The update you've all been waiting for!

Once again I am incredibly sorry for the time between updates. This chapter was the most difficult for me to re-write. Before my hard drive corrupted, this was my favourite chapter. Trying to re-write it when I was so happy with the original was extremely difficult. I was constantly worrying it wasn't as good as the first version. Either way, here it is now. Please review - let me know what you think...

Edward offered me his hand, using that time to analyse me for signs of deceit, but I felt nothing but honest relief at impeding freedom. Once vertical, I dusted my jeans free of loose soil. I couldn't do much about the mud stains now gracing my hip. He turned and began walking away, glancing over his shoulder expectantly, trusting that I'd follow him.

I pivoted to Jake. "Come find me later," I told him.

At the brisk nod of his furry head, I gave Edward my trust and followed him. His pace started slow, doubting that I would follow, but once reassured by my unfaltering footsteps, he sped up, leading me the way we came.

As we continued in the direction of the Cullen house, I couldn't ignore the sweeping sense of betrayal that grew in the pit of my stomach; my distrust paving the way to calling Edward a liar and criticising myself for misplacing my trust.

No, I chastised. For once, I had to believe that Edward wouldn't go back on his word, that this hadn't been a lie that was leading me into a Cullen ambush. But the closer we came to the property, the more my ire grew. Why was I telling myself to trust him? He was leading me back to the house, I knew he was - this path was still heavy with our scents. The niggle in my brain that had told me this would happen was suddenly shouting at me to have listened in the first place. Shame burned my face at my naivety.

I was readying myself to stop following him and circle back to pack lands until, at the last second, just at the edge of the Cullens' property, he veered north, leading us away from the house. Shame continued to lick my cheeks but now for a completely different reason. Since Bella had gone, since I'd woken up in fact, Edward had given me no reason to not trust him.

It was only at this point that I realised he would have heard my entire thought process. Still, he remained silent as he led me towards this unknown destination.

My hope renewed as we lept over the creek. The excited rhythm of my heart was a clear sign that my anticipation was growing. Our pace suddenly slowed until we were at a steady human pace. This part of the woods was denser, the untamed undergrowth having grown more chaotic. The fallen leaves of autumn which decorated the space between the protruding roots of the trees crunched beneath our footsteps. The winter had left most of the trees naked, but their sheer size of them was enough to dampen the daylight. Edward moved fern leaves and nettles out of our way as he navigated our path forward. Stepping over the uneven terrain had me wondering where he was taking me. I looked at my feet as I noticed the texture beneath my shoes changed from lumpy to cushioned, indicating how unused this path was. This was definitely going to give me the privacy I craved. Hopefully.

I was still looking at the floor when the surface changed again, this time to a neat cluster of flat stones. It was the beginning of a path. The bracken disappeared and I stepped unexpectedly into an open space, gasping as I took in the small but perfectly circular clearing suddenly before us in the forest.

Although I could recognise the entire picture of perfection, my focus lay on the tiny stone cottage nestled in the centre. It seemed to appear through the flora as if it were a natural formation - its base completely obscured by a plethora of wild grass, periwinkle and some other kind of white flower that prospered in the winter. Ivy that was an autumnal mix of greens and reds erratically climbed the walls of the one-storey house, fanning across the walls like a spider's web. White honeysuckle beautifully disrupted the colours that dominated the shrubbery, like snowflakes on a fir tree. A blooming climbing rose dominated the left side of the wall, framing the deep set, paned window. The large, rectangular stones that created the structure was a kaleidoscope of greys and natural lilacs that lay perfectly beneath charcoal shingles. Dead centre, and miraculously unobscured, was an arched, wooden door painted a white that had weathered with time. As if by magic, a ray of light pierced the circle and lit the cottage in a halo. The draping trees framed the canvas perfectly.

"Wow," I breathed. I couldn't stop the wonder audibly leaving my body. It was beautiful - breathtaking.

Edward chuckled at my reaction, breaking me from the spell.

"Who lives here?" I asked, awe still clouding my voice.

"No one," he responded.

"But it looks…" I let my voice trail off as I struggled to finish my thought aloud.

