I'm posting lots of updates today! I think I caught all of the errors but I'm only human so if I didn't, I'm sorry. I hope you guys are taking this time to catch up on things and read lots of fic! I'm still searching for a new fic to become obsessed with. I've read so many already. So, like I said last chapter, if you have one you really like PM me.

16

Time

Light reflected off the bathwater as I peered up, taking in the contorted scenery while I lay fully immersed. The hot water almost stung, but instead of shying away, I basked in the sensation, enjoying the way my skin flushed in response. I breathed in, watching as bubbles of air rose to the water's surface before popping. My bones creaked beneath the water as my back realigned. Closing my eyes, I tried to clear my mind, which grew increasingly impossible by the second.

Tonight was the night. Tonight, I would meet Edward's family for the first time. Tonight, I would become even more immersed in his life. He had already captured my heart, and now, I wanted to know every part of him.

Despite my efforts, my mind began to drift. There was an insecurity regarding tonight that I couldn't stifle. What if they don't like me? What if they take one look at me and think I'm wrong for Edward? I didn't know what to expect and, judging by the drastic shift in Edward's mood as of late, I already had my reservations. Lately, he seemed so distant—so withdrawn. As his mother's birthday had approached, he became increasingly quiet. Even his behavior around Charlie had been different. I wondered if he was aware of the changes in himself; seeing him this way was sobering. Is his relationship with his mother really that horrible? Images of my mother filled my mind as my imagination quickly wandered. In my mind's eye, I saw her loving smile, and, in the corners of my memory, I heard her soft voice.

Suddenly, water filled my nostrils as I inhaled without thinking; I choked before I shot out of the water and spluttered. I coughed until my lungs burned and cursed for forgetting myself like that. Rubbing the suds away from my face, I slowly sank back into the water as I considered how I should deal with tonight. Maybe I can help mend his relationship with his mother? Having a mother—even a horrible, thoughtless one—was better than having no mother at all. Wasn't it?

Even if she was horrid, she was breathing—she was there when he needed her. Even if their relationship was strained, at least he could speak to her when he wanted. She was just a phone call away. He could hear her voice any time; see her face whenever he chose to. I didn't have that option. Never again would I be able to feel my mother's embrace or be able to confide in her—never would I be able to tell her about Edward and Charlie. She would never know them; she would never know the happiness I had found.

I stared blankly ahead, wondering what she would have thought if she would have been able to meet the man who had become my entire universe. Thankfully, she hadn't been here to witness my darkness; she hadn't been here to witness the time my life had been shattered. In a way, she had helped me take those jagged pieces and slowly put them back together until they formed a resemblance to the girl I had once been. The memories of her warmth—of her love—had mended me. However, despite my efforts, I hadn't been truly healed until Edward touched my heart. Slowly, I had begun to trust again. A smile touched my lips and, for the first times in days, I felt weightless. Edward … Oh, Edward. With his image in my mind, I knew I could get through tonight—and whatever other challenges life threw in my way.

Accessing my appearance in the mirror, I took a deep breath as I realized after an hour of shaving, plucking, brushing, curling, and scrubbing, this was as good as I was going to get. Not too shabby, Isabella. Not too shabby. I smiled at my reflection, hoping Edward would find me just as appealing. I couldn't remember the last time I had dressed up like this. In a white cocktail dress, which molded to my curves, I actually felt sexy. Gazing at my reflection, I ran my fingers along the lines of my body, paying special attention to my puckered nipples before my fingers descended farther. The alarm of my phone alerting me it was time to go paused my wandering fingers, and I blushed, realizing Edward was waiting for me.

After I quickly threw on a purple cardigan, which complimented my dress, I rushed to leave my apartment. I grabbed my handbag and key before I locked my front door and moved to knock on Edward's. His gasp flooded my ears as his front door swung open. That sweet sound of appreciation was quickly followed by a cacophony of sounds coming from Charlie. Edward's eyes were glued to me however, which made me shift back and forth on my feet; I gently moved my thighs together with each movement to provide the throbbing between my legs with a small amount of relief. His heated stare made me want to weep, but I knew now wasn't the time for that. Not even close.

His eyes moved up and down my body before they came to rest on my breasts, causing them to feel heavy against the bodice of my dress.

"What is it?" I asked, making him fully aware of the fact he had been gawking at me for what felt like an immeasurable amount of time.

