Overall consensus: devastating for everyone about Mike, but happy Edward and Bella are officially back together again. We knew they would find their way back to each other, but it was imperative they brought their best selves back into the relationship.

Thank you for reading and reviewing, and thanks to my team for putting up with all my craziness.

Bella

Are you sure it's not any trouble?

I'm in the kitchen of my apartment, peering into the closed oven when my phone vibrates on the counter. Satisfied the traditional Thanksgiving pies I'm attempting to bake aren't burning, I reach for my phone and lean back against the stove to let them bake a little longer as I answer Esme's text.

Of course not. We have plenty of room!

It's not necessarily a lie; my apartment is as spacious as a simple, off-campus apartment can get. There are two medium-sized bedrooms, a decent-sized eat-in kitchen, and a living room off the small hallway leading to the front door. The building is full of college students, so it was easy to fit in when I had first moved in right after graduating high school. The inhabitants of the building may have changed over the years, as there weren't too many college students living here when my dad bought it all those years ago for work purposes, but it ended up working in my favor. Finally free from the restraints of my life in Forks, I came into this apartment like a breath of fresh air. I found myself again. I flourished.

And now I'm hosting my first Thanksgiving dinner with Edward and Esme tomorrow night.

I'm practically giddy as I stand in my kitchen, the delicious aroma of apple and pumpkin pie making the apartment feel alive again. Considering the lows we've had over these last few weeks, any sign of life is welcomed with open arms. From my place in front of the oven, I can hear the TV in the living room, some basketball game on at a low volume so we can concentrate on our upcoming finals. They may be a few weeks out, but there is already work to be done.

For both of us.

Peeking out from behind the kitchen wall, my eyes stop on Edward's form sprawled out on my couch, a book resting on his chest that he was, at one point, reading and jotting down notes in. Now, his chest evenly rises and falls as he sleeps, and I smile softly, hoping wherever his mind has taken him to right now is as peaceful as he looks.

If anyone deserves it, it's this guy right over there.

Life is funny sometimes; he's just starting to come out of his own darkness to realize it. It has been a difficult month since Mike's death, the reality and permanency of the situation ebbing and flowing like waves in Edward's mind. Some days were so dark nothing, and no one could bring him out of bed, even after he adjusted to his medication. Visits with Dr. Young have helped Edward tremendously with the guilt he carries about Mike's suicide, and nights like these remind me of how many things have changed and still remain the same after these last four weeks.

Like us.

He's here. We're here together. He's coming out of the hole he's buried himself in since he was a child, yet he holds onto the same wonderful pieces of himself that made me fall for him in the first place. His books. His journals. The way he shyly asked if Esme could come to LA for Thanksgiving this year since he isn't ready to go back to Forks just yet.

He's in there. He's coming back to us again, a little more each day, as he allows himself to grieve and accept. He has allowed his body to adjust to the correct medication dosage over this last month, and each day I see a little more of himself appear than the day before.

He's here.

Here is relative; fleeting, sometimes. And Mike's death has shown us all that here is not always permanent, either.

It could have set us back. Edward could have pulled away from us all and retreated into the dark recesses of his mind that only he knows about. But somehow, he remembered that being here together, now, is the only thing that matters in this little life of ours.

The walls of my apartment have never seen such quiet happiness in the year and a half I've lived here.

I'm insanely happy. Happier than I thought I could ever be.

Another message from Esme vibrates on the counter.

Okay. Are you sure it's not too late? My flight will be in by 11!

11 is fine! See you soon!

With one last glance at the pies, I head towards my bedroom to get changed. Classes ended earlier today because of the holiday, leaving our schedules wide open to pick Esme up from the airport. If all goes to plan, my pies will be finished and cooling long before we have to leave. Since tomorrow will be busy and my kitchen is small, I decided to cook the pies a day early to save us from the inevitable holiday chaos. I'm slipping into a pair of leggings and one of Edward's hoodies when I hear the sounds of the couch shifting from the living room.

"Bella?"

I turn the light off in my bedroom and head toward the living room. "Did I wake you? I'm sorry."

"No, not at all." Edward smiles sleepily, sitting up with a wide yawn. "Was I out for long?"

"Not too long," I say, sitting next to him on the couch, facing him. He nods, reaching a hand out for me to scoot closer. Grinning, he slides me into his lap, and I nestle my head onto his chest as his arms wrap around me.

"The pies smell good," he murmurs, his voice still heavy with sleep.

"I hope they taste like they smell. I've never made them from scratch before. Never hosted my own Thanksgiving, either."

His arms tighten around me. "I'm sure they're amazing. And besides, no need to worry. Esme will be here to help us."

I pull away from him and pretend to be confused. "Us?"

"If you're brave enough to let me in the kitchen," Edward laughs. "You remember my baking skills."

I remember the first time we baked Christmas cookies back at his apartment in Forks, and now we laugh softly about it in my quiet apartment. My eyes close against his shoulder as I soak it all in.

"I missed this," I whisper. He shifts, so I'm looking up at his face, his eyes soft as they dance within mine.