"You haven't seen the inside yet," he warned. His tone changed as he offered an explanation: "We - well, Esme - began renovating it before we decided to leave unexpectedly. The structure was completed and miraculously still looks in great condition despite the abandonment."

Leave unexpectedly. I knew what that meant. I wondered if Bella had ever seen this place; she'd have loved it, it being a real life embodiment of one of her beloved classic romance novels.

A barely audible sigh had me looking over at Edward, but his gaze was now on the cottage. The slump of his shoulders bothered me. "Why hasn't she started up again now you're back?"

"It's original purpose no longer applies." His tone was shadowed in grief; not like it was when we'd first arrived here. His hand hovered by his head, clearly wanting to invade his hair. Instead, he dug his hands deep into the pockets of his pants.

Something about the way he was acting made me want to keep the mood light. "Maybe she could restart again. Having a project might help keep her busy." And distracted.

A smirk broke through his torment. "Distracted enough to leave you alone?"

"Distracted from worrying," I clarified, my cheeks flaming as much as they could. If my thoughts hadn't given me away, my face certainly did.

He didn't believe me and my lousy attempt at a save was just that - lousy. But he didn't tease. He headed up the path and I followed. His hand disappeared into a thick section of the ivy and reappeared with a key between his fingers. He swiftly unlocked the door, pushed it open—it fell back with a barely audible creak—and stepped through into the centre of a stone living room.

The windows and open door allowed for natural light to filter into the room. The floor was a crazy quilt of smooth, flat stones, sheathed in a small layer of dust. The wall directly in front of us was broken up by an archway corridor. A rectangular fireplace set into the stone protruded from the left hand wall, the thick wooden mantle matched the long exposed beams that decorated the ceiling. A solitary object sat in front of the fireplace, covered by an old dust sheet. It was the only object in the otherwise empty room, unless the broken shelves on the wall to the right counted as furniture.

"I told you it wasn't much," Edward remarked; his hand stroking the back of his neck nervously.

"No," I reassured him, "it just needs a clean. It has so much potential, I can see why Esme wanted to convert it."

I fully believed what I said. There was something about the natural beauty of this place which would make it a wonderful home. It felt like it didn't belong in Forks. Just being in this room, you could be anywhere in the world.

He led the way as we stepped under the low beamed archway. The narrow corridor was a stone mosaic broken up by two mirroring doorways. The one to the right held a modest bathroom which looked relatively clean despite its apparent disuse. The one to the left was the bedroom. A gossamer canopy with a vintage, white bed frame sat neatly between two lead paned windows. The setting sunlight basked the room in a muted orange glow.

"The bed has never been used so it should be comfortable enough for you."

I nodded because I couldn't find the words. I was in such a bewilderment, not only at this place, but that I could stay here, and hopefully it wouldn't cause a problem. My thoughts led on to the Cullens. I didn't want to be a nuisance but I also knew what I needed. Whilst I felt proud of myself for expressing that, there would always be that underlying part of me that didn't want to disappoint anyone. Especially when they were giving up so much for my protection.

"They won't mind," Edward promised. "This is the best solution, and if it weren't, Alice would have already told us."

He moved around me and continued up the corridor. When he stepped through into the final room, he turned to look at my expression. The hallway opened up into what I would imagine was once a quaint, kitchen/diner. The pale yellow paint flaked off of the cabinets and some of the cupboard doors were hanging off their hinges. It was the room that needed the most work, but past the derelict appearance I saw so much potential for beauty.

Unlike the other rooms, I didn't spend my time looking at the details, because the sight through the large casement windows caught my attention. I subconsciously walked forward to peer out into the overgrown garden, wrapped in the protective circle of the surrounding trees. Wildflowers bloomed in a sporadic picture of green, purple and white. Just from looking I knew that in summer some yellow would also make up the picture. I knew, because I'd seen this place before. At least, I'd seen a bigger version just outside of Forks.

"You've been there?" Edward's voice was so quiet, it took me a second to register what he'd said.

"Where? Oh! You mean Mom's meadow?" I knew the picture was clear in my mind, especially now I kept thinking about the times we'd been there together.

"You know it?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he responded in the same wistful tone.

