Disclaimer: I don't own twilight...

Chapter 10

When I woke up next morning all I could think about was those green eyes and how easy it would be to just let myself go… Fortunately, we had limited time together so we didn't have the time to get to know each other. If we had, one of two things would have happened: I would either find his personality insufferable or fall madly in love with him. I wasn't sure I was ready for either of them but, as I recalled his lips covering mine, I had to wonder what if? That kind of thought was definitely dangerous.

I tried to block every conversation over breakfast about him, especially with Renée. Rosalie was very surprised with the details I gave her about our date. She thought he was just taking me to dinner in some fancy restaurant and would then attempt to drag me back to his hotel room. I had no idea why she even thought that to be remotely possible given my prior history. I was a little miffed at the idea, but she defended herself with the observation that we had some strong kind of chemistry working for us. I wasn't sure she was wrong so, once again, I decided to avoid further discussion.

The rest of the morning went by effortlessly after I was able to block any Edward-related thoughts. I busied my mind planning tonight's evening and, since I didn't own a dress as nice as the one Henry offered me, I decided I needed to buy a new one. I never felt the compulsion to shop before but, to be honest, having another nice dress was probably a good addition to my wardrobe. Also, I didn't want people to look at me and Henry and notice any sort of discrepancy between us. I hated being stared at and truthfully Henry deserved the extra attention, he was nothing but kind to me those past few days even though he barely knew me.

I called Rosalie at work for her guidance, since I didn't know where I should go and a second opinion is usually handy when it comes to clothes. She told me to meet her at work so we could sort something out after lunch.

"Good morning, I´m Isabella Swan. I believe Rosalie is waiting for me," I told the receptionist.

"Hello, Miss Swan, how are you today?" The woman in front of me said, giving me a genuine smile. "Mrs. Swan is in a meeting, but she told me to let you know she won't be long. Please follow me, I'll take you to her office," she said while standing up to show me the way to Rosalie's office.

"Excuse me if I'm being too forward but you look wonderful in this picture," she said, pointing to the massive picture hanging on the wall.

"Thank you," I answered her truthfully, although I was cursing Rosalie on the inside.

"Can I get you something?" the receptionist asked politely.

"No, thank you."

I contemplated Rosalie's view over Hyde Park and the Cathedral for a few minutes, my mind wandering to thoughts about what there was left for Henry to tell me of his story. I also reviewed my conversation with Edward the day before. It seemed quite plausible that they both had some kind of connection.

I was so deep in thought that I nearly jumped out of my skin when I realized Rosalie was standing next to me.

"It must have been one hell of a kiss," Rosalie said teasingly. I blushed like a school girl.

"It was alright, I suppose," I smirked, winking at her, "but that wasn't what I was thinking about."

I turned away from her, facing the window again. "You're very lucky Rose." And I wasn't just talking about the view.

"So where are you going tonight? You're not going out with Edward, that much I know…" She let the idea sink in for a few seconds before adding, "I should know, he called me this morning to ask if I had invited you to come to the a.m. opening party tonight."

"He knows I'm not going, I told him so yesterday." I wasn't pleased with that bit of information. Why would he think that I lied to him yesterday? It made no sense to me so I decided to ignore it.

"He invited you?" she pressed.

"Something like that but, before you even ask, I'm not going."

"Ok, so why do you need a dress for tonight?"

"I'm going to the Opera House, Rose. I told you before."

"You managed to convince Renée to accompany you to see The Creation?" She sounded amused at the thought, probably because she knew Mom all too well.

"No, I invited a friend. That said, let's get on with the Spanish inquisition, Rose."

"You don't want to tell me? Have you met anyone you're not telling me about? Who knew that Bella Swan had it in her to go out with two guys simultaneously." She started giggling lightly at her own joke. She sat on the black couch that was placed next to the window and dialed a number on her cell.

"It's not like that, I…" I began, but she cut me off, waving her hand dismissively.

I eyed her questioningly but she ignored me.

"Hello," she started, "This is Rosalie Swan… yes… is everything ready?" She paused to listen for a second before continuing. "Good, we'll meet you there in half an hour."

"Come on," she said, standing up and grabbing her purse from her office chair. "Let's get you a dress and then you have to spill it, sister."

