A/N I don't own Twilight.

Hello all. Your response to this story never stops to amaze me. Thanks so much! Thanks as well to Sherry, my beta, to Bob for hand-holding, to Aleeab4u for her invaluable feedback, and to my affair Deb. We need some alone-time again soon, my love.

I still endeavor to update roughly every 10 days. I have a life, and I cope with severe pain on a daily basis. If I am a day late in your perception, so be it. It doesn't automatically mean this story is abandoned or that I forgot about it. Just wanted to say that. Have some faith in me!

I had a plan for this chapter. And then Edward looked at the script and said something like: "Nope, not going to do it like that." This the result. I hope you like...


Renée is coming next week. She will miss Esme's birthday, which is this upcoming weekend, but she couldn't make it earlier. She promises to bring presents, she says when she's on speaker phone with Carlisle, Esme and me. We're in the kitchen when the details are discussed, and all the while I am grinning like an idiot.

Alice has offered to sleep in Jasper's room for the time Renée is here. Now the guest room is taken, she would have to rent a hotel room.

Nobody tells me to sleep on the couch. Nobody asks me if I would be willing to share my room with my old therapist. I think they know the answer to that already. If they think it's childish I can't sleep with someone else in the room, they don't say anything.

And so, Renée will be arriving Thursday after next. It can't come quickly enough.

I linger close to Esme on Sunday afternoon. She asks me to help her in the kitchen, and we go all out on some sort of soup she has been wanting to make for a while now. We use letter vermicelli, and it causes some hilarity at dinner, when the others keep trying to spell words with it until Esme chastises them good-naturedly to start eating before it goes cold.

I can spell the word 'mom' with mine.

After dinner, things are quiet in the house.

"I'm bored," Edward states after a while. The TV can't hold his interest, and he's out of books to read. Maybe he will go back to the library soon. Maybe I can join him, if he will let me. I mean, I did refuse to come the last time he asked. Maybe I ruined my chances to go with him.

"Play something," Esme says quietly. "I haven't heard you play in a while."

"Oh, I'll join you," Rosalie says suddenly. "Let's play Heart and Soul."

Edward's face lights up and he gets up immediately to go to the baby grand. Rosalie follows him and sits down next to him on the piano stool. One moment later, Edward starts a rhythm and Rosalie plays the melody. I recognize the song easily. I didn't know Rosalie could play though.

"She only knows a song or two," Emmett says when he sees my surprise. "She doesn't really care for it."

Oh, what I'd give to be able to play 'a song or two.' How cool would that be?

However, I remember vividly what was said on the first day I got here. The piano is Edward's, and I am not allowed to touch it. So I don't. Instead, I will listen to the songs Edward and Rosalie are playing now. When she's done, which is quickly, Edward plays some other songs as well.

Drawn closer by the music, I drift over to the parlor where the piano is and lean against the wall to listen. Edward's hands find the right keys confidently. Instead of tapping them, it's almost as if he is stroking them at times. Lovingly handling this instrument as if he were coaxing the music out of it, instead of telling it what to do.

I know my thoughts are silly. But it's just such a sight to see someone play piano like that. He has the sheet music in front of him, but he doesn't need to look at it. He also doesn't really need to look at the keys to find the right notes. What would it be like to have a confidence like that? To be so good in something that you don't even have to think? Would it make you feel more secure, perhaps? Pleased with who you are?

I wouldn't know.

I let my thoughts drift away on the music, focusing on the notes that float around the room. When the song ends, I let out a happy, contented sigh. Edward turns to see who is behind him, and smiles.

"Hey."

Hey, I think.

"Like the music?"

Always.

I'm momentarily lost when he reaches out his hand. "Come here." His expression is sweet. Disarming. A boyish smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

It's as if I am drawn in by him, and there's nothing I can do but to step up closer at his invitation. He pats the piano bench, indicating I should sit down next to him. Now I hesitate. I wouldn't come so close to a man out of my own volition. Every cell in my body warns me to keep my distance, stay out of reach. But my gut feeling, for once, tells me something else entirely.