The meadow always brought an element of peace to my mother. Once I noticed how it affected her demeanor, I used any excuse I could for her to take me there. The best excuse was for me to sketch it. She could never refuse that. I itched to draw this miniature one too. The entire house in fact. The house had stood unfinished for ten years, but nature had thrived and it added to the character. I loved the house for its entire character, but Bella would love it for the garden alone.

"I asked her to leave the garden for that purpose." Edward was looking out into the garden. "Alice wanted to add extra rooms, Emmett even wanted an extra storey but, like you, Esme knew the originality would be loved more. She wanted to landscape the back just like the front but I asked her not to for the same reason."

"Because of my mom?" I dared to ask.

"I knew she'd like this place." He turned so he was now looking back into the depths of the cottage. "All I could see was her in these rooms."

Understanding hit me like a giant slap in the face. They were renovating it for Bella.

"For us," he corrected.

A house. For them. He was building a home for them.

Edward broke out of his stupor and turned to me with a smile on his face but not in his eyes. "Come on," he encouraged, "we've got work to do if we're going to make it liveable."

I took in the disparity of the kitchen, noting the wreckage and frowning at the handy work it would need.

"We?" All I needed was a bed and running water and both those elements already existed here.

Edward snorted, "Don't think you're getting out of the housework."

I snorted in return, watching as he walked back up the corridor and bolted through the front door, leaving me alone to my thoughts. I had a feeling he was purposely giving me the privacy to try and navigate the sudden whirring in my head.

Edward, and the rest of the family, had been building a home for my mom with the intention of her and him living here, together. It was chosen with her in mind and the ideas they had for the renovation were selected with her in mind, too. Like he said, I could see her in these rooms. I found myself imagining how she would have reacted upon seeing it and knowing it was her and their future.

But they didn't have a future. He'd left. He left because he didn't love her - that's what I'd been led to believe. It's what Bella believed. Except this, here, wasn't something done without love.

As I decompressed, I absentmindedly walked up the hallway, my hands skimming the wall. I took myself over to the fireplace, running my hand on the mantel as I established that there was more to the story than what I had initially realised.

A shadow danced across the doorway and Edward's deliberate footsteps came back inside. He smiled at me and positioned two brooms against the doorframe. He walked to the covered object between us and swiftly dashed the dust sheet upwards sending a delicate cloud of dust particles into the air. As they swirled to the ground, some caught in the back of my throat, causing me to cough.

"Sorry," Edward apologised sheepishly.

I simultaneously waved him off and waved the dust away from my face, watching as the small specks landed on what had been revealed: a vintage, leather, Chesterfield sofa, dark red in colour, complete with its cast iron feet and deep buttoned tufting. It sat regally in the space but did nothing but warm the interior.

Esme walking through the front door interrupted my gaze. She offered me a bright smile as she passed. Her arms were laden with bed linen and blankets. Edward held a broom out to me. I took it and turned away from him, setting to work.

We cleaned in comfortable silence, working together at a quick pace. By the time we had the place spruced up, the winter sun had set and candles had been lit. Edward had just lit the fire when a yawn escaped me unexpectedly.

He smirked knowingly. "I think that's enough for tonight. Why don't you get to bed?"

Politeness encouraged me to reject the offer, but my heavy eyelids won and I nodded, leaving him with a mumbled goodnight.

The dim light that streamed from the fire provided just enough light to see with my enhanced eyesight that the bed was now made up with full pillows and a thick quilt. Esme had chosen pure white linen and draped a fluffy grey blanket across the foot of the bed. A pair of my pyjamas were folded on the pillows and I sent a mental thank you to Esme for thinking ahead. Aside from that initial drop off, Edward and I hadn't been disturbed and for the first time since I'd been left under their protection I felt respected.

I stripped down and changed at a rapid speed, leaving my clothes in a heap on the floor. I crawled into bed and the day's tension left me with a contented sigh. It didn't take me long to fall asleep.

