Authors Note:

Just to clarify a few key points: Bella has been drinking water. If she had gone w/o water for the last 3 weeks she would be dead. What she told Edward was that it was starting to be difficult b/c she didn't feel thirsty anymore. This was significant info for Carlisle to portray how sever her condition had become. As he explained to Edward, victims of starvation can become too weak to sense thirst. Bella wasn't quite to that point yet.

* All my criers out there ~ get your tissues ready. *

Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns Twilight. While I borrowed several obvious quotes from her books, no plagiarism is intended.

EPOV

"I don't know what kind of sick, twisted little game you think you're playing, but it's going to stop right now," Jacob snarls, his face inches from mine.

I can feel the anger radiating off him as he pins me against the wall of the house. The hand wrapped around my throat tightens, but I have enough sense not to struggle. It would be pointless against his firm grip, and doing so might only enrage him further. As irate as he is, I'm lucky he didn't just punch me again. I've already bled enough for one day.

"I – I – don't know – what you're talking about," I manage to press out. Apparently, that isn't what he wants to hear. With another shove, he slams my body against the wall with a resounding thud.

"I warned you, if you ever hurt her again, I would kill you. Did I not make myself clear the last time? Was my right hook too subtle for you? You just assume because I'm a good dancer that I can't kick your worthless ass?"

I try to keep my voice calm as I stare into his wild, animalistic eyes. "Jacob, I'm – I'm trying to – help her."

Jacob groans and abruptly releases his hold on me, causing me to stumble forward. I cough and rub my throat. From the corner of my eye, I see him step back, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. I bend forward, holding myself up with my hands on my knees, panting as if I have just run a marathon.

"Shut up. Just shut up," he snarls through gritted teeth. "God! I want to beat the shit out of you so bad right now."

"That's what she made you promise, isn't it?" I ask, still breathless but a little smug. "That you wouldn't punch me again?"

"I promised I wouldn't deck you this time, not that I wouldn't kill you. She always forgets the fine print." I don't have to look up to see the evil smirk I'm sure is plastered across his face.

Having somewhat caught my breath, I straighten up and turn to face him, holding my hands out submissively. Jacob is pacing angrily across the porch now, his eyes focused straight ahead, but unseeing.

"Jacob, I just want to help her."

My words do nothing to slow his enraged pacing, and for a moment I wonder if he even heard what I said.

"I should have never let you out of my sight last night you lying son of a bitch," he fumes. "You said you were going to leave."

"That was my intention, but when I went to my room, she was there."

Jacob shakes his head, still refusing to look at me. "You're so full of shit it's unbelievable. I was with her, remember? She was asleep when I left her room last night."

"I don't know what happened. She must have woken up and snuck into my room while we were all downstairs. She said she's been having trouble sleeping. Maybe she sleeps better in our bed than hers."

Jacob halts in his tracks, whirling around to face me with wide eyes. "Our bed!"

I sigh. "My bed," I correct unwillingly. "Bella has spent more nights in my room than her own. It just seems logical that she'd be more comfortable there."

"Whatever," he grumbles, looking away from me again. "You should have left her alone."

"I considered that, but I needed to see her for myself. I needed to see that she was OK."

Jacob takes a step toward me. "She's not OK!"

"I know," I agree solemnly.

Jacob resumes his pacing, but his fury seems to have subsided a little. I jump at the opportunity to justify myself.

"She woke up," I begin. "And we just started talking. She told me things, things she hasn't told you, or Carlisle, or anyone. And when she told me she couldn't sleep, I gave her a sleeping pill. Well, I thought it was a sleeping pill, but it's actually one of the medications that Carlisle has been trying to get her to take. When I offered it to her, she took it. Carlisle thought that was a good sign. He told me I still had some kind of bond with her, that she trusts me."

Jacob huffs, but I ignore it.

"Carlisle asked me to try again, to talk to her again, and see if I could get her to take the other medication she's been refusing. Believe me, I thought he was completely crazy, but I had to try. I have no idea what I said to her to make her change her mind, but it worked."

"You have no idea what you said!"he seethes.

I flinch, surprised by his hostile outburst.

"Allow me to enlighten you," he says harshly, taking an aggressive step toward me. "How about that you care about her, that you'll be there for her, that you'll be the one to help her through this. Or maybe you can't live in a world where she doesn't exist. Any of that ring any bells?"

"Yeah, I said that," I answer, the confusion clear in my voice. "I don't see what's wrong with -"

"I'm not going to let you do this to her!" he explodes. "I don't care how she justifies it to herself; I won't let you manipulate her like this again."

Manipulate? A second later his words click into place in my mind. Bella still thinks I'm helping her for my benefit. And from her point of view – believing that and not knowing the truth – of course she would think my words were anything but sincere.

Ashamed, I hang my head and stare at the floor. "You're right," I confess. "It's just so easy to fall back into how we were before, to be myself around her. I forget that it's not like that anymore."

