BPOV

I fumbled around on the floor, searching for parts of the phone that had broken off. "Come on, come on," I muttered, urging my hands to search faster. When I finally put the phone back together, I frantically dialed Angela's number.

"Hello?" A high-pitched voice asked.

"Ian, it's Bella. Will you put your mommy on the phone, please?" I asked, breathless.

"Sure!" he agreed. I heard him pass the phone on.

"Hey Bella, what's up?" Angela asked, a smile evident in her voice.

"Did you just call me?" I asked, hoping that my ears were just off because of the weather. She seemed confused.

"No…"she trailed off.

"Did Ben?" I asked, reaching far on this one.

"He's working, I don't think he would call, but I could ask him," she offered. My stomach clenched.

"Oh, no, that's okay," I said quickly. "The phone rang and I dropped the phone before I could answer, that's all," I lied.

"Well, I don't think it was us, unless Ian was messing with the phone." I ruled that possibility out—there was no way that Ian's voice could come even close to what I heard.

"All right, I was just checking," I said, still trying to control my breathing. "Uh, before I go, did you need me to work today?" I asked.

"Oh, yes, actually. Could you come by some time around three? I need to run a few errands, and I think Ian's getting sick. I don't really want him outside right now." I agreed to be there and set the phone down with shaking hands. I pulled my hair up off of my neck and took a few deep breaths.

I dressed even warmer than I did yesterday, this time bringing a jacket with me that had a hood. When I stepped past the driveway, I literally walked into a giant cloud. The fog was much heavier than it normally was; it hung much closer to the ground, obscuring my view and making it difficult to see in front of me. My hair quickly became damp from the excess moisture in the air.

The weather was oddly peaceful. Even though I could feel the oncoming waves of despair that would undoubtedly ruin my façade of the day. For now, I let the coolness of the air wash over me and I walked through the clouds like I was in a dream. The strings that held me to the ground detached themselves just for a few minutes, allowing me to remember once more.

As the fog touched my skin, I pulled at the memories of Edward lightly running his fingers across my cheek bones. I smiled lightly and closed my eyes, continuing to move forward. It wasn't exactly a genius move for someone like me, but for the first time in a while, I felt at ease.

I imagined that Edward was there with me, walking next to me. The temperature matched his skin, with my eyes closed and my imagination, I could make a small part of it come true. I even went so far as to imagine my lullaby playing, echoing off into the distance. I've already started, might as well enjoy myself, I thought.

There were three ways that this would end for me. The first being that I would realize this wasn't enough, the second being that my imagine would drift off to events that I didn't want to remember. The last possibility would be that I trip on something and snap out of my trance-like state. Either one would have the same side effects—a huge crevice that would take another year to slowly shrink.

I was wrong. My moment of peace ended for a completely different reason. I collided with something. At first I thought it was a telephone pole. Maybe a parked car? Then I felt a pair of cold, marble-like arms reach out to steady me. I instantly came out of it and gasped, snapping open my eyes.

In front of me was someone that I had believed I would never see again. I peered into the familiar and warming golden eyes and felt my throat close up. I knew I had been imaging things, but this was insane. Had I gone crazy? There was absolutely no way that this could be happening. Edward didn't love me anymore. Why would be here?

He looked desperate, but then a slow crooked smile spread along the side of his face. Yep…I was crazy. It was perfect, just as I had remembered it. "I'm hallucinating," I whispered.

Edward's face crumpled, twisting into a mask of confusion and despair. "No, Bella," he said. His velvety voice was almost tangible. It blew over me like my skin was parched and needed water. I shook my head.

"No. This isn't happening." My knees started to tremble and I felt his grip on my arms tighten slightly. "Y-you're not real. Why would you be back?"

He seemed cautious now, yet somehow determined. "Because I love you," he said. My entire body was now being supported. This wasn't right.

"You don't," I argued. "You said you didn't," I choked out, terrified because I was positive that I had gone crazy. He shook his head once more and I felt my legs fall out from underneath me. My leg's had given out, but before I could hit the ground, I somehow ended up in his arms.

He was walking, moving in the direction of my house. I was barely coherent, yet he spoke to me with kind, gentle words.

"I promise you, I am real," he said.

"Why?" I demanded. He stopped moving.

"What?"

"Why are you here?" Things were starting to clear up again, not only my mind but the fog as well. I looked down to see his feet moving—more like gliding—over the ground. Reality hit me with full force.

"I think you know why I'm here, Bella," he answered. I honestly didn't. I cowered into his chest and shuddered. This was real. I was really in Edward's arms right now.

"You've been gone for three years Edward," I said, working my lips carefully around his name. "Why now?" My voice wasn't very audible, but he could hear it. Suddenly, I was on the ground again. He was still guarded, almost as stiff as I was.