"Sorry," he muttered, running his free hand through his unruly hair. "You just look incredible tonight."

I flushed, biting down on my bottom lip to suppress a girlish laugh. "You look pretty amazing yourself, Edward," I replied as my eyes took in his appearance.

In a dark blue button-down and a pair of dress pants, he looked absolutely divine. Heavenly and sinful at the same time. I wanted him to hold me in his arms like I was a precious jewel—as he so often did—but I also wanted him to recklessly fuck me into oblivion, making me forget about everything else. I wanted him to pound into me until everything else faded away. One day, Isabella. One day.

As my flush deepened, I adverted my attention to something else: Charlie, who had been watching me with wide, innocent eyes. He looked just as dashing. So, I said so and stepped forward to tickle his chubby, little belly. He squealed and reached for me. Seeing the eagerness in his eyes left me breathless as my arms outstretched to gather him into my embrace. He rested his head against my chest, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the closeness as I inhaled the scent of his baby lotion and No More Tears shampoo. The scent reminded me of Cyndy and the days I had spent taking care of her when she was very little.

"You ready to go, beautiful?"

"Beautiful." I loved when he called me that.

"I thought afterward we could grab dinner somewhere. I wasn't planning on being at this thing all night," he continued.

This "thing." He wasn't excited at all, was he?

"Sounds good, Edward. Whatever you want to do," I replied as I watched him lock up his apartment before we took off down the hall.

Charlie chirped in, supplying us with a response consisting of a garble of noises filled with various inflections. He gazed up at me, seemingly waiting for a response. The edges of my lips curled, causing him to garble something else. Bending down, I nuzzled his little neck with the tip of my nose before I kissed his cheek, and then his wild hair.

"I think he's got a crush on you," Edward commented dryly with a hint of a smirk on his face.

"I guess you'd know a lot about what that's like, wouldn't you?" I teased right back—my eyes on his ass as I followed him to his truck parked at the edge of the lot. "With the way you constantly look at me," I continued as a smirk plastered on my face, "I can't imagine how hard it must be for you to contain yourself."

He stopped walking, causing me to nearly fall into him as I came to a halt, too. He looked over his shoulder, regarding me with eyes smoldering like liquid fire. Unable to help myself, as I wanted to push him to the edge without causing him to fall victim to his emotions, I winked at him and bit my lip as I suppressed a smile. His mouth dropped open. I passed by him, acting so confident I surprised myself. I heard him burst into laughter behind me; it caused me to break into a smile. As I listened to him, I decided the sound of his laughter was my favorite sound in the entire world. I would do anything to hear that sound more often. I looked down at Charlie, whose eyes were shooting wildly about as he looked for the source of his uncle's booming laughter. Before I could turn around to show him, I felt Edward approach. I gasped as his arms wrapped around my center.

I turned in his arms as my mind searched for another clever thing to say. But, before I found the chance, Edward pressed his lips against mine. The softness of his mouth caused every witty thought to escape me. I lost myself in the kiss, and when he pulled away, I found I wasn't sated—I doubted I ever would be. His eyes scanned my face before his lips twitched into a smirk. He knew what he did to me, and he knew what I wanted. Now, it was just a waiting game.

My eyes glued to Edward's knuckles, which turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. If I had my doubts about his nerves concerning tonight, now, they were long gone. With his shirt sleeves rolled up around his elbows, I could see the veins running down his muscular forearms twitch in reaction to his unforgiving grip. I reached forward and placed my hand on his thigh, squeezing lightly. My effort didn't have its desired effect. Instead of relaxing, Edward tensed at my touch and jolted in his seat, nearly swerving into the lane on our left.

"Edward!"

"Sorry," he responded as he slowed down slightly. Throwing me a sheepish smile, he continued. "I wasn't expecting that."

"You weren't expecting me to touch you?"

He chuckled. "I guess not."

"I like touching you."

God, I sounded lame.

"Well, I like your hands on me."

He cringed as the words came out, obviously unimpressed with himself, too. He muttered a "fuck" under his breath before he shook his head.

"Are we close?"

"Too close," he quipped. "I was hoping this drive would be a bit longer, if I'm being honest. You know, so I can mentally prepare."

"That bad?" I grimaced.

"No, not that bad."

