Summary: Isabella lived a perfect life with her husband until the abuse started. With the death of her mother, she may have just been given life changing gift: a way out. But with it comes a whole new world that she may not be ready to face. Maybe with the help of her green-eyed savior. Mafia, Crime, Abuse, Hurt/Comfort.

*Easter Egg! The title will be: Forget Me Not.*

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. Stephanie Meyers owns characters but the plot is of my original work.

Enjoy!

Chapter 23: Something New

"I want you to trust me," Edward said. He released a breath he was holding and his shoulders visibly relaxed. "I'm happy that you do."

"I don't know why though," I said. "I haven't really had the best judgment in men…that's the reason why we're here in the first place."

His face darkened. "I will never hurt you, Bella," he stated firmly. "I want you to know that some part of me feels very protective of you and I don't know how dominant that side of me is. I just know that being away from you doesn't feel right."

I wanted to tell that him that I felt the same way, but my mouth kept shut.

"I can't do anything about James," he said. I flinched at the name out of habit, and his jaw clenched when I did so. "I'm sorry." I waved him off, and he continued. "Right now, he's untouchable. He has too many connections, and it will make too many enemies. This is me being honest with you."

I nodded my head solemnly.

"I don't want any of you to risk your lives for me," I said.

"Don't even start with me on that," he argued. "That's a discussion for another time. What I want you to understand is that if being here with you every night for however long you need me...I'm here. It's the only way I can protect you. For now."

"Why, Edward? "

He seemed to contemplate what I asked for a second before he opened his mouth again. "I don't think I can come up with an answer at this time. I'm just as confused as you. I don't make a habit of sneaking in a woman's bed at night."

My lip twitched into a smile at his statement, and he seemed to glow when he saw that. He ducked his head and gripped my chin gently to guide my face to look at him.

"I saw you laughing earlier," he said. "I wish there was a way I could take away your pain. Seeing you so carefree, I'd do anything to bring that back. I'd do anything to see that side of you."

As expected, I felt my cheeks turn red, and I squirmed under his gaze.

"I'm afraid there wouldn't be much to see before any of this happened," I said.

"Humor me," he urged.

"Before I got married? I was a geeky girl. I loved sci-fi movies and fiction novels. I loved playing those Pictionary games with my friends and going to bookstores. When I found that bookstore in Hewlett Harbor, I was in heaven. Oh, my God, I can live inside a bookstore, and I'd be happy for the rest of my life. I listened to all kinds of music, but my mom said I was an old soul because my favorite was 'older' and classical music. I had so many CDs and books in Chicago, but I had to leave them all behind."

As he listened to my story, a crooked smile formed on his lips. The way his expression showed me that he was genuinely entranced with the words coming out of my mouth encouraged me to continue.

"If you don't mind, maybe some day I can show you my collection," he offered.

My eyes sparkled with excitement. "You have a music collection?"

He nodded. "I've always been in love with music. I don't prefer those digital versions or streaming. I like having actual hard copies of my music. If I wasn't doing what I do now, I'd be a musician."

I gasped. "What instrument do you play?"

He laughed. "I play the piano. I had a teacher when I was younger, and I've been classically trained since then. I love classical music too." My heart fluttered. "I also play the guitar and a little of the violin, but I never mastered it."

"I wish I knew how to play," I said. "But I've never been musically inclined. Now that I think about it, I didn't excel in anything that required coordination or balance. I wasn't sporty or popular in high school. I was never the cheerleader type, but I was a hot shot in yearbook class."

He barked out a laugh. "How can you be a hotshot in yearbook?"

I glared playfully at him. "I was the editor. And I held the power as to what made it into the yearbook and what didn't. I had a bunch of popular girls kiss my ass because they wanted the most cameos."

"You're kidding me," he guffawed.

I shook my head. "Nope. To those girls, being in the yearbook more than once was a big deal. You know that part where they voted classmates on who was most likely to succeed or best couple?" He nodded. "At my school, it was a war zone for those slots."

"I didn't notice these things when I was in high school," he said.

I rolled my eyes. "Of course you didn't. You were probably the most popular guy. The star quarterback, every teenage girl's dream. Heartbreaker and troublemaker."

He pursed his lips and then sighed. "Fine," he conceded, and I laughed. "Although you're wrong. I wasn't the quarterback. I played soccer and baseball, but I was never on the football team."

"I wonder what it would have been like if we went to the same school," I said.

"I don't think you would have liked me."

"Why not?"

"Well, according to you, we were on complete opposite spectrums in terms of popularity. Maybe I would've been the guy to break your heart."

