Bella flexed her fingers over the steering wheel of her truck, palming the wheel to the right to match the bend in the road. With the potluck over, it would be a solid thirty-minute drive from the reservation to the Cullens' house, time enough in which to calmly enumerate to herself the reasons for this late evening visit.
One: Victoria was still looking to hurt her or Edward or both of them through each other. The Cullens were aware of this, as were the wolves. The Cullens had asked that this information be kept from her. It was deceit. She wondered if they would quibble over what type—omission or commission.
Two: The Cullens had told the wolves that she was ill, without asking her permission. Yet another violation of her privacy, of herself.
Three: Edward had, only earlier today, told her that he'd realized how controlling he'd been before and implied that he planned to behave differently. Yet it appeared that even as he'd said it, he had already made a stunningly unilateral decision on her behalf. No one was more patently aware than Edward of how she'd spent the last few months being puppeted by a monster who had allowed her no autonomy. Could he not see at least some parallels to his own behavior now?
Forcing herself to remain calm, she pulled over once she was sure she was past the treaty line. Edward would be following her now. There was no way he would ignore her stopping, and she was done pretending that she was alone or—she took a deep breath. Putting the gear in park, she said with something like a growl, "You may as well get in."
When Edward emerged from the woods, his body was briefly shadowed and illuminated by the flash of headlights. He climbed in silently, the smile falling from his lips as he eyed her with concern. She was sure he could hear her heart galloping in her chest, but she knew her demeanor was probably more alarming.
"Are you all right, Bella?"
She nodded once but then remained quiet for the remainder of the drive to the Cullens' home. She had no idea what he was thinking but was grateful the same could be said for him about her. Let him wonder.
"We need to talk," she said as she pulled up in front of the house, turning off the ignition and shutting the truck door gently. It seemed unfair to her vehicle to use it to take out her frustrations with the Cullens.
"Of course." Though he sounded calm, she could see his brows pinched together with worry.
Despite her justifiable maelstrom of feelings, Bella didn't like to see him worry for several reasons. First, he'd suffered enough—they both had. Second, it had the power to sway her resolution. Be calm, she told herself. And be strong. She could not let her feelings for Edward keep her from getting answers tonight. She saw no other way to shift these unhealthy patterns of behavior in the right direction.
She walked past him towards the front door, pushing it open and resisting the urge to smack it into the wall. Yes, she was frustrated on top of everything else, but betrayal was still the word for her feelings overall. Even so, she badly wanted to imagine that some of the Cullens were innocent of the things she'd itemized on her drive here. Esme and Rose were the two she thought she could be sure of.
"I'd like to speak with everyone," she said to the empty living room. She knew Edward was making a wide circle around her, appearing in her peripheral vision.
He gestured toward the couch.
"I'd rather be standing, thank you."
Emmett blinked into existence beside her, quirking an eyebrow at Edward before dropping himself into an armchair. Edward ignored his brother, his gaze locked on Bella.
The other Cullens arrived by means more expected by human eyes. Rose was notably absent. Bella's heart sank. She didn't want to doubt the advocate she'd believed Rose to be, but it was harder now.
"Thank you for coming," she said, swallowing nervously.
"What would you like to discuss?" Carlisle asked. He sat on the couch beside Esme, leaning forward, his hands clasped together.
Bella let her gaze drift over the room, considering the forked path before her. She could hide in insecurity, or she could speak her mind. For all her resolution, it was still difficult to choose the way she knew she had to go. "I want to know if you consider me to be part of your family."
"Of course," Edward said. He sounded offended by the question.
"Carlisle?" she asked, noticing that Emmett had already nodded at her but looked nothing but confused.
"Yes, you are," Carlisle replied calmly.
"And what does that mean . . . exactly?" She shifted her weight. While she wanted to appear resolute, fatigue and anxiety were physically catching up with her.
"It means that we're loyal to each other, that we love each other, and that we protect each other. And above all, we as a family strive to be worthy of that protection."
She considered his answer, staring at the floor and struggling to find the loyalty and love in what they'd done.
"May I ask what's brought on this question?" Carlisle asked.