"That's right. It's not like that. Not now, not ever."

"I don't want that," I say softly.

"I don't give a shit what you want."

I take a step toward him, holding my hands up as if to beg him to understand. "Jacob, everything I said to her today was the truth. I do care about her, I will be there for her, and I will help her through this. You have to believe that everything I've done was because I truly believed it was what was best for her."

"Sure, sure, and cheating on her was completely in her best interest," he says sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

I shake my head. I'm a fool if I think Jacob will accept the truth that easily. "I never cheated on her," I confess.

"Fine. Call it whatever you want."

He isn't getting it; he isn't listening. I'm going to have to spell it out for him. "Jacob, I never cheated on her. There is no one else. There never was."

Jacob stares at me for a moment, and then shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts. "What? What are you talking about?"

"I lied."

Jacob steps toward me, and I can see the rage building in his eyes again. "You lied!"

"Yes, I lied. Nothing happened when she was gone. That was all bullshit."

"What - why? Why would you do that?" Jacob raises his hands to his temples, pressing them firmly to his head as if it's about to explode. "What, it wasn't enough for you just to break her heart; you needed to completely destroy her too?"

I wince, squeezing my eyes shut for a second. When I open them again, Jacob is still staring at me, waiting for my explanation.

Suddenly, his tone becomes resigned, and he drops his hands to his sides. "If you didn't want to be with her anymore, why didn't you just say that?"

"Because that's not the truth either," I admit firmly.

Jacob throws his hands in the air again, but the gesture is now one of frustration. He turns his back to me as he begins to pace. "I'm beyond confused. I don't understand why you would do this to her."

"Because she would be better off without me."

Jacob shakes his head. "You're going to have to do better than that."

I take another deep breath, trying to decide where to start. I don't have to think about it long; it's the exact place I should have started with Bella.

"Before Bella came here, I was a complete mess. I had been for years. To say I was completely out of control is the understatement of the century. I mean, it started off pretty mild: shoplifting, cutting school, sneaking out, that kind of stuff. It was like the more furious it made my parents, the more I wanted to do it."

While I ramble, I wander over to the porch stairs and sink down onto the top step, leaving Jacob standing behind me.

"Things just kept getting worse," I continue. "I started getting into fights, getting suspended, getting arrested…"

To my surprise, Jacob moves into my line of sight and sits down next to me, mimicking my position. I glance at him, studying his reaction. He seems completely engrossed in my story.

"Arrested for?" he prods with a wave of his hand.

"Trespassing, breaking and entering, vandalism, physical assault - "

"I get the picture," he interrupts.

"That was only the beginning." I look down at my hands and begin fiddling with my bandaged fingers as I continue. "I partied all the time. I started drinking every weekend, I slept with a different girl almost every night, and I picked up a nice little coke addiction to complete the package," I say critically. "It went on for a while, and I had no intention of stopping. And then, one night, I got so fucked up that I slammed my car into a guardrail on Interstate 5."

Jacob glances toward my car automatically. "No, not that one," I explain. "It was a Volvo. Same color as my BMW, but smaller. I totaled it, of course. Kinda wish Carlisle would have gotten me another one instead of bringing home that thing," I jerk my head toward my car, "but he was all about airbags, and safety ratings, and re-enforced steel framing after the accident, so I guess…," I let my words trail off.

"What?" Jacob asks.

I huff. "Well, I never really thought about it before." I jerk my head toward my car again. "Carlisle knew how much I liked my Volvo. When he came home with that thing, I just thought he was doing it to aggravate me or something."

"So he got you that car because he wanted to keep you safe," Jacob clarifies.

"Yeah, I guess so. I just didn't see it that way back then."

Silently, I begin to consider what else I may have misinterpreted over the last few months – years even. No doubt there were other times my anger prevented me from seeing the true motives behind Carlisle's words or his actions.

"Just be thankful you didn't end up with a Hummer… or a tank," Jacob says. We both chuckle quietly.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. But I did like that Volvo. It saved my life. They think I was going close to ninety when I hit the barrier."

"Shit," Jacob mumbles. "How are you not dead?"

I shake my head. "No idea. I had been on a two day bender, so I don't remember much. I woke up in the hospital a few days after the accident completely busted up. I broke my arm, a couple of ribs; Emmett said my entire body was purple from all the cuts and bruises."

"So what happened?"

"Well, I added a felony to my record - possession of a controlled substance. Carlisle and his team of lawyers managed to keep me out of jail, but I'm still serving two years' probation. I have to report every month for drug screenings, and if I screw up again, I'm royally fucked."

Jacob looks away, staring at the ground as he processes what I've said.

"Jacob, you had to know something of my past. Did you ever say anything about it to Bella?"

"All I knew was that you had a reputation. I didn't know the details. I warned her once, when I first saw you two together, that she should be careful, but that was it. She doesn't know any of this." Jacob lets out a small chuckle. "She was so in love with you, I could have said you had two heads and she wouldn't have cared."