I had no idea where she was taking me but I knew she was in no mood to be questioned so I decided to follow her silently. I waved and smiled at the receptionist who stood up to say goodbye. I was already sitting in Rosalie's car before she finally broke the awkward silence.

"Just tell me, what have you been up to? You're being awfully quiet these past few days. I know something is going on. I know you've always been reserved," she sighed," but this is unusual even for you."

"I know Rose, and I'm not keeping a secret double life or whatever…"

"Are you ashamed of him?"

"Of who?" I asked, a little confused.

"Of the guy you're going out with," she asked very matter-of-factly, and I just burst out laughing.

"What are you talking about? I'm not going out on a romantic date tonight."

She was puzzled, so I decided it would be wise to let her know what was going on, at least to a degree.

"Rose, remember when Mom was rambling about a gentleman I met on the plane?"

"The sick old man?"

"That didn't sound too good… but yes, him."

"So you're going to the concert with him tonight?"

"Yes."

And then she started laughing again.

"What's so funny?" I asked, a little irked.

"You rejected Lord Edward Cullen to go to a boring classic show with a guy old enough to be your grandfather?" And all of a sudden she was laughing again uncontrollably, no doubt shaking her head at the absurdity of the idea. "I'd love to see his face if he ever finds out about that."

"He actually knows that." That shut her up.

"Really?" she asked me, a little surprised.

"Well, sort of. He doesn't know everything and he shouldn't. It's not like I owe him any sort of explanations. We went out once," I said, sounding too much like I needed to explain myself. "Anyway, it's not like we have any sort of future prospects together. It was nice and all…" Very nice…

"Nice? You seemed more than 'nice' yesterday," she snickered.

I decided to ignore her comment.

"Yes, Rosalie, it was nice going out with him… I really needed to start building my self-confidence again and I have to prepare myself psychologically to be emotionally available… so… it was good."

"You're so full of shit. You know that, right?"

I didn't bother to answer, so I gather she took my silence as a 'yes'. After a few seconds she decided to carry on with the questionnaire she probably had already fabricated in her head. I didn't stand a chance of avoiding it anymore.

"So who's this man you're going out with?"

"His name is Henry. I met him on the airplane. He had a syncope during our flight and I offered to help him out. He's really nice Rose, and he's sick… he doesn't know anyone here so I gave him my phone number. He called me and invited me to have lunch with him and we had a wonderful time, so I decided to return the invitation."

"He's not that kind of creepy old man that chases after a young trophy wife, is he?" I sensed her concern, although she tried to pass it off as a joke.

"No, nothing like that, trust me! He treats me like the granddaughter he doesn't have."

"He has no children of his own?"

"No."

"And he's sick, like dying sick?" she asked, her tone shadowed with sorrow.

"Yes, pancreatic cancer."

I didn't want to pity Henry, I'm sure that's not the feeling he was aiming for me to have, but I did and not just because he had so little time to live. It was also because he lived an entire life deprived of real romantic love.

And so would I.

I tried to brush it off, that sorrow that was starting to crush my spirit, but it seemed hard at the time. The only solution that would ease my heart about that particular matter was for me to be there for him and make him smile for as long as humanly possible. I didn't know his story with Grandma Marie, not entirely, maybe not at all… but whatever it was, I knew that he came to me hoping for redemption. I would help him find his peace, even if it meant that I would find out more than I was prepared know.

"You always amaze me, Bella." She breathed in as if trying to control some sort of emotion. "What kind of dress do you need, then?"

"I was thinking maybe a glamorous basic black, you know? Something I could use again, if needed… I need something nice and elegant, and since I'm probably going to spend too much I should do it wisely."

"Who said anything about you spending money?" Rosalie smirked.

"I'm not following you…"

"Well, dearest sister of mine," she said after parking the car, "it happens that I work for an advertising and modeling agency, so it has its perks!"

"Where are you taking me?"

