19

"What are you doing out here?"

Startled, I turned from my seat on the top step of the porch, finding my husband leaning against the doorframe that lead into the beach cottage we'd bought just a few months ago. Had it really only been a few months?

Felt like a lifetime had gone by, years of my life that I couldn't remember, but it had only been a few months. Horrible months. Terrible, painful, fearful, scary months that I'd never forget—no matter how much I wanted to.

"Isabella," Carlisle said, drawing my attention back to him.

"Couldn't sleep," I lied. Or half-lied. I hadn't been able to sleep, but I hadn't really tried, either.

He nodded and pushed off the frame and moved so that he was sitting next to me. He reached out and tangled his hand in with mine. "Hear being in a bed helps with that sleep-thing. They have a whole chapter in my medical books about it."

I forced a smile, knowing he was trying to keep the mood light.

Sighing, he shifted his attention to the water. The surf was high, the waves towering before slamming down with a roar. Seemed fitting that they were so angry seeing as today was the day we'd bury Peter. Guilt filled me as I thought about the man who'd loved me like his own. He'd given his life for me, to bring me home, to keep me from making the biggest mistake of my life, and it hadn't done a damn bit of good. Gabriel Varner had still gotten his hands on me and my life had been forever changed.

"The boys will be up soon," Carlisle said, but made no effort to stand. "Still not sure they should go today."

"They need a chance to say goodbye," I whispered, unable to keep my voice steady.

"Yeah." Carlisle released his hold on my hand and stood up. "They shouldn't have to, though."

And leaving me sitting on the porch, Carlisle turned and walked back into the house.

—TW—

I sat on the steps for another few minutes before following Carlisle into the house, knowing Tyler would freak if he woke and I wasn't inside. He'd had a meltdown just the morning before because I'd been out on the porch when he awoke, screaming and crying about me leaving him. Michael, on the other hand, hadn't cared where I was. He was still angry, something I couldn't blame him for feeling, even if it did break my heart. I'd promised that I wouldn't leave, yet that's exactly what I had done. I hated that my boys had gotten hurt. They deserved better.

Carlisle was already standing in front of the stove when I walked in. I placed my hands on his hips and leaned my forehead against the middle of his back. I felt him sigh just moments before he pulled my arms around him. Tears filled my eyes, spilling over as I held on to him. We didn't need to speak. I knew Carlisle still loved me, always would. But I also knew he was angry with me for leaving that night, for costing his father his life, and I didn't blame him. It was my fault that Peter died and I'd live with that guilt for the rest of my life.

The sound of the boys' door opening had me releasing my hold on my husband. I used the backs of my hands to wipe the tears off my face just moments before they stumbled into the kitchen.

"Mommy!" Tyler was immediately in my arms, wrapping his arms and legs around me "I missed you."

"Aw, I missed you, too, sweetheart." I smiled and looked at Michael. "Good morning, Michael."

Michael just gave me a look before sitting at the table. Hopefully one day, he'd forgive me for not being strong enough.

Carlisle plated the last of the bacon and placed it on the table next to a short stack of pancakes. I settled in the chair next to Michael, who leaned away from me. It hurt, but I understood why he was angry. Tyler shifted in my lap so that he could eat. Carlisle fixed himself a cup of coffee, before sitting across from me and Tyler. While none of us spoke, his eyes were locked on mine, the yearning he felt, the longing for me to be the same Isabella he'd fallen in love with was evident.

But I couldn't be her. Not again. My father had been stolen from me, my mother had given up on me, and a stalker had taken the only other person who saw me as their child away. I'd been abused, cursed, tossed away, and left with heart full of anger.

"You know, I've been thinking," Carlisle said, suddenly and drawing the boys' attention to him. "Christmas will be here before you know it. Maybe we should take a trip instead of getting presents."

"Wait, wait, wait," Tyler said, dropping the piece of bacon he'd been eating onto his plate. "What's this instead of? I say we do both!"