His use of the past tense stings. She was…

"OK, so you've got a sordid past," he says, shrugging his shoulders casually. "What does that have to do with Bella?"

"After the accident, when I was charged, Esme was still in negotiations for her book. That was part of the incentive to keep me out of jail. They had to ensure her publishers never learned about my felony. They wouldn't have allowed her book to be published if they thought her son could be the source of some scandal. They had to protect her public image and all that."

I twist my body toward Jacob, hoping he can read the sincerity in my expression as my words come out in a rush. "I didn't know about any of this. Carlisle only told me a few weeks ago. Had I known it could happen to Bella, I would have stayed away. I would never have put her though this."

"Had you known what could happen to Bella?" Jacob asks, confused.

"That it would be the same for her, that if she were to tie herself to me, my reputation could destroy her career."

Jacob's eyebrows knit together. "How?"

"What do you mean how?" I fume, annoyed by his questions. "Don't you get it? My bad decisions almost destroyed my mother's career, and if Bella and I are together, I will do the same to hers."

He shakes his head. "No. I mean yeah, I get that part. But that doesn't really apply anymore."

"You don't think she's going to be able to recover from this?" I ask unnerved. "You don't think she'll be able to continue dancing?"

Jacob shakes his head even harder than before. "No, no. That's not what I'm saying. For one thing, it's not really like that anymore. I mean, maybe it is in some of the major dance companies. I guess if she was being considered for some of the most coveted positions, then yeah, you might cause some problems. But, I mean, since she's accepted the apprenticeship, that's not really the case. Victoria wouldn't take that away."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Bella's job. The apprenticeship," he says with a shrug as if the information is old news.

I shake my head. "She turned it down."

"No she didn't."

"Yes she -" I hold my hands up to stop the back and forth before it gets any more ridiculous. "The day before she left for Florida she turned down a job. From what Carlisle said, it was a very prestigious offer, some kind of lead choreography position or something."

"Oh, yeah," Jacob says as the pieces fall into place. "Yeah, she turned down that job." He makes a face as if the idea of her having made any other decision is revolting. Once he composes himself, he notices my confused expression.

"It was a lead choreography position… with the upcoming Britney Spears world tour. It would have been horrible for her. She would have spent eight months living out of hotels, dancing the same hip-hop routines night after night. Sure the money was good, freaking awesome, and she could totally do the job, but that's not the kind of dancing either of us want to do. And if she had taken it, she would have been classified as a hip-hop choreographer for the rest of her life."

Jacob stares at me, puzzled. "She's been getting about four or five offers like that a month. They've been pouring in ever since she did that video. Britney was the biggest, of course, but still."

"But I saw her when she was on the phone. I had no idea who she was talking to, but she seemed upset."

"Well, yeah. She was probably starting to think that's all that was out there for her. I know I would start to feel that way."

"How did I not know about any of this? She never told me she was getting job offers."

"Probably because Victoria handled most of them. Britney's people were pushier than the others; they wouldn't deal with Victoria and wanted to speak to Bella directly. But Victoria handled the rest. Think of it this way, you don't tell Bella every time a telemarketer calls and tries to sell you something. It's like that - same thing." He shrugs.

"Ah, I don't think that's quite the same thing, Jacob."

"OK, yeah, maybe that's a bad analogy, but you see what I mean. It wasn't a big deal. She probably didn't give it a second thought."

"Then what job are you talking about?" I ask.

"Three weeks ago, Victoria offered her a position with the Academy."

I stare at him for a moment, completely stunned. Jacob must interpret my silence as confusion.

"The Washington Academy of Performing Arts, where we're in school." he clarifies, looking at me like I'm dense.

"I know that," I say defensively. "What – what position?"

"The Academy has been putting together an undergrad degree program. They start offering courses next fall. Victoria is heading it up. They offered Bella a full-ride - a four year scholarship to get her Bachelors in Fine Arts and an instructor position with the Academy when she graduates. She's going to be Victoria's apprentice and actually help define some of the undergrad curriculum. Then, when Victoria retires in a few years, Bella will take over as her successor. The job also guarantees her a principle position with Washington Center of Performing Arts. She's going be one of their lead soloists."

"She accepted?"

"Hell yeah she did!" he booms. "She'd be insane to turn it down."

"Wow," I breathe. I stare straight ahead, feeling overwhelmed with pride for what she's accomplished. I'm sure I'm grinning like an idiot, but I don't care. All her hard work, all her years of sacrifice, is finally being rewarded. She earned this. She deserves this. "That's just… wow. I can't believe she didn't…"

I can feel the smile fade from my face, and I don't need to finish the thought. I know why she didn't tell me. I wasn't around.

As reality seeps back in, my mind begins to swim, and I can't focus on one thought long enough to process it before another shoves it out of the way.

Bella isn't leaving Seattle.

There is no reason why we can't be together.

My reputation isn't going to ruin her future.

