Hey, lovelies! As promised, here is another outtake.

This one deals with the aftermath of that failed date in chapter 26, seen from Bella's eyes — but as you'll find out, there is something extra (and really special) too, from a previous chapter ;).

Thanks to CoppertopJ for her magic beta mind.

Also, I would like to offer a huge shout-out and 'thank you' to molliemcperkins! First and foremost, she is an incredibly talented artist. I feel so very lucky that she stumbled upon this story and got inspired to make an incredible illustration based on it. You can find the drawing (and many, many others) on Mollie's Instagram. Follow her for more amazing art, you won't regret it!

Now... let's see if Bella's angst can rival Edward's!

*Bella's Point of View*

2008

More than anything — more than blood, more than happiness, more than life — I wanted to touch him.

To feel his familiar warmth under my fingertips and let the feeling splinter its way through my bones, fracturing everything in its wake: barriers, pain, fear.

It was an awful thing really — to be so deeply aware that the only person capable of mending your heart, was also the person who had shattered it to pieces in the first place. It was too much power in the hands of one person. Edward was the only man who could build me and ruin me all the same, and I could not have that. Not again. He had already damaged the very foundation of who I was. Already razed my dream of being with him in a way that mattered. It was sick to still want him after that.

And yet… I did.

And even worse, it went way beyond desire. Because sheer desire? Sure, I could tame it, at least I hoped I could. But not love. Love was an indomitable beast that knew no bounds, nor limits. And I loved Edward; so much so, that I would not have thought twice about choosing to save his life over mine if it came to it. There had to be some fucked up irony in that: my willingness to die for him not once, but twice. Although the first time it happened, my will hardly played a part in it.

In my own naivety, I had been so convinced that there was still hope for us. Listening to the lullaby he had composed for me tore me from the inside out, because it made me aware that I was not alone in my suffering. He was hurting too. It was apparent that we both needed to be healed, so as soon as he was done playing, in the heat of the moment, I went back to the one thing that had the ability to mend us, of soothing the wounds that Edward's lies had dug into our connection.

And damn, it all felt so good, so right for a while. His kisses, his touches, his fervent words… one after another, he broke down my barriers, owning me yet again. I came so many times at the mercy of his mouth, and for a while, I felt like we were still in his Chicago home, far away from reality. With Edward loving every inch of me so tenderly, so passionately, I could almost sense the delicate scent of roses and peonies from his departed mother's garden. But then I opened my eyes and his teeth were buried in my throat — as they had been many times before — and my heavenly bliss shattered.

Because exactly one second after the pleasure hit me, I no longer felt loved, but preyed upon. Just a piece of meat for him to devour at his own volition, nothing more. And there was no mending or soothing beyond that.

I wondered what would have happened if he kept his teeth to himself that night. Would we have gone all the way, or would there have been something else getting in the way of our desires? Would sex have been enough to fix us? I doubted it. But just the thought of going all the way with him was enough to send lustful flames through my tissues. Yet as much as I wanted to, I couldn't allow myself to go there again.

Because sure, I made it clear to him that his bite terrified me. I was more than ready to let him fuck the living hell out of me, as long as biting remained off the table. I craved to let him. But at the same time, I knew it was a selfish need. Sex itself was not the key to our problems and pretending that it was just to feel the glorious pleasure of letting go in Edward's arms again would have meant that I was using him. And I could not have that. After all, mirroring his misdeeds just to make him suffer for what he had done would not have been helpful — not for him, and not for me. After that night, I promised myself that if we were to make love again, it would happen when both of us would be sure of what we wanted. It was only fair — for my own peace, but for his own dignity too.

In the meantime, I did the only thing I knew: I closed off. And as much as he tried to open me back up, I remained closed, too afraid of the possibility of letting my guard down once more. If I slipped again, I would have let him have his way with me. I knew myself well enough to be convinced that I wouldn't be strong enough to say 'no' to such a paradisiacal possibility. And then what? The hurt would still be there when all would be said and done. It would not be much of an improvement from our 'friends with benefits' phase, it would only throw both of us into a dangerous game of misplaced feelings.