"I don't think so," I said. "I don't fall for guys like you."

"What does that mean?"

"Assuming you were like the jocks in my year? I never paid them any attention because I didn't care."

"Then how did you…" he trailed off, but I had a feeling I knew what he was going to ask. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin the conversation."

"That's okay," I said. "How did I end up getting married to James?"

He nodded.

"I think during the time I met him, I started to realize that I missed a lot of high school experiences. I didn't have my first kiss or my first boyfriend. I didn't even go on a date throughout those four years, and I barely spoke to a guy outside of my yearbooks class. So when James showed interest in me, I jumped the gun and went for it. I marveled at the attention he gave me. It was new, and I liked it."

Edward struggled for words to say so I kept talking to put him out his misery.

"My best friend, Angela tried to warn me about him, but instead I told her that she was just probably jealous. We pretty much stopped talking after that. And when I was watching the news on my funeral, I saw her there. I was mad at myself for destroying the friendship we had. If I didn't, if I listened to her, I would've been the godparent of her child. Do I know the gender of her baby? No, cause I 'died' by the time she gave birth. I guess this is why I value Alice and Rose's friendship so much. I don't want to miss the opportunity of having great friends like them again."

Hearing this part, that crooked smile was back on his face.

"I think Alice needs genuine friends like you," he said. "She had a tough time growing up." I gave him an incredulous look to which he shook his head. "No, I know that us Cullen kids were born and fed with a silver spoon. You'd think because of that, our lives were a whole lot easier, but they weren't. Alice had trouble making friends who didn't take advantage of her when she was younger.

Emmett and I, we're guys. Being involved in sports at school helped and in general, we were just tougher. I don't mean to sound sexist or whatever, but girls were vicious—especially rich girls. They tried to make friends with Alice to get our attention. They wanted to get invited to the house and sneak into our rooms."

"You're kidding me," I gasped.

He shook his head. "After Alice made that mistake twice, she stopped bringing friends home, and just kept to herself. Emmett and I would try to get her to sit with us at the lunch table, but tiny Alice couldn't handle jocks. We were too rowdy and messy, so Alice spent a lot of her time in the art class. That's where she started to fall in love with designing and look at her now. She has her own studio, and she's becoming a top brand. She did that all by herself, without any help from us."

"I guess I didn't know," I said, and suddenly felt so sad for Alice. Someone like her who had such a big heart deserved better.

"Money doesn't buy everything," he said. "Not happiness. Not genuine friends and it certainly can't replace family. I hope you understand how much you mean to Uncle Charlie." I nodded in agreement. "I wasn't old enough to comprehend what happened when Aunt Renee left, but I knew a huge part of him was missing. You were the one who brought back that piece." He hesitated. "Can you do something for me?"

"What is it?"

"Don't scare us like that again," he said and I didn't have to ask what he was referencing. "For Uncle Charlie's peace of mind, and for mine, if that makes any difference, please stay with Sam at all times. If it isn't your ex-husband that puts you in danger, it's the enemies the Swans and Cullens have made over the years. We live a very dangerous life, and that's why we have so much protection when it comes to our loved ones. Bella, do you understand me?"

"Yeah," I said. "I promise."

"I'm going to take your word for it," he said.

I nodded my head quickly. "I don't want to be a burden," I said. "If it means being surrounded by twenty bodyguards twenty-four seven, I'll do it for Charlie…I'll also…do it for you." I almost whispered the last part, and once again, my face flamed in embarrassment. I turned my head to look at the clock on the side table, and I gasped when I saw the time. "It's 3 AM?"

He checked his watch and nodded. "Yeah, I guess time flew by," he said. "You should sleep now, Bella."

When he made a move to get up from the bed, my face blanched and I reached out to grab his arm. He laughed and said, "I'm not leaving, Bella. I'm just going to lock the door. I told you, I'm going to stay for as long as you need."

I watched him pad over to the door and listened for the soft click of the lock. I busied myself with settling back into bed instead of ogling at his back. When I felt the bed shift next to me, I looked up and found myself staring into his piercing green eyes as we rest on pillows ... our faces mere inches apart.

When he reached for my hand, my heart fluttered.

When he pulled our joined hands to his lips, and he kissed mine, I thought I was going to explode.

"Goodnight, my Bella," he said. This time, I was sure I heard him say it.

"Goodnight, Edward," I whispered.

My eyes fluttered, and I fell into blissful sleep.