-o0o-

I awoke to the lullaby of the forest - rustling leaves and whistling winds. The cold light of dawn peaked through the window, casting a blue stream of light through the room and creating a circle of light by the side of the bed. The plush bed was comfy and I let out a large yawn as I rolled onto my back and stretched. I would have happily let myself doze longer had the need to have a human moment not arisen. With a despondent sigh, I lifted my head from the pillows and climbed from beneath my warm cocoon. Still recovering from the haze of sleep, it took me a moment to recognise that the winged-back armchair in the corner of the room had not been there last night. A pile of clothes lay on top, and the clothes I'd left on the floor were no longer there.

Opening the bedroom door, I glanced down the hallway but couldn't see anyone. I dashed across to the bathroom and relieved myself. I was certain that the new gleam of the ceramic was not a result of the light. The bathroom essentials which were missing yesterday had also been added: hand soap, toilet paper and a pile of thick white tiles were stacked on the countertop. My own, personal toiletry bag sat by the bathtub. Seeing as it was all here, I figured I should start the day and get dressed.

To say the house was old, the plumbing was sound - or was that another kink they'd worked on as I slept?

After I'd brushed my teeth, I wondered how far away my 'protectors' were. I then heard a deliberate clang coming from the kitchen.

I tiptoed back across the hall in my towel and beelined for the clothes someone had set out for me. I put them on: my regular pair of jeans, my favourite, striped purple top and a black turtle-neck to go underneath. As I was putting on the socks that had been provided for me, I realised no shoes were anywhere in the room.

"Check the living room," Edward called from the kitchen. I wasn't surprised he'd still be here.

My sneakers were by the side of the couch. A new fire hissed and flared from the fireplace, then a different hissing echoed down the hallway from the kitchen. I sat on the couch and tied my shoes, taking my time as I pondered what I'd be doing today. Was my time in this place limited to evenings or did I have free reign? Exactly how was this providing me with protection?

I shook away the thoughts. He promised it would be different.

Edward stopped whatever he was doing in the kitchen and I took that as my cue to show myself. As I walked in, he'd just finished plating up two fried eggs on toast. He smiled at me, the full plate in his hand - an odd depiction of domesticity.

His smile slipped somewhat and I found his awkwardness endearing. Our ability to share thoughts was causing unnecessary worry which, upon reflection, was rather amusing.

"Take a seat," he offered, breaking us both out of whatever paradox we'd gotten lost in.

To my surprise, a wooden table now sat under the right hand window with its matching chairs. A glass vase filled with wildflowers from the garden rested in the centre, pushed up to the wall. The table had been set for one and given that he didn't eat I assumed it was for me.

He laid the plate in front of me, the steam of the food rising and smelling oh so good. At speed, he set salt and pepper pots in front of me then brought some orange juice over, pouring it into the empty glass.

"You don't have to do all of this, you know?" He really didn't. I could take care of myself just fine. For once, that wasn't me saying it out of hostility.

"I know I don't have to," he appeased, "but I want to." Because he'd never had the chance before now.

The scathing retort I would have once snarked back never appeared. When I noticed I had no inclination to remind him whose fault his absence in my life was, I realised that something about my attitude towards him had changed.

"Thank you," I mumbled, once again aware that he was probably hearing every direction my mind took.

I began to eat. Edward sat down on the opposite side. He picked up a newspaper that was sitting on the chair and placed it on the table, watching me instead. It didn't feel intrusive but I also didn't want to return it. I knew that as soon as I did I'd no longer be able to contain the questions on the tip of my tongue. So instead, I looked around, focusing on the restored cabinets and wondering again how much work had been done as I'd slept. I did this until my plate was clean.

Edward was now reading the newspaper and I used his distraction to simply watch him as I sipped my orange juice.

For me, the silence felt like it was growing awkward - a elephant slowly growing on the table between us and I wasn't sure how to combat it. My train of thought kept redirecting me to the same thing no matter how many times I tried to derail it. I was worried that it would somehow break whatever this was that Edward and I had developed.

Somewhere along the way, Edward had learned that no good came from making Bella our topic of conversation; I became protective and hostile and aggressive. In relation to the Cullens, all I could think about was how they'd hurt her, and Edward's guilt would make attack because he was not a victim. Expect the more time I'd spent with him, the more I was dumbfounded by the pain that he fought to hide. The truth of his expressions didn't match what I'd come to know as the truth. Now, there was a house in the story; a ginormous, solid, real indication that he'd been planning a future with her.