Edward tried — God, he really tried — to make things better after that night. It started with a simple note he had slipped in the pocket of my jacket the following morning. It broke my heart to read its content.

"My love,

What happened last night was my fault. I am deeply sorry for scaring you off like that. I should not have rushed things. The thing is… I wanted to make love to you so badly, my judgement went out the window. It won't happen again, I promise.

Come take a walk with me tonight, to discuss things. It'll rain, but I'll be waiting for you.

Yours,

Edward"

I didn't know how to respond to it without hurting him, so I didn't. He ended up taking that walk alone, while I was spiraling out of my mind in Rosalie's arms. She told me there was no point in feeling bad for not being ready to take things to another level, because I owed it to myself to heal before anything else. And I knew she was right, but at the same time, I felt my insides squirming with shame and guilt when Edward walked back inside the house that night, his hair and clothes drenched from his lonely walk in the rain, and shot me a single defeated look before heading upstairs.

But he didn't give up. Because the next day, I found a few chrysanthemums sitting on top of my personal pile of books, with a little note that said:

"Bella,

I found these when I was out walking. They reminded me of your eyes. And I love your eyes.

I'll be ready to talk when you are.

Love,

Edward"

I spent forever staring at the flowers and analyzing his handwriting before my brain gave up and decided it could not take that sight anymore. Because the flowers and the note were both obvious reminders of the kind of power he had over me without even trying. He didn't realize it, but each time he tried to get me to give him another chance, a new wave of crippling fear and crushing anxiety resurfaced in my core. Fear that if I accepted his propositions, the last ounce of control over who I was would slip. Anxiety that if I refused, he would eventually grow tired of me, mate connection or not.

His notes didn't stop then, and nor did the flowers. It seemed that he had plenty of thoughts he was willing to write down on paper and pass on to me. All of them romantic, all well-meaning, all too late.

Soon enough, I started getting frustrated. If he would have showered me with all these flowers and declarations of love one month ago, I would have been left speechless and swooning for days. As it was, their meaning got distorted and even lost, whenever my own mind brought to the forefront all of his past lies — a thing that happened quite often. He didn't have a reason to lie now, surely, and yet… I found myself second-guessing him at times, even when I tried to convince myself not to. But there was no convincing the subconscious layers of my mind, they had a will of their own.

Ultimately, I found that the best thing I could do was to avoid him as much as I could, given the fact that we lived under the same roof. I tried to avoid his gifts even, by placing the notes somewhere out of reach and placing the flowers in vases, and forgetting them there. But as the flowers wilted, I felt myself wilting with them. I could not find it in me to throw them away when they inevitably dried out; it would have felt like I was throwing away whatever feeble hope was still there for me and him. Esme did the dirty work of discarding them for me, while Edward watched with hopeless eyes.

But I never let her throw away my dried bluehearts.

That would have meant throwing away the best memory I had of Edward — and truthfully, the best memory of my entire life.

I could remember the sun, and how I didn't fear the way it made my skin glow, because there was no one there but me and Edward. I could remember him joining me in the water, and the feeling of completion that followed once he was finally by my side. Everything felt right when he was by my side. The euphoria of having him there made the knowledge that he wanted us to remain just friends pale, almost non-existent. It didn't matter that I was in love and he wasn't; I could keep it a secret if it meant that I got to have all the parts of him that he was willing to share with me for a little longer.

That day, I was happy in a way I had never been before, and when I told him that, he did the unthinkable and kissed me.

He never kissed me when we weren't actively making love. But then again, maybe he was extending the benefits of our friendship and simply forgot to give me a heads-up. And I could not blame him for that — not with the knowledge I had then. Furthermore, I didn't want to torture his soul, after the lonesome existence he had been living. And I most certainly didn't want him to feel trapped, like he felt with Grace. He was my safe haven, and I wanted to be that for him too, because he deserved peace, and he deserved a true friend.

When the kiss ended — too soon — I realized I could not keep my thoughts to myself one moment longer.

