Here's the new chapter, as promised. Hope you enjoy.

Thank you all for the awesome reviews, I'm glad you're excited, and I promise not to disappoint you. This story would be unlike any other.

I had to edit Bella's birth year so that the story would make sense, Renesmee turns six in 2011. And Bella will celebrate her 29th birthday (born: 1982). And Renesmee was born in 2005.

xo

CHAPTER 2

BPOV

The sun was setting, but the day wasn't over yet, at least not for me. I walked with Jake back towards the gleaming doors of Bergdorf's which I was sure were door to some kind of mystic land of Narnia. I mean the air in there smelled different, like everything was alright. Or it will be as soon as you walk out carrying their shopping bags filled with the ultimate designer must-haves. Sigh! The high life! I thought smiling at the US flag hanging above…

I remembered the time when Rosalie had taken me and Renesmee to Tiffany & Co. to shop for Renesmee's last birthday.

Flashback:

"When I get it the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real life place that'd make me –"

"And the Oscar goes to – ROSALIE HALE!" I said as if I were really going to present her with one.

"Ohmigosh! Really?" Rosalie squealed with joy as if she'd really won an Oscar. She really was a pro at acting.

"Yeah," I said handing her my empty Starbucks cup. "But you can give your thanking speech after we're done, okay," I added just in case Rosalie wanted to launch into a real thanking speech for the imaginary award.

"Okay," she said making an adorable little pout making Renesmee laugh.

"Come on, darling; let's get you something wonderful," I had tried to persuade Rosalie to give up the idea of getting Renesmee something expensive but her stubbornness had overpowered mine and here I was, letting her do what she pleased.

"Rose, it's absolutely unnecessary, you know, she doesn't need –"

"Sweetheart, it is, she's turning five, you know, FIVE!" she said as if I didn't know what turning five was.

"I know five, okay. One – two – three – four – FIVE!" I said, letting my annoyance get on the surface. "She's just turning five, not sweet sixteen!" I defended my case.

"I know, but every girl should get something from Tiffany's on her birthday," Rosalie explained as if she were explaining about the benefits of a balanced diet for a healthy life.

I thought about my fifth birthday and tried to remember if I had had a trip to Tiffany's or not. NO, I'd surely not, I'd went on a trip to Museum with Charlie, my dad and Renée had baked my favorite apple pies and chocolate cake, with Granma Marie's special pancakes and vanilla ice-cream.

My dad, Charlie Swan, the only son of a photographer, Jack Swan and French model, Marie Descourtes, who came to New York for a fashion week in the fall of 1958, where she met a cute photography intern and fell madly in love with him, and well, the rest is history, they got married and lived together (happily, if not for the ever-after part!) Marie had to work as a waitress part-time to make the two ends meet, but they were in love, and the world didn't matter. They were happy, if not rich. In 1961, Marie got pregnant with my dad.

We weren't rich; we couldn't afford yearly trips to Tiffany & Co. even if it were for buying a charm that cost barely fifty dollars. Fifty dollars was too big an amount to waste it like that.

I looked at my daughter, happily browsing through the shiny, glass covered tops of the showcases, looking at each piece of jewelry and commenting like a Sotheby's expert who is verifying its authenticity. I smiled at her, thinking how lucky she was, I had grown up in Queens, the only daughter of a baker, Renée Dwyer-Swan (my mom ran a bakery with my mother in Brooklyn) and NYPD detective.

I was barely fourteen, when my dad was killed while negotiating a hostage situation in Bronx, and Granma Marie died of cervical cancer when I was sixteen (so forget sweet sixteen!). My birthdays made me feel sorry for myself and the way my life was, though now I had Renesmee I had some reason to be happy about. And with just two years into college, my mom was raped and murdered thereafter.

I was now an orphan, and that was the first time ever in my life I felt alone, like I needed someone to go to, but I didn't know who. My only friend, Seth Clearwater, whose father worked with dad at NYPD, had moved to the west coast when I left for college. I was all by myself.

And that was when I met him. Smart, witty, handsome, and loving, he was all I could ever ask for. Like in any Ashton Kutcher movie, we were instantly drawn to each other, things happened really fast even though we both tried hard to take it slow, but we couldn't. It was just emotions and hormones, and we let them take over our better judgment. We moved in together, knowing that was what we both wanted, everything was perfect.

Like it was some Taylor Swift song I was in, or a Hilary Duff movie. My reality was better than what anyone could've dreamt of; even Grace Kelly's life seemed like a morbid postmortem report rather than a fairytale compared to mine. We'd attend school during the day, come back in the evening, sit together in the balcony of our tiny apartment and talk about our day while eating sandwiches (the only thing I could make!), make love for a while and then study. It was perfect!

Before I could delve deeper into my memories, a voice called me back to reality.

"Bella!" someone called my name. A shiver ran down my spine when I put a name and a face to that voice. It was familiar, eerily familiar.

And boy, I was scared to hear it the ghost of my past. It wasn't one of my nightmares, it was real, in fading sunlight, I stood frozen with fear, everything, pain, hatred, regret rushing back to me in the same second. I knew I shouldn't turn, if I did – then that would be the biggest mistake! No, second biggest mistake of my life, I shouldn't turn. NO! I told myself sharply only to be betrayed by my heart.