"So tonight we're having this huge party and some A list models are attending as well as some Australian celebrities, you know… the usual stuff for this sort of event. Anyway, what you don't know is that we have several special a.m. outfits for them to try on and wear tonight publicly. There are a few dresses that are a sort of a special edition, you know?" - I didn't – "so they aren't mass manufactured and you actually need to pre-order them. They are really exquisite and designed personally by Alice More, Lord Edward's sister, which make them obviously more expensive than the regular dresses of the collection. Those outfits are stored here," she said, pointing to a horrible pink building that stood, not too proudly I suspected, in the middle of Parramatta Road.

"We have a few for you to choose from and, luckily if I may say so, the most exquisite of them all is still available. You see, Tanya Denali is attending tonight as, and I quote, 'Edward's personal friend', so she didn't want to wear an unknown designer's creation, even his sister's. Always has to be better that anyone else," she huffed, "Bitch!"

"Tanya Denali is that nice?"

"She could give Hitler a run for his money… such a Nazi!"

I couldn't help but laugh at her, but I didn't miss the "Edward's personal friend" part. Well… I'd be lying if I said I was surprised that he was acquainted with that sort of woman, I'm not that naïve.

"So what is she wearing then?"

"I don't know and I don't care. Come on… let's pick up something nice for you." And with that she escorted me to the studio.

Rosalie showed me five dresses, but I ended up picking her favorite, the one meant for Tanya Denali. She wouldn't have it any other way.

"This dress was meant to be worn tonight," she told me in the most earnest voice. And the dress was beautiful, really. It was a satin one-shouldered black dress with a full tutu-style short skirt with a hem about six inches above my knee. I didn't even think about trying the other four possibilities.

"This is really short…"

"It's not that short," she assured me, "and it's not skanky! It looks lovely on you. Besides you have great abnormally long legs for your height."

I still looked unsure, so she eased my fears by saying, "Look, if it makes you feel better, Tanya is taller than you, so yeah… she'd be the one looking skanky."

"Fine." Sadly I had to admit that that actually convinced me.

"Now let's get you some shoes and I'll let you borrow one of my purses. I have one that I think is just right."

"Thanks."

We were both running a little late and a frenetic afternoon awaited for us at home. We both had to get ready for the evening. I got Mom to help me out with my make-up, finally giving her an excuse to put to use all of the cosmetics courses she took a few years back. It was our bonding moment of the day, and I was reminded how much I loved her. She actually thought I was going with Rosalie to the party until the door bell rang at 5:55 p.m. I already had both tickets for the concert inside my purse and was ready to go.

"I'll get it!" I said when I was already halfway there. When I opened the door a very smiling Mathew was standing in front of me.

"Good evening, Bella, His Grace asked me to come to pick you up. Are you ready?" He stuttered a little which made me blush.

"Yes, let me just get my jacket."

I went to my room and decided to give myself one last look over the mirror. I was pleased with my reflection. How someone could refuse to wear such a beautiful dress was beyond me. I grimaced at the absence of the necklace I usually wore every day, Henry's necklace, but Rosalie forced me to take it off, stating that it didn't complement my outfit.

"Bye Mom, bye Emmett…" I quickly closed the door behind me, leaving them staring after me in confusion. I'm sure Rosalie was going to kill me for leaving her to explain the whole situation.

I followed Mathew to the black Mercedes. I was surprised when he opened the back door for me, I wasn't used to that kind of formality and, to be honest, I wasn't very fond of it.

"Can't I ride in the front seat? I feel a little silly riding alone in the back."

"I'm not sure that His Grace would be pleased about that," Mathew looked at me with pleading eyes. Say no more…

"Let's not get you into trouble, then."

"Thank you," he smiled earnestly.

It took us a little longer than usual to get to the hotel because of the traffic. Henry was already waiting for me in the lobby.

"It's so good to see you, Bella," he said, kissing the back of my hand. "I am absurdly delighted to be able to enjoy a great classical piece in your company."

"Thank you."

"I hope you're hungry, because I believe we have a pristine meal waiting for us. I hope you don't mind if we have dinner at the hotel again, but I was afraid we'd be late to our concert if I took you where I originally planned. I hope you forgive me if I'm being too forward by saying that I'd love to take you there sometime next week, if that's alright with you."

"Absolutely, Henry, I'd love to."

"Shall we?" he said, offering me his arm.

I just smiled in response before taking it.