I want to be close to him. A frown ghosts over my face as that realization sinks in.

"Take your time," he says quietly, pulling me from my thoughts. He turns back to the piano and starts playing a new song. I've never heard this one before. It's warm, somehow. Sweet. Embracing, but also a bit sad somehow. I like it immediately. The sheet music helps me with the title, Love Me by Yiruma.

As the music progresses, I can envision it enveloping me like a warm blanket, or a hug. Subtly, Edward shifts a little further to the edge of the piano stool, making more space for me to sit down.

In a sudden rush of boldness and… want... I sit down next to him. Being careful that our bodies don't touch – I don't want him to be bothered by me – my heart is still crashing out of my chest. I've never been so close to a man before. Not out of my own volition at least.

I can feel his body heat from where I am sitting. I watch his hands on the keys, but I know he's looking at me from the corner of his eye. I hope he doesn't mind me being so close. Then again, he told me to come sit here, right? Right?

He could push me away if he wanted me gone.

When I look up at him tentatively, there's a faint smile tugging at his lips. He meets my eyes and, feeling busted, I look away quickly. He nudges me gently, never faltering in his playing, and when I look up again, his smile is reassuring.

Relaxing infinitesimally, I let the music wash over me once more. Without really realizing it, I close my eyes and just listen.

When the song comes to an end, Edward starts a new one almost seamlessly. I have heard this one before. It's the song that starts hesitantly, as if the player wants to start again, and then the music picks up. It's lighter than the previous song he played, with a hopeful undercurrent.

I'm so lost in the music I only realize that I have started to lean my head against his shoulder the moment I touch him. Startled, I stiffen, momentarily torn between the urge to run and the urge to freeze.

"It's okay," he says softly. When I look up to meet his eyes, his gaze is clear and kind. "It's okay," he repeats.

However uneasy and nervous I am, at the same time I'm positively sure I don't want to move away from here. I don't understand why, yet I just want to be here and stop my thoughts for a moment.

Edward plays on, unhurried. I can feel the movements of his arm against mine, the subtle movements against my temple where it leans on his shoulder. He doesn't seem tense at all, and due to that, I am able to relax a bit as well, slowly but surely.

The song morphs seamlessly into another one I have never heard before. It must be Yiruma as well, since the style is the same. It's a lighter song, with higher notes.

"This one is called Kiss the Rain," Edward says, his voice only just rising above the notes.

I relax further as the song progresses, and when it is done and the last notes fade into silence, I sigh the last bit of tension in my body away. Edward sighs as well, an easy exhale, and rests his hands in his lap. The room is suddenly quiet, but it is not an oppressive silence.

Somewhere behind me, the muted sounds of the TV drift around the house. It's not disruptive. It's all part of the atmosphere.

I've not been this relaxed in a very long time.

And then I feel Edward's cheek rest against the crown of my head.

We sit together for a long moment, and I try to make sense of the tumult that is going on in my brain. Why is he leaning his head against me? And how do I feel about that? Does he want anything else, or is this enough? And what do I want?

I'm not threatened, but deep down I am scared. Worrying, mainly, that he will want more than I can give him. That he will take what he wants anyway, and hurt me. But why would he lean against me like he does now? Why would he allow me to sit with him like that? Is this what friends do? I didn't think so, but what do I know?

My hands start to fidget as all my questions remain unanswered. Edward pulls back, and my body feels cold where it has been leaning against his. He swallows and composes himself. Then he looks at me and smiles, but it's forced.

I understand right away. Saving him the struggle of having to tell me this was a mistake, I get up from the piano bench and stumble up the stairs towards my room. I curl up in the rocking chair with Renée's quilt that no longer smells like Edward.