I turned back to face him, standing just a few feet away, the distance he could physically cover in a matter of few seconds.

I could feel what my facial expressions must be showing, hatred mingled with pain and anger!

I looked at his face, for the first time in six years, it had changed somewhat in details but otherwise he was still his twenty-one year self, handsome and – I stopped the train of my thoughts at once.

I wanted to turn back and go, and never see him again but my feet refused to obey him, it was like they were frozen there, even in September.

I don't know for how long I stood there, looking at him, transfixed, not breaking my gaze. I wondered if a part of me was in love with him, I had moved, hadn't I? Started a new life, without him… then why?

(Some guy's) POV

I didn't know how to get the next words out of my mouth, she stood in front of me, though she wasn't running to me, she wasn't walking away either. It had to be a good sign. But I couldn't speak, it was like all those questions that had always been boiling in my for six years had somehow found their answers and had evaporated the moment I saw her.

And then I saw what she was trying to hide behind her flowy, knee-length sundress and a huge shoulder bag. It was a child, a boy.

Could it be?

It had to be, I couldn't see his face, but the way Bella was holding his hand had to mean something. He was my child. The child … the reason why.

I knew I had to act fast, it was now or never.

Now! I thought to myself and started walking towards her.

BPOV

He was walking towards me, as I saw that adrenaline shot into my veins as if it were some kind of threat approaching. Threat, yes, he was a threat. Threat to my life, to my daughter and me.

I didn't want him anymore than he wanted my child. I hated the way he was looking at me, as if I were some kind of object of dissection he needed to focus on. It wasn't just focus; it was something way too determined, it was scary whatever it was.

I had to escape. Run from him, or lose everything I had.

Before I could look around and hatch a quick escape plan a group of animal rights protestors came into view and within two seconds they were between him and me, shielding me from him. I took this as a cue and literally ran towards the door, which was only about ten feet from where I stood; dragging poor Jake along with me. He was staring around like I had suddenly gone crazy.

"Its okay, Jake," I said trying to calm myself more than him. "It's fine. Okay, relax now." I whispered to myself.

"Oh, there you are, Jake!" said and approaching Leah Black, all dressed in a grey business suit and now holding a couple of shopping bags, too. "You shouldn't keep mommy waiting for too long," she cooed at Jake, kneeling to hug him.

I hoped Rosalie would see this; it would at least make her realize that Leah didn't lack family values or skills when it came to raising kids.

"I'm sorry, mother," Jake said.

"It's okay, honey," Leah said, "You must be hungry, let's get you something to eat first."

"Okay," Jake didn't say anything about the hotdogs, so I was right.

"Thank you, Isabella," Leah said getting up.

"Its okay, Leah," I offered her a slight smile.

"Next time, don't let him eat more than one hotdogs," Leah whispered. I was suddenly ashamed of myself. My face grew red hot with the amount of blood pulsing through.

"Okay, see you around. Bye, Jake," I said trying to hide my embarrassment at being caught at wrongdoing, though I had done nothing wrong, there was something about Leah's stare that made me feel as if I was a ten year old caught eating too many candies.

I watched Leah and Jake leave and then went back to Rosalie and Renesmee.

"Hey, where's Jake?" Rosalie asked.

"Leah came and took him home," I explained sitting down on one of the couches.

"Where Renesmee by the way?" I asked looking for my daughter.

"Here's your little princess," a sweet but squeaky Tinkerbell-like voice boomed from nowhere, I looked around for the source to spot a short, pixie-esque women presenting Renesmee dressed in a fitted white tank top and a soft baby pink, tulle skirt.

"Turn around to show your new dress to your mom, darling," she told Renesmee and Renesmee, twirled around on one foot like a little ballerina.

"Beautiful," Rosalie said before me.

"Enchantee!" I said, voicing Granma Marie. She always said it whenever we went shopping; I often thought if it was to make me take some interest in shopping.

"Thanks a lot," I said to the girl. She was dressed in a strapless emerald green sundress, making the whole Tinkerbell appeal she had, even more realistic, well, except for the fact that she had short dark hair, which framed her small elfish face perfectly. Her pixie cut could inspire people more than Rihanna, I decided.

"Oh, you don't have to thank me," she said holding out her hand, "I'm Alice!"

"Bella!" I said taking her hand.

"Bella, your daughter is such an adorable little darling, I wish my daughter would be like her," she said too candidly for a stranger I'd just met shopping.

I didn't understand how shopping could bring women closer, that was one way girls bonded, dealt with heartbreaks and bad days and other stuff but seriously, how is it that people become best friends over their common love for Fendi and Chanel.

"Yeah, she is," I said stealing a glance at Renesmee, who was trying to pirouette again.

"You should send her for ballet classes," Alice suggested as she looked at her with admiration.

"Yeah, I guess," I agreed, wondering if she was going to outdo me in the dance and balance department as well. I was horrible when it came to balance; there was not a single day I didn't trip over something, however flat it may be. My days were incomplete without falling and tripping. Rosalie joked that I kept tripping because it was a sign that I needed someone to hold me. Though she said it like a joke and laughed at it herself, I knew there was a deeper meaning to her words than we both let on.