"You're wonderful tonight, my child. My heart dropped at the sight of you, it still has a great impact on me to look at you. You're so much like her… and so different, at the same time. She would be proud of you."

"I know," I couldn't help but feel sad at his remark. She was gone.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I didn't mean to ruin our mood."

"Henry?"

"Yes?"

"Would you tell me tonight about you and Grandma? I'd like to know more, if that's alright with you, after all, it's your story to tell. Please forgive me for going straight to the point, but I just can't help but feel that a huge part of her story is missing and it scares me that I don't know anything about it. She raised me, gave me the necklace you offered her as an heirloom, as something she wanted to be kept in the family, and yet I don't know anything about you."

"I'll tell you everything over dinner, sweetheart. Don't be surprised she didn't tell you anything, because our story isn't a happy one. Maybe she thought you were too young to be told or maybe she just wanted to bury our love in the past. I feel like I'm betraying her memory, in a way, by telling you about us. Maybe she didn't want you to know… maybe I'm being selfish, but I can't die knowing that what we had died with me. I need someone to know that what I felt was real, that I regretted all my life losing her, that I loved her and that there wasn't a single day in my life that my mind wasn't filled thinking of her, of dreams of what our life might have been like."

I could see he was struggling to hold back tears, so I squeezed his hand softly and said, "Let's have dinner."

We kept our conversation trivial over dinner. The meal was delicious, even though I had no idea what half of what I was eating was, so I really had to convince myself that I just had to trust in Henry. At some point, over dessert, I noticed the music in the background. It didn't sound like anything I'd ever heard and the woman sang in a very powerful voice in a foreign language. Although I had no idea what she was saying, I could feel the hurt in her voice.

"What are we listening to?"

"It's Portuguese Fado."

"I've never heard of it. It doesn´t sound like anything that I'm familiar with."

"It's very unique, yes. Fado, a little roughly translated, means 'fate' in Portuguese. Do you like it, Bella?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest. It's a little strange. It seems to me that the woman singing is in pain."

"Very well-observed. She is longing for her love to come back to her. This song actually has a story to it. It was written in the early sixties. Portuguese people traditionally have a great connection to the sea, so this song is about a woman that is waiting at the beach, staring at the sea daily, waiting for her husband to come back home to her. He never does, everyone tells her that he died, but she's still there, waiting, hoping."

And then it hit me why he liked this song so much.

"That's really sad."

"The lyrics are beautiful." His eyes were glistening now with unshed tears for the second time tonight.

"Do you speak Portuguese? Can you translate them?"

"I spent most of my summers in Portugal when I was young, at least until I met your grandmother," he smiled, remembering. "I own a winery there, in the Douro region."

"Never heard of it."

"Do you like Porto wine?"

"Yes."

"That's where it's made. Mine is particularly good, I'll get you a bottle, you'll love it for sure."

"Thanks. About the song, Henry?" I asked him.

"Oh yes, about the song, it's called Barco Negro which means Black Boat. I'm not sure if my translation is perfect, but it is more or less like this:

"De manhã, temendo, que me achasses feia!

In the morning, fearing that you'd find me unattractive

Acordei, tremendo, deitada n'areia

I woke up, shivering, lying in the sand

Mas logo os teus olhos disseram que não,

But soon your eyes said you didn't

E o sol penetrou no meu coração.

And the Sun shone through my heart.

Vi depois, numa rocha, uma cruz,

I saw later, in a rock, a cross

E o teu barco negro dançava na luz

And your black boat was dancing in the light

Vi teu braço acenando, entre as velas já soltas

I saw your arm waving, between the already loose sails

Dizem as velhas da praia, que não voltas:

The old women in the beach are saying that you're not coming back

São loucas! São loucas!

They're mad! They're mad!

Eu sei, meu amor,

I know, my love,

Que nem chegaste a partir,

That you didn't even get to leave,

Pois tudo, em meu redor,

Because everything, around me,

Me diz que estás sempre comigo.

Tells me that you're always with me.

No vento que lança areia nos vidros;

In the wind that throws the sand against the window glasses;

Na água que canta, no fogo mortiço;

In the singing water, in the dying fire;

No calor do leito, nos bancos vazios;

In the warmth of the bed, in the empty benches;

Dentro do meu peito, estás sempre comigo.