X

For the second day in a row, I felt rejuvenated. I woke up embraced by strong, powerful arms, and that electric current that lulled me into peace. His breath was coming warm and thick down my arms, and his scent swirled all around me. He smelled manly, spicy, and just…Edward.

The time said ten o'clock. I listened for movement around the house, knowing Esme was an early bird. Edward was always one step ahead of me, and I'm glad he remembered to lock the door. Not that we were doing anything wrong, but I'm sure he wouldn't want Esme to catch us in bed.

I sighed.

I wish I had met Edward first. I wish I were I married to him, and we were in our own bed, in our room, and in our house. I wish we weren't sneaking around, and that our lives weren't so complicated; that I could wake up next to this handsome man every day and call him mine. Or maybe, our kids would jump on the bed—one boy and one girl—and we'd head downstairs and make pancakes.

I want that life.

I want it so bad that the pain in my chest was unbearable.

He must have sensed that something was wrong. His grip around me tightened, and he propped himself on one elbow. He nudged me to look at him, and when I did, his eyes scanned my face for the problem.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," I whispered.

"Tell me," he said.

"No, I promise," I lied. "Nothing's wrong."

"Is it because we woke up like this?" He gestured to the way his arms were circled around my waist. "Do you want me to leave sometime during the night?"

He was completely misinterpreting the situation. "No," I gasped. "That's not it at all. I just feel bad that you're stuck here with me."

"Why is that a bad thing?" he asked. "I want to be here."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

I frowned. "But," I hesitated. I stood up and paced at the foot of the bed. I probably looked like a mess, and my hair was sticking around in all direction, but I couldn't care less. "Don't you see why I'm confused?"

When I looked up at him, my heart skipped a beat. He was so perfect; the muscled arms, the sex hair, and the face of an Adonis. His face was scrunched in confusion, but he still looked so perfect. Even when he scratched the back of his neck and even with the sheets tangled around his legs.

"Talk to me," he said. He pushed himself to the edge of the bed. He grabbed my arms and faced me to look at him. At this angle, with him sitting on the bed, we were eye-to-eye. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Why do you want to be here? What do you want from me?"

His face was full of shock. "I don't want anything from you," he said. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you could be in bed with any other woman, but you're here. Instead, you've wasted your time on some poor, damaged, little girl. Most of all, I don't want pity. If that's why you're coming here every night, don't. Just leave."

His lip curled in distaste, and I was able to pull myself from his grip. I walked across the room and looked out the glass door. I wrapped my arms around myself and forced my tears to stay way. I heard him get up from the bed, and as always, Edward surprised me. I expected him to leave the room, but instead, he walked over to me.

I looked up at him, and he took my hand in his.

"Bella, I don't think you're damaged. I think you're a survivor and because of that, you're the strongest one of us all. You're here, and you're alive," he said. "You've experienced things that none of us ever have or ever will, and you made it through. Some people can't, and some people don't.

What you need to do is stop thinking everyone is sorry for you. I don't feel sorry for you, I feel inspired. I don't see some…damaged little girl." He growled the last part. "I see a kind, beautiful, and powerful woman. I wouldn't want anything less in a person. Maybe at times, she's sad, or she's hurting but she here...alive...living. That's why I want to be with her."

"What?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I want to be with you every step of the way. Not just when you're happy or when you're feeling okay. I want to be with you through times like this—when you can't sleep at night or when you feel shitty about yourself."

I choked out a laugh, and my tears were bubbling to the surface.

"I don't know what the hell I'm doing either," he exasperated. "I don't know the answer to everything. But what's my mind and my gut telling me? To stick by your side."

"What if I can't give you what you want?" I cried softly.

"You're already giving me more than what I've asked," he said.

"No," I shook my head. "I don't know if I can be with someone ever again. Am I scared? Yes! Will I be able to function like a normal person? I don't know. You're a man Edward and what if I can't give you…that?"

"I don't care about that," he emphasized.

"Maybe not now," I argued. "But how long till you do? And when that time comes, what if I'm still the same as I am now? You'll leave, and you'll hurt me?"

"I'm not going to leave," he said. "I'll wait for you. I don't care how long it takes, and I'm not going to ask you to do something that you don't want to. I'll earn your trust, and I'll earn your love."

"Love," I whispered. "How do we even know what love is?"

"I know for sure that it's something that exists."

I shook my head in disagreement. "I don't."

"You don't?" he asked. I nodded. "I do. You're a product of love, and so am I."

"My parents separated," I said. "I grew up with a single mother, and when I thought I fell in love, my husband raped, beat, and abused me." He flinched. "Can't handle hearing that? Try living through it. Love is blinding, and it hurts."

