Posted 2019-1-14: Snowmageddon is about to descend on us here in Vancouver, BC, Canada. Hoping you all have a cozy and warm place in which to curl up and read this.

Many, many thanks to chayasara for beta-ing, and my apologies for fiddling with her work after the fact. All errors are my own.

~ Erin

Bella woke up in a bed, the watery sun low in the sky. She didn't remember getting herself into the bed, and she was dressed as she had been the night before. She blinked up at the white ceiling, the pattern vaguely familiar—the memory of the night's events flooding back. She was at the Cullens' house.

"You fell asleep in the car," Edward said. He was sitting in a chair, leaning over the bassinet. "Sorry," he added, "should I have woken you?"

Bella pushed herself upwards, scooting back so far that she thumped her lower back painfully into the headboard. Her equilibrium was off-kilter from sleep, and her now galloping heart wasn't making things much better. She swung her legs slowly over the side of the bed to the floor.

"No, it's fine," she said.

Edward didn't move, but watched her carefully, wanting to go to her to make sure she didn't fall. He stole occasional glances at Sarah, who was beside him in the bassinet.

Bella crossed the room without incident, running her hand over Sarah's small forehead. Wrapping her arms around her chest, Bella glanced at her watch, seeing it was almost nine. It was clear that Sarah hadn't nursed since last night.

"Has she woken at all?"

"No, but she will soon though."

Bella frowned a little. She was so accustomed to being the person who knew Sarah best. It made her feel pettily jealous that Edward knew things she never could. Petty, she told herself, and made her face relax. He's only ever helped her. And it's not like you'll have many opportunities to ask. "Thank you for telling me. What does she dream of?" The last words slipped out quickly. She wasn't sure she'd like the answer, but she wanted to know.

"You," he said softly, smiling down at Sarah. "Sometimes just sensations, being warm, being fed, but mostly, just you—your face, your smell, your nursing her."

Edward watched Bella's hand tremble on the bassinet. The skin was still tight over the bones with tension, and, he frowned, with weight-loss.

"Where do you want to nurse her?" he asked, standing so she had use of the chair if she wanted it.

"In bed," she said quietly. She was still tired, and completely uncertain of being near Edward. She doubted he would come near her there.

"Here," he said, scooping Sarah up, "do you need anything?"

Bella's anger was instantaneous. She was perfectly capable of picking up her own child and of taking care of all her needs. Of course, present circumstances reminded her that she was beholden to him for being found wanting in this regard.

She took a deep breath.

His question echoed in her head and then her heart. Did she need anything? Did she ever. Another life? Bella thought. The father of my child alive and well? Not to have had you break my heart? She tried to shut off the next, logical question, but it was too quick, and it stabbed deep inside. Supposedly, you still love me?

Before she could even think, she blurted out, "Is it true what Alice said? That you still love me?"

They were standing facing one another, Sarah halfway to her in his arms, poised like an offering.

Bella's hands, already raised in preparation, began to tremble to the point that she could see, rather than only feel it. Idiot! She hissed to herself. The small moment between them stretched, the time elastic, despite his nearly instant response.

"Yes," he said, "it is. I never stopped loving you."

Sarah's sudden, loud, and piercing wail made Bella startle, fumbling to take her from his hands. Edward held onto the baby, keeping her steady until Bella's grip was sure.

He didn't want to let go.

He wanted to ask her the same question, but Bella had tripped with the baby in her arms, and he steadied her before she could feel it, his fingers unnoticed under her elbow as she reached the bed, quickly settling Sarah to her breast.

He sat by the footboard, considering his own words carefully. "And you, Bella? When you were ill, was that the real you I saw?"

She felt a pang of panic at her throat. It stoppered her speech, so she nodded instead.

"I'm so sorry for what I did to you, for leaving you." He paused. "Please understand that I gave the others no choice. I insisted we go and that there be no goodbyes. I carry all the blame for our leaving."

She was crying, trying very hard not to let it become more than simple tears. His hand, reaching for her face, made her pull away, a hand up to warn him away.

"No," she choked out. "Don't."

He retracted his hand, resting it carefully on the bed. "I'm sorry. I think I misunderstood."