He was a horrible liar. Although I wanted to, I didn't press him. I turned my gaze forward, peering down the empty road ahead of us as my mind conjured images of possibilities surrounding what Edward's childhood home might look like. I couldn't wait to see where he had grown up; I couldn't wait to see the people who had raised him to be the lovely man he was today. If they were anything like him, they had to be wonderful—wonderful, as well as incredibly giving. When the house came into view, I smiled, realizing it was exactly what I imagined: warm, wholesome, and traditional.

"I can't believe this," Edward muttered as he weaved around cars parked haphazardly along the edges of the street leading to his childhood home. "It's like they invited everyone they've ever met."

I forced myself to suppress a laugh—there was just something about disgruntled Edward that I loved. With his brows knitted together in obvious frustration, he continued down the dark, packed road until he found a place to park a few blocks away. He threw his truck into park with an annoyed huff and swung open his door before jumping out and popping open the passenger door to gather Charlie from his car seat. I stepped out, careful in my heels as I usually stuck to flats. Tonight, however, I wanted to look my absolute best for the two most important men in my life.

The neighborhood's graveled roads felt like hell against the soles of my heels. The sharp edges of the rocks were unforgiving, and despite my efforts to ignore the pain, it was impossible for my body not to react to the sharp discomfort. Edward looked at me, eyes searching my body for signs of distress before he frowned, looking forward to the rest of the walk ahead of us.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, baby," he commented, running a hand through his hair in an effort to tame it.

"It's fine." I shrugged. I knew I should have opted for comfort. "This is why I never wear heels."

He turned to me, regarding me for a pregnant moment before he replied, "Well, you look beautiful tonight, baby. But, you look beautiful in anything you wear."

I shook my head, smiling despite myself. I knew he was just trying to flatter me; however, I couldn't deny the girlish pleasure his compliments brought. Just hearing him call me "baby" made my heart flutter wildly in my chest. If any other man had been complimenting me, I would have assumed they were merely being nice or had some sort of ulterior motive.

However, Edward was genuine—so genuine, in fact, I wondered if he could ever be false. Nothing about Edward Cullen was artificial. Every fiber of his being rung true, which put part of me at ease, causing me to trust his words. Knowing his compliments came from an authentic place made them all the more potent—all the more important. He always said what was in his heart.

With a flush coloring my pale cheeks, I replied, "I love it when you call me that."

"Baby? I've been wanting to call you baby for a while now; I didn't want you to freak-out on me."

I giggled at the idea. "I would never 'freak-out' on you. I like being your anything."

His "baby." His "girl." His "world." Anything would do as long as it meant I was his.

"Well, I'll keep that in mind."

With a confident smirk and a wink from him, I nearly melted where I stood.

Edward stiffened beside me as we walked past the threshold of his parents' home. With a tense jaw and dark, pensive eyes, he guided me inside, never bothering to let his eyes wander. I took a quick glance around the room and discovered why he had instantly recoiled and become withdrawn. The looks he was receiving took my breath away.

This was a room filled with his parents' "friends," and they were looking at Edward as if he were some sort of delinquent. I understood the man wasn't everyone's cup of tea—I understood the judgments one could make by looking at him. Nevertheless, their stares made me sick with anger; their judgments made me want to lash out and protect him like a lioness protecting her cubs.

Where were his parents? Shouldn't they be here to tell their friends how wonderful their son is? They needed to be defending him, explaining how well he has done under the soul-crushing circumstances. My face flushed as the anger continued to course through me. How dare these people judge him! How dare these people not care for him like I do!

He was beautiful—beyond beautiful—and yet, this crowd turned their faces away in disgust and prejudice. They looked at him as if they had smelled something sour. Taking a deep breath, I calmed myself down. After years of not feeling able to fight for myself, I wanted to fight for Edward. If I couldn't do it for me, let me do it for him. With that thought present in my mind, I felt stronger than ever. I had dealt with so much and hadn't given myself an ounce of credit; perhaps, I'd had this strength bubbling inside of me all along. Edward needed a strong woman in his life—someone to love him … someone to keep him honest. Charlie needed me, too. He had lost so much so quickly. I could be the strong female presence he needed in his life. The sort of presence I so constantly craved.

"You ready to meet my parents?" Edward asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

My eyes snapped away from the crowd to peer up at him. I found his eyes had thawed, and his expression had loosened. Meeting his parents … Suddenly, my strength seemed to dissipate, and I felt nervous once more. Edward gave me a confused look, as if he was wondering what I had to worry about. Holding on to him as a lifeline, Edward led me through the crowd, almost smiling as he held Charlie against his chest while looking out at the attendees in front of him. Apparently, he was unbothered by their supercilious glances. If only I could be so cool about it.

