I noticed how badly it was shaking. "I think you need to say it out loud to really grasp it in here." I brushed my fingers against his temple. "Otherwise you'll never be able to move on."

Shaking his head again, he gave me a pleading look. "Please, don't..."

"As long as you keep hiding from the truth, you'll never truly heal," I told him quietly. "You just said so yourself - you don't want to feel this way anymore. You want the pain to stop. Well, it won't, not until you'll stop living in denial." I had no idea where the words were coming from, but as soon as they had left my mouth, I knew in my heart it was true. Painful or not, he needed to hear this.

"But I..." He swallowed hard, and I could see his Adam's apple bob. "I'm fucking scared," he finally choked out.

"I know, baby." Gently taking his face between my hands, I rested my forehead against his, feeling his breathing coming out in short, uneven gasps. "It's okay, I'm right here. You're not alone." His arms went around me and he clung to me almost desperately.

"Don't make me say it," he all but whimpered, and I could tell he was on the verge of tears.

I slipped my arms around his neck and pressed my cheek against his. "Shh. I'll never force you to do anything you don't want to." I felt him relax a little. "I love you," I murmured into his ear.

He pulled back, just enough so he could look at me. "Bella, I can't-"

I interrupted him by brushing my lips gently against his. "Edward, I know. You don't have to say it back. That's not why I told you. I did because I wanted to, because that's how I feel." I paused. "I love you."

His bottom lip quivered, but he didn't say anything. Instead he just watched me silently, and I could see the emotions swimming in his eyes. I meant what I said - I didn't need to hear the words to know how he felt about me. Because when he was looking at me like that, it was written all over his face.

"I love you," I repeated slowly, looking him deep in the eyes. It took a moment, and then his face crumpled. I wordlessly hugged him closer, and we sank down on the floor together.

I don't know how long we sat like that, but eventually I noticed that the room had gotten darker. I didn't care, though; I was fully content where I was and I suspected Edward felt the same way. We hadn't spoken since the last time I told him I loved him, but that was okay - words weren't necessary.

Or so I thought, until I heard Edward whisper in my ear, so quietly I was barely able to make out the words, "I love you too."