"No," she said, "you didn't." She couldn't name what she felt for him. That was simply too dangerous. "I just—I can't—you left. And you're here again. For how long? Who knows?" She shrugged, trying to pretend it didn't matter.

"I won't leave again, Bella," he said.

"So you say." She met his gaze.

"I've given you no reason to trust me."

The very angry part of herself wanted to agree with him, but more of her knew that simply wasn't true, at least not entirely. "I can't go through that again," she said instead, and looked at Sarah.

He'd seen enough in the minds of others to know that she couldn't.

"No, and I won't do that to you. Ever. I won't leave, Bella. Even if you asked me to. I couldn't."

He said it with guilt. He owed her a life, one with joy—not this half-life he'd seen her limping through.

"Time'll tell," she said, the tears still flowing.

"Will you let me prove myself?" he asked, eyes still intent on her.

She didn't know what to say to this. There was a dimple between her eyebrows as she considered the implications. "What does that even mean?" she asked.

"I love you. Let me prove myself worthy of your love."

He'd leaned closer as he spoke, and the proximity was reminding her of all the very good reasons she'd kept her physical distance from him. The feelings that his very presence roused were insidious and powerful.

She closed her eyes and focused on breathing in and out.

He made a sudden sound of exasperation.

Alarmed, her eyes flew open. "What?"

"Alice," he said, "and her impeccable timing." He sighed. "She wants to talk to you if you're willing."

As far as Bella was concerned, Alice's timing was impeccable.

"I think I can handle Alice," she said, wiping her face.

He stood and walked to the door. "May we talk later?"

Bella nodded and then put her head back, exhaling, grateful for the space. Sarah nursed and squirmed, and she focused on breathing. Her stomach ached, and that hollowness in her gut pulsed. She'd noticed that it receded in Edward's presence.

Alice's voice was muffled slightly by the door. "I bring good will and breakfast!"

"I could use both," Bella said, shifting Sarah to her other breast.

Alice came in, setting a tray down by the bed. "Am I forgiven for telling the truth even though it sucked to hear it?"

"Yes, Alice," Bella said huskily, taking the hug that was offered. "Sorry for yelling at you. And thank you for taking care of us."

Alice smiled at her. "It umm . . . seemed like a good time to intervene," she said, looking back at the door, frowning a bit.

"I'll say." Bella looked over at the tray, her stomach rumbling.

"Is she finished her breakfast?" Alice asked, running a finger over Sarah's fleece-covered foot.

"Oh yes." Bella smiled seeing the milky open mouth, Sarah sated to somnolence again.

"I envy babies all their sleep," Alice said, sliding Sarah into her arms. She put her on her blanketed shoulder, and was rewarded with a large and wet burp. Then she frowned. "She's still warm."

Bella felt her head. "Not too much. Why, do you see something?"

"No," Alice said, "I don't see much of her. I see lots of you, but Sarah I only get flickers of. Sorry. I know that's not terribly comforting."

"But Edward can hear her," Bella said.

Alice shrugged. "But not you."

Bella decided this was a mystery to be explored later. The morning had already had enough revelations.

When Bella finished eating, Alice shooed her off to the shower with clean clothes. When she emerged, Alice dragged her into the living room. "Come on, be social. You've been holed up sick for days. Besides, Carlisle's back, and he wanted to talk to you."

"Bella," Carlisle said as he stood to greet her. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea that was going to happen."

"I figured as much," Bella said. "It's okay. I'm grateful she's all right and didn't have to get a lumbar puncture, and that Edward was able to help."

There was a profound silence in the room as everyone absorbed this last statement.

"May I have a look at her?" Carlisle asked.

"Sure," Bella said, moving to hand Sarah to him.

"Why don't you hold onto her. She'll likely be happier if she stays with you." He came closer, holding his hand just over Sarah's forehead, listening to her intently. "She's still nursing?"

Bella nodded, but when he asked about diapers, she couldn't answer. "I don't know. I haven't changed her since last night."

"I'll ask Edward then," Carlisle said. "She seems just fine, Bella. You were right to bring her in though. I hope you won't hesitate if she's ill again."

"No. I'll just make sure I take Charlie along."

"You shouldn't need to," he said, the corners of his mouth turned down, "and if you're really worried about that, call me. I'll come to your home."