Bella focused her gaze on him, not prepared to see whatever she might find in Edward's eyes. "Jacob Black told me that Victoria is still looking for me, and that you"—she looked around the room, making sure they understood that the word was all-inclusive and not limited to particular individuals—"specifically asked them not to tell me. He also made it clear that he understood I was unwell and not to be stressed. I'm not sure how much he knows, but it was more than I wanted him to know."
"We should give them some privacy," Esme said, standing up beside Carlisle as if to leave.
"No," Bella said. "Please stay. I've always known there are no secrets in this family . . . except the ones you keep from me." It felt like a low blow, but it was true.
Esme's mouth opened, but Edward's voice interrupted her attempt to speak. "You're right, Bella. We did keep that information from you, at my request. It was my choice, and I will explain it."
Bella's face flinched, hearing her worst fears confirmed. She scanned the room again. "Is there a reason Rose isn't here?" Her need for an ally felt greater than ever.
"She's staying near your father," Carlisle said.
"Is he—?"
"We're being cautious. The wolves will make sure he gets home safely. We've coordinated with them so that you and your father are always protected." Edward seemed so calm relaying this information, but the revelation of yet more she didn't know about what the Cullens were doing felt like another attack on her dignity.
Despite her resolve to remain calm, her heart began to thud loudly in her ears. "I'm trying very hard to reconcile what Carlisle has just said about what being family means with what you said this afternoon and with what I learned from Jake."
Edward looked to his other family members and then back at Bella. "I asked them to delay telling you about Victoria but only until we knew more."
"Why? And until when? What possible extra information could make the fact that she wants to kill me—or you— better in any way?"
"Bella, what can you really do about Victoria?" Edward asked softly.
"Edward." Esme's use of his name was a blatant reproach.
Edward glanced at his mother, his expression calm but his tone unapologetic when he responded. "It's a fair question." He turned back to Bella. "What can you do about Victoria? If she were standing outside in the yard right now, what would you do?"
Bella shook her head. "That's not the point."
"Isn't it? What good is the information the wolves gave to you—beyond frightening and worrying you?"
"I am not some incapable, fragile, useless girl unable to contribute to possible solutions," she said.
"And what would those contributions be?" Edward asked. When she didn't answer immediately, he went on. "You asked us if we consider you a member of this family, and the answer is an unqualified yes. But just as with any family, we have individual strengths and weaknesses, and we balance those as best we can. I could not see, and no one here could provide a reason why you should be immediately and unnecessarily tortured by possible problems to which there were no obvious solutions. The fact that you are ill is a complicating factor which requires an even greater level of mindfulness on all our parts. It . . . " He hesitated, clearly reluctant to say whatever else he was about to.
"What?" she demanded.
He held her gaze as he said, "It puts everyone at greater risk."
The idea that he was blaming her medical issues, over which she had no control, for putting others in danger seemed grossly unfair, and she lashed out to defend herself without thinking. "So what you're saying is that you consider me to be a weak link. I think you very much underestimate my ability to solve problems that involve vampires, Edward. I'm the one who made it possible for you to kill James." The moment she said it, she wished she could take it back. She thought she heard a sharp intake of breath from where Esme was sitting, but it might have been her own. Bella had apologized to Edward for the results of her rash behavior then, and yes, it had solved a problem . . . but the cost had been high and could have been much higher. The sudden realization of the price members of this family, herself and Edward included, were paying even now for her latest attempt to solve an issue with other vampires caused her even greater remorse for her hasty comment.
Edward's eyes widened slightly, and his jaw tightened. "If that's a joke, it's a tasteless one. Our family does not operate by risking each other's lives. But now that you bring that up, I ask again: If Victoria was outside the house right now, what would you do? Would you try to talk to her, reason with her?" He paused a moment, fixing her with a gaze so piercing that she couldn't look away if she tried. "Would you . . . offer your own life to her to protect our family, Bella?"
And in that moment, all she could see was the image of him back in Volterra as she'd made her unholy bargain and traded away both her life and his. She relived the moment that the man that she loved was held on his knees and helpless in the grip of the guard, Demetri's hand covering his mouth as Edward's panicked eyes pleaded with her to take back her offer.