His eyes were focused ahead on a handsome man who looked to be in his early fifties. With dark hair and a ruggedly handsome face, he resembled Edward quite a bit. A smile tugged on my lips as I realized this man must be his father. This is the man from before! The handsome one who helped him move. The man's eyes brightened as his gaze locked onto his son. In this moment, I knew I liked the man. His proud, paternal smile gave me a profound sense of relief. I wanted Edward to have parents who were just as proud of him as I was.

As soon as I noticed the beer the man was nursing, my gaze shot to my date, anxiety blooming in my chest. How does Edward deal with things like this? If alcohol is such a temptation, how can he walk away unscathed? Beside me, Edward was stone-faced and strained. His rigid form was hard to miss. His muscles were tight beneath the fabric of his shirt, bulging ever so slightly. His eyes were focused on the drink, and his energy, which I had quickly become attuned to, felt chaotic, like a wild animal attempting to break free of its cage.

I squeezed his hand in mine, hoping the small gesture eased some of his stress. His shoulders dropped slightly, but not significantly enough to ease my own anxiety. Charlie, who was just as attuned to Edward's emotions as I was, stirred in his uncle's arms as his eyes darted around the room for the source of his uncle's discomfort. My eyes moved back to Edward just in time to find his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip before it slid back inside, disappearing between his lips before he bit down to stifle a groan of irritation. I didn't know what he was irritated with—his father for drinking in front of him or himself for not being immune to temptation.

Edward relaxed slightly and waved a polite "hello" to his father's colleague before his attention fell on his father. His eyes were trained on him before they wavered, dropping to the beer, appreciating the way the bottle sweated. As if he had been smacked, he snapped out of his trance, eyes widening as he peered at the man before him. Squeezing my hand, he took a shaky breath. I wondered if he was summoning the courage to introduce me. I smiled at this idea, falling for Edward even more. If that were even possible.

"Dad, this is my date, Isabella Swan." His pensive face morphed into a content expression as he uttered my name. Turning to me, he introduced his father. "Bella, this is my dad, Carlisle Cullen."

Carlisle grinned at me. His eyes swept over my body appraisingly before he gave his son a knowing grin. His aura was warm—similar to my father's—and I took to him immediately. Reaching out my hand, I gave him a firm shake—just like my father taught me—before letting go and turning my attention to his son.

"So," Carlisle began, his voice gruff, "you're the beautiful, young lady my son can't stop talking about."

"Dad," Edward bit out, displeasure mixing with shock. Letting go of my hand, he moved to run his fingers through his untamable mane as his eyes shot to gauge my expression. I flushed under his scrutiny before my attention reverted to his father.

"I'm just joking, Edward," Carlisle said in a deep, paternal voice. He smirked at his son before he continued. "It's very nice to meet you, Isabella." His eyes danced between us, and his mouth twitched, as if he yearned to say something before his son's glare inspired him to refrain. "So," he began again conversationally, "how did you two meet?"

As soon as he asked the question, it was somehow obvious he already knew the answer. However, I replied anyway as I wondered how much Edward had told his father. Does he talk about me frequently? Has he told his father how he feels about me? Does he confide in him?

"Well," I answered, straightening up as I spoke to the man I had been longing to meet since witnessing Edward's own paternal skills, "I saw him around town a few times, but I was always far too shy and nervous to ever approach him. So, when I saw he had moved in next to me, I knew I finally had my chance."

Edward stiffened at my side, and my gaze shot to him, wondering what I had said to upset him. My gaze flickered toward his tense figure, and to my surprise, he seemed more contemplative than upset. Had he not noticed my interest in him? Had he not realized the way my eyes followed him whenever he moved through a room?

"You wanted to talk to me before you ever saw me move in?" he asked, in what seemed to be utter disbelief.

Was he serious?

With a small, sly smile, I answered him. "Well, you're kind of hard not to want, Edward."

His eyes sparked, and in this moment, I wanted nothing more than to lose myself in his kiss—I wanted to feel him pressed against me; I wanted him to understand the depths of my desire for him. He might not be "conventional," but he was twistedly beautiful. His originality deepened my desire for him. He was a tortured soul wrapped in a sinfully handsome package. He was a giving, unselfish man behind a gritty façade.