"Sure," Bella said uncertainly, but the thanks she wanted to offer was weighted by the very real concern that he might not be there to be called upon.

Though she felt much better for some sleep, Bella was still not entirely well herself, and the beginnings of a wave of dizziness were beginning to buzz at her feet.

"Come on," Alice said, slipping an arm around Bella's waist. "Come sit down and let Rose and Esme pretend to pay attention to you so they can fuss over your baby."

"Alice!" Two indignant voices replied from the couch.

"Get a grip, I'm kidding," Alice said, guiding Bella to the couch.

"It's okay," Bella said, chuckling. "I'm used to being second fiddle to this one."

Esme smiled broadly. "May I?" she asked, holding out her arms.

"You enjoy," Bella murmured, kissing Sarah's head as she passed her over. She watched Esme sigh contentedly, holding Sarah. Rose had much the same look, sitting beside her mother.

Bella knew the feeling. There was something magical about holding Sarah. So much trust in that tiny body, all directed at the person in whose arms she resided.

Esme asked about Charlie at this point, and where he and Sue were. It was easy to talk. So much of the tension, Bella realized, had been lifted by Edward's claim of the responsibility for their leaving. She could simply slip slip back into enjoying Esme's kindness and laughing at Emmett's jokes. Even Rose's commentary was softened a little.

In the early afternoon, Edward reappeared and invited her for a walk.

Bella weighed the question for longer than she knew was expected, considering the last time he'd asked her to do such a thing. She tried to tell herself that it wouldn't matter if circumstances repeated themselves. And then she very quickly revised her strategy and determined she would just keep putting one foot in front of the other if Edward left her again, and pretend her heart beat in her daughter's body. Because she couldn't imagine surviving any other way.

Her heart rate was racing and her cheeks flushed by the time she responded to Edward's question. "Sure, just um, not in the woods."

Edward became very still for a moment before nodding politely and suggesting that they take the short path down to the river.

It was quiet there, and sitting on one of the large rocks, they watched the grey swirls of the water. The crisp air felt good on Bella's hot cheeks. She could almost pretend that Edward didn't affect her the way he did.

After a few minutes of silence, Edward asked, "What happened to your truck?" He wasn't looking at her, but instead staring at the water, kicking a small stone into its depths.

Her shoulders relaxed a little. She'd expected him to ask something much more serious, or to press her more about her feelings. "The transmission went. It would have cost too much to fix it."

"I'm sorry to hear it. I know you liked it."

She looked at him incredulously. "You hated my truck."

He gave a small, wry grin. "Death lets us all be gracious."

She could tell he regretted his phrasing, wincing and turning his face back to the water. There was nothing she could do to hide the uptick in her heartbeat.

"I'm sorry," he said, "that was horribly insensitive."

She shook her head. It had been funny. She was just strung like a piano-wire. "It's okay."

"You're grieving. It was insensitive."

They sat again, more silently than before. The water was an alluring shade of silvery grey, catching fragments of sunlight at its odd angles. It brought to mind the water off La Push, that pivotal day years before.

"When did you come back?" she asked.

"The first time?" he asked. "When Alice saw you jumping off a cliff. Why did you do that?"

A small laugh was half born in her throat. She hesitated telling him. She knew it would hurt him to hear it—that still ran against the grain of who she was.

"When you left, you asked me not to do anything reckless." She swallowed before continuing. "But I discovered that when I did do anything dangerous, I would . . . hear your voice."

Edward's posture became rigid, and Bella waited anxiously for his response. She didn't like that she was anxious. Why should it matter? He'd lied and then left her. She had . . . she wanted to say no regrets about the life she'd lived since then, but that wouldn't be true.

"You jumped off a cliff to hear my voice?" he asked, sounding eerily calm.

"Yes."

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "For everything I put you through."

She shrugged as if it was nothing, as if she hadn't risked bodily harm to more keenly remember him.

"Was that the only reason you jumped?"

"I wasn't suicidal, if that's what you're asking." She didn't add that once in the water, it had been so easy—too easy—to feel it slide over her, not to give up but to simply . . . give in.

She had more questions for him, though. "You left after you came back that time?"

"Yes," he said. "You seemed . . . safe," he frowned a little, "happy even, with Jacob."