I turned away from him, but he was relentless.

"Your parents loved you so much that they were willing to sacrifice their love for you," he said. "They separated, but it was to protect you. You made a mistake with your ex-husband, but you shouldn't group all men into the same category. We aren't the same. As for me? What is love to me? Well, you should get to know me first before you assume things. You should know that I fell in love once before. I got hurt. I got over it, and I still believe in it."

"You weren't hurt like I was Edward!"

"How do you know that?" he asked. "How do you know what happened the last time I opened up to someone, and I loved her?"

"You're right, I don't know. But you can't possibly love me, Edward."

"Nothing is impossible," he said as he brought up my hand and kissed the back of it. For the hundredth time this morning, my heart fluttered. "Bella, please just listen to me. I'm not asking for anything but for you to try and trust me. Just have faith in me and know that I'm not the same as your ex-husband. I don't expect anything."

"I can't make promises," I warned.

"I'm not asking for promises. I'm asking you to trust me."

"I already told you," I said. "For some reason, I trust you. Please don't make me regret doing so. I've made my mistakes in the past, and I don't want to lose what's left of my dignity and my sanity."

"I won't ever let you down," he promised, and it rang true to my heart.

X

Sometime in the afternoon, Edward said he had to leave for a business meeting. We spent most of the morning holed up in my room with no one to bother us. Esme was at NCCE today; since she took a vacation for the New Year, she had a lot of work to do at the organization. Carlisle was at the hospital early in the morning and later in the day, he and Charlie had some business to take care of. I was starting to get curious about the 'business meetings' they had all the time, but I didn't ask.

I showered and changed into clean clothes. I headed into the kitchen for some food and settled for some chips and salsa. All the while, I thought of Edward. How did this happen? It wasn't too long ago that we hated each other and now I can't wait to see him tonight. Edward made it clear what his intentions were; that he liked me and wanted me to trust him. The latter is already done, but I can't wrap my head around the fact that he has feelings for me.

Edward Cullen having feelings for plain, ole' Bella?

I laughed at the obscurity of the situation. Leave it to me to swear off men for a long time, and not even a year after I left my ex-husband, I'm spending my nights with a stranger. Edward is still a stranger to me; I don't know his habits, his quirks, and his personality other than being completely cocky and over-protective at the same time. I don't know facts about his early life—specifically memories that he may or may not remember about my mom—and teenage years. I don't even know his favorite color.

Yet, knowing all of that I'm positive that later tonight, I'm going to leave the bedroom door unlocked and wait patiently for him to come home.

My phone rang, and when I checked the caller ID, Charlie's name was flashing.

"Good morning," I answered.

"Good morning, Bells," he replied. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better. I was able to sleep the past two nights. Any news?"

"Well, I'm afraid that's what I'm calling you about," he said. "James' next move is to show up at my front door, restraining order be damned. Although my personal home address isn't public information, James has the means to hire a private investigator. As much I want you to be home, I think you're going to have to stay with the Cullens for now. Is that okay?"

It took me a second to process what he said.

"What if he finds out about me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Charlie," I exasperated. "If James does hire a private investigator, what if he puts two and two together? That Isabella Swan is the same person as Marie Hayes?"

"I told you before," he said. "I made sure the Volturi won't find you and your mother when she filed for the divorce."

"Aren't marriage licenses public records?"

"Not when you had them pulled from the system," Charlie replied coolly. "It's a far-fetched theory even if it somehow crosses his mind. There are thousands of single mothers out there with daughters your age. Don't worry, honey. I'm taking care of everything on this side. I want you to take care of yourself and, please, eat."

I sighed and sank into my seat. I pushed away the bowl of salsa, my appetite gone. "I'm really starting to believe that pulling away from Witherdale Industries is doing us more damage than good."

"This is temporary," he said. "I'm sorry that it went this far. I didn't anticipate James going through such lengths to get my money back."

I laughed darkly. "Well, you should have told me first. I would have told you that James always gets what he wants. He'll fight through hell for it."

"Unfortunately for him, I have patience and whole lot more money than his family ever made. I didn't want to keep funding a company whose new CEO was the previous husband of my daughter; the same person who tormented and hurt her. My first order of business when I found out was to rip away all of the resources he had—let's not forget the fact that he has very limited cash now. Sooner rather than later, his empire will fall, and that is the best revenge you could ever have."

This chapter was edited by SunflowerFran. Thank you!

4/14/2018