When Edward didn't contribute to the conversation—finding himself far too busy peering at me incredulously—I went on to add, "We started talking when Charlie was teething—I had heard his cries. So, I stopped by and helped out … and it progressed from there."

Carlisle 's mouth twitched into an approving grin as his gaze darted between the three of us. "Well, that's great. Edward needs a girl like you in his life." He winked at his son.

My body flushed as Edward snuck his arm around my waist. I tried not to look too embarrassed by my body's reaction to him in front of his father. I swear my body will never grow used to his touch. I'll never grow bored of the feeling of his fingers caressing my flesh. I'll always yearn for this intimacy.

I was so immersed in his energy I barely noticed as his body became rigid. Following his gaze, I noticed a beautiful woman standing across the room with a terse smile on her surgically enhanced face. This is his mother? Was this cold, distant woman his mother? My eyes shot to Edward for confirmation of my theory. Judging by the look on his face, he knew this woman incredibly well. The love he had for her, swimming in his eyes, broke my heart. Perhaps she's not as bad as you're imagining, Isabella. You haven't spoken to the woman, yet; give her a chance.

She crossed the room, looking overtaxed despite being at her own party. No wonder this woman doesn't have any wrinkles—she never smiles. Feeling disappointed in myself for being so judgmental, I pushed those thoughts aside. I shouldn't judge this woman; after all, she had lost her son recently. I understood loss, and I understood that, as individuals, we all carried that weight differently. We all had different experiences as we walked down the dark, seemingly endless path of grief. I had been horrible to everyone around me after my mother passed away; perhaps, in that way, Edward's mother was similar to me.

With this thought in my mind, I tried to ignore my gut feeling as she greeted her son with a cold, forced smile. I told myself she was grieving, but from Edward's expression, it was far more than that. Has she always been so cold and passionless toward him?

His mother didn't acknowledge me, and Edward, far too overwhelmed with emotion, didn't utter a word. Before I understood what he was doing, he handed me Charlie and advanced toward his mother with arms outstretched. My heart pounded in my chest as I watched him—wanting nothing more than to see her features soften as she opened her arms to him. That didn't happen.

As I rocked Charlie in my arms, I watched the scene before me with a guarded heart and misty eyes. His arms wrapped around his mother, pulling her close, and in response, she gave him nothing. Her arms remained at her sides, not even twitching with the desire to hold her son. Her face, so beautifully made-up, was guarded. Her eyes … her eyes were what affected me the most. The look swimming in their depths wasn't one I would soon forget. Her eyes were so dead—devoid of emotion completely. I wondered what she felt when he held her. Was it truly possibly for her to feel nothing? Could her son's touch really be so meaningless to her? I blinked away the tears in my eyes, wanting to appear strong for Edward. In this moment, watching her with anger bubbling in my chest, I knew I hated her. She had lost so much, but she didn't appreciate what she still had.

Am I being unfair? A hypocrite? Had I been like this, too?

Edward pulled away to gaze at her face, his eyes calculating as he took in the haunting image of his unresponsive mother. Her callousness continued to confound me. Not even a smile. She doesn't so much as spare him a look that isn't filled with disappointment. I didn't know what she had to be so disgusted about, but I knew I was disgusted with her. Edward looked to his father, searching for what, I didn't know. When he turned his attention back to his lifeless mother, he seemed just as lost. His father seemed equally perplexed, gazing at his wife as if he were seeing her for the very first time. Perhaps, in a way, he was.

The tension in the room was palpable; so thick, I felt like I was choking on it. Charlie, who had been impressively quiet this entire time, grew weary in my arms and started to kick—body wiggling around as he searched for a more comfortable position. I brought him to rest against my breast as my hand moved to pat his back, desperately trying to comfort him before he had a tantrum in the middle of the party. Maybe that would be a good thing. Maybe it would help break up all of this awkward tension.

"Bella," Edward began as he let go of his mother and stepped away, "this is my mother."

This was the woman he had painted—this was Elizabeth.

His voice was weak and defeated. I pushed back the tears, suppressed my emotions, and forced a smile on my face. I wondered if it looked more like a constipated grimace.

"It's nice to meet you," I lied smoothly.

She responded with a tight smile and despite myself, I went on to exchange pleasantries with her. Somewhere in my heart, I held on to the hope that perhaps she wasn't as terrible as she appeared. While I made small talk—something which I had never been a fan of doing—her eyes darted all over the room as if she were looking for an escape.