There is no reason for us to be apart anymore.

She is going to have the life she always wanted.

We could have a life together.

"So you broke up with her for her own good," Jacob clarifies, interrupting my reeling thoughts.

I nod, silently cursing him for reminding me. We won't have a life together because we aren't together. Bella hates me. I've destroyed everything – every chance of getting her back.

"And you lied and told her you met someone else," he continues, unknowingly assaulting me with his words.

I nod again.

"Why didn't you just tell her the truth?"

"You know Bella as well as I do, Jacob. If I had told her the truth, told her what my reputation could do to her career, what do you think she would have done?"

Jacob considers my question for a moment. "Yeah, I see your point. The girl is a martyr."

"So I had to convince her she didn't want to be with me."

"Well, mission accomplished," he says spitefully.

I try not to groan out loud.

"So what about the whole make-nice-with-the-girl-next-door bit? That's all crap too?"

I cringe. "Yes and no."

"No!"

"After the accident, I went on this crusade to prove to my parents that I had changed, and that I was sorry for all I'd done to them. But no matter what I did, Carlisle wouldn't let go of his resentment toward me. When I met Bella, I thought if Carlisle saw me with someone like her then maybe he'd see me differently. It was a stupid plan, and I quickly realized it would never work, but when I ended it with her, I twisted the story around to make it seem like it was the foundation for our whole relationship. I thought it was a good idea at the time. I thought it would be an easy way to make her hate me, since it wasn't far from the truth, because – because I couldn't tell her I didn't want to be with her anymore. I couldn't tell her I didn't love her. I couldn't do that. I'll never be able to do that."

"So how did the new girlfriend get thrown in there?"

"Bella didn't believe me. At least, that's what she said at the time. She wasn't going to let me go. I could see that. So I panicked and blurted out the first thing that popped into my head. It was never my intention to do that, to lie like that. I didn't want to do that — it felt like it would kill me to do it — but when I saw the look on her face, I knew she believed it. It was all I had to go on, so I ran with it."

Jacob doesn't say anything for several minutes. He continues to stare straight ahead, likely processing everything I've told him. "So, for the most part, it was all bullshit?" he finally asks.

"Yes, Jacob."

"This is seriously fucked up," he mumbles, still staring off into the distance.

"I know."

Jacob blinks, and his posture seems to relax a little as he twists his body toward me. "I'm not saying what you did was right. Your logic was completely fucked up, but given the information you had at the time… I guess - well, I guess I can see why you thought you needed to do it."

I roll my eyes. "Thanks, I think."

We are both silent again, and I can feel Jacob's eyes on me. No doubt he can see that I'm trying to work up the courage to ask him something – to ask him the question that has been burning in my mind since the moment I broke her heart.

"Jacob, do you think she will ever forgive me?" I ask, glancing at him cautiously.

He shrugs. "I don't know, maybe, maybe not." Jacob seems to consider my question again. "I don't see how you'll ever regain her trust. You do realize you've been lying to her since the beginning?"

Hopelessness washes over me, and I look away as my throat tightens in response.

"You still love her," he says softly.

My head whips back to glare at him. After everything I just told him, how could he question that? "Of course I do," I defend. "She's everything to me. Nothing will change that."

Jacob sighs. "All you can do is talk to her. You have to tell her all of this; she deserves to know the truth regardless. But, honestly, I really don't think she's in the right frame of mind to hear it right now."

"No, I completely agree. The first priority is for her to get well. That's why I haven't said anything -"

"Yes, you have," he interrupts. "You just don't realize you're doing it. That's why she called me tonight. That's why she's so upset. Not because she couldn't eat today, because of you. You're messing with her head, sending her mixed signals. She thinks you have a girlfriend, that you don't love her, but then you go and tell her 'you can't live in a world where she doesn't exist,' and that you are going to be there to help her though all this. It doesn't add up in her mind."

"I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to protect her, to not hurt her anymore. I thought it was too risky to tell her the truth right now when she's already dealing with so much. I thought it could upset her more, make this whole mess worse."

"I get it, and you're probably right to some extent, but it can't go on like this much longer. Not if you truly want to help her. She's terrified that if she lets her guard down, if she lets you back in, she won't be able to survive it."

I hold my head in my hands, pressing the heel of my palm firmly against my eyes to hide the agony I'm sure is radiating from my expression.

Jacob's strong hand squeezes my shoulder. "She does still love you."

Shocked, I turn to face him. "How do you know?"

Jacob smiles sympathetically at me. "She says it in her sleep."

The front door opens, and light from inside the house sweeps over us like the blinding beam from a lighthouse. We both turn to see Carlisle standing in the doorway, his silhouette outlined in the glow. He steps out onto the porch, thankfully pulling the door closed behind him. As he takes in the scene before him - the two of us seated together, Jacob's hand on my shoulder, comforting me - it's clear in his expression that whatever he was expecting to find out here, this isn't it.