In my heart you're always with me."

And with the end of the song came the end of the last restraint he had. He started to cry and I held him until he managed to control his sobs.

"I always hoped that one day she'd come back to me. She never did, and I can't blame her. Not after what I'd done to her, not after asking her to live as my mistress. She told me she could never live with her conscience like that… but I'm skipping already important pieces of the story."

We were interrupted by a soft knock on the door.

"Excuse me for the interruption, Your Grace," Mathew said, entering the suite's dining room a little awkwardly. "You asked me to let you know when we were ready to go."

"I guess we're running late," Henry said, making an effort to smile that didn't reach his eyes. "We'll finish this conversation after the concert. You have my word."

I nodded in agreement. We rode in silence to the Opera House. Fortunately, the trip wasn't long. I couldn't help but notice the amount of security that escorted us, so I decided to use that to break the silence.

"Do you go everywhere this well-escorted?"

He laughed kindly. "Yes, I'm afraid I have to. A man in my position has many enemies, and money attracts unwelcome attention. We wouldn't want to make their lives easy now, would we, my dear?" he chuckled.

"I guess not."

"You'll get used to it," he said a little cryptically.

We stepped out of the car right in front of the Opera House. It was twilight. I glanced over my shoulder at the bridge, thinking that not even twenty-four hours earlier I sat up there, in candle light, with Edward. I sighed, and that didn't go unnoticed by Henry. His kind eyes met mine and the unspoken words comforted me. Somehow, he knew.

The concert was lovely and I truly forgot about everything else, nothing mattered but the lovely soprano voice singing for us. The acoustics of the room were just perfect and the architecture superb; I couldn't have hoped for better.

After the show, I walked down the stairs, holding onto Henry's arm for support. Stairs and high heels were never a safe combination for me. Some people around us stopped and stared at us, making me feel a little self-conscious. Sensing my discomfort, Henry said, "You're a beautiful woman, Bella, hanging on the arm of an old man… it's only natural that we're drawing some attention to ourselves. Don't mind them…"

"Can we take a little walk, Henry? The weather is so nice, and the reflection of the city's lights in the water is magnificent. I'd like to enjoy it for a bit longer, if that's alright with you?"

"Of course," he answered simply.

As we walked, I noticed he was getting tired, and walking sounded like the worst idea ever. I tended to forget how ill he was since he hid it so well.

"Let's sit on that bench by the water. My feet are actually starting to hurt."

We sat for a few seconds looking at the water. I heard him taking deep, unsteady breaths beside me. And suddenly he began telling me his story.

"Remember when I told you how I met Marie?" He paused. "After that horrible scene, we actually started getting along very well. She was beautiful and so full of life, I was instantly attracted to her, but for a few months we just got to know each other. We had more in common than I initially could have predicted. She was young, but somehow overly mature for her age and so intelligent… she devoured the books I gave her, read them over the week so we could discuss them by the weekend, when I could finally get home to be with her. Things just escalated from that.

"My mother started to notice that I came home more often than usual, and she started to suspect the real reason behind it. At first, she acted like she knew nothing about our relationship and I was hoping that she was actually doing so because she was sympathetic with us. But I was wrong… I was already engaged to my wife at the time I met Marie. I started avoiding my fiancée, not knowing what to do… I knew that everyone would mock me for marrying someone considered beneath me. My closest friends, those who frequented my house regularly, found out about us and, much to my dismay, they started teasing me that I was fooling around with the help while I still could before the wedding. They asked if I intended to keep concubines and that sort of nonsense. None of it is respectful for a lady to hear, so I'll skip their crude words on the subject.

"I didn't have the courage to call off the engagement, but I couldn't live without Marie, so I never told her about it. At some point, I knew that I was running out of time, I was being pressured to have the official engagement party in order to finally set a date for the wedding to take place. It got even worse because I started to make excuses to miss the Wednesday family dinner at my fiancée's house. I couldn't stand the lie anymore. I remember that I actually begged my mother to give me a couple of weeks so I could settle a few things. She obviously knew that by 'a few things' I meant Marie… I wanted to cancel everything before it could go too far, but when I got to my parents' house on that Friday, Marie was nowhere to be seen. I went to her parents' house. She was livid with me and refused to see me.