Her lack of interest deflated me. The knowledge that Edward was watching me was the only thing that kept me going—kept me talking. While I spoke, I thought, this was the witch who withheld so much information from her son; this was the witch who hadn't helped him along the way. Until recently, Edward hadn't realized Charlie had many benefits waiting for him. In my own stupidity, I had always assumed he knew. He had been too shy to speak about his struggles—especially his financial ones. What man would want to open up in that way to a woman he was interested in?

While I was sure his father wasn't blameless, Edward had told me his mother sat him down and helped him take the "next steps" after his brother and sister-in-law passed. Some job she did. My eyes narrowed as I wondered what sort of woman would do something so deceitful to her own flesh and blood. She noted my change in demeanor, and her gaze sharpened. With my head held high, I ignored all of her efforts to intimidate me. Later tonight, I would permit myself the luxury of allowing my emotions to escape, but for now, I would keep them nicely bottled up. As I sized her up, Edward's words from last night came coursing back into my consciousness.

"If she didn't tell me about this shit, what else has she been hiding from me? Didn't she see me fucking struggling? Jesus, Bella! When Dr. Russel told me about that shit, he looked at me like I was a fucking idiot for not knowing! But how would I know about that sort of thing? I've never had to deal with this crap before."

I frowned, wishing I could do something, anything, to make him feel better. The fact that she wouldn't tell him about all the benefits he could file for was almost unbelievable. What sort of woman would do that? Had she been so scatterbrained she had merely forgotten?

"I wish there was something I could do." I frowned, reaching forward to take his hand in mine. "At least, you know now. This will be a game changer, Edward."

"Yeah, I know. But still … how could she do that?" he mused before falling silent.

My eyes continued to shoot toward Edward, who was watching his father as he finished off his beer. Carlisle moved to walk toward the kitchen to grab another. Edward turned to me with anxious eyes and asked, "Bella, do you mind hanging out for a bit? I need to get that stuff from my dad."

He was referring to the paperwork he needed: birth certificates, death certificates, etcetera. His eyes were intense, and the muscles in his jaw were taut as he looked at me. Bloodshot eyes searched mine, taking my breath away. I wanted to follow him; I wanted to protect him, but I knew he had to do this alone. I knew I couldn't shield him from the world—I had been shielding myself this way for so long. So, I did all I could do. I provided him with an encouraging smile before I leaned in to kiss him gently on the cheek. With Charlie snuggly in my arms, I watched Edward as he turned to follow after his father. I peered at the space he had previously occupied, sending a silent prayer for the best.

As much as I wanted to love both of his parents, they had both been so deceptive. Why on earth had they allowed Edward to suffer for so long when a small amount of information from them could have helped him along—could have eased his transition? They hadn't provided Edward with any guidance. They had allowed him to walk down this rough road alone. Edward faced every new responsibility without fear—or at least, it appeared that way to me. While he had fought to gain control over his new life, his parents had kept him in the dark—forgotten.

Suddenly, I didn't want to be here anymore; suddenly, this party seemed like a horrible joke. While there were happy faces and smiles as far as my eyes could see, there was a coldness in the room, which was impossible to ignore. Perhaps, it stemmed from the callousness of his mother. Maybe this was why she ignored me: I saw straight through her bullshit. To me, her kind mask wasn't convincing.

I felt as if I had been a poor judge of character in the past—trusting when I shouldn't have; opening up when I should have protected myself—however, Elizabeth's character was as clear as day to me. She may have been great to some, but as a mother, she was piss-poor.

Looking down at Charlie, I muttered, "You don't realize how lucky you are to have Edward, little guy."

The words sounded almost strange on my tongue because, in his very short life, he had already lost so much—but he had gained so much, too. He had gained another father who adored him, a man who loved him far more than he loved himself. When Edward looked at this lost, little boy, it was as if he saw the embodiment of all the goodness in the world—all the goodness he felt personally detached from.

Charlie babbled a response as I sat down on a chair farthest removed from the party. While the people filling the room may have been lovely, after conversing with his mother, I was no longer in the mood to speak to another soul.