The room had gone completely silent as she remained locked in Edward's gaze, but the anger she would have expected from him was not there. Instead, she saw something like an apology in his eyes. Whether it was for what he had just asked her or that he knew the memories that would have been dredged up by it didn't matter. He deserved an answer even though she wasn't sure what it should be. When he spoke again, there was only gentleness in his voice.
"I don't say any of this to hurt or shame you—far from it. Everyone in this room, myself most of all, is grateful for what you have done and I . . . we can never repay you." He paused as his family members murmured agreement before continuing. "It's just that, Bella, love, you have a history of trying to solve things on your own, and such decisions can have unintended consequences. It is . . . terrifying for me to know that a choice you make could produce a negative outcome from which I can't protect you. As kindly as I can say this, telling you about Victoria possibly being close was just as much of a risk as not saying anything until we knew what we were dealing with. I cannot afford to be distracted when it comes to you—none of us can. Not only would adding more stress to your system unnecessarily be unconscionable, our being available to you when you need us is paramount. So yes, I asked that this information be delayed in being given to you but not kept indefinitely. That was not my intention."
"Bella? May I add something to what Edward has said?"
She was so focused on Edward at that moment that it was jarring to hear Carlisle's voice. She turned to face him, and he smiled softly at her, still sitting in that relaxed, practiced manner of his that had probably calmed thousands of patients over the years. She knew she was one of them. She nodded at him. "Sure."
"I would just like to say that as a member of this family, you will always have whatever you need from us. Right now, you are dealing with some things that make you more vulnerable than you would like to be. What we are offering is our support and our protection. You do not have to carry any of this alone. Please let your family stand for you, Bella, until you are no longer struggling. Let us be your strength."
Bella nodded again, feeling tears prick at her eyes. As upset with the Cullens as she had been when she'd entered the house, there was no denying the sense of love and acceptance she was feeling from them now. She struggled to hold onto the reasons that had brought her here, and her thoughts swirled as she tried to make sense of what Edward had told her, especially when some of it introduced ideas she hadn't considered before. It was a lot to take in.
Then again, even if he was right about some choices being necessary for her well-being, the fact remained that he had still made decisions that she didn't think he could explain away. She forced herself to remember the points she had made a list of on the way here, the things she wanted answers to. Carlisle had offered protection on behalf of the family, but as much as she wanted to just wrap herself up in the sense of security it could provide, it still couldn't justify everything she thought they had done.
"Thank you. I'm grateful for that, but"—she looked at Edward again—"Jacob still knew I was ill. I didn't tell him that yet. He said you and Carlisle did." She knew her voice held a note of accusation, and she meant it to.
Edward nodded, not looking as contrite as she expected. In fact, he didn't look contrite at all, really. "Ah yes, the wolves. We did provide Jacob and Sam with information about your illness, but it was only after they had approached us about Victoria. It was part of the same conversation, but it must have been shared through that pack mind-link that connects them. It's my fault for thinking they would be mature enough to manage it." His words were bitter.
So he didn't deny that he'd spoken to them—had told them about her being sick. She wanted to argue with him about the wolves and defend her friends, but her heart was pounding louder and louder in her ears, and it was becoming hard to focus. She wanted to tell him how frustrated she was with what she viewed as his repeated condescension, but she couldn't seem to form the words, and her skin was prickling, feeling as if it was undulating over her arms. She was so tired. She watched Carlisle's head turn slowly so that he was looking at Edward.
Edward eyed his father and then looked back at her. "I meant no condescension, Bella. We gave them only the most basic information. We had discussed this with you before, but I knew you hadn't had a chance to speak with Jacob yet."
Though she couldn't see it moving, her skin felt like a viscous, bubbling fluid, pockets of angry heat making it rise from the rest of her body. Had they talked about this before? She couldn't remember. All she could think in the moment was about how she'd been controlled for months, and she had less than zero tolerance for any kind of manipulation—
"I'm not trying to 'manipulate' you."
Her face felt flushed and her heart thudded even faster and louder in her ears as she forced out, "But you talked to them about me, and you should have at least told me."
Carlisle's gaze remained on Bella. His foot lifted as if he were poised to move forward.
Edward seemed to blink in slow motion. "You're right, and I apologize for that."
What? Bella stared at him. Just like that? No argument or suggestion about why he might need to do so again?