"You know, everything is so different from what I was expecting when the summer began…"

"I know, angel."

My bones melted when he uttered that word — angel — but I didn't let him see it. I never let him see how that word alone made me believe that there was a possibility for the two of us to become more one day. I feared that if I did, he would have disappeared altogether.

"But I think it's better than whatever awaited me in Olympia," I continued.

"Don't say that."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not true."

He sounded desolate, angry almost, and it made no sense. Seconds ago, there was nothing but serenity in his voice. If before I was comfortable just floating on my back, now I could no longer do it. I immersed myself in the water, until I was face to face with him.

"Why would you say that?" I queried, trying my best not to sound hurt.

Edward hesitated, his gaze avoiding mine, but he answered at long last.

"Because, as much as I love having you around, I am aware that this is not the life you deserve."

"This is like crying over spilled milk," I countered, but quickly realized that it wasn't enough to make him understand my point, so I kept going. "Besides, this is much more interesting than moving on my own to a new city, trying to live with several roommates. I told you I'm not great with people — except when it comes to you, apparently. I'm only a little… afraid."

It was my turn to be hesitant, but I knew it was too late to backtrack now. Not that it mattered anyway. After all, we always told each other everything — perhaps with the exception of what I actually felt for him. I had grown to understand that the very idea of relationships was too much for him, and I knew better than to push towards a direction that was going to be the end of us both. I didn't want to bring him the levels of terror that Grace had brought him.

"Of what?" Edward pressed.

"Of… you." Pure shock flashed across his face, and I rushed to continue. "I mean, not of you, per se. I'm rather afraid of what's going to happen when we'll have to part ways."

"We don't have to do that."

"Well, we can't spend an eternity like this either, can we? You had to part ways with Grace eventually."

I expected many things — for him to nod understandingly, for him to change the subject. So when Edward grabbed my face in his hands, I was left completely speechless. There was nowhere else I could look but his eyes. His dark, coal eyes, burning with a sentiment that was far from rage. I had to make an actual effort to not reach out to kiss him.

"Don't you ever compare yourself to that woman again," he said. "Do you understand me?"

While I knew he was expecting an answer, it was a challenge to concentrate on what I wanted to say next when he was holding me like that… as if I was his. Truly his.

"You are nothing like her," he insisted." She had brought nothing but contempt to my life with her games when she was alive, while you… God, Bella, you're actually making this half-life worth living for a change. You're light and joy and purity and everything I didn't know before meeting you. Can't you see it?"

He sounded convinced, but I had my doubts. Because yes, I was not a psycho-stalker like Grace was, but I wasn't all that great either. If Edward could access half of my thoughts, he would have run away scared. Because beneath all those promises of 'just friends', I loved him with a desperation that scared me. It was the single most compelling emotion I had ever felt, and he was at its very core. It went beyond being fascinated with every facet of his personality, beyond wanting to know every corner of his mind, beyond wanting him to fuck me for days. I loved him so much I could give my life for him.

"I don't know…" I managed to say. It sounded lame, even for my ears, but it didn't seem to deter Edward from making whatever point he was trying to make.

"Listen," he began. "If tomorrow you decide you want to take off and live in the Himalayas, I'm following you there, no questions asked. At this point, I really wouldn't know what to do without you. You are the only person in the world I've ever felt this way about, as insane as it may seem. I'd be a fool to lose you, you're… you're my best friend." My heart ached, conflicted. I wanted to dance and fly after hearing him declare how lost he felt without me, but I also wanted to disappear altogether, now that he reminded me that I was his best friend. Never more than that. "So, if I hadn't made myself clear enough, Bella… I want you to know I'm not leaving your side. As long as I'm wanted and needed, of course."

That promise worked to bring my emotions to a more stable state. Edward wanted to stay. With me. I found myself nodding and circling his shoulders with my arms as if to make sure that he wasn't going anywhere. I wouldn't have known what to do if he did. Perhaps my sudden despair awoke some kind of mercy in him — or perhaps he could no longer bear the fact that we were both naked in the pond — but next thing I knew, he pulled me towards him, until I felt his erection brushing against my abdomen, and he kissed me with such abandon, that I forgot which planet we were on.

