9

Bella didn't want to go to the bar with everyone. She would have preferred to lock herself up in her bedroom, spend the night sketching, trying to pretend that in less than twenty-four hours her father wouldn't be back in the house across the street, two doors down.

"Knock, knock."

Smiling, Bella looked at the door to her bedroom, where she found Rosalie standing with two dresses in her hands. "Thought you might need something sexy to wear."

"Sexy?" she asked, gesturing for Rosalie to enter. Bella had just gotten out of the shower, making the dash from the bathroom to her bedroom with a towel wrapped around her, when she realized she had nothing nice to wear. She hadn't planned on an evening out with friends. Her only plan had been to sign her father over to a hospice, arrange his funeral, and go back to L.A. "I don't need anything sexy. Just gonna wear jeans and a T-shirt."

"No," Rosalie whined, tossing the two dresses on the bed and grabbing her arms. "Come on, B! Dress up, maybe catch the eye of a hot cowboy, see what happens."

"Ro," she laughed, shaking her head. "I can't even tell you the last time I wore a dress. I'd have to shave my legs, for fuck sake."

"Then you'd better go shave," she snickered, waving her toward the hallway. Rosalie sighed, her lips curving into a smile. "I've missed you, B. I've missed you a lot."

"I've missed you, too." Bella walked over and sat on the side of the bed. "How'd you meet him?"

Rosalie blushed.

"Never thought I would see the day when Rosalie Cullen blushed over a boy."

"Shut up," she laughed, nudging her with her shoulder as she sat on the bed next to her. "I really like him, B. Emmett's . . . Well, he's pretty amazing."

"So where did you meet him?" she pressed.

Rosalie smiled. "We met at the hospital, actually. He works part time in the pharmacy. Every time I saw him, he'd give me that cheeky ass smile of his. He has dimples for fuck sake. Dimples, B," she added with a laugh. "Then one night, Jasper, Jake, Seth, and I went to the bar, and he was there with his brothers, and . . . Well, we danced and drank, and I don't know, B. He just . . ." She bit her lip and looked back at her. "I love him."

"Love?" she gasped. "Rosalie Cullen is in love?"

"I am," she admitted, grinning. "He's . . . Well, hurry and go shave your legs, shove your ass in the blue dress, and you can find out just how amazing he is."

"Okay, okay," Bella said, smiling.

Rosalie hurried to the door, pausing and looking back at her. "It's okay, you know?"

"What's okay?"

"To be sad about your dad, I mean. It's okay to grieve, to be sad, but it's also okay to . . . to live again. I mean, he has Esme now."

Bella bit the inside of her lip as Rosalie walked out of her room, closing the door behind her. Carlisle did have Esme, and Bella? Well, Bella was alone.

—You—

An hour later, Bella had shaven her legs, shoved her ass into the tight blue slip dress, added a pair of black heels that Rosalie also insisted that she wear, and was seated on the couch in the living room, waiting for Rosalie, Jasper, Carlisle, and Esme to finish getting ready. Charlotte had turned in early, though Bella knew she wouldn't be asleep until all of her babies were safely home again. She was a good mother, the kind of mother who loved unconditionally. Might have been the kind of mother Renee would have been had she not died.

"I swear to God Ro and Esme are the slowest women in the fucking planet," Carlisle grumbled as he hurried downstairs. He stopped and looked over at her, his eyes roaming over the little blue dress, his lips curving into a smirk. "Ro got to you, too, I see."

Bella rolled her eyes, pulling the hem of the dress down. "You know how pushy your sister is."

Carlisle laughed and walked over, sitting next to her. "I do."

Bella cross her legs at the knees, placing her hands together. "She seems crazy about Emmett, though."

"She does," he agreed, leaning back and slinging his arm on the back of the couch. "He seems like a nice guy, too. Totally her type."

Bella bit the inside of her lip and nodded.

"I knew this was going to happen," Carlisle whispered, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

"What?" she asked, lobbing her head in his direction.

"You hating me," he said, and once more, she sighed. "I'm selfish, B. I know that, but I . . . I never wanted you to hate me."

"I don't hate you," she grumbled, shaking her head, and when he scoffed, she said, "I don't hate you, Carlisle. I could never hate you. I just . . . You've always been my person, my best friend. You and I . . . We never would have worked, even if she hadn't died."

"Maybe not," he admitted, leaning his forehead on her shoulder. "But I still love you.

"I love you, too," she whispered. "But you get to have the life you deserve, and maybe, this is the life I deserve, too: lost and alone. You get the perfect wife, the beautiful baby, the love you deserve, because you do deserve the perfect wife and a baby and someone who loves you more than anything in the world, Carlisle."

Bella stood up, finding Esme, Rosalie, and Jasper standing at the base of the stairs, clearly having heard their conversation. She wrapped her arms around herself as she walked past them, and out onto the front porch, her eyes automatically turning to the house across the street, two doors down.

An arm wrapped around her waist, and she smiled through the tears as she looked at Esme. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," she whispered. "We can talk everything else out tomorrow. But tonight? Let's just . . . let's just have fun tonight, okay?"

Bella nodded, her eyes shifting back to the house across the street, two doors down. "Yeah, fun."

—You—

The bar turned out to be exactly the kind of place Bella had avoided for the last ten years. It was dark, dank, loud, and full of people drinking cheap beer, a floor covered in peanut shells, and music that made people want to press their bodies together.