Carlisle stumbles over his words. "Um… Bella is asking for you, Jacob. She wants to know if you'll stay with her tonight."

Jacob nods, and then looks back to me. He smiles sadly, pats my shoulder twice, and then pushes off me to stand up. I listen as his footsteps retreat into the house, and the door closes gently behind him. For a brief second, I assume I'm alone. Then, from the corner of my eye, I see Carlisle take the seat Jacob just occupied.

"The IV is setup and everything looks good so far," he reports.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you."

"Oh, no, that's all right. Actually, it gave me and Bella an opportunity to talk." Carlisle nervously twists his hands in front of him. "She told me what you did for her today."

"She's probably pretty annoyed with me."

"No… well, maybe a little." Carlisle chuckles. "She said you wouldn't put up with any of her… crap."

I try to smile, but it fades quickly.

"She told me you were always coming to her rescue, so she wasn't surprised when you… how did she put it… materialized last night."

Bewildered, I turn my head and stare at him. "She said I was always coming to her rescue?" I repeat, clearly confused.

"She said you took care of her, that you were always there when she needed you the most."

I look away again, shaking my head. After everything I've done to her, how could she possibly think that way?

"Some knight in shining armor I turned out to be," I mumble under my breath.

Carlisle's tone becomes serious, "Edward, when she speaks of you, it's like she's talking about someone who died. Not someone who merely… left her."

I feel that too familiar lump begin to tighten in my throat again. "That's because I am dead to her."

"I think that's a bit melodramatic, even for you, Edward," he scolds.

"Not really. You just don't know the whole story."

"Care to enlighten me?"

I take a deep breath and exhale loudly. I'm not sure how much I want to tell him. It's repulsive to me to think how many people will know the truth now - everyone but the one person who needs to hear it the most. But my masochistic nature wins out, and for the second time tonight, I reveal how I walked away from my only reason for existing.

I tell Carlisle the entire story, every facet of the lies I constructed to push Bella away and why I felt the need to do it like that. But Carlisle doesn't know her the way Jacob and I do, so I'm forced to go back even further. When I begin to explain how selfless she is, when I start talking about the amazing person I've come to know and the impact she's had on my life, I can't force myself to stop.

I tell Carlisle everything, pouring my heart and soul out to him. I expose every thought, every emotion, every moment of my time with Bella. It all flows from me without restraint.

The words catch in my throat as I reach the end of my story. I struggle as I recall my time at Jasper's and how it felt being apart from her. Then, in graphic detail, I explain everything I saw, everything I said, and everything I felt last night when I discovered what had happened to Bella while I was gone. When I begin to retell the events of this morning - how I almost walked out on her again - the tightness in my throat makes it almost impossible to speak.

I explain, as best I can, the moment that everything changed for me. How I realized that even when I was trying to be good and repent for my mistakes, when I thought I had turned my life around, that I had never let go of my anger and resentment. I describe how that realization came to me so clearly, and how I made the decision to let it go – to not to be that monster anymore.

My story shifts focus again, back to Bella. I explain how she broke down this morning, again and again, and that she seemed resigned to let her depression have her. I describe the desolate look in her eyes and how I feared telling her the truth now would only make it worse.

"So Bella still has no knowledge of your prior substance abuse or your probation?" Carlisle asks, disbelief seeping into his expression and his tone.

I shake my head.

Carlisle places a steaming cup of tea on the table in front of me. Over the course of our two-hour conversation – well, monologue as I did all the talking – the temperature had dropped outside, forcing us to retreat to the kitchen. I wrap my fingers around the mug to warm them, the heat barely seeping though the bandages on my right hand. Carlisle takes the seat next to me at the head of the table, placing his own cup in front of him.

"I had no idea. I thought – well, I thought you had told her about your past and that had ended your relationship."

"No, not even close. Like I said, I started to tell her the truth today, but I thought it was too risky when she's already dealing with so much. I thought it would make this whole mess worse if I upset her more."

"I can see why you might think that, but I don't necessarily agree. I don't believe either of you will truly begin to heal until this is resolved. You need to talk to her, tell her the truth."

"I can't talk to her about this now. Even Jake thinks that she's not ready to hear it."

Carlisle sighs and shakes his head. "I don't agree, but you know her better than I do, so I'll leave the final decision up to you. I think this has gone on long enough, and once you see how much better she feels tomorrow, I hope you'll reconsider."

I nod, and Carlisle takes a sip of his drink. We are both silent for several minutes, and I'm sure Carlisle is processing everything I just unloaded on him.

"I wish," he says softly. "I mean, had I known… I just…"

I glance up at Carlisle. I have never seen him at a loss for words before. For a moment he won't meet my gaze, staring down at his cup as he visibly tries to collect his thoughts. Finally, he lifts his eyes to meet mine, and from the emotion I see in them, I know what he's going to say before he opens his mouth.

