Thank you, BeLynda Smith (SarcasticBimbo) for being so amazing in catching my mistakes. You're awesome.

I'm not sure what happened. I sat down yesterday to write for a few hours and completed an entire chapter. Surprise! This is one of the shorter ones.

Disclaimer: I own nothing that is Twilight related. All rights belong to Stephenie Meyer.

From my safe distance several feet away, I hovered and watched his face; it was oddly beautiful with the setting sun behind him, the dust motes surrounding him. The light shining through the window cast an ethereal glow around his head, lightening his reddish hair and outlining his features, making him look like an angel - far different from the man I'd seen two nights ago, when evil was etched in every feature.

He wouldn't hurt me. I knew he wouldn't hurt me.

"Bella, would you come in, please?" When it came to his father, I wasn't so sure.

Carlisle ushered me into his office, where Edward sat on the small, brown leather loveseat that was pushed against the wall right beside the opened door. He glanced at me once, seeming to scan my face and the way I walked to make sure I was fine, and then he looked away again. I tried to not let it bother me and switched my focus to Carlisle's office instead.

It looked like a junk shop. Every surface of the dark room was covered in something: multiple bookshelves that were crammed full of books, artwork and tchotchkes. There were delicate things scattered amongst the shelves: jewelry, perfume bottles, handkerchiefs, along with bulky items: a wooden carving of an Indian chief, several pipes and hats. Every surface was covered, every wall plastered in art.

Below a large pile of books that were so heavy they threatened to break the piece of wood that held them, were items that were set apart, displayed as though important, as they were the only things in the packed room that were given space of their own. A teapot that was cracked, but still lovely sat beside an old doll, a baseball that was nearly threadbare beside a teddy bear with stuffing coming out of one missing ear, an army soldier, a silver brooch pinned to a piece of velvet that was propped up against the bookshelf wall, a tarnished silver baby cup etched with an M, and a shoe box from an upscale department store. It was random, perplexing nonsense, as none of it seemed indicative of the powerful man who owned it all.

I sat down beside Edward and my hands fell to my sides, palms pressed against the cool leather. Edward did the same, our fingers nearly touching, a few millimeters of space between them. Whether his gesture was kindness or just coincidence, I didn't know, but Carlisle's eyes followed the movement, and I jerked my hands away, holding them instead in my lap. I immediately regretted the action. It made me look guilty, as if I was doing something wrong for wanting contact with a friend. I also regretted that my action had caused me to miss the potential comfort of his touch.

I was on edge, every nerve a live wire, as Carlisle opened a briefcase that sat on the desk beside him. He held up a very small stack of papers that gleamed under the light of the lamp close to him. They had a sheen to them as though they were coated in some sort of plastic. I watched him as he gestured with them as he spoke, trying to comprehend why they looked so odd.

"In this family, there are rules, and they must be followed. If members of our household don't follow the rules, then there is chaos and everything that I've worked for for so long can fall apart. Do you understand?"

I stared at him, slightly annoyed at being spoken to as if I were a child and wondering how a man with a room full of nonsense could lecture anyone about chaos. Just being in the room made me extremely uneasy. Though they were just objects – things – something about them – about his voice and the way he managed to speak so calmly and with such malice at the same time – made the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

I suddenly realized that it was tape that covered the papers he was waving around, and wondered why on earth someone would use that much scotch tape on a sheet of paper.

"There are repercussions for broken rules. If you break them, you've lost my trust. I can't let that happen, especially when it's done right under my nose."

In a single moment of horror, I realized what he held.

My bank files.

The files that Edward had given me: his money, my future. Carlisle held my future in his hands as he looked at me with clear blue eyes that saw straight through me, eyes that missed nothing. I'd thrown them away, I'd destroyed them very meticulously with scissors and shoved them in the bottom of my trash can along with my other mistakes from the week.

He'd found them anyway.

My eyes dropped to the floor, my head inclined slightly toward Edward as I whispered, "I'm sorry."

"At least Bella has the decency to show some genuine remorse," he said to Edward as he held up the papers that, a week ago when they'd been given to me, had represented all of my hopes and dreams, and were now reduced to the simple materials that they were: paper and scotch tape and black ink. I could feel it all being snatched away and I recoiled as though I'd been punched in the gut. It was difficult to breathe.

Forks, trees, ocean air, life, breath, freedom, hope, were all snatched away in that one heartbeat and there was nothing that I could do to stop it. There was nothing I could do to get it back. It had felt the same way when Charlie had been taken from me. That brief moment of happiness I'd had with him was suddenly gone and I couldn't do anything - I couldn't say anything. I simply sat cowering, just as I'd done before, as everything was taken away.

My head throbbed painfully and images flashed behind my eyes once more: a chalkboard, jumbled numbers, red splashed all over a hardwood floor.

I heard Carlisle speaking as though inside a fishbowl. None of his words made any sense, and my head continued to pound, a continuous pulse of pain and pressure, most likely a result of my body still healing from injury and stress.

"This is extremely disappointing," Carlisle said. "You of all people, Edward, know what I've had to sacrifice to keep this family safe, to keep us alive."

Edward seemed to ignore him, his gaze fixed on a spot on the floor, his expression pensive.

Carlisle laughed bitterly, a mix between frustration and sorrow. "Fine, don't say anything. When you're in my position, you'll see that all I've done is for your well-being. For Esme's, for Mary Alice's, for this entire family."

His words sounded empty and hollow and echoed through my head, nothing sticking. I didn't care about his sacrifices. All I could focus on were those damned papers in remorse and heartbreak. I should have left the file where it was. I'd made things difficult for not just myself, but also for Edward. I was such a stupid, stupid girl.