When I felt the piercing pain of his teeth biting down my lip, I lost my reason, calling out his name.

"Yes?" Edward sounded breathless when he spoke.

There were three words that could capture a fraction of what I felt for him, but they were sadly off the table. So instead of uttering them, I went with something else — something equally true, even if not as commanding.

"Is it completely crazy if I tell you… that you're everything to me?"

His face changed, a smile brighter than the sun rays enveloping us lighting it up.

"Not at all. Because you're everything to me too. Absolutely everything. Come back here, angel."

He pulled me back into the kiss I had interrupted, then made love to me for hours on end. Later on, when we were racing through the forest to get to my truck, I felt weightless, free, content. I felt at peace with what we were, once again ready to ignore the side of me that starved to belong to Edward completely, in every way imaginable. After all, we could keep doing what we were doing without anyone getting hurt — or so I liked to believe. And then, when we arrived at my truck, he crushed my resolve in an instant, without even realizing it.

He gave me bluehearts.

And how was I supposed to be just a friend to him, when he was placing flowers behind my ear, while blessing me with his crooked smile?

On the side of the road, right beside my old truck, I fell in love with Edward all over again.

My world only spiraled further from that point on. When we arrived home, he didn't waste time at all. He picked me up in his arms and walked us upstairs, to his old bedroom. The bed was long gone, but the desk was still standing. I found myself with my back pressed against the warm wood, as he threw the journals of his youth on the floor, so that they didn't get in our way. The second I reached to remove the flowers from my hair — I didn't want them to get ruined in the midst of our fever — both my wrists got pinned to the table.

"No, leave them there," Edward murmured, and I moaned, because he had already made his way inside me, spoiling me with a perfect sense of fullness that only he could provide.

"But… they'll get crushed."

"Not if we're careful."

His hips rotated, stirring my insides with his cock, and it was enough to get me to surrender to him. For the rest of the night, we made love so slowly, so gently, as if one of us could break if we went in rougher as our instincts commanded. He kept telling me how beautiful I looked with the bluehearts in my hair, how he loved to be inside me when I came, how he could not possibly get enough of me, of us.

When the dawn rolled in, we were somewhere on the floor, tangled in a tight embrace between fragments of splintered wood. Edward was idly caressing my throat with his lips, and at some point, his mouth moved against my skin to utter something — quieter than a whisper, as if he didn't even want to be heard.

"Mine forever."

But I heard him.

When my own despair was getting out of hand, I always found peace in this memory. I looked back on Edward's promise to never leave, on his hand planting bluehearts in my hair, on his voice confirming softly that I was his for the rest of eternity, and hope would bloom — timidly, barely, but surely. I needed to hang on to this memory more than ever now, for my own sanity.

But it was difficult to do so when the house emptied and only Edward, Esme and I remained. She tried her best to get us to coexist peacefully, but she was fighting a losing battle. If there was peace for me and Edward somewhere down the line, her little trips weren't going to bring it. But I knew she had nothing but the purest intentions, so I didn't want to cut her wings.

It was Friday when she brought us to the ice caves near Granite Falls, to explore them. The rain was in full blast, which meant that the regular tourists were nowhere to be seen. As she was trying to tell us a tale about some orphans that she and Carlisle helped in the '80s, all I could concentrate on was Edward. He had his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket, and the beanie that Esme insisted he wore was soaked. He seemed to be far more focused on what his mother was saying than I was, because he kept replying to her. I wanted to have the energy for that too. I really did.

But with Edward's presence so inescapable, thinking clearly was not an option.

I barely noticed the icy tunnels Esme guided us through. In my mind, I was replaying the lullaby he had composed for me again and again, in a frenzy… and the kiss that followed. God, what an exquisite torture it was to replay that kiss. To remember the determined, fearless passion with which Edward's lips crashed against mine, and to be so deeply aware that much of that passion was nothing more but guilt in disguise.