"Oh, you do, huh?" Carlisle laughed. "What about you, Michael? Do you think we should go on a trip and get presents?"

Michael shrugged his shoulders. "Where would we go?"

"I don't know," Carlisle, shifting his attention to me. "Where do you think we should go, Isabella?"

"Oh, um," I stammered. "I don't know. Maybe Disney World."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Tyler cheered and I saw Michael smile, though he dropped it when he saw me watching.

"Hmm, good idea," Carlisle said. "What do you think, Michael?"

"Grandpa said he wanted to take us to Disney World, but he can't now because he's dead." Michael gave me a look of hatred before he climbed off his chair, picked up his plate, and put it in the sink. He turned and walked out of the kitchen without another word.

"He'll come around," Carlisle murmured.

I pressed my lips against the top of Tyler's head. "If you say so."

—TW—

Three hours later, I found myself seated on the edge of mine and Carlisle's bed. My black heels were on the floor in front of me, I'd put on the same black dress I'd worn to my mother's funeral, but while Carlisle had gone welcome his brothers' to our home, I had stayed in our bedroom, still trying to get the courage to put my shoes on and go downstairs. I hadn't seen then since my return from Forks. They'd called several times, stopped by the house, but I'd already spent too many hours trying to make amends to the people I loved.

Jasper and Edward were the only ones who forgave me. Emmett, Rose, Alice, and even Esme were pissed that I'd been so selfish. They didn't understand, though. They didn't know what Gabriel Varner had been capable of. As Aro Volturi he killed an entire family, raped and tortured a mother because somehow, he thought they had a connection. He killed another couple just for their car, but the worst, at least to me, was that he killed my father just because Charlie hadn't like the way he looked at me.

"Are you coming?"

I shifted my attention from my shoes to Carlisle, who was leaning against the doorjamb of our bedroom. He had his arms crossed in front of him. Like me, he was wearing the same suit he'd worn to my mother's funeral. Three months and two dead parents. That's what we go for falling in love.

"Yes," I said, sliding my feet into my shoes. Standing, I smoothed out the front of my dress before walking to him, placing my hands on his chest. "I love you."

Carlisle covered my hands with his. "I love you, too."

He kept my hand wrapped in his as we headed down the hallway and into the living room where Marcus and Garrett sat with Kate, Michael, and Tyler. Just as he had been ever since I got home three days ago, Tyler was immediately by my side, asking me to hold him. I did, knowing that he needed the reassurance that everything was going to be okay.

Marcus was the first to speak when he stood up and said, "Hello, Bella."

"Hello," I murmured, tightening my arms around Tyler. "I'm sorry about Peter. I . . . I never meant for him to get hurt."

"We know you didn't," he insisted.

"Dad . . ." Garrett shook his head, his lips trembling. "He changed after meeting you. I don't know what you said to him, Bella, but he changed. Started trying to be a part of our lives, I guess. All he would have cared about is that you're okay." he shifted his eyes up to mine. "You are okay, aren't you?"

I opened my mouth to lie, to tell him that I was perfectly okay, but I wasn't and there wasn't any point in bullshitting him. "No."

Garrett frowned, but didn't say anything.

"Of course she's not, idiot," Kate scoffed, nudging him in the side. "But she will be."

"I will?" I asked, drawing her focus onto me.

"Yes."

"Glad you think so, because I certainly don't," I quipped, and turned to Carlisle before she could give me anymore false promises. "I'll be outside."

Carlisle nodded, but didn't try to stop me. A part of me was glad he was giving me so much space, so much time to deal with the feelings inside me, but the other side, the one that craved his touch, wanted him to take me into his arms and kiss me hard, to take my body and reaffirm his love for me.

Sighing inwardly, I carried Tyler out onto the porch, sitting on the porch swing. He settled on my lap, rattling on and on about school, his new friend Doug, how much he liked his teacher. I just held him and listened, tried to stifle the ache in my heart and fight off the fear that my little family was never going to be the same.