"No, no argument."
Her eyes widened. "You can—?"
"Hear your thoughts right now? Yes. Carlisle?"
"I think—" Carlisle began.
"That I should lie down." Bella's head felt like it was physically spinning. She considered stepping towards the support column in the open room, but at two paces away, knew it was too far. Hands spread out like counterweights, she lowered herself to a kneeling position where all equilibrium melted away. Edward's hands broke her fall.
Frustration made her cheeks blaze. Did all important declarations have to be punctuated by some fresh and new manifestation of her human frailty? Again she cursed it along with Demetri and her withdrawal.
"I'm rather fond of your 'human frailty,' so maybe leave that off the list of things to curse," Edward said softly, taking the blanket that Esme handed him, wrapping her up in it.
"I'm not cold," she said through clenched teeth.
"I know. It's so I can carry you somewhere more comfortable than the floor." Edward paused. "Unless you prefer . . .?"
"Somewhere else would be better." Somewhere else would let her pretend she had not just declared that she didn't want to be treated like a weakling right before collapsing to the floor.
"No one thinks less of you because of what your body is experiencing, Bella."
And he could hear her. Shit.
"I really wish I couldn't, considering what it seems to be costing your heart. Carlisle?" There was an urgent edge to his voice this time.
Edward set her down on the couch in Carlisle's study, then turned to face his father, shaking his head. "Ask her."
"I'd like to give you a sedative," Carlisle said to Bella, pulling a small box from a cupboard and snapping open a plastic syringe bag.
"For my heart?"
"To calm you down." He shook his head. "I don't understand everything that's happening with your body, but your stress responses have been activated, and your heart . . ." He held the loaded syringe in his hand, thoughts unfinished.
She understood that her heart's pounding this way was not good. She was also half-waiting for Carlisle to explain the potential side effects for the medication he proposed to give her.
"It's fast-acting, will put you to sleep, and may cause you to forget what happens when you're under its influence," Edward said quickly in response to her thoughts. "But it will help calm your heart."
That Edward still seemed to hear everything she was thinking aggravated her even more. Double-crap.
If her internal commentary bothered him, he said nothing, eyeing Carlisle and his syringe.
"May I administer this?" Carlisle asked.
"Yes." Bella turned her head away, eyes shut.
Like Edward, Carlisle was quick and merciful with his needle. When she opened her eyes again, it was to a much darker room, all the summer twilight gone. Her vision slowly cleared, and as she blinked her way into full consciousness, her present moments were much more relaxed than those of the recent past.
"I'd recommend remaining horizontal," Edward said. Sitting across from her, he was fidgeting with the crest at his wrist, turning it around and around. As she so often did, she recognized his attempt to appear more relaxed and human around her.
"Can you still hear me?"
"No." He stopped moving his hands.
She tried nodding. Good. No dizziness. "How long?"
"Just about an hour. Carlisle gave you a very low dose."
Expelling a breath, Bella let her head rest against the pillow that had been placed underneath it. "Okay." She gathered the threads of their last conversation, tying them up into something that made sense. Fresh and powerful feelings seemed to have tangled themselves up in an already complex set of circumstances.
"I hope you believe I never meant to patronize or coddle you, Bella," Edward said quietly. "I respect and admire you in all the ways those words can mean. I only asked everyone to wait until we had as complete a picture as possible to present to you. We shared information with the wolves, and they with us as we have always done—as we are required by the treaty to do. Nothing was definite or concrete. But as for telling the wolves you were unwell . . . I'm not going to apologize for that. I'd do it again."
His words stung, but given what had just happened, she supposed she would need to make peace with the fact that more people knowing about her illness, as it were, was necessary. With the effects of withdrawal now controlled, she could remember more, including the conversations they'd had about informing the pack on keeping her safe.
She nodded again. "I understand," she whispered. Her throat was tight with many powerful feelings. Tears began again, desperation and guilt making her shake her head.
"What's wrong?"
They were alone, it appeared, or as alone as one could be in a house of vampires. She tried swallowing and clearing her throat. It remained tightly closed against the words she struggled to voice in contrast to the new clarity of her thoughts. How could she say this? It was so selfish, and while it felt like it was crushing her now, she was sure she could persevere through the challenge. She had to. Given that she'd asked to be treated with the respect the Cullens offered each other, there was no room for such indulgences.