"My mother and my mother-in-law decided to arrange a surprise engagement party on that Saturday, one that your grandmother was supposed to attend to as a maid. That's how she found out about the engagement. I watched her house all night afraid that she might leave without telling me. In the morning, after her parents left, I got impatient and decided to break into her home.

"She was in her sitting in her bedroom, her hands tightly gripping a pillow. Her hair was disheveled and her eyes were swollen from crying. When she saw me there, she was silent for a while. I remember embracing her and repeating over and over again that I was sorry, so deeply sorry. She started to sob again, and I held her even more tightly than before.

"I can still feel her in my arms like that, you know?"

Another tear glistened in the dim light of the warm night. I nodded and he continued; I had yet to utter a word.

"Anyway, she asked me if what they were saying was true, and said that my mother told her everything. At that moment, with her broken heart in my hands, I knew that I owed her the truth. I confirmed that the engagement was real. When I did so, her frail body just fired up… she stood up, pulling out of my arms and looking at me like she was disgusted. All of a sudden I became the unsuitable monster that I knew I was for her. She threw me out even though I cried my eyes out begging her to listen to me, to believe me when I said that I loved her and no one else. Each time I tried to explain myself, she grew angrier and yelled at me, for the first and the last time, to leave her alone forever and never look back. 'I'm not cut out to be your mistress, Your Grace. You took away my virtue, but I will not have you take away my honor,' she told me, looking me straight in the eyes before walking away. I stood there, on my knees and with my eyes down, in the middle of her empty room, pleading to no one.

"She must have realized that I wouldn't leave because when I finally had the nerve to look up again, she was gone. Eventually I got up and forced myself to go home. It was the last time I saw her."

I still couldn't find the right words to say. The only thing I could come up with was to tell him, "I'm so sorry, Henry," while I reached out to hold his hand. He was sobbing quietly by my side.

"Don't be," he answered bitterly, "this story is far from over."

"But you said you never saw her again?" I asked, a little puzzled.

"I haven't… but I should."

The water was waving lazily in the soft summer breeze. The silence between us felt too heavy and prolonged, enhancing all the other city sounds. He was motionless, contemplating the moon for several minutes. I decided not to hurry him; it was his story to tell. When his tears were dried by the night's wind, he continued.

"I have to warn you that the next part is very crude," he paused again, breathed in to gather the courage to continue, then carried on. "I was afraid I'd lose her. I was being pressed to stay away from Marie. In one act of pure despair and selfishness I came to the unreasonable conclusion that I needed to mark her as my own. I was so torn between love and duty… and I needed to know that she was mine, body and soul. She didn't want to…" he stopped again as the horror started to kick in. I couldn't hold back the next question.

"Did you force yourself upon her?" I swallowed hard at the mere thought of this old man doing such a thing to the most wonderful person in my world. But he was once young…

"I'd never… I would never do that to her, Bella," he uttered in shock. "You must think very little of me now, maybe I deserve that, but I couldn't…"

"I'm sorry I misunderstood you. Please go on, Henry. I won't interrupt you again," I said, nearly whispering, my voice unsteady with emotion.

"I was older than she was, so I was the one that should have known better. I made her promises that I knew that I'd have trouble keeping. I told her she'd be my wife, that our love was pure and that our bodies should be united in love as our souls already were. Only the first one was lie, everything else I meant."

I looked into his eyes and saw nothing but honesty in them.

"I just needed her to the point that it was excruciating being physically away from her," he said, mostly to himself. He probably had that inner battle several times over the years and I could see that nothing soothed his conscience on the matter. He lost every time to the person whose opinion mattered the most, himself.

"After the engagement party, which was probably the second most painful night of my life, Marie avoided me, like I was the bearer of the bubonic plague. I never got to see her. She locked herself at home over the weekends I was at my family estate and I never even got another glimpse of her. One week, a little over three months after our fight, I went back home to find out that Marie's father kicked his own daughter out of his house because his unmarried daughter was pregnant."

My eyes widened and I gasped.