No matter how I try to analyze it, I liked being close to him like that. Even though panic claws at my backbone, even though fear puts my teeth on edge when I think of it. Even though I have no idea what I'm thinking, wanting to be close to a man to begin with.

It's simply not possible. I can't even begin to list the reasons why not. It's just not possible. I won't ever be able or fit to have a normal relationship like others do. I know this. Edward knows this. His gaze told me all. This has never bothered me.

Then why does it bother me now, all of a sudden?

~O~

Monday in school, I am sadly distracted. Once I got to my room yesterday night, my thoughts had become knotted until I could see no sense anymore. When Edward had gone to his room, I had felt compelled to go back downstairs again. I spent the rest of Sunday evening close to Esme, finally giving in when she told me for the third time I could come sit by her again. Without my emotional levels at an all time high, it was hard to let down my guard enough to accept her embrace. But once I had finally lost the tension in my body, it simply felt so good to be close to her.

I've slept like shit again, though. It seems as if the reintroduction of touch is bringing back the memories more strongly, and more often. I am no longer safe in my dreams and I am caught in the irony of not wanting to go to sleep once more. This time however not because I am afraid the waking will disturb me, but because of the dreams.

At the end of Biology, Mr. Banner asks if we have all completed the first part of the assignment. I am horror struck as I realize that I didn't even think about that during the weekend. And now I haven't finished our homework in time.

"Relax," Edward says softly when he sees my stress. "I took care of it. You obviously had other things on your mind."

Oh, he did? Gratitude fills me as I meet his gaze, but I am immediately reminded of yesterday night. The pained look in his eyes had said enough back then. It's nice of him to help me, but he must know I don't expect this of him. Of course he merely wanted to save his own ass.

The realization is sobering and the smile disappears from my face as I look forward again, to where Mr. Banner is writing the new homework assignment on the board.

"Bella?" Edward asks.

I pay more attention than needed on writing down my homework, planning to make sure to do the majority of this week's assignment. From the corner of my eye, I can see Edward leaning forward to catch my attention.

"Oh no you don't," he says. "I'm not going to let you retreat like that again."

Just at that moment the bell rings, and around us the students start to pack their bags and get up. When I make a move to do the same, Edward places a hand on my arm to stop me. The look in his eyes takes me off guard.

"How passionate are you about going to Gym?"

Um...

"Can you go tell the coach you want to go to the Port Angeles library and that you won't be back to check in at the end of class?"

His eyes are hopeful, and something else. Mischievous? Not dark or angry in any way. My newfound desire to be with him wars with my assumed knowledge that he doesn't want me that close. When he presses again, I nod once, and he walks with me to Gym so I can give the note to coach Clapp.

The coach agrees, but 'only for this once.' I nod solemnly and turn to walk away as he goes into the gymnasium.

Edward falls into step with me when I round the corner, and together we walk out of the school building, towards his car in the parking lot. He opens the passenger door for me and gets in on the other side. I get out my phone immediately to type.

Will you not get in trouble for skipping class?

"No, so don't worry about that," he reassures me. "Where do you want to go?"

I stare blankly at him. What does he mean? I thought he proposed to go to the library? Or was he joking?

Edward looks through the windshield to the sky. It's blue, and the sun is out today, for the first time in ages. You can actually feel the first hint of spring in the air.

"What do you say about that meadow you found? I know a place we can drive to, and it's not a far walk through the woods from there."

I don't know what he sees in my gaze, but he smiles winningly and starts his car. I'm still not sure if this is a good idea when he turns off the main road and drives down the dirt trail until even that stops. Leaning over me suddenly, he opens the glove compartment and pulls out a bag of candy.

"Want to go to the meadow?" he asks again. He searches my eyes. "I am willing to bet you are dying to go out for some fresh air. Come on, let's go."

He's right about the fresh air. Still, I'm apprehensive about going to that meadow with him. We will be as isolated as we can be. There isn't even cell reception there, and I know he knows it.

His gaze changes. "You know you can trust me, right?"