"Time to shop for the mother," Rosalie announced, clapping her hands together like she was hatching a MI6 conspiracy, not shopping for someone who was simply reluctant to shop.

And guess what the most horrible part of the day was, well, when Alice, Renesmee and Rosalie joined forces against me and started picking out five-hundred dollar dresses, trench coats, and five-inch heels for me. All I had to do was just try them on, as Rosalie had said.

Right, that should be easier than it seems, I thought changing into a yellow tribal print maxi dress, not bothering to read the tag, I didn't care if it was Stella McCartney of Marc Jacobs.

I put it on and looked at myself in the mirror, I looked good, indeed. Or maybe it was the lights; I had dark brown hair with a few red stands that showed up only when Rosalie dragged me along with her to her family vacations in Cape Cod and the Hamptons.

Yellow contrasted well with my dark brown eyes and hair and my already faint and fading tan.

"Oh, come out already," Rose said knocking the door impatiently.

"Just a second," I said combing my fingers through my hair.

"My momma, gorgeous," Renesmee exclaimed proudly making me smile. I didn't know what I'd do without her.

"This one's a keeper," Alice announced thrusting another dress in my hands, this one a white D&G halter dress. I sighed and went back inside, trying to be happy to be playing dress up.

After trying another two dozen dresses, Rosalie and Alice were finally content and decided it was time to leave.

"Hope to see you again," Alice said happily.

"Surely, I'd love to," Rosalie said hugging her, "here, keep my card," she offered Alice her card.

"You're a doctor," Alice said, surprised.

"A neurosurgeon," Renesmee corrected her politely.

"Right, darling, a neurosurgeon," Alice repeated, "and do invite me to your birthday, okay. I want my share of you birthday cake."

"Oh, you should come, Alice," I said.

"I will, if Renesmee invites me," she said.

"You have to come, Alice," Renesmee announced.

"I will, princess. After all, it's your birthday," Alice said happily as if it were her own birthday. I'd never seen someone be so enthusiastic about someone else's birthday…

Before Alice could say another word, her phone started playing Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake ballet, "excuse me, it's my brother, I have to go," she said glancing at the lighted screen.

"Bye," the three of us said at once, as she traipsed out of the door, holding a dozen shopping bags.

"I'm tired, let's go," I said, suddenly feeling nauseated.

"Yeah, let me get my bag, I left it upstairs," Rosalie said rushing back.

(Some guy's) POV

So she'd run away again.

She had escaped answering my questions once again, but before long she'd have to give me my answers. Why she'd done what she'd done? Why?

And I needed to meet my child, too. My child, the words filled me with strange warmth as I walked back to the café. I wanted my child. My boy. I wondered what she had told him about me.

I spent two hours debating and arguing with myself about everything that had happened six years ago, Bella, my child and me. I wanted to know what I had done wrong, why she had run away and why she wanted to hide from me.

Why?

"I'll never ever lie to you," she said caressing my cheek with her warm, soft palm.

"And why would that be?" I said, covering her hand with mind, building something that went deep; something went by the name of trust.

"Why would I lie to you?" she answered with one of her mysterious smiles, answering my question with another question.

I smiled at her wit and leaned down to kiss her.

You can't run away from me, Bella, you have to tell me… everything. And soon.

Maybe New York is a big city, but Manhattan is a small island. There's nowhere for you to hide.

I had a quick flash of idea and opened my MacBook Pro and typed into Google's search box "Isabella Swan" and clicked search.

BPOV

At night I lay in bed thinking about the events of this afternoon, he was here, in New York and as far as I remembered, he lived in Manhattan.

And Manhattan is a very small island, I thought, feeling unsafe suddenly. I had more careful now, especially when it came to Renesmee, I didn't know how she'd react, or what would happen if he realized who Renesmee is.

Suddenly I remembered that he hadn't seen Renesmee, he'd seen Jake with me. Well, I was hoping he hadn't but he wasn't that blind not to see a three feet tall kid standing next to a skinny girl, I mean I wasn't a gorilla or a kangaroo that could hide its offspring somehow, I was but a human and he must've seen.

Well, then that was some sort of relief if he was going to think of Jake as my child, his child, I almost winced at the words 'his child'. I really couldn't accept even the faintest idea of that impossibility being real.

I just hoped he hadn't seen Jake's face or I was going to be sued by Leah Black for exposing her child to life threatening situations. Or maybe she'll sure him and put restraining orders on him or something. I smiled wickedly and passed onto the land of Nod where my nightmares awaited me. As usual.

So Renesmee's birthday is coming up and I want your ideas about how it should be celebrated. And how Jasper and Alice meet, that's going to something. And yeah, we are yet to meet Edward and Emmett. Well, maybe in the next chapter.

P.S. - I totally love Tiffany's and Audrey Hepburn and the Chronicles of Narnia.

And I love that he thinks Jake's his child, silly boy! LOL. And we got a flashback to Bella's past, about her family and love life.

Ten reviews to the next chapter, guys and do tell me what you expect.