"I suppose you're still angry with me, Bella, but you needn't censor yourself to spare my feelings."
She shook her head. He didn't need to take on what wasn't his to feel guilty for. It wasn't either of their faults. What she was feeling had been building since he had brought her home from Volterra.
"I don't think I can do it," she finally said.
Edward looked down, nodding almost to himself. "You don't think you can forgive me."
"It's not that. I understand what you did and why you did it. I love you and . . . I know you all love me. I forgive you, if there's anything to forgive." She wiped at her face, trying to right herself more. A fresh wave of spinning made her let her head fall back. She grimaced in frustration.
His eyes were on her again, and they registered his confusion. "Then what is it?"
"I don't think I can—I'm really struggling with being changed, Edward. Right now it feels . . . unbearable."
He leaned forward, bringing his face closer to hers. "And you won't be if it isn't what you want."
She closed her eyes again. "That's not true, and you know it."
"No one will compel you, Bella."
Opening her eyes and meeting his gaze, she saw the determination in his expression. He inched closer, reaching for an empty part of the blanket, wrapping his hand in it and offering it to her.
And as much as she struggled to take his hand, worried that his touch would be contaminated with the horror of what the worst of his kind were, she knew the words she had just spoken had been hurtful enough. She swallowed hard as a way of physically pushing down her fear and was successful in laying her hand in his, thankfully unable to feel his chill emanating through the thick fabric.
"You don't hurt me by refusing this, Bella. I hope you understand that."
A gentle rap at the door drew her attention. "How're you feeling?" Carlisle asked, entering with a glass of water. He set this down within her reach before sitting in the room's other chair.
Her throat still constricted by feeling, Bella shrugged her answer, sitting up in the bed slowly and then sipping at the water. They would hear her heart. There was little more she could tell them that they didn't already know.
"I think it's time for that conversation with the wolves," Edward said. He eyed Carlisle and then Bella again. "It will be one less secret to keep, one less lie between you and your friends."
Bella did not need to read minds to see the questions on his father's face, nor did she doubt that there was a whole conversation silently unfurling between them. What had brought Edward to suggest speaking with the wolves now, at this particular moment, she wasn't sure, but there really was little to be gained by delay. It could only look bad for the Cullens, keeping this from the people with whom they'd made a treaty. She realized anew that while the Cullens had not necessarily honored the spirit of their agreement with her, they had honored the letter of it. They had not approached the wolves with the information about her change—which was technically the one discussion she knew Edward had promised her would not happen without her presence. The last sting of their perceived betrayal slowly leached away.
Even so, her heart sank. Soliciting the wolves' agreement would bring her closer to a fate she dreaded. But fate was just that—immutable. It was something inevitable, inescapable.
"Are you ready for that conversation, Bella?" Carlisle asked, frowning a little.
No. But her feelings were inconsequential on this front. The lives of the entire Cullen family rested on her becoming a vampire, no matter the empty offer of escape that Edward had just made. If she was part of this family, her role was clear: to protect them. Becoming a vampire did so.
"It's as good a time as any," she managed, clearing her throat with the raspy words. It was, and time wouldn't make her feel any readier or lessen the Quileutes' sense of betrayal.
"Then you should make the call," Edward said. He pulled out his phone and handed it to her.
She hesitated taking the phone.
"Jacob will answer," Edward said, reassuring her.
She didn't doubt he would. She took the phone, seeing Jacob's number already on the screen, and pressed send. This small act was the tipping point, the step at the forked path she'd imagined earlier. It was the point after which nothing returned to its former state, including her, and as she lifted the phone to her ear, she thought of how her last remaining days would be known simply by the ones that came after this moment or the ones that came before.
A/N for 2020-10-09: As always, profound thanks to Chayasara and Eeyorefan12 for their HOURS of editing on this story. I swear they did more work on the story this week than I did. They really are amazing and I'm darn lucky to be able to work with them.
A happy long weekend or Thanksgiving to my Canadian friends. Feel free to toss me your favoured turkey accompaniment or preparation method in the comments, or you know, respond to the story ;-)
- Erin
DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.