She nodded. Her hand went to Sarah's head in the baby carrier. What she'd had with Jake had approached happiness. She didn't correct Edward's misinterpretation. "When did you come back after that?"

"The most recent time was last September. Alice could see you again."

"She couldn't see me?"

"It seems that she can't see the wolves. When your fate mixes with theirs, it disappears. That's why, that spring—"

"You thought I was dead."

He swallowed. "Yes."

"I'm sorry," she said.

He nodded and offered something like a smile, but his face wore a quiet anguish, too.

Bella returned her attention to the river's unpredictable rush, searching for something safe to say. She didn't want to hurt him, for all the good reasons he'd given her to. And even though he'd hurt her in leaving, he'd done nothing but try to be helpful since. When she found what felt like a safe topic to broach, she almost smiled.

"So, seeing as you're back, are you going to return my things?"

Edward's eyebrows creased and then relaxed in comprehension. "Oh, of course," he said. "Your gifts never left. I hid them under your floorboards."

Neither his wording nor his tone were cavalier, and there was no way he could know how much she'd longed for those simple, physical items. How much comfort they would have brought her when he and the Cullens had left. But the way he said it so off-handedly felt like a slap.

Her cheeks flushed and she stood abruptly, huffing out her words. "You can be such a jerk, Edward." She turned and walked back towards the house.

He had no idea what he'd done and wondered if he should follow. Wisely, he decided not to.

Bella kicked off her shoes angrily at the door and stomped off to the guest room. Robbed of even the satisfaction of slamming the door, because it might wake Sarah, Bella slumped in the rocking chair, closing her eyes and moving herself back and forth. Sarah slept on in the baby carrier, oblivious to her mother's turmoil.

Leaving them under the floorboards? Right there but utterly out of reach?

She felt cruelly taunted. Logically, she understood that Edward couldn't anticipate how hearing this would affect her. She tried to reason with herself that she was tired and feeling overly emotional. Irascible seemed a good description for her current state. That, and vexed.

Rocking herself back and forth in the rocking chair, Bella counted the hours remaining on what felt like a prison sentence.

It was Carlisle whose knock surprised her at the door. "I'm heading to the hospital soon," he said. "May I check her before I go?"

"Please," she said, forcing herself to be polite.

Carlisle picked Sarah up this time, tucking her into his arm. He smiled, watching her sleep, seeing her well. "She's still under the weather, and will be for a time, but I think the worst is past." He gave Bella a few more instructions for general care but lingered when these were done.

"I wanted to thank you for talking with Edward. It's been . . . difficult—for him, for all of us."

Bella recognized, suddenly and unexpectedly, the look on his face. It was the same one she kept for Sarah. The concern etched lines beside his eyes.

Bella nodded, taking Sarah back.

"Perhaps," Carlisle said gently, "you might continue to do so?" He nodded towards the door where, presumably, Edward waited.

"Of course," she said softly. Carlisle left quietly, and Edward took two tentative steps into the room.

"Sorry," they both said.

He frowned. "Why are you sorry?"

"For storming off." She didn't need to ask why he was.

He did offer an explanation, though. "We can't leave anything—"

"I know," she said.

"But I wanted to leave as much as I could. I'm sorry. It was cruel and it was callous the way I said it."

Bella was horrified to find her cheeks wet.

Edward sat down on the edge of the bed and slid his hand over towards hers, squeezing it lightly. He let go almost immediately, afraid he wouldn't be able to release her hand at all if he held it beyond the moment.

She wiped her eyes. "Crying over pictures and a CD. I feel ridiculous."

He smiled softly. "It's safer than crying over other things."

She nodded.

After a moment, he asked, "will Charlie be home tomorrow?"

"Yes," Bella said, "they said they'd be back by early evening."

"Do you want to spend the night at your house or here?"

"I think we have an obligation beyond what I want directing that choice." She nodded at Sarah.

He smiled. "I won't tell if you don't. Besides, I'd be there if anyone did check."

"Yes," she said, "I would." She was longing for her own bed and space.

And so, after dinner, Edward drove them home.

At the steps he stopped her, and without a sound, summoned Alice, who appeared, her back to Bella's, watching.

"What is it?" Bella asked, gripping Sarah tighter in her arms.

"Someone's been here," Edward said.

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.