"I'm so sorry, Son. I had no idea," he shakes his head, "no idea how hard you were struggling after the accident. I wish you could have talked to me, but I had already shut you out, hadn't I? I'm so sorry. I should have been there for you." Carlisle looks down at his cup again. "I owe that girl more than I'll ever know," he mumbles to himself.

My eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What?" Surely I didn't hear him correctly.

Carlisle eyes snap to mine again. "Don't you see? You practically said so yourself. Bella was the one to make you whole again."

I look down at the table. I'm sure his words were meant to be comforting, but they only serve to twist the knife deeper into my chest. I would never be whole again.

Carlisle pushes his cup aside and leans toward me, his hand resting gently on my arm. "Edward, when you were a young boy, you always acted like - like you felt as if you were a guest in our home, that being with us was only temporary. As you got older, you distanced yourself even further. And then Bella came to live with us. At the time, I didn't understand what brought about the change in you, but I did see it. Looking back now, it was so obvious."

"Listening to you talk about her tonight, seeing how hard you're fighting for her, how deeply you feel for her, I see it so clearly now. She was the part of you that has been missing all these years. She showed you that, though no one can replace your parents, you can love again. Esme and I, we tried to show you that all these years, that we love you, Edward. You are our son, just as if you had been born to us. Nothing will ever change that. But it didn't matter how much we tried, it wasn't until those missing pieces of your heart were returned to you that you could start to heal. That girl upstairs, she gave me my son back. She has made you whole again. She has made this family complete."

I pull my arm from under Carlisle's grasp and cover my eyes with the heel of my hands. I try to hold back the flood of emotions his words bring on, but it's too much. Everything I repressed throughout this exhaustive day comes crashing down on me. And when my chest heaves with the first deep sob, I let go.

I don't hear Carlisle stand up from his seat, and I barely register as he pulls me up from mine. When his arms wrap around me, I crumple against his chest and allow my father to console me. For the next several minutes, I lean against him, unable to pull myself together as I cry harder than I ever have in my entire life.

"I'm so sorry, Edward. I've failed you in every way imaginable. Just when you started to turn your life around, I ripped your salvation from you. I hope you understand that, at the time, I was acting in what I thought was Bella's best interest. When I discovered you were together, I honestly believed it was another one of your rebellious antics to incite another war between us. Even when you told me that was untrue, I didn't believe you. I just saw you dragging that poor girl into our mess, and I refused to allow that to happen. It's no excuse, but you must see that your behavior up into that point had not led me to see it any differently. I had been completely blinded by my anger over your disobedience in the past that I couldn't see beyond it. I couldn't see how much you've changed, how good Bella was for you. I didn't see it… until it was too late. I was wrong, so very wrong."

I let out a shaky breath. "I am - so sorry for all the stupid things I've done. For everything. I never meant to - I never wanted to hurt anyone. I had no idea I was - that I would - I'm so sorry."

Carlisle grips my shoulders and pushes me back, forcing me to look at him. Even as he shakes his head, I can see the shimmer of unshed tears in his eyes. "That's all behind us now."

"But I was so stupid - so stubborn. All you wanted to do was help me, and I fought you every step of the way. I'm – I'm so sorry."

"I forgave you, Edward, a long time ago. That's all over now."

"But you and Esme – you didn't deserve this. I've put you through hell. How – how can you just let it go?"

"Because you are our son," he says firmly. "We love you. I love you. Don't ever forget that. Nothing will ever change that."

"I – I love you too."

Carlisle's lips curve into a sad smile, and he pulls me to him again. For the first time, I return his embrace, and I allow his words to absolve me of the guilt and shame that have been pressing down on me for far too long.

Several minutes pass as I stand wrapped in the comfort of my father's arms. The unexpected sound of a key turning in the lock breaks the silence. Carlisle stiffens slightly as the front door opens, and I don't need to lift my head to know who has joined us.

"It's all right," Carlisle says, but not to me.

I listen to the unmistakable sound of bags being dropped on the wood floor and the click of Esme's heels as she crosses the living room. When she reaches us, I feel her small hand brush lightly across my back.

"It's OK. Everything's all right," Carlisle repeats.

I lift my head then, turning to look at Esme. The worried expression on her face intensifies as she stares at my tear-streaked cheeks. She glances quickly between Carlisle and me, her eyes asking a thousand silent questions as she studies us. I disentangle myself from my father and throw my arms around her.

"Oh," she gasps, clearly startled by my sudden embrace.

"Thank you," I mumble, my words muffled against her shoulder. "Thank you for loving me."

"Oh, sweetheart," Esme chokes. "We do. We love you… so much."

A strong hand touches my head and then squeezes my shoulder. I lift my face just as Carlisle gently kisses the top of Esme's head, his other arm wrapped securely around her waist.

"Please don't cry," I beg as the tears stream down her face.

Esme laughs through her tears, reaching up to stroke away the moisture from my cheeks. She glances back and forth between me and Carlisle for a moment, still holding my face in her hands. "And to think," she says teasingly, "I've spent the last five hours on a plane planning out how to murder you both in your sleep, only to walk in the door and find… this."