My lower lip disappears between my teeth as I contemplate his words. I think he won't do anything, but I have learned a long time ago that you can never be sure about such a thing. It's the obvious pain in his eyes that makes me decide to get out of the car at last. His disappointment at my hesitation was palpable. Now I can only hope that it's not a trick.

Then again, I try to reason, had he wanted to try anything, he could have done so a long time ago.

"Stop over thinking it," Edward says as he closes the trunk and locks his car. "Come on. It will do you good to be out. I know I need it."

He guides the way through the woods. There is a path, but if you wouldn't know it was there it would be hard to notice it. I allow him to help me climb over a fallen tree log, and he holds some branches out of the way so they don't hit me in my face. It's all very considerate, and underneath it all I realize that I would do the same for him.

Even though Edward says it's not too far a walk to the meadow, I find it quite the journey. This may partly be because I don't know how far it's going to be, but also because I am simply horribly out of shape. I need to move around more, be more active, because right now I am panting like an idiot.

Just as I am considering to let Edward know I need to rest for a bit, he pushes a final branch out of the way and we're back in the clearing I spent so many hours not so long ago. The first signs of spring are already showing in the undergrowth, and even though the grass will probably be too wet to sit on, it's already a lovely place to be.

Edward breathes in deeply and smiles happily. "Oh man I've missed this place. I used to come here to read often."

I wonder why he stopped doing that. His face is alight with the memory.

He looks around for a suitable spot, and then spreads out the blanket on the ground. "I only have one blanket," he says apologetically. "That means you're going to have to sit awfully close to me." His boyish banter is endearing.

He plops down on the blanket and leans back on his hands. "I can't wait for the summer. You must have missed it, too. Phoenix is always hot, isn't it?" He looks over his shoulder at me to see my reaction, and I nod. Phoenix was always hot. And although I like the heat, I have found that the cold of Forks has a benefit I never foresaw.

It's very easy to hide my skin here.

Edward pats the blanket next to him, and when he tells me literally I can sit down if I want to, I go over to him and sink down on my knees, my hands tense on my thighs. He looks at my hands for a moment, before he sits forward, crossing his legs Indian style. Plucking at the grass in front of him, he is quiet for a moment before he speaks.

"I don't even know how to start a conversation right now," he finally says. "Sometimes I think you're really doing better, and then the next time you're as tense as a string again. Is it really so hard to believe that I am not dangerous?" He meets my eyes at his last words, and my shoulders sag when I see the sadness in his gaze.

I pluck my phone out of my pocket to write.

It's not you

"I know," he says after he has read it. "But still." He shakes his head, as if to clear his thoughts. "I shouldn't bother you with this, though. It's not as if you can help it."

I suck my lower lip into my mouth as I type again.

But you can help me

Our eyes meet for a long moment, and we're both trying to read the other.

"You want me to help you?"

I nod, suddenly shy.

He turns to face me. "Tell me how."

His eagerness catches me off guard.

I don't know. I wish I knew

"You asking me to help you. That's a good first step, right? I mean, I'm no therapist, but I think it's a good thing you're willing to try."

I remember what I thought once, that he would make an excellent therapist. I write down as much, and he smiles.

"Therapy is nothing for me. I don't think it would make me happy to try and fix people all day long. At least, psychologically. If I'm really becoming a pediatrician, I will be fixing regardless, but in a different way." The corner of his mouth turns up in that crooked grin I've seen him done before, and I wonder what specific situations cause him to smile like that.

I latch on to the first part of his answer.

Aren't you trying to fix me, then?

He looks shocked, almost insulted, and somehow it's a huge relief for me.

"No," comes his reply. "I am not trying to fix you. If I ever gave you that impression, I am sorry."

You never did.

"That's good."

I type again.

I can't be fixed

Instead of denying it, he meets my gaze. "I don't think there is anything to fix. You just have to be brought out of your shell. It's all in there, somewhere." His conviction is genuine and I look away, shy once again.

