I know, I suck. Sorry this is coming in late. My schedule has been absolutely crazy the past couple of days. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

This chapter takes place the night following last chapter- just FYI.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.

xxx

NOV 2007: Edward's Room.

My hand rests against his door.

Just knock, it's no big deal.

I hear shuffling on the other side.

Maybe he wants to be alone, I mean he would have told you if he didn't.

I lean back on the heels of my feet, my other hand taps against the side of my leg.

God, this is so stupid. You're stupid.

I draw in a breath, steel determination as I go to knock on the door. My heart beats a little faster, a tightness spreads in my chest. You would think after everything, I'd be past this. But I don't want to push him, or push this.

Fuck it, he didn't say he wanted to hangout, he always does if he wants to see me.

My mind goes to what happened yesterday, his indifference, his accusations, how he pushed me in the bathroom, kissing me.

You hurt his feelings, maybe he needs space.

I swallow.

Yeah, space.

The door opens.

My eyes blink as he stares at me with a lazy smile as he leans against the frame.

"I swear Bella, I could hear the argument going on in that head of yours from across the room," he says.

I blanch.

He's teasing me.

I look down, suddenly interested in the carpet.

"I just figured, maybe you wanted space," I mumble.

The silence between us is thick. As it stretches on I feel my heart beat faster and the air suffocating.

His hand grabs mine, pulling me into the room and softly shuts the door behind me as he leads me to his bed.

Images on what happened on this bed play in my mind, and I blush.

God, you're such a school girl.

"I want you to be just as comfortable seeking me out," he says as we sit, his hand still wrapped around mine.

As if that's going to happen.

"Why is that so funny," he asks his voice tinged in sharpness.

Shit, I didn't mean to laugh.

I pull my hand out of his and wring my hands together. The room suddenly feels smaller.

"Bella," he says with a sigh. "I don't want to push you, but you have to give me something," he says rubbing a hand over his face.

But he is pushing.

Maybe he should.

I hate this feeling, this panic, the dread.

"There's something wrong with me," I blurt out.

I nearly smack my hand against my mouth.

Well, clearly. Why the hell did you just announce that?

I jump off the bed, and pace the room, my fingers digging into my forearm.

"You have to give me something." Edward's words replay in mind.

But I don't want to, I don't want to give him ammunition to hurt me more than he'll inevitably to do in the end.

Maybe he won't.

"Bella, talk to me," Edward says.

My eyes snap to his. They're filled with worry as his fingers grip the blanket.

The weight of all the shit I deal with begins to suffocate me, I'm crumbling beneath the pressure. My fingernails dig deeper into my skin.

"They're something wrong with me," I repeat looking at him. "I don't know what it is yet," I say before looking at the ceiling. "Believe me, I've tried," I say with a bitter laugh.

Edward stands and walks to me before grabbing my hands.

"There's nothing wrong-

I yank my hands out of his.

"My own parents don't love me, Edward," I hiss at him. "Obviously there's something wrong with me if my own damn parents don't love me."

His eyes widen in horror.

"Bella, I'm sure that isn't-

"It is," I cut him off. "Your mother says I love you, every night, every time you get out of the car, before you hang up, she says it all the time. Do you know the last time my mother told me that?" I ask. "Well that would make two of us, seeing as I can't remember either," I finish, my tone biting and bitter.

I turn around, not wanting to look at him.

"I'm terrified that you'll find whatever it is that's wrong with me," I whisper. "Then you'll be done, realize what a mistake this is, what a mistake I am."

My eyes burn.

I will not cry.

My breath catches, my throat swells. I blink back the tears.

Don't be weak Bella.

A flash of myself at eight years old, my mother's venomous tongue, my sobbing at her words slam into me.

"Stop crying," she demands, grasping my chin in her hand. "It's annoying, and if you don't stop then I'll give you reason to cry."

Crying is weakness. It changes nothing.

Arms circle me from behind, Edward's lips press against my neck as he embraces me tightly.

"I'm sorry," he whispers against my skin.

Don't cry.

He releases me only to turn me around. His hands cradle my head, forcing me to look at him.

"Bella, I want you listen to me," he says, something in his eyes is on fire. "What you just said," he starts before closing his eyes and taking a breath. "There's nothing wrong with you," he shakes his head as I open my mouth. "No Bella, there isn't. There's something wrong with her."

I shake my head. He doesn't get it.

"Bella listen to me," he demands. "There's something wrong with her."

To my horror, it's like Pandora's box is blown open. Every shameful sob tears through my body as I shake violently. I grasp onto his shirt, my chest heaving, and knees weak to keep from falling. His face closes in on my mine, his lips press against my lips.

"You're not a mistake," he whispers over and over again.

But you are, you know you are.

But his words feel nice, and I want to bask in them, let them numb the pain, to wash over me. And maybe, if he speaks them enough, maybe they'll become true.

The feels! Finally, Bella is opening up!

Did you guys like it? Please let me know what you think!

My updating will probably be in the mornings for the next week or so.