We all chuckle.

~o0o~

BPOV

I'm thankful Jake agreed to stay with me last night. He probably sensed I didn't want to be alone, even before I asked him to.

The IV doesn't bother me at all. I had one when I got my tonsils out, so I know what to expect. What I don't expect is how much better I feel this morning. I wake up with a burst of energy, feeling as if I could spend hours in the studio or throw on my sneakers and go for a run. When I mention these ideas to Carlisle, I get a stern look in response. He pulls the needle from my hand, covering the spot where it pierced my skin with a small bandage, and restricts me to my bed for the rest of the day.

"Let's see how today goes," he says. "Then we can discuss how much exercise you should be getting right now when we meet with Dr. Weber tomorrow morning."

There's a faint knock, and we all turn to see Edward standing in the doorway. He's wearing a dark grey sweatshirt. One hand is buried in the front pocket, and the other holds a shot glass.

"Thank you, Son," Carlisle says as he takes the glass from him and turns back toward me.

He holds the glass out to me, the look on his face silently asking if I'm ready to try again. I take the glass, noticing for the first time that it's not the same muted pink color as the day before.

"What is this?" I ask, studying the thick, white liquid.

"Angel Food," Edward says, still lurking just inside the door. "I thought you might like something different today."

He's right. Although the smoothie yesterday did taste good, just the thought of having to gulp down any more of that fruity flavor makes the bile rise in my throat.

"Ah," Carlisle breathes, glancing back to Edward. "I was wondering where you disappeared to this morning. That was a good idea."

Edward simply shrugs and glances sheepishly at the ground.

I swallow the small drink quickly. The light, vanilla flavor is a welcome change. "Thanks," I say softly, licking my lips to savor the taste. Edward's eyes snap up. "It's really good. That was very… considerate."

For a split second, a hopeful expression sweeps across Edward's face before he glances at his father. I follow his gaze to see Carlisle smiling back at his son.

Damn it! How does he do that! Once again, he's got me playing right into his scam, and he doesn't even seem to be trying.

Carlisle returns his focus to me. "Now, Bella, I'm certain today will be better than yesterday, but I don't want you to feel discouraged if it takes us a few tries."

I nod, and for some reason Carlisle looks to Edward again as if he's seeking his understanding as well. Edward just glances at the floor, shoving his free hand into the pocket of his sweatshirt.

"Don't hesitate if you need anything," Carlisle says, walking to the door. "We'll just be downstairs." He pauses and grips Edward's shoulder, forcing him to look up. They stare at each other for a second before Edward nods solemnly and follows after Carlisle as he leaves the room.

I guess this means the babysitting duties are now relinquished to Jake, who seems all too comfortable snuggled under my covers, watching some lame reality show on Edward's laptop. I wish he would have paid closer attention to the odd exchange that just took place. Then I wouldn't be wondering if I read too much into it.

Stupid Bella. Of course I read more into it. Edward probably couldn't stomach another day with me anyway. He probably spent most of last night wishing he could pour bleach into his brain to wash out the images of my digestive pyrotechnics. And surely his girlfriend isn't too thrilled he spent his entire Saturday stuck at home with…

"Whatever you are thinking about you need to stop."

I raise my head from where it's nestled comfortably on Jake's chest to look at him. "How did you know?"

He smirks. "I know you."

I lay my head back down and refocus on the screen, forcing my mind to concentrate on the program and nothing else. "What is this show about again?" I ask after a few minutes.

"Crab fishermen on the Bering Sea. It's the most dangerous job on earth."

Sure enough, just as Jake utters the words, a huge wave washes over the bow of the ship, sweeping the entire crew off their feet. The dialog is completely obscured with a long 'beeeeep' as the Captain hurls an endless, profanity-laced order for his crew to secure the equipment as it slides across the deck.

"The most dangerous job on earth, huh?" I repeat. "Evidently they've never tried dancing in six inch hooker heals."

Jacob laughs, causing my head to bounce on his chest. "You're a terrible pillow," I scold as I try to move away from him, but the arm wrapped around my back just holds me tighter.

"Jake! Let me go!" I try harder to wiggle out from his grasp, but he only laughs at my weak attempt to free myself. I reach behind his head and grab hold of my pillow, yanking it out from under him. His head falls back in the same instant, and I swiftly whack his face with my weapon.

"Oh, now you've done it, Swan!" In one quick movement, Jake places Edward's laptop on the floor, and then flips me on my back. He straddles my legs, pinning me underneath him as he ruthlessly tickles my sides.

"No! Jake, stop!" I squeal between fits of laughter.

He doesn't stop, digging his fingers deeper into my ribs. "Say you're sorry," he demands.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I'm laughing so hard now I can barely press out the words.

"Tell me how handsome I am."

I giggle uncontrollably. "You could be a model!"