While I played with Charlie on my lap, I gazed around the dimly lit room, wondering what type of people surrounded Edward while he had grown up. Everyone here seemed so pretentious—so out of touch with reality. Was this Edward's life? Were his rough edges once tamed? If he had ever been around people such as these, his strong personality must have been diluted. I couldn't picture him as docile or the least bit subdued. He was too … well, he was too himself. He consisted of sharp edges and a jagged heart. In this crowd, he stood out like a sore thumb; I found this beautiful. He was different than all the rest. He was unapologetically the person he had been born to be.

My legs bounced as I tried to release some of the tension brewing inside of me while I gazed at the clock, watching it as the minutes ticked by like hours. Charlie grew restless in my arms, obviously sensing the nerves in my body as I thought of his uncle. What's taking so long? What are they discussing? Is he telling his father off for not bringing all of this to his attention sooner? Questions blazed through my mind as I remained glued to my seat.

"He'll be here soon, sweetie," I told Charlie, but truly, I had been comforting myself with these words. "Why don't we give your uncle a good night tonight? After this, we can all do something nice together. Wouldn't that be great?"

He gave me a curious look, and I laughed at myself. Just staring into his wide, guileless eyes gave me such comfort. I bounced him in my lap, trying to keep us both entertained as I scanned the room again, looking for my man in the crowd. I didn't find him, but I found his mother staring at me from her perch across the room. The look on her face suggested she had just smelled something rotten. Usually, I would have felt anxious under this type of scrutiny, but tonight, I straightened my spine and met her gaze.

For a moment, she only stared at me, judging me from afar; but, as I continued to make eye contact, she looked away, pretending to have laughed at something a woman close to her had said. Even from my distance, I could see she was being false. I wondered if the people around her could tell, too.

My eyes remained on her while her gaze moved around the room. I was certain she was looking for her husband. My eyes broke away from her to search for him, too. If he were here, Edward had to be here. I found nothing. With a sigh, my gaze returned to Elizabeth. Her artificially beautiful face looked stressed—as stressed as a surgically enhanced face could look. Setting her drink down on a nearby table, she excused herself as she left the room, moving in the same direction Edward and Carlisle had taken a long while before. I wanted to follow her, but I remained in my seat, knowing Edward needed to handle this alone.

I had no reason for alarm, but something about this situation didn't sit well with me. Every piece seemed to be falling into place, leading to something catastrophic. Something was brewing underneath this perfectly packaged exterior.

Just as my worry was about to transform into a panic, I spotted Edward as he walked down a darkened hallway, moving to rejoin the party. The crestfallen look on his face said everything. Even from this distance, I saw the pain swimming in his dark eyes. Something had happened—something horrible. I rose to meet him.

The rest of the world faded away as he became the center of my universe. Everything around his stature was a blur as he walked toward us with his head down and his shoulders slumped. His usual stride was contorted, making him barely recognizable as he moved forward. To me, this was a different man. He was not the same Edward Cullen as he had been prior to following his father down that same hallway not even a half hour before.

I closed the distance between us, and he stopped before me, sensing me without having to look up. His eyes were locked on what was in his hand: a pile of papers holding all of the information he needed. With a white-knuckled grasp, he held a pile of papers that somewhere, had two death certificates.

When I peered up at his face, which was just as painfully contorted as the rest of him, I wondered if he hadn't truly come to terms with their deaths until now. Hearing it was one thing—seeing it was one thing—but having an impersonal piece of paper, which told you such a monstrous truth, was another. In print, it was real. With the evidence right in front of him, there was no denying the facts.

"Edward …" I began before I came up short.

What could I say? Sorry for your loss? I'm sorry your parents didn't help you do right by Charlie? I'm sorry they concealed this from you? I remained silent, waiting for him to give me a sign concerning what to do next.

"Let's go, okay? I got everything. I'm ready to get going."

There wasn't an ounce of warmth in his tone. My heart dropped as I watched him pass by us without a single look. He appeared so broken—so numb. Charlie reached out for his uncle, only to whimper as he received no response. I opened my mouth to say something but decided to remain silent. Instead of speaking, I followed dutifully behind, knowing the best thing I could do for him now was to give him space.

As the chill from the night hit my face, my mind conjured up different possibilities as to what had happened in the short time Edward had been away. Every one of those possibilities made my blood boil. I knew it was irrational, but I wanted to throw myself in front of him. I wanted to experience the pain and help carry the weight with him. Unfortunately, as I gazed at the tired man ahead, I realized this was a weight he wanted to carry all on his own.