His eyes were smoldering, similar to the way they were when we first met, but this time, there were different messages in them.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. His voice shook, like he was holding something back, maybe he was trying not to breath. I was completely unaware of what I was doing; I could only focus on him. He reached up slowly lifted something off of my face. A tear. Several beads of moisture trailed down my cheeks. I was crying, but my body only felt relieved. It was like somebody had returned the part of me that was missing.

"Uh…do you want to come in?" I asked, my voice still shook. I was afraid to blink. He nodded.

"Yes, I would like that," he answered. Edward's pace matched mine as I lead him up to the door. He rested his hand lightly on my elbow. I wasn't sure if he was helping me keep balance or not. I could feel his eyes on me as I pushed the door open to go inside. My heart thudded uneasily. So much for keeping a brave face.

I hesitantly took off my jacket and hung in the hall closet. He only stared at me when we sat down in the living room. I couldn't speak. I worked on memorizing the features of his face once more—my memory had failed in many ways. "How have you been?" he finally asked. I swallowed nervously.

"Fine." I lied. My voice gave it all away and I knew he saw right through it from the flicker in his eyes. He looked sad. "Edward, I…I need to tell you something," I said uneasily. My facial expression was anything put pleasant. He nodded.

"I know." My eyes widened slightly. "Believe me Bella, I know." It wasn't so much the words that he said, but how he said them. He knew. Edward's eyes were on fire.

"Edward, I don't know what to say," I breathed. "You left-and Charlie-and Renee-everything was so-" I was interrupted by a strange hiccupping noise. Then I realized it was me. I was sobbing, trying to get the words out but they just came out to be nonsense.

"Shhh," Edward comforted. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pulled me into his chest. I turned my face into his body. He rocked me back and forth, trying to calm me down, but I couldn't stop. Everything just spilled over. My body shook uncontrollably, unused to the flood of emotion. We sat that way for at least an hour until I stopped crying. I ran my fingers through my hair nervously and looked over at him.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. He shook his head quickly.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." I felt as if I did. I married someone else, when in truth, I belonged to Edward. Every part of me did. "I broke my promise to you, Bella. I will never forgive myself for that."

I sighed and looked up at him.

"What are we going to do?" I whispered. His eyes flashed.

"Keep you safe, that's what we're going to do," he said through his teeth. I stiffened in his arms.

"What are you talking about?" I gasped, my mind suddenly flashed to one of the most terrifying moments of my life—James. This had to have been why he had come back; others were coming.

"I think you know," he said gently. He ran his fingertips over the visible skin of my collarbone. The touch felt magical. I didn't even realize what he was pointing out. When I saw the visible pain in his eyes, it clicked. There must have been a bruise.

"It's not what you think," I whispered, reaching up to pull his hand off of mine. I held it between my palms, and silently commanded my eyes not to tear up, as they were threatening to do. He looked at me oddly.

"Bella, you don't need to pretend with me. You don't need to lie." For an instant, I finally felt a click in my brain. I had known all along that this was bad; my situation wasn't unheard of, but I wasn't doing much to help it. My brain suddenly registered something: trust.

I didn't trust that Edward was here for good. A larger part of me expected him to leave just as soon as I started to feel better. I trusted that I wouldn't have to hide myself from him. I knew I would safe, at least until he left again, if he did.

I didn't say anything, only looked down, afraid to meet his eyes because he knew the truth. He lifted my face up with his index finger and held onto my chin. "I will never let him harm you again."

I sucked in a deep breath, trying to find my voice again. "And…when you leave?" He looked appalled.

"Isabella Marie Swan," he patronized. "I will never leave you again. I will always be here." My mouth hung open and my face crumpled in confusion.

"Why, Edward? If you're so determined to stay now, why did you leave in the first place?" His face hardened and I recognized a familiar glint in his eyes, a cross between anger and sorrow.

"I left to keep you safe," he answered. "I couldn't live with myself if something like…the night of your 18th birthday happened again and I was so sure that the past would only repeat itself if I stayed—" he stopped short and shook his head, appearing as if he were trying to shake the thoughts from his head.

"I thought that if I left you in one piece," he continued, "You wouldn't end up this way, yet when I return, you're worse off than I had ever imagined, broken." I had been fighting the urge to reach out and touch his face, but I lost. Hesitantly, I lifted my hand and pressed it to his cold cheek. My heart thudded and my mind rejoiced. He really was here.

"But I'm not broken," I protested, pressing my hand harder against his skin. He didn't reply to that, only closed his eyes and took slow breaths. I could tell he was going to argue with me again. "For now, Edward, I'm whole."