This one is a little short, but its intense so it evens itself out nicely, I think. A huge thanks to HollettLA for beta-ing this one. Couldn't have been pleasant, lol. Many hugs.

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There isn't much more for me to say here... you know what's about to happen, so lets get to it, shall we?

I don't own, I just play.

Chapter 20, Face-to-Face

BPOV

The doorman let me up without a second glance or thought. Edward must not have given any instructions for him not to let me up. That was a decent sign, I thought. I had a set of keys burning a hole in my pocket. He had given them to me a while back. I always rang though, never actually needing them in the past. Edward always came to the door to let me in. I had no idea how he would react when he opened that door... hell, I had no idea how I would react!

When the elevator let me out on the penthouse floor, it took several minutes before I had the guts to ring the bell. Eventually, in slow motion, my finger made contact with the white marble buzzer. I stood there, an impossible bundle of nerves for a few minutes, before I rang again. Again, there was no answer. I tried a third time before I reluctantly used my keys. I half expected them not to work. They did.

The first thing I noticed were the floors; they were all stained a deep, deep brown, almost black. The walls were cream, before they had been stark white. A large, round, thick-piled pale yellow carpet was in the middle of they foyer. On it was a round glass table with a tall pillar vase filled with white orchids. Over the table was an extraordinary lantern that looked like the most elaborate piece of origami I had ever seen.

In awe, I made my way quietly through the apartment, not wanting to surprise Edward. Everything was different. The living room, once just a large room with a bar, leather couches and not much else, was now a vision in modern masculinity. A long, dark-gray suede sofa was flanked by two green velvet club chairs. A large Lucite coffee table sat on top of a large light gray wool rug with an intricate green, orange, and blue pattern on it. Above it all, hung various globe lanterns at various heights. The once bare floor-to-ceiling French doors were accented by the thinnest, palest green sheers. The whole thing was stunning.

Thinking he might be in his office, I started in that direction. My feet stopped in front of the dining room, though; it was simply too amazing not to look at. It was still blood red, but painted instead of wallpapered. An impossibly long smoked glass table flanked by clear ghost chairs took up much of the room. Twenty or so small glass vases of various sizes ran down the center of the table, each one held a different green flower, leaf, or bit of vegetation. One wall had a long etched mirror on it. The other side had an equally long rice paper scroll with Japanese calligraphy on it. It was unbelievable.

Moving on, I found his office. Not very much had changed except for a painting hanging behind his desk. It was a man, standing alone on a balcony overlooking a city - I think it was Paris. The man in the suit looked nothing like Edward but I couldn't help but make the comparisons. I suddenly knew exactly where he was.

I made my way to Edward's bedroom where the balcony overlooking the park was. His bedroom had changed, too. I was a little sad about that. Instead of the dark blues, now the walls were covered in some kind of bamboo wallpaper. The bed was just as large, but it was a modern four poster spilling over with white pillows. It was lovely, really. I remembered the first time I looked around his apartment; I couldn't help but think how disjointed and un-Edward it all seemed. Something had changed. I wish it had been me to make his apartment his home - but apparently, it hadn't been. I was ashamed of that.

I looked to the balcony. There he was. In nothing but a pair of boxers, he was leaning on balcony wall, looking out onto the city. I had forgotten exactly how large and powerful he was. I took a deep breath, opened the doors, and froze. Now what?I thought.

EPOV

I'll be honest, I thought she was just another ghost when I saw her... maybe a dream. I turned around; feeling, rather than hearing, someone behind me. Bella's ghost was standing in the doorway, being lit from behind by the lights in the bedroom. Her once vibrantly red, crimson and orange hair looked dull. She seemed so much smaller than I remembered. I huffed and shook my head.

"Jesus, Edward, she's not dead. You've really lost it now. You're seeing ghosts of the living." I said to myself.

"I..."

My head shot up. Ghosts, at least in the past, had never spoken to me.

"I'm not a ghost, Edward."

"Then what are you?" I asked, exhausted.

"I'm just Bella."

"Well, just Bella. What do you want?" I was dreaming. Of course I was. Sleep had been spotty lately. I seemed to be living off of catnaps instead of hours of solid sleep.

"I came to talk to you, Edward. To explain things... to apologize." Yup, I was definitely dreaming.

I walked toward her. The closer I got the more real she seemed. When I was just inches from her, I heard her gasp. Before I knew it, her hand was reaching toward my chest. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to feel her in a dream, but I didn't care. Having her flesh touch mine was exquisite. She ran her pointer finger over my heart, over every line and shadow of my latest ink. It was an exact replica of the skull and flower that Bella had on her back with one exception.

"Your pain, my pain, our pain," she whispered, reverently.