"Me, too," he replies, his head bending down to capture my lips with his own. They're soft against mine, lazy and loyal, and my heart flutters as our kiss deepens.

I love this.

Kisses and caresses that don't have to lead to anything else. Neither of us having to steal glances over our shoulders to make sure no one else but us knows what we're hiding. That's the beauty in our chaos recently — we aren't hiding anymore. Sometimes life is too short to wait for things to fall into place. Sometimes we need a little nudge, and it took Mike's death for us to realize we were wasting precious time, especially when we both knew what we wanted. So, we've been taking our time acclimating to our new lives — a life without my family, without Mike, without secrets, without Edward hiding his anxiety in the darkness like he had done since he was a boy.

Each day Edward comes back to us a little more, and today is no different. His hands slide down my side, reminding me how good they can make me feel. But we're not there yet.

And that's okay.

Being here with him, like this, is all I need. Just like everything else, it'll happen when it's supposed to happen.

"Are you up to coming with me to get your Mom?"

"Yeah, definitely." Edward nods. "Wanna grab something to eat on our way? It'll wake me up if we get out of here for a bit."

"Definitely," I smile. "We'll go when the pies are done? We'll still have plenty of time before she lands."

"Sounds good." He gives me a small smile in return, and even though it's small, it's there.

And that's the most important thing that matters.

He's here.

——-u——-

"Did you grab that extra bag of gifts by the door on your way out?" I ask frantically, turning around in the passenger seat to look behind me.

Edward chuckles next to me as he drives. "For the second time, yes."

"Sorry. I just can't forget them," I answer, sighing in relief that he remembered when I was too frazzled to.

"I got them," he reassures me again, a small smile of amusement pulling on his lips.

"Thanks."

Never taking his eyes off the road, he steers the car around another turn. "You okay? You seem nervous or something."

"I think I am nervous, actually. A little."

"What for?"

I sigh again, resting my head against the back of the seat as we continue driving. "I'll be staying with you and Esme for a whole week for Christmas. I don't want to impose on your holiday traditions just because I have nowhere else to go."

Edward scoffs. "Imposing? Never." He keeps his eyes ahead but reaches over to rub the back of my head affectionately. "Do you remember how happy Mom was at Thanksgiving? I think she's even more excited now if that's even possible."

I can't help but smile as I think back to Esme's trip to LA for Thanksgiving, my heart squeezing at memories that will never leave me. "She's so perfect she doesn't seem real sometimes."

"You know what was real? The slap she gave us on the back of our heads when we were thirteen when she caught me, Eric, and Mike going around the neighborhood playing Ding-Dong-Ditch." He shakes his head at the thought while I can barely control my laughter. I can picture all three of them cowering in front of Esme. "That shit hurt."

Edward drives my car effortlessly as we follow the winding paths back home, each spin of the tires bringing us one step closer to uncertainty. "Are you going to visit Mike's family?"

Edward nods. "Yeah. Eric and I are going to stop over one night this week."

"They'll appreciate that."

Edward clears his throat, his brow furrowing in heavy thoughts. "It's the least I could do."

I shake my head. "It's a kind and respectful thing to do. The 'least you could do' implies you did something wrong. And you didn't," I remind him. "You know that."

"I know," he sighs, and I know he does. "Some days it doesn't feel like that, though."

"Is today one of those days?"

We pass the sign welcoming us into Forks, unease settling in our stomachs. "I don't think so, no. But I don't know if I'll ever be able to wrap my head around being back in Forks without him here, too. Not even us hanging out, just him not being here at all. It feels…wrong. I know it's hard for you to understand."

"No, I understand. He wasn't perfect, but he didn't deserve the battles he fought in his own mind. Especially at the end," I say sadly. Even though I was often the brunt of Mike's cruelty, I never would wish this on anyone. I reach for his hand, unthreading his fingers from my hair to squeeze them in my own on the console between us. "So, I'm not going to let your thoughts trick you, either."

"Thanks," Edward smiles, bringing my hand to his mouth to kiss it. "I'm okay, though. I don't feel as…foggy today. I've been feeling clear for a few days now."

"I could tell," I send him a knowing smile, only for him to do the same.

"How?"

I shrug, looking out the window. "Just because you may not say it doesn't mean I don't feel it. Does that make sense?"

"Absolutely."

——-u——-

"Here you are, sweetheart," Esme says a day later, handing me a steaming cup of tea. It's been so long since I've been in the cold winter of Washington that I can't shake the chill from my bones. I smile at Esme from beneath my warm blanket on her couch and take the tea from her.

"Thanks," I say sincerely, taking a tentative sip and closing my eyes at how amazing it makes me feel. The tea isn't the only thing making me warm inside; it's Esme herself, the living embodiment of everything that is good in this world. Even with Edward gone to visit Mike's family with Eric, she and I fall into a comfortable evening together. We watch our favorite shows and easily catch up on school and life, making me wonder how I survived living in my house for as long as I did.

There are pictures on the walls and Christmas candles aglow around the apartment, making the house smell wonderful and look serenely peaceful. Esme had placed boxes of ornaments for the tree along the hallway wall, and after she handed me my tea, she smiled and walked over to one of the boxes. She brings it back with her and places it between us on the couch.