Bella had insisted on taking her car, so she had an escape route when things got to be too much. They always got to be too much when she ventured out into places like this. Jasper and Rosalie led the three of them into the bar, straight to a table in the back where Rosalie jumped into Emmett's arms, placing a kiss on his lips, and Jasper swooped Alice into his arms, tendering kissing her. Envy panged in Bella's chest. They were happy and in love and she was alone.

"Bella!" Alice cheered, pulling herself away from Jasper and running over to Bella, throwing her arms around her. "You're here!"

"I am," she laughed, and when Alice stepped backward, she said, "I, um, sorry about last night. I . . . I'm kind of fucked in the head."

"We're all a little fucked in the head," she said, sweetly. "Now, come on. I want you to meet my cousins."

Stifling the urge to roll her eyes, Bella allowed Alice to hold her hand and drag her across the bar to the table in the back, where Carlisle and Esme were now sitting with Rosalie and Emmett, along with a tall, broad shouldered man with dirty blond hair and a beautiful woman with long, silky blond hair. Both had striking blue eyes.

"Bella Swan, this is my cousin, and Emmett's brother, Garrett Masen and his wife Kate. They own the bar. Garrett, Kate, this is Bella Swan, Carlisle Cullen and his wife Esme."

"It's nice to meet you, Bella," Kate said with a smiling as she stood up and stretched her hand out to Bella, but before she could take it, Kate's eyes shifted to someone behind Bella, causing her to tense. "Edward."

Bella spun around, finding Edward standing a few feet behind her. He had his hands shoved into the pockets of a pair of dark slacks, he wore a white button up that he'd left untucked and the sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows. His bright green eyes met hers, and he smiled, fucking smiled and she felt her heart flutter in her chest.

"What are you doing here? Did you follow me?" she asked, sounding more demanding than she intended.

Edward laughed, which annoyed her. "What can I say? I'm in love with you. I need you, I want you."

She clenched her jaw tight before she folded her arms in front of her. "You're not funny."

"Oh, I'm hilarious," he scoffed, still smiling. "Which you would know if you'd had dinner with me."

"I told you I couldn't," she argued, feeling Carlisle and Esme watching her. "I had family plans."

"Now, I know you weren't just blowing me off. Just didn't know your family plans, included my family as well," he said, gesturing to the people behind her. "I'm going to grab a beer. You want one?"

Bella shook her head, and waited until he was walking away before she shot Carlisle and Esme a look and she turned and walked out of the bar, taking a deep breath as the warm air hit her in the face. A hand wrapped around her arm, and when she turned, she found Edward standing behind her.

"Why are you always running?"

"I'm not," she lied. She had spent the last ten years running from her life, running from her father. "Why'd you follow me?"

"You seemed upset," he said, releasing her arm. "I was worried."

"You were worried? About me?"

Edward nodded.

"Why? Because I won't take care of my father? Because I think he deserves to die alone?"

"A little bit," he admitted. "He's your father, Bella. He's dying, and you don't seem to care."

"I don't care?" she scoffed. "You think I don't care about him? If I didn't care, I wouldn't have come back here. You have no idea what he did to me!"

"Then tell me," he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Bella shook her head, tears filling her eyes. "Why? So you can feel pity for me?"

"I just want to understand."

"Understand," she whispered, mostly to herself. "I'd like to understand, too. Understand why he never loved me. Understand how he could . . . how he could his put his hands on me every fucking day of my life. Tell me how stupid and ugly and worthless I was every fucking day."

Edward reached for her hand, but Bella pulled away.

"My father, Edward, was an abusive alcoholic who never forgave me for my mother's death. You see, she was the love of his life, and she died at the age of eighteen, giving birth to me. He was eighteen years old and had a baby that ruined his life, and he never let me forget how I was in his way. By the time I was ten, I'd broken both my arms, my legs, several cracked ribs. He told the doctors I was clumsy. I fell down a lot. Does that help you understand, Edward?"

He simply stared at her.

"Maybe it will help you understand if you knew that after he found out that I was pregnant, he beat me until I was laying on my bedroom floor with blood coming out of my ears. Carlisle snuck me out of that house you're taking him back to, took me to the ER, held me when the doctors told me . . . told me my daughter was dead."

Edward inhaled a sharp breath, but didn't reply.

"Would it help you understand if you knew that because he beat me so severely, I can't have children? He kicked me so hard, he ruptured my uterus, and they had to perform a hysterectomy. I was eighteen years old, and wasn't ready to lose that part of me, Edward. You know where Charlie was while they tore away my womanhood? He wasn't with me. He wasn't holding my hand, telling me how sorry he was for hurting me, for killing my daughter! No, he was inside that house, passed out drunk.

"He is not my family, Edward. My family were the people who held me together every fucking day because my father beat me every fucking day. My family are the people who hid me in closets when it got really bad, and lied to him he came banging on their door, looking for me, who tried to tell everyone that the town's beloved sheriff was child abuser, but nobody believed them, believed me. Because there was no way Charlie Swan would have ever beat his only child. Does that help you understand, Edward, why I can't take care of him?"

Edward didn't say anything as he closed the distance between them, bringing his hands up to her face.

"He never loved me," she whimpered. "Never."

But Edward didn't say a word. No, instead, Edward leaned in and kissed her.

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