I closed my eyes and let myself really feel her touch. I let the sound of her voice sink into me. Hopefully, when I woke up I'd still remember what she felt and sounded like. When she dropped her arm and her voice stopped echoing in my head, I passed "Bella" and sat on the edge of my bed. I heard something that sounded like tears, like soft sobbing coming from the image in my doorway. I was confused.

As I sat there, watching her shoulders shake slightly from behind, she spoke.

"You won't even speak to me, will you? I've actually ruined it. I ruined it all."

The figure turned to me. There were tears rolling down its face. Dream Bella was legitimately upset.

"Why are you crying?"

Very slowly, she walked toward me. She kneeled in front of me and placed her hands on my knees.

I hadn't had such a horrible dream in years. Why now? I thought. I'd been surviving hadn't I? After my mother left, when I was alone at night again, I hadn't dreamed at all. So why - weeks after mom had gone - was I having problems? When I felt Bella's warm tears on my legs, I knew something was wrong. Nothing felt airy enough. The room around me was heavy. I slowly realized that I wasn't dreaming.

"Bella?"

She just kept crying into my knees. Tentatively, I put my hands on her head.

"Bella. Please stop crying."

She kept at it. Out of nowhere I was pissed. I should be the one crying, not her.

"Bella. Enough!"

She sniffled to a stop and looked up at me.

"Get up off the floor, please." I said firmly.

She stood up.

"Let's go to the kitchen."

I started walking and she followed. Once in the kitchen, I opened the cupboards and started making her a cup of tea, just how she liked it. She sat at the kitchen table and waited for me.

When the tea was ready, I walked to the table, set it down, and sat across from her.

"I'm sorry for my display back there," she said, puffy and red-eyed.

"Are you all right?" I asked calmly, somewhat detached. I couldn't figure out what she was doing in my kitchen again.

"I'm fine. I mean, I'm a wreck, but I'm okay."

"Do you need something, then?"

"Just to talk to you."

"Talk to me?"

"Yes, if you'll let me."

"You kicked me out of your life. You haven't spoken to me, or even let me know that you knew I was alive, for the past few months and now, out of nowhere, you want to speak to me?"

"You're angry."

"I'm confused." Yes, I was angry, too. "Again, why are you here?"

"Don't be angry with her, but Lydia came to see me tonight."

"Why would that make me angry?"

"She told me everything, Edward."

"What does 'everything' mean?" I asked suspiciously.

"She told me how you met. She told me about the institution. She told me..."

"All of it?" My chest tightened.

"Every detail." FUCK!

"It wasn't her story to tell," I said through bared teeth, trying very hard not to flip the table in front of me.

"She was scared for you. She knew you'd never tell and she knew I needed the truth, Edward."

"The truth," I spat. "So now you know I'm not only a sideshow attraction, I'm fucked in the head, too."

"Shut up!" She snapped fervently.

"Did you just tell me to shut up?"

"Yes."

"I love you, but I'm not above tossing you out on your ass right now."

"Jesus, Edward. Enough. I call truce okay? I'm not here to fight with you anymore. I'm here because I made a mistake," she said, sounding as exhausted as I felt.

"What mistake?"

"I should have let you speak. I shouldn't have kicked you out before hearing what you wanted to say to me. I should have given you the time you said you wanted."

I didn't know how to respond.

"Edward, I was wrong. I was scared... terrified actually. I never should have let it escalate to that point, though."

"What could you have possibly been scared of?"

"Your secrets. I was scared that they were more important to you than I was. I felt like I was being cheated on by your past.

"That's so..."

"So?"

"Fucking stupid!"

"Edward, I know that now, but what were you expecting? I fought for us so many times. You yelled and screamed and threw things and I always stood my ground. I never gave up. I had so much fucking faith in us. Then, when I found out what you were keeping from me, I felt so betrayed. It wasn't just a fire, Edward, it was national news. How was I supposed to react?"

"With a little faith," I answered, sadly.

"Edward, I understand now why you didn't tell me after I demanded answers from you. I get it. You thought you were sparing my pain. You thought that hearing the words 'suicide' and 'mental health' were going to shatter me. You may have been right, you may have been wrong. We'll never know now."

The weight of the entire situation lay heavily on my chest.

"I wish..." she continued.

"What?"

"I wish we could go back and do it all over again, you know? We can't. So I'm manning up. I made a mistake. A huge mistake, one that I'll regret forever. That being said, I never would have known that I messed things up if Lydia hadn't come to me and told me everything. In fact, I might not be here now if she hadn't come to me."

"If you're here because you think I'll hurt myself, don't worry about it."

"Christ, Edward." She sounded so exasperated.

"What did I do now?"

"Just enough. Enough. It's exhausting. I don't know how much fight I have left in me. Just drop the act and let me the hell in already. Don't you get it yet? None of it matters as long as you speak to me. You could tell me you were a vampire ready to suck me dry at any moment and it wouldn't matter just as long as I knew."