"These are my favorites," she gushes, opening the lid of the ornament organizer to show me. Staring back at me are all Edward's homemade ornaments from when he was a kid, each one marked with the year. Laughing warmly, Esme and I go through each one, admiring each detail little Edward had put into each one. Eventually, we come to the angel Edward had made in Kindergarten, and Esme sighs.

"I may have to retire this one."

She turns the angel over in her hands, and immediately I can see the years it has weathered. It's simple, made from construction paper and pipe cleaners, and a wave of nostalgia washes over me because it reminds me of my own.

"I still have mine, too," I say, vividly remembering the day we made them in school. It was the last day before winter break, the room buzzing with the upcoming holiday excitement. Unlike Edward's, mine would never grace the top of a tree. Mine would remain in a shoebox on the top shelf in my closet, untouched for the next fourteen years.

"Tomorrow, when we get the tree, we'll pick up a new angel," Esme says, squeezing my hand.

I look down at the paper angel. "What will you do with this one?"

Esme's eyes follow mine, smiling fondly at the angel. "It'll find its place," she says warmly, her eyes lifting to meet mine. "But it will always be welcomed."

And I hug her because I know we're no longer talking about angels anymore.

——-u——-

Esme has to work early tomorrow, so she disappears into her room a little after nine. Eric had picked Edward up earlier to visit with Mike's parents, leaving me with some time to myself. I stay on the couch for a little longer, snuggled comfortably in my blanket as my eyes wander around the apartment. I had been here countless times before and marveled at how something as simple as pictures hanging on the wall could show me the stark differences between his family and mine.

Christmas in my house growing up was quiet. It felt typically uneventful, as I was the one dragging the artificial tree out of the garage and hauling the decorations out of the attic. It makes me wonder what the house looks like now since I'm not there to decorate it.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and despite Edward's wishes, I get in my car and head to my former house on the hill. Just like I thought, it's dark. Completely dark. If I didn't know better, I would drive by this house on the hill and assume it was abandoned.

I open the front door, the bare walls the first thing I notice as I step inside. It's so vastly different from Edward's it brings tears to my eyes. A small light flickers from the living room, and I ignore it, taking a step down the hall to avoid whoever is here entirely.

"Are you serious coming in here like this?"

I make it a few steps before Liam finds me in the dark hallway.

"Like what?" I ask, my voice resigned and depleted. I have nothing to say to him, though I knew running into him here was a possibility. I had hoped he would be out at the bar or something to celebrate Christmas a few days early.

"You're staying with Edward?"

"How do you know?"

"Everyone talks around here, especially after Mike," Liam surprisingly has the decency to stop talking here.

"I'm just here to pick up something," I say, moving to step aside. He never scared me growing up, knowing his bark was worse than his bite. He never had it in him to take his anger physically, but I can't forget the terror he made me feel at my cousin's wedding. So when I walk around him, I feel his stare on me as I pass, my legs shaking beneath me.

"You're not taking anything from here," he growls, grabbing my arm above the elbow and pulling me towards him. "You don't live here anymore, remember?"

"Get your hands off me," I spit angrily, pulling my arm away with a force I didn't know I had. I repeat what I told him a minute ago. "I'm just here to get some of my things, and then I'm leaving."

I stalk away from him, ignoring my mother sitting on the couch as I turn in the opposite direction towards my room. All I want is a simple little shoebox on the top shelf of my closet. All I want is my angel. I want to see it out on display for once, not hidden or ignored like I had been my whole life.

Isn't that how it has always been between Edward and me? One of us falls, and the other contorts and wraps around the other, trying to lift the other to reach their best selves?

It's my turn to save Edward now. His withered and well-loved angel needs to rest and recharge. And while mine could and would never take its place, I hope him seeing my own angel will remind him I'll always be there to restore his faith in the world and himself.

God knows he needs it right now. The guilt he's carrying over Mike is unbearable at times.

I make it a few feet to my bedroom door before I hear his footsteps behind me.

They've never sounded like this before. They're rushed. Erratic, as if pushed by emotion rather than simply one foot in front of the other.

I race to close the door behind me before I have to hear one more word from my brother. I shove my shoulder into the door when I notice he has picked up speed in his haste to stop me from disappearing into my room.

But I'm not strong enough.

His blow to the door is stronger than my push, and when it hits me square in the nose, the red stain of blood dropping onto the floor between us is the moment I know nothing in this house is worth what is happening.

The look on Liam's face when Edward steps into my house an hour later is almost worth the stabbing pain from my nose.

Edward opens the front door and gently ushers me out of the house. "Get in the car."

I say nothing, several tissues over my nose and mouth to stop the bleeding, but I do as he says and nod my head. Edward stays in the house, standing in my foyer in front of the door. He watches me until I sit in the passenger seat, and then as if in slow motion, he turns away from me and focuses on something in the house behind him.

The icy glare on his face as he walks slowly towards my brother is the last thing I see before he closes the front door behind him.

The confrontation is next!

Three chapters and an epilogue left! *starts sobbing quietly*