"So," he says, suddenly business-like. "Why were you pulling back during Biology? Don't think I didn't notice."

Oh, that. I chew on my lip again and sit back a little, creating the illusion of some distance.

"You can tell me," he coaxes. "If you want me to help you, that is," he adds in a lighter tone, but he's still serious.

I try to write.

Yesterday at the piano

"Yes?" he says encouragingly.

My next words take longer to type. I can feel the soft wind on my face when I press the buttons on the phone.

I saw your look. I'm sorry that I went too far. I didn't want to bother you.

A frown ghosts over his face as he reads. "What do you mean?"

You don't have to tell me. I understand.

"Understand what? I'm sorry, I really don't know what you mean right now."

Pressing my lips together, I force my hands to move.

Weren't you going to tell me that you didn't want that to happen again?

"No?" He frowns. "I actually liked it, but I thought you didn't."

But I saw your look.

"What look?"

I don't know. Disappointed?

He chuckles humorlessly. "I was just thinking about how much effort it must have cost you to sit with me like that. I was worried I had pushed you too far."

I don't think he's lying, but he's hiding something. What he says is not the complete truth. I study his face, trying to find a clue for more information.

But that's what friends do, right?

"Yeah. Right," he says, looking down at his fidgeting hands.

He is definitely hiding something.

Talk to me

The recognition in his eyes when he sees his own words used against him is clear. He smiles crookedly, but it morphs into a sad expression. "You'll go running and screaming."

I cock my head. I've been afraid that he would be the one to go. Yet, here we are, at his request. What could he possibly tell me that makes me want to run?

Quite some things, my evil mind whispers. I squash that voice and type.

Try me

He takes a deep breath and looks to his right as he thinks. Then he looks down at his hands again. I can tell that he's trying to start speaking several times, before he actually says something.

"You're going to hate me." His voice is quiet.

Briefly I consider telling him I could only hate him if he would ever willingly hurt me, but I don't want to interrupt this moment. Somewhere between the car and this meadow, the notion of him hurting me has become quite ridiculous.

I wait patiently for him to continue. My legs, still folded underneath me, are starting to burn. I don't want to move though. I want to know what he is going to say.

"Bella, I like you. A lot. Maybe more than I should."

Okay, this alarms me. I sit back a little further, as if the distance will help me. I swallow thickly when he looks up and meets my eyes. His face is pained, and he's clearly unhappy.

A thousand emotions and questions crash into me at once. Of course he's disappointed. He must be wondering what's wrong with him to like someone like me. What does he want to do with it? What does he expect from me? Is he going to take what he wants?

"See, I thought you would want to run," he says sadly. "I just… You have to know that I don't expect anything from you. I just can't help myself. But I'm not going to do anything. Nothing has to change." His words are rushed towards the end, but I'm halfway to standing up.

When he reaches out, I get up completely and step away from him. My heart is beating wildly and I am shaking. How did this happen? Why does he see me as something special? Doesn't he know how… tainted I am? If he knew he wouldn't want me. Should I tell him? Or would that make him think that he could do what he wants, like Stefan did when he found out what Laurent did?

I grip my hair. I don't see a way out of this. Why did this have to happen? He must hate me so badly now. Just when I think that he was merely nice, it seems that from the beginning, there has been an ulterior motive. What does he want? Am I still safe around him?

Oh, God. Will he try to come to my room at night? Tell me it's out of love?

I feel sick.

"Bella? Bella, please," Edward says to my right. He's approaching me, and I hold out my hand to beg him to keep his distance. I'm pacing restlessly, hoping that my stomach will calm down and I won't have to make an ass out of myself.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have told you."

My head whips around to look at him.

Not told me? What would have happened then? No, I think it's good that I know.

In a rush, memories dawn. The way he looked at me only this weekend, when I was wearing the new sweater that showed my form. All the times he smiled at me.