—TW—

Half an hour later, I was seated in the backseat of a black limousine with Carlisle, the boys, Marcus, Garrett, and Kate. Carlisle had his hand wrapped tightly in mine, though I was the one shaking, afraid of the wrath I'd find when we got to the church. The press had already bombarded us numerous times over the last few days. The patriarch of the beloved Cullen Family had been brutally murdered and his daughter-in-law kidnapped. They speculated on what I'd been through, some allegations true, while others were far-fetched. I hated that our private life had been on display, but we'd been lucky, I guess, that they hadn't gotten wind of Gabriel Varner before he whisked me away. Or maybe he wouldn't have gotten so close if they had been in our face.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Carlisle muttered as the limo crept to a stop. On either side of the small walkway into the church, the police had barricaded dozens of reporters, photographers, and spectators. "So much for respecting our privacy."

"No shit," Garrett groused as he opened the door and stepped out. Kate followed, wrapping her hand around the top of his arm.

Marcus was next and then Carlisle, who reached for Michael and Tyler first. I was last and a part of me wanted to stay in the back of the limo, keep myself out of the limelight for just a few more minutes, but Carlisle needed me, so I placed my hand on his and climbed out of the limo. Thankfully, I'd put on a pair of dark sunglasses when we left the beach cottage, or the press would have gotten pictures of the tears that had filled my eyes. I tightened my grip on Carlisle's hand as we followed Marcus, Garrett, Kate, and the boys into the church.

The pastor met us in the entry room, extending his hand to Marcus first. He stopped by the house the day before, offered his condolences to our loss. Like I had when anyone came to the cottage, I hid in our bedroom. Pastor Brown stopped in front of Carlisle, his dark eyes shifting from my husband down to me and back. He stepped backward and placed his hands together.

"Once again, I'd like to tell you how sorry I am about your loss. I've known Peter for many years and he was a wonderful man. The police have agreed to keep the press back to give you a bit more privacy."

"Thank you," Marcus said, trying to muster a smile, but failing.

"We've got about five minutes," Pastor Brown stated, gesturing to a room on the left side of the entry room. "We'll be back in a few."

I followed everyone into the room, releasing a deep breath as the door closed behind us. I slipped off my sunglasses and placed them into my purse. Nobody was speaking, not that I expected any different. We weren't here to have a good time.

After a few minutes, the door to the room opened and Pastor Brown stepped into the room. Without a word, Marcus followed him first, then Garrett and Kate, Carlisle and Michael, and last were me and Tyler, who had grabbed my hand. I couldn't imagine the heartache the boys were dealing with. The only grandparent they had left had been stolen from them. They'd never know how much he loved them.

The sanctuary was packed. Phil sat with Jessica Stanley. Next to here were Liam, Embry, and Carmen, the doctors from the medical Co-op. I was touched that they'd shown up to show Carlisle their support.

Edward and Jasper sat next to Alice, Esme, Emmett, and Rose. None of them would look at me, and I didn't blame them. I'd disappointed them by not being strong enough. Sasha and Eleazar were on the other side of Edward and Jasper. My heart ached for them, as well. Peter had been Sasha's connection to her sister. Tears flooded my eyes as we took our seats, Tyler sitting on my lap while Michael was in Carlisle's.

"Peter Cullen was a loved man. Revered and highly respected. His family—"

A loud commotion echoed throughout the sanctuary just moments before a man carrying a large camera ran into the room. He slid to a stop in front of me, the click of his camera echoing against the silence.

"Isabella, do you feel responsible for the death of Peter Cullen?" the photographer asked. I turned from him, bringing my arms up as I tried to scoot out of the pew and leave, but felt my heart drop when the man said, "Is it true that the man who kidnapped you, started the fire that killed your mother?"