"My mother poisoned the image I had of Marie, stating that the rumor was that she didn't even know who the father of the child was, that many men of the village were named as possible candidates, some of them married men with prior bad reputations. I was sick at the thought of her being pregnant with another man's child. I was jealous and that blinded my reason. I thought that she would contact me if I were the father. I hated that baby, for he was the living proof of her betrayal. It took me a few weeks to calm down and to finally start thinking within reason. I thought about what she told me, that I wouldn't take away her honor, and then it made sense. She was always the most stubborn person alive and would never subject herself to being my mistress. She would never come to me for help, she was probably afraid of what I'd do to her and to our child. My marriage was only two weeks away and I decided I'd wasted enough time. I went to look out for her. Her neighbor told me she was working in some factory in London, she didn't know where. She would have been about a little over six months pregnant at the time.

"I went to look for her, but she was nowhere to be found. I started to really worry after a week without any luck in finding her. Then one day I finally found someone who knew her. It was the owner of a filthy and greasy pension in one of the poorest neighborhoods in London. I had to bribe her in order to get information. She told me that Marie went into preterm labor a couple of weeks before and that the baby didn't survive. According to her, after staying three days in the hospital, Marie came back to the pension and packed her scarce belongings over night and left without another word. I thought she was lying and went to the hospital to find out the truth."

"What happened?"

"We did have a baby girl, but she was too young to survive in the world outside her mother's womb, and died. Her little body was donated to the med school, but I retrieved it and buried her at my property outside London, where I met Marie. It was unfair to my wife to be reminded of my betrayal over the years; I knew her heart broke every time she looked at my baby's tombstone. I had it engraved with a simple inscription: Marie More, beloved daughter."

He leaned over my shoulder and cried for what seemed like hours. I gently wiped away his tears with the back of my hand, stifling my own silent sobs. My heart was shattered to pieces for my grandmother who lost a child at such a young age, and for this broken man who never got his life back together afterwards. I didn't know for whom I hurt the most. Between his sobs he gathered enough strength to say, "I didn't have any more children, my wife was infertile. It was probably for the best, or maybe it was God's punishment for what I did."

After he quieted down just a little, he started shivering profusely.

"Henry, I think we should go. You're cold."

"Yes, we should." He looked at me through tired and swollen eyes.

I helped him up, and offered him my arm for support, our roles reversed. His shadow bodyguards followed inconspicuously.

"Henry, I know you must be tired, but can I ask you one question?"

"Ask whatever you want, Bella," he told me earnestly.

"Did you know what happened to my grandmother after?"

"I found her name in a passenger list for a ship travelling to America. And that was the last time I knew anything about her. As far as I know, she never came back to England after that."

"No, she never did."

"Bella, do you think she forgave me?"

"If she hadn't, she wouldn't have given me your necklace as a token of her love." And I knew that that was the truth.

He looked at me carefully, pausing before entering the car. "Do you think you can forgive me?"

"There is nothing for me to forgive you for."

I believe he was content with my answer, because for the first time he had a glint of hope in those sad, hurting eyes.

"I feel lighter today," he said before jumping in the car.

I was having a hard time wrapping my mind around all of what he had told me. I needed to sleep on it, too much information in too little time. I could almost feel the smoke coming out of my pores, for I was burning inside with the pain my grandma must have felt.

I needed a distraction, because I didn't want to have a breakdown at the time, so I directed my thoughts elsewhere. There was a question I wanted to ask that had been haunting me for a while.

"Henry, do you know Lord Edward Cullen?"

AN:

Hello, beautiful ladies, thank you all so much for your reviews, I tried to reply to all of them and I apologize if I missed someone.

I'm really sorry about the delay in the update, but life hasn't been kind with me over the past month.

I tried to maintain this chapter as light as humanely possible and fought fiercely my dark predisposition. It was a little hard for me to write it but I guess it's time for Henry and Marie's story to be fully known. I decided to fill in the blanks with the facts, so I decided not to repeat myself and abstained from focusing too much on his sense of duty and honor towards his family.

Bella's dress and the youtube link of the song "Barco Negro" is available on my blog. You can check out the link at my profile's page.

Thank you Scooterstale for putting up with me. You're the best Beta ever!

As always, leave your reviews below. My eyes glisten like a little girl's at a candy shop when I get them!

Nofrure.