I looked over at the shelf once again, wishing I could tune him out, wishing I could go hide somewhere so that I could sob and wail and beat something. Through my blurry, tear-filled vision, I saw the teapot, the baseball, the army man, the teddy bear, the cup, and the shoe box and I could no longer bring air into my lungs.

The shoe box. It was mine.

It had come from a ritzy department store that Edward had taken me to before one of our false dates, and it had held the money I'd been so carefully hiding away.

I looked around the room once more, at artwork and mismatched books, small statues, jewelry, and wine glasses, and tea cups, and figurines, and I spotted a gray flannel hat, and realized what it all was: Carlisle's twisted version of a trophy room. The one shelf that held such random, precious things to have their own space must belong to his family. And the other things, were they items that had belonged to people he crossed paths with? Were they representing people he knew, or loved, or people he'd killed?

The truth was laid before me in every single article that littered the insane room.

Carlisle was not a collector of things, but of people.

"...that belongs to Bella will now be yours, of course, and until I feel I can trust you again, Jasper will be keeping track of all of your funds. This time, I'm giving you both a warning, only because you're family. If you attempt anything like this again, there will be much harsher consequences. You are the future of this family. I need you to start acting like it."

"What?" I asked, my aching head not comprehending what was being said. I blinked and felt tears slipping down my face. Edward finally looked at me. He was concerned that I hadn't yet healed. Or maybe he was wishing he hadn't given me the file – the money – in the first place. I'd gotten him in trouble, but why would anything that I owned be his? I no longer had anything for him to own anyway. It didn't make sense. The only items that I'd had to my name were a stack of papers covered in ink and tape, a shoe box – that apparently now belonged to Carlisle, along with the money inside I also assumed – and my pride and dreams and hopes that were now nonexistent, that had floated around like the dust motes behind Edward's head, soon to be scattered and gone and… nothing.

"Edward was instructed to send a message to Aro that you were now one of us and he failed. This time we're sending a much clearer message."

I looked to Edward, one large hand covering the lower half of his face, his eyes boring holes into the spot on the floor where his eyes were fixated.

"I don't understand," I mumbled, as Carlisle began to stand and walk out of the room. His voice had been calm, unnaturally calm for a man who had just found out he'd been duped by his own family. The way he threw the papers back into the briefcase seemed more telling, and I flinched.

"You're going to become one of us permanently, Bella. Tomorrow, you're going to marry Edward."

The room spun around me and my stomach clenched painfully.

He was my boss.

He was my friend.

I couldn't…

"I'm surprised at your reaction, Edward. In light of what you've done, you should be thanking me. I'm giving you exactly what you wanted."

I looked over at him, wondering what Carlisle meant, but the look of defeat on his face told me everything.

We had no choice in the matter.

The door closed firmly behind Carlisle as he left us alone in the cramped, stuffy room; it was a blessing and a curse and the last place I wanted to be alone with him.

This was my fault. All my fault.

I'd ruined everything.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered. He shook his head rapidly in response, his hand dropped to his lap.

"This isn't your fault, Bella. My plan was foolish. I should have known it would never have worked. We're lucky that it didn't get farther than it did."

So there had been no hope after all, then.

Time seemed to stand still as we sat together in a long silence, surrounded by other people's memories and dreams that were probably also snatched from them when they least expected it. The air around us seemed stifling and cold all at once.

I let out a long, shaking breath unable to hold back my emotions. I sniffled and he handed me his handkerchief. His initials were sewn into it with white thread in fancy script. "EM"

I started to ask him about the missing letter, but he spoke first, breaking the silence.

"Bella, I don't expect…" He ran both hands through his already disheveled hair. "This… thing… can be platonic between us. I never wanted children."

I could feel my face flaming red and I stared at the initials on his handkerchief, unable to meet his eyes, though I could feel that he was watching me, waiting for some type of response.

When I was a little girl, my daydreams of family had always consisted of a man who loved me, who would take me away from my evil mother to his castle, where I would be safe. Sometimes they would also include a baby who I'd be able to love and who would love me, and I'd pretend that I was the best mother who ever lived.

Now, I was far too old to believe in fairy tales and happily ever afters. Most women my age were already married and having children, but it wasn't something I'd allowed myself to even think about as an adult. As an adult, my only focus had been to survive and breathe and last through the night and focus and survive all over again.

In other circumstances, I'd have been grateful to have such a handsome man to call mine. In another life, he would have been down on one knee with a ring and a promise. In a life other than ours, we would have the choice to find whomever we wanted.

He took my hand in his, and it was sweet and unnecessary, and completely in contrast with the man I'd witnessed two nights ago in my apartment.

The only choice I had left was to accept my lot in life and make the best of my circumstances. The most I could hope for was that he would continue to be kind to me, that I would never have to be afraid of him. I looked up into his waiting green eyes and took a deep breath.

"Okay," I said, nodding slightly, agreeing to the unspoken question that he would never ask.

He smiled slightly, and there was something in his emerald green eyes that made my stomach do somersaults.

He wouldn't hurt me, I kept chanting to myself as he wiped tears from my cheeks with his large hands.

"I'm so sorry, Bella."

I was going to marry a man who was capable of killing with his bare hands, but could also gently wipe away tears.

I was going to marry my friend who had tried to help me escape and who would forever chain me to this life.

I was going to marry Edward Cullen.

Several reviewers guessed that this would happen! What do you think? I am so nervous about this chapter!

Thank you to the guest reviewer who pointed out a mistake that I made in wording on the last chapter. I've fixed that now, thank you. :)