AN: I want to thank everyone who has left kind words for me! I am so grateful for all of you that have shared your responses with me…it's the most pleasant thing to come home to after 8 hours with ten toddlers. :) You guys are great.

Oh, and I lied about the no-plot thing. I think we might have one now. Hooray!

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Little more than an hour passed before I heard my door creak open. I looked up from the book I was reading, rolling my eyes. "Ever heard of knocking?" But instead of Charlie like I had been expecting, it was Edward that stepped into the room, looking rather sheepish.

Without a word, he sat to face me on the bed, taking the book out of my hands and pressing his lips to my jaw, dragging them to a sensitive spot beneath my earlobe where his tongue darted out to taste my skin. All I could do was gasp and cling to him in response, my hands fisting in his clean t-shirt.

Without lifting his face from my neck, he began to apologize. "I'm sorry for shouting at you. I'm sure by now I don't have to explain that my anger was directed entirely at myself. It wasn't fair of me to – "

I tugged gently on his hair to bring us face to face, pressing my thumb against the seam of his lips, though he had already fallen silent. "Don't go taking all the credit, now. I was doing more than my share of provocation."

"Still," he muttered, pushing a bundle of soft cotton into my hands. "A peace offering," he explained. I held it up, smiling widely as I realized it was a t-shirt, one he had bought at a Beatles concert in the 60's, which I had frequently drooled over. I instinctively brought it to my nose and inhaled, delighted to find that he hadn't washed it.

"Thanks."

He glanced at my stereo, which I had tuned to the hip-hop station, then turned back to look at me, quirking an incredulous eyebrow. "What's with the gangster rap, Bella?"

I had forgotten it was on. I shrugged, grinning innocently. "It's my angry music."

"Ah," he responded, reaching over to turn it off. "Are you done being angry?"

"Yep," I assured him, pulling my sweatshirt over my head and replacing it with my peace offering/priceless collector's item/new t-shirt.

"It suits you," Edward commented, freeing my hair from the collar and smiling. There was a moment of silence in which we watched each other, his eyes drawing me in like a moth to the flame.

"Let's go somewhere," he said suddenly, tugging my hand until I stood up.

"Where?"

"I don't know. I hear it rains a lot in London. Or Nepal! They have monsoons."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Funny."

He sighed, curling a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "I wish we were free," he muttered, his voice so low that I could barely make out the words. I had a feeling he had not even meant to say it aloud.

I hadn't the heart to point out that he had the power to make us free. Besides, I had promised him I was done being angry, and picking a fight was plainly in violation of that promise. "How about the movies? It's dark in there."

Edward gestured forlornly to the sunshine streaming cheerfully through the window. "I might cause a scene actually getting into the theater, though."

"We could go back to your place and shoot some pool," I suggested. I enjoyed spending time at the Cullen mansion. There was something about it that sometimes made me feel more at home there than I did at Charlie's place.

Edward shook his head. "It makes me nervous, being in an empty house with you."

"Don't be stupid, Edward."

He paused for a moment, so as not to make it look like he was giving in too easily. Then he conceded with a nod, throwing an arm over my shoulders as we left my room.

The Cullen home was silent when we arrived. I followed Edward into the finished basement, where the pool table was. Though I had been in this house several times, I found myself frequently amazed at how remarkably human it was. With an expensive-looking entertainment center, pinball machines, a pool table and a well-stocked wet bar, the basement was typical of any nouveau riche American family.

"Okay. I'm ready to get my butt kicked big-time," I told Edward with resignation as he handed me a freshly chalked pool cue.

"Then I'm ready to do some kicking," he replied merrily, retrieving the balls and dropping them into the triangle. "I call stripes."

The game went quickly, as was to be expected with Edward as an opponent. The afternoon passed without incident, as if Edward and I were just two love-struck smalltown kids with nothing better to do. Which we were, in point of fact; though to be fair, the term "kids" only applied to one of us.

"So where are the rest of the Cullens on this fine afternoon?" I inquired casually, as Edward's eighteenth consecutive bulls-eye ended our second game of darts.

He swaggered over to pluck the darts off the board, clearly intending to do some more showing off. "Let's see. Carlisle is at the hospital. Esme, Alice, and Jasper are on a social outing with friends – "

"Vampire friends?" I interrupted, always curious about the vampire community.

"Have you ever known Jasper to befriend people with heartbeats? But yes, they are meeting with some old vampire friends of theirs who have expressed an interest in our lifestyle."

"Rosalie and Emmett?" I prodded, sighing hopelessy at the dart I had just planted into the drywall, at least six inches shy of the board.

Edward's face became grim, and he went to yank my deviant dart out of the wall before answering. "Rosalie left us. We don't know if she means it to be permanent or not; she didn't even tell Emmett. It was last week, I believe, and she simply didn't come home. Emmett is out looking for her."

My brow furrowed. "This happened last week? Why didn't you tell me?"

He shook his head and threw another dart dead-center. And I understood.

"She left because of me. That's why you didn't tell me, right?" I scowled and dropped onto one of the leather couches, my arms folded angrily. "What is her problem? I try to stay out of her way. I don't - "

"Bella, you musn't take it personally," Edward interrupted, trying to kill my rant before I built up any momentum. "It's me that she's mad at."

I could see that Edward knew exactly what Rosalie's problem with me was, but he simply didn't wish to go into it with me.

"What did you do?" I prodded, anxious to learn the source of Rosalie's hateful treatment. I didn't cope well when people despised me for no reason.

"I fell in love with you," he said simply. "You see, Rosalie stakes much of her self-worth on being the most beautiful. Satisfaction, to her, is being able look around a room and see that she is, without a doubt, the most stunning woman there."

"A 'mirror, mirror' complex?" I suggested with a small smile.

"That's a good way to put it. Luckily for us, Rosalie has never been supplanted as the Fairest One of All. But it eats at her, that I chose you to love. You remember me telling you that she was originally intended for me?"

I nodded, trying to understand what that had to do with Rosalie hating me. After all, Edward himself had said that their relationship had always been strictly platonic.

"It didn't bother her then, that I was not attracted to her, because at the time I was not attracted to anyone. But then you came, and I had feelings for you that she had never been able to rouse in me. It infuriates her that a human would be able to outdo her at anything. Like I said, it isn't personal."

I mulled over this for a moment, chewing on my lip. It made sense, I figured. But an explanation didn't make it any easier to be hated by a member of Edward's family.

"I still don't understand why she left."

Edward shrugged, putting the darts away and coming to sit beside me. "It's become sort of a power struggle, now. At first, I got the silent treatment from her. Then she demanded that I get rid of you, or she would leave Forks altogether. When I didn't respond to the threat, she involved Carlisle, insisting that it would have to be me or her. But Carlisle would never blatantly cast out one of his flock, so she translated that as him choosing me over her. She doesn't like to give in. She would never admit being wrong. Emmet even calls her 'the Bulldog' behind her back."

I shook my head, guilt pulling at me. "I'm really sorry, Edward. I hate to think I –"

"Stop it, Bella. This is Rosalie's fault. You have nothing to do with it, understand?" Edward insisted, pressing his mouth to the back of my hand. I nodded, though I still felt immense responsibility. After all, not even Edward could argue that life would have been much simpler for the Cullens if I had never come to Forks.