I bit my tongue and instead forced myself to focus on the taste of the freshly squeezed juice, ignoring the burning curiosity of which the flames were licking away at me.

"You can ask me questions, you know."

This statement forced the elastic band of my mind to snap.

Even if they're about my mom?

His jaw clenched but he acquiesced with a quick jerk of his head.

I placed my glass on the table.

"Did you love her?" I was too wired to be polite.

"Yes." There was no hesitation. He folded his paper and set it aside, then rested his forearms on the tables, clasping his hands together, preparing for the inquisition he figured was coming.

"Do you still love her?" I asked more carefully.

His abruptness fell away too. "Very much so."

His declaration was like a mento dropping into coke - the myriad of questions I had spluttered and overwhelmed my mind. At that moment I couldn't communicate verbally, so I did what felt most comfortable to me - I touched his hand. The desperation was evident as my hand pushed against his with more force than necessary, everything I knew from Bella and everything I wanted to ask was jumping around like a possessed bouncing ball. He could feel it too. He quickly twisted his wrist so he could hold my hand.

My touch was unnecessary - we both knew that - but since Bella left he'd tried to be respectful and allow me to verbalise everything regardless of my thoughts. Now… Now I needed this kind of communication. The kind we both understood.

"It was all a lie, Nessie, a terrible lie," he choked.

He felt my reaction before even I could process it. "No, no, not about loving her. I lied when I told her I didn't want her. I wanted her, I loved her, more than my own life."

The dread rose and encased my heart. He was talking in the past tense.

He squeezed my hand, signalling he was still following my train of thought. "You know that as a species vampires are not capricious. But I'd put her in danger - far too many times - and the last instance was at the hands of the best of us." Her birthday? The slightest nod was the only indication he'd heard me for he continued without pause. "Our very nature - our very existence - was always going to hurt her and that night I realised how selfish I was being, all because I wanted her so much… I'd never hated myself more."

He was silent for a fraction of a second as he allowed his memories to follow his words. "I had to protect her. I had no choice. At the time, I believed the only way to do that was to leave. Not just me, but all of us, as if we never existed." He scoffed, "look how well that turned out."

The skill in which he caught and deciphered my questions in the fracas that was my mind was rather miraculous. Before I'd had a chance to properly ask why he'd lied, he was answering the question:

"It was the only way. I could see she wasn't ready to accept my excuse to leave without her so I said the one thing I knew would make her stay. I forced her to question her faith in me." He looked broken. "I made a mistake."

"Didn't you consider her feelings at all?" My voice was barely above a whisper.

He swallowed. "She deserved a life outside of this world, a chance to go to college, get married, have children, grow old with someone... I believed that her fickleness would allow her to move on and forget about me in time."

"You underestimated her love," I argued, not intending to sound so scornful.

"That I did."

I pulled my hand away from his and he didn't stop me. I sat back in my chair, placing my hands on my lap under the table, downcasting my eyes as I processed his words. From what I'd learned about Edward Cullen, I fully believed that he was being completely honest with me. I did not agree with his choices, nor how he'd accomplished it, but I had faith that his intentions had been to protect my mother. He'd suffered just as much as a result.

And that was the crux of the problem. Bella had suffered too. Despite hearing the other side of the story, Bella's pain was not something I could forget. She carried it with her for ten years: she believed she was unwanted, she believed she wasn't good enough and she felt used. I watched as it would tear her apart. As a family, we walked on eggshells, her heart never fully healed. My mom was my best friend - her pain was my pain. Remembering how she spoke of her past, the crack in her voice, the void in her eyes, was all it took to feel the pressure between my eyes at the sting of tears. I loved my mother for who and what she was, but I was also aware that there was a part of her that was missing as a result of her history. The same events that hurt Edward had hurt her tenfold. Because of that, I realised that Edward's explanation didn't change things… yet. Bella needed to be the one on this side of the table instead of me.

I think he could decipher my conclusion for himself, but for the benefit of us both I spoke it out loud, despondently certain: "I'm not ready to forgive you."

He nodded. "I understand."

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