How many times had his ardour been nothing more than a deep, misplaced sense of shame, morphed into the acceptable layers of burning lust? For this reason alone, it was impossible not to put a question mark on each and every time we had ever made love — specifically how much of his fervour was a direct result of him trying to make it up to me. Perhaps he had never been the generous and selfless lover I had considered him to be. Perhaps he had been trying to make it up to me all along through sex, hence the boundless generosity.

The possibility was troubling, but it wouldn't have surprised me if it were true. I expected it to make me feel used, but then I glanced at Edward as he was following Esme out of the frozen cavern, and my reasonable senses left me again.

I didn't like to admit it — not anymore — but he was still so painfully handsome. His beauty would have sent my heart into a self-destructive rhythm and it would have made my blood boil with pure need if I was human. I didn't understand how he could look so ravishing when he was wearing a plain rain jacket, but as always, he didn't even have to try. With his sculpted jaw, his broad shoulders, his imposing height… I had no chance of remaining immune.

Soon enough, I found myself mentally cursing the wetness that had started to pool inside my underwear. I prayed that being back under the rain mantle would be enough to cover the scent; it was hard enough to mask my longings from him without my stupid body betraying me.

Just as we were leaving the ice caves behind, a gust of wind blew in our direction, carrying with it the appealing fragrance of black bears. But as inviting as it was, I had already hunted the day prior. I didn't want to overdo things. However, Esme didn't seem to share my line of thought. Her pupils were dilated with hunger when she spoke.

"Do you mind waiting here a little? I haven't fed in over a week."

"Not at all," Edward responded way before I got the chance to.

"Bella?" she checked.

"Absolutely, go ahead." My voice was brave, but I was anything but that.

One hug away from her later, we were all alone, trapped in a situation I had been trying to avoid for a while now. My mind and body were wired to crave him, and not having anyone around us made the temptation almost impossible to bear. I knew I had promised to myself that I would not be having sex with him again until I made up my mind about us, but it was so easy to find excuses to break that promise when we were alone and he looked like an actual Greek god.

I could run away, but I liked to believe I was more civil than that. Neither of us said anything for the first few minutes. We just walked in silence, side by side. There was a time when we could have peaceful periods of silence, when we didn't have to talk to know that things were good for us; but this was not one of those times. The silence felt like a punishment of sorts, and the longer the quietude stretched, the heavier the burden got.

But what could I even say to him?

I'm sorry that my mind is too broken to function healthily enough for a relationship.

I don't know if I can ever trust you again.

You broke me and I don't know how to find myself again.

I still love you, even if it doesn't look like it.

Oh, and it'd be amazing if you could somehow fuck me into complete oblivion.

Nothing felt right. Fortunately, Edward was the first to break the ice.

"It feels like we're being babysat in a way, don't you think?"

I shrugged.

"She wants what's best for both of us."

"Oh, I know," he added. "It's just a little ridiculous that they think we can't remain alone without breaking into a fight."

"Can we?"

I didn't really expect an answer, and he didn't offer one. I noticed he had stopped walking, so I stopped too. We were on a regular tourist trail that was flanked on both sides by trees. Edward chose to take cover under the crown of a red alder, where the rain wasn't pouring as heavily, so I followed him there.

"So… you never responded to my notes," he offered, once the silence began to burn. His tone wasn't accusing, just sad.

"I… didn't know what to say."

"Whatever is on your mind. I am here to listen."

He made it sound so easy. I wanted to find the strength to voice all of my fears out loud, more than anything. But when my eyes raised up to meet Edward's, I was instantly reminded of all his lies. Him asking me to reveal my deepest worries to him was simply too much. He had been having the upper hand all along. Was it so wrong to defend myself, after being deceived so deeply, so purposefully?

"God, Bella…" he sighed. "You have no idea how much I wish I could read your mind."

"I'm glad you can't."

"It'd at least give me the faintest clue about what the fuck I'm supposed to do here. And how I can fix this…"

"How many times are we going to have this conversation? Not everything is fixable."

"I know, but we are. We have to be, for God's sake!"