When he told me it was okay to sit with him yesterday, did he get off on that?

Oh shit.

Bile rises and I sprint to the edge of the meadow, holding on to a tree as I bend over and try not to soil my clothes and shoes. Everything is tense, and as I keep retching I curse how vulnerable it makes me. How often am I going to throw up in his presence? Shame burns on my cheeks and I can't get myself to look up and meet his gaze.

It's all going to hell.

Just like I expected.

"Here," he says quietly, handing me a packet of tissues and a small bottle of water.

I rinse my mouth and clean my hands, then lean against the tree in defeat. I can't even open my eyes, the embarrassment is just too much. Tears escape from between my closed lids, adding to the misery of this situation.

Edward stands by at a safe distance, lost. "I'm so sorry," he says again. "I thought you'd be upset, just not this badly. But it doesn't mean anything, Bella. Nothing has to change. I still want for us to be friends. I meant what I said once. I really don't want anything from you or expect anything."

With shaking hands, I type on my phone.

We can't be friends if you want more

He reaches out for the phone, but in my sudden fright to touch him, I drop the device and it falls to the ground. I walk away from him as he reads, afraid he will come after me.

"I don't want more," he says. "Shit, I really just shouldn't have said anything. Me and my honesty." He tugs at his hair in frustration, messing up his already wild do.

I wrap my arms around myself, seeking comfort I know I won't be able to find. What a rollercoaster these past few days have been. From realizing my past was probably not my fault, to learning Carlisle and Esme still accept me after all that happened, to Edward telling me he likes me. More than he should.

It stings.

Because deep down, I know I like him too. But what do I do about it? I can't ever be in a normal relationship. Fear implodes in my guts when I even think of such a possibility. No way, no go. I don't even want to think about it.

I sigh desperately.

"I wanted to say that I hoped this wouldn't ruin anything," he says quietly. I can hear him walking around me to approach me. "But I guess I ruined it anyway."

He stops a few feet away. A gust of wind blows through the clearing and I shiver, suddenly cold.

"Bella, please look at me?"

I meet his eyes, and the pain I see there distracts me.

"I'm so sorry," he repeats. "I just want to spend some time with you. I thought that was the same for you, too."

His words disarm me completely, because he is right. I wanted to spend time with him, and all this time I have been worrying that I was a burden to him. But he's not right when he says nothing has to change. I don't think things will ever be the same again. I will always wonder what he will do when he's close.

He swallows before he speaks. "Not all men are evil, you know? I know you're not ready for anything and I know that you don't see me the same way. That's okay. I won't force you into anything. But I would hate it if I were to lose our friendship."

I hug myself tighter, needing time to think but knowing I won't find any clarity soon. I wonder if Siobhan could help me with this, or Renée. But they're not here right now, and Edward is.

Edward steps closer. I step back instinctively.

"Please don't be afraid of me," he says, his voice broken. "I really don't want you to be scared. You know there is no need." The pain in his voice slides through my soul. It's real. I can tell it is real, because I have felt like he does.

I have been in need of affection for so long, I know exactly how it feels. I know it is what Edward feels now.

And so it appears that I now have the absurd need to comfort him.

Slowly, carefully, my arms unwrap themselves from around my torso. Edward makes no move to come closer, giving me time I think to relax again. I can only appreciate it and I can see how the tension leaves his body when I calm down again as well.

After a while I let out a deep sigh, trying to rid myself of the coil of fear that is still sitting tightly in my chest. I try to make a mental inventory of the situation, but come up short. It's too much to process. My buffer is overflowing.

When I meet Edward's gaze finally, he tries to smile. "I'm so sorry. I really shouldn't have burdened you with this."

I shake my head. I think I'm glad to know. I mean, don't I have a right to know? I would have felt bad if he had kept to to himself for a very long time. Which makes me wonder how long he has known that he likes me. More than he should.

Ugh, this is all way too confusing.