I didn't answer her. I just let my silence do the talking. My silence said, "Shit, you're right. I've never let you in, not fully. I'm at fault here too, aren't I?"

"Do you want to know why I'm not worried about you hurting yourself?"

I nodded my head, yes.

"Lydia came to me because she saw you turning into one of the ghosts that she thinks you still see. She told me she never worried for you in the past, not really, because you were a fighter. Your anger and passion kept you healthy all these years. Why are you giving up, Edward? Why have you shut down?"

She was asking me as if she knew the answer... like she was waiting for something. I didn't know what she wanted from me, but the image that Lydia had painted of me was miserable. It was really fucking embarrassing.

"So you're here because I'm pathetic." A statement, not a question.

"No. I'm here because I love you. You're not pathetic. I don't pity you. Hell, I'm not even angry. I'm hurting, just like you."

"You love me." Again, a statement, not a question.

"I never stopped."

I didn't know what to say. There was a long silence between us. Two months and I had lost my ability to speak to her. What could I say to match her display of humility? When had I ever been so honest with her? I couldn't think of a single time I had been.
Overwhelmed, I told her about the tattoo. Since I couldn't express myself with words, I fell back to actions. Some said they spoke louder, after all.

"I was sure I would never see you again." I said, steeling my nerves. "I needed something of yours. Something that could never disintegrate. So, I called Garrett days after I got back and had him do this."

She looked at my heart again, at the replica of her tatt on me. She took it in, no doubt reading the words in the banner beneath the skull, again.

"Your pain, my pain, our pain?" she asked, confused.

"I told you once a long time ago, that your pain was my pain. I meant it. When I left you in Santa Fe the only thing I knew for sure was that if nothing else, we would always be connected by our shared grief."

"What a way to start a relationship huh?" She started, not taking her eyes away from my body. "Pain, lies, anger, distrust... fainting." She dropped her head.

"I'll never forget a second of it."

"Not even the last part?"

"Last? It's over then, isn't it?"

She looked up at me. So much doubt and sadness met me.

"I don't want it to be."

"I don't, either," I confessed.

"We've been idiots, you know that?" Looking down at her hands, she was suddenly very interested in the nail on her index finger. When she spoke again, I felt something I hadn't felt since I left Santa Fe... hope. "Edward, the bottom line is I'm just not happy without you. I'm lonely and sad and scared again. I hate it."

It was time to be honest. Time to tell her my fears.

"I don't know who I am anymore, Bella."

"I don't think I do, either," she agreed quickly.

A heavy silence settled over us.

"Where do we go from here?" I asked, completely at a loss.

"I don't know," she said, trying very hard not to cry.

I wanted to reach out to her, hold her hand or something. But I was stuck. Losing the battle with her tears, small droplets rolled down her face.

"I could really use some ice cream right now," she said, her nose getting stuffy.

"All I have is strawberry gelato. My mother loves the stuff."

"It will have to do. This is kind of an emergency." A tiny smile played on her lips.

I nodded and got her the pint from the freezer and a spoon from the drawer. When I handed them to her, our fingers brushed against each other. We didn't move them. Despite the freezing cold pint, we held on, relishing in the only contact we'd had in two months. I didn't know what she was doing when she lowered her head. But when her lips gently kissed my finger, my knees felt weak.

"I'm sorry." She kissed again. "I'm sorry." Another kiss. I couldn't look away and I didn't make her stop. Firstly, it was the only apology I could ever remember getting in my entire life. I was the one who apologized to others, usually. Secondly, it was beautiful, heart breaking, and incredibly erotic all at the same time.

I went to my knees in front of her and stopped her head from kissing my hand again. She looked at me expectantly.

"Can we do things right this time?"

"I don't know how. All I know is what not to do," Bella admitted.

"That's a start."

I put the gelato on the table and took her hands in mine.

"Bella, there are a few things I want to tell you about my past. Things I've been scared to tell you."

"Never be afraid to tell me anything ever again."

I nodded. I think I finally got it.

"My full name is Edward Anthony Masen-Cullen..."

A/N

Aaaaaannnnnnnddddddd... I'm spent. Geez that was almost too much angst for me to handle and its my own damn story!

Thanks, as always, for sticking with me guys. I'd like to mention something that really touches me. A lot of you have mentioned in reviews and pm's how surprised you are that I don't have more reviews. The fandom is a big place and there are lots of stores I feel the same way about. That I have readers that are so invested, does a heart good. It means so much that I have people who look forward to my updates. Oh and also, please feel free to pimp as much as you want. Hehe.

Kisses, hugs, foozles, -Zhiv.

Reviews are like apologies, sometimes tough, sometimes sweet, but always welcomed.