As I was trying to find my next words, my phone rang. Thankful for the interruption, I hurried to respond — only to see who was calling and to realize the imminent unpleasantness that would follow. I answered, reluctantly.

"My baby! It's been so long!" Renée sounded loud and optimistic, as per usual.

"Hi, mom."

She proceeded to apologize for not calling me for the past few days, and there was no pretty way of telling her that I was, in fact, grateful for the silence on her part. I loved her, but keeping up with her — and all the stories I had to tell her to keep the secret of who I was safe — was exhausting in a way I didn't dare to express out loud.

"It's fine," I assured her. "I've been busy anyway."

"Oh, so Edward's really keeping on your toes, isn't he?"

"Yes, he's… he's really amazing."

I hesitated, but I didn't allow my voice to crack. I was stronger than that.

"Tell me all about it. Any interesting date nights lately?"

And there went my strength.

"Yes," I managed to say. "We watched movies in the garden. Edward set it all up."

"Ah, how romantic! He certainly knows how to woo you."

"He does."

"You've got to love a man who puts in the effort like that."

This was getting increasingly difficult. Lately, I had been avoiding talking to my parents over the phone when I had people close by. I had grown to understand that it was much better to have these conversations in a room, alone, where I still had a tiny semblance of intimacy left. So having such a discussion with Edward by my side felt like actual humiliation. I hated the idea of him seeing exactly how weak I was.

"Remember that I want to be the first one who receives a wedding invitation," Renée continued, having no clue whatsoever about the way her words turned into daggers aiming straight to my heart.

"It's not like that, mom."

"Sure it isn't. As if I haven't already seen the way you two look at each other."

I wanted the ground below to open up and swallow me whole. My knees felt weak all of a sudden.

"I'm going to have a blast telling you 'I told you so' when you walk down the aisle in a white dress," she giggled. And the worst part was…I could see it. I could see myself in that white dress she was talking about, walking towards Edward. But the image shattered before it even formed fully, taunting me with how impossible that scenario was.

"Stop, you're being weird right now! I mean it."

"Baby, you're saying this now, but you'll remember my words when he gets down on one knee and he—"

I could not take it anymore. I hung up the phone and threw it directly on the ground. I heard a cracking sound, but it was the least of my worries. It felt as if my shame had taken a form of its own, hanging above me like a dark cloud that threatened to never leave. The need to disappear completely grew inside me, ready to explode and save me from my meltdown.

"Bella?"

It took me a moment to realize that Edward's arms were circling me carefully now. An embrace whose comforting warmth I knew too well. An embrace that was the last ounce of gasoline dropped on the fire that was consuming me.

"Let me go."

"I think your mother needs to know, this is not good for you…"

He was still holding me, staring at me with concerned eyes.

"You can't keep doing this, love, it's eating you alive… I told you before, I can take care of it myself. Let me just call your parents and—"

"No!"

My insides trembled when I shouted, and I had to use all my force to break free from Edward's tight grip and disregard the brusque emptiness I felt once I was free.

"No," I repeated. "What's eating me alive, more than anything, is every second I'm around you, Edward. Because all I see when I look at you is what could have been. And even more than that, what could never be."

There was no taking back my words, but I didn't want to. They were ugly and mean and rotten and, more than anything, true. I wasn't about to sugarcoat the pain he willingly put me through each time he decided I didn't deserve the truth. Maybe we were doomed to never recover from this — which was why I wanted him to know that it had never been my choice to walk down this perilous path.

For a second, I feared that my words might have triggered something bigger inside him. Because as much as it hurt to have him there, as a constant reminder of what we almost had, there was something that could potentially hurt infinitely worse — not having him there at all. I was walking on a double-edged sword, but I found equilibrium when I looked back on the day he gave me bluehearts.

The day he told me he would stay with me, and follow me anywhere. The day he said I was his forever.

That day was my single, yet strongest reassurance that he would never leave.

Yeah, that didn't pan out as hoped :')...

Thank you a lot for reading! Let me know your thoughts on this chapter, because reading and responding to them is the best reward in the world.

Stay safe and happy!