Also because of course, I still can't deny how I feel when I am close to him. What am I supposed to do with that? I never thought it would be possible to ever even feel something for someone. But it doesn't matter, does it? Regardless of what I feel, it won't ever be possible. Ever.

Even though Rosalie said something about it being awesome when you share it with the right person. But how do you know who is that someone?

I'm so conflicted. And scared. The tension that had started to fade, rebuilds. Memories I want to forget force themselves on me. No way out. And here I am, alone with him. He can take what he wants. Is this all a trick? I have to get out of here. I turn to leave, blindly. I'm not even sure which is the way to the car but I don't care.

A hand on my arm. Edward, wanting me to stop. It's not a restraining grip, but I can no longer tell the difference. Stuck in my past, I flinch away from him, violently. Don't touch me. Don't hurt me, please. I've been hurt so often before. If it happens again, I'm afraid I will break.

"I'm sorry," Edward says again, his voice rough with sadness. He steps back, and I remain at the edge of the meadow, my arms once more around me.

I need something to hold on to, an anchor, just one thing that is the same after everything that has changed over the past few days. It's too much.

"I would never hurt you," he says. "Ever. You know this. I know you do."

The silence rings. I can hear the wind, the soft sounds of the forest around us. Somewhere in the distance, a lone birds sings. It grounds me for some reason, providing a lifeline with sanity I so desperately need.

I close my eyes for a moment, looking at the grass in front of my feet. Trying desperately to compose myself. I don't want to run anymore. I don't know why, but I don't want to run. Deep down I know it won't solve anything if I run.

But I don't know what to do right now, either.

"Bella?"

I pull back further in myself. I can't look at him right now. I don't want to see the pain in his face, the pain know all too well. I can't give him what he wants, it can only lead to disappointment. But that's not the real reason I can't meet his eyes. I'm afraid that if I do, I will really start to realize what I feel for him. Right now, I can still push it away. I don't want to see his tortured gaze. He will draw me in until I can't get out anymore. Until I don't want to get out. And that is when it becomes dangerous.

"Won't you even look at me?"

I shake my head. I can't. I can't see the hurt, for it is much too similar to my own. Tears come up once again and spill down my cheeks. I don't even bother to wipe them away. Things can't get much worse, anyway. And for some strange reason, I want him to see my tears. I don't know why.

I don't know anything anymore.

"I'll take you back to the car," he whispers after a long silence. "I can take you home, if you want to."

He walks up to me to start guiding the way, but I step around him. I don't want to leave just yet. I need to figure this all out before I go back to the reality that is the rest of my life.

Taking a cleansing breath, I walk to the middle of the meadow. The sky is still blue. The days have been getting longer steadily, and I revel in the extra light. I didn't realize how much I had missed it until I started to get it back.

When the lonely bird in the distance stops its song, I turn around to face Edward. His gaze is open, vulnerable, and for a moment I get the uncanny feeling that I am looking straight into his soul. And somehow, deep down, I suddenly know.

He won't hurt me. He never will.

I gasp under the weight of my realization.

Edward doesn't move. He looks back at me, not trying to hide anything. His hands are hanging relaxed by his sides, there is no sign of any aggression. And I would know. I've seen it too often before.

But never in Edward. He is waiting for me, to make the first move, perhaps. To let him know in some way that I won't go running. But he needs to know I need time. And distance, probably. I don't want to lose him, but I realize that in time, I probably will. To another girl. One who can give him back what he wants. What he needs.

What he deserves.

I sigh, and wander back to the blanket where I sit down, my back to him. He doesn't move. The wind is in my direction and I would be able to hear it if he moved.

He is waiting.

I make my decision. Looking over my shoulder, I meet his gaze once again. I don't know what will happen now.

I only know that I want to let him in.


The songs Edward was playing are all from Yiruma: Love Me, The River Flows in You and Kiss the Rain.

I'm very curious what you thought of this chapter!