He merely slows his assault but doesn't stop. "Say I'm the greatest dancer alive."

I pretend to consider his command for a moment. "Eh, I wouldn't go that far," I tease. This brings on a whole new round of attacks.

Jake doesn't let up his childish tickling, and I continue to hit the side of his face, his chest, his body, anywhere I can reach with my pillow.

Someone clears their throat and we both freeze, staring at each other with wide eyes as if we've just been caught doing something terribly mischievous. I turn my head in the direction of the sound to see Edward leaning against the door frame, holding another shot glass in his hand. The right side of his mouth is turned up in that glorious crooked grin that made my heart melt all those weeks ago.

"I could come back if you two want to be alone," he teases.

"Nah," Jake says as he rolls off of me. "I'm done with this one. I think she's learned her lesson."

Once I'm free from his grasp, I sit up and try to tame my hair back from my face. I'm sure it's a tangled mess after Jake's vicious attack.

Edward shoves off the door and walks over to me, keeping one hand in his pocket as he hands the shot glass to me. I stare at him, confused. "But… it's not time yet."

"Bella, it's been over an hour."

I glance at the clock. He's right. "But that means… I didn't get sick."

Edward smiles proudly. "No, you didn't."

I look back and forth from him to Jake a few times, both of them grinning down at me as they stand beside my bed. As the realization finally sinks in, I'm sure my idiotic grin matches theirs.

I take the glass from Edward and drink the slimly liquid quickly, handing the empty glass back to him. He can't seem to wipe the smirk from his face or tear his eyes away from mine.

"Jacob, Es – ah, my mom, has breakfast ready downstairs if you're hungry," Edward says.

"Esme?" I repeat. She isn't due back from New York until the day after tomorrow.

"She caught the red-eye after her meeting last night. She got home about one this morning."

"I hope she didn't change her plans because of me," I confess. After everything Carlisle has already done for me, I already feel like enough of a burden on this family without tacking on a cancelled business trip.

Edward shrugs. "I think they got everything done ahead of schedule."

"You'll be ok if I go?" Jake asks.

"I can stay with her," Edward offers, still staring intently at me. "If that's OK with you?"

I nod, automatically, before actually thinking about what I'm agreeing to.

Edward glances at Jake then, breaking the hypnotic spell that his stare has created. I wait for Jake - my voice of sanity and reason - to object, but instead it seems as if some silent conversation passes between them.

"All right, I'll be back," Jake announces.

My mouth falls open. Jake is actually going to leave me alone – with him!

Jake takes the empty glass from Edward and pats him on the shoulder as he heads for the door. "Watch your back, man. She packs a mean pillow."

What the hell is going on? Something had to have happened last night when they had their little man-to-man chat. Jake wouldn't give me any details when he returned to my room, only saying it was a 'guy thing.' They must have drawn some kind of truce or something, because Jake went from wanting to rip Edward's head off to being… friendly.

Edward lifts his laptop from the floor as he sits down on the edge of my bed, one hand still tucked into the pocket of his sweatshirt. "Deadliest Catch, huh? You hate reality TV. I'm surprised you're not giving Jake hell for watching this."

I flinch. Jake? Edward has never called him that. This is getting beyond weird. I narrow my eyes at him.

Edward closes his laptop and sets it on the bed next to him. He glances up, taking in my hostile expression. "What?"

"You and Jake seem to be getting along. What did you talk about last night?"

For a brief second, a hint of sadness flashes through Edward's eyes that I don't understand. He composes himself quickly, drawing the smirk back to his lips, but it doesn't reach his eyes as it did before. "We came to an…understanding."

"About?" I press.

He shrugs. "We agreed that we should try to get along, that it would be best for you."

I'm not buying it. There's more to it than that, I can tell. I open my mouth to dispute him, but Edward cuts me off.

"It was nice to hear you laugh again," he whispers, diverting his eyes to the bed. He says it so softly I almost don't hear him.

But I do hear him. I hear it, and I feel it. I feel that tiny shard of hope, like a splinter that cuts just deep enough to hurt, but not bleed. In that fraction of a second, I feel the most dangerous emotion of all - hope. Hope that he really does care about me. Hope that he misses me. Hope that, somehow, my Edward is still in there and that he still loves me. I feel it tearing at the wound he has left in my heart. It's too much.

"Edward, stop." I scramble out of the bed.

"Bella. Bella, wait." He reaches out and grabs my wrist, just as he did two nights ago.

I violently pull out of his grasp. "Let go of me!" I scream. There's no way I'm going to allow him to stop me this time. I have to get away from him, or I'm going to go insane.

Edward draws back his hand, holding them both up in surrender. I notice his right hand, the hand he's been hiding in his pocket all morning – hiding from me – is wrapped tightly in thick, white gauze. My eyes flash back to his face. His expression is anxious, and I'm not sure if it's from the intensity of my outburst or his unintentional revelation of his injured hand.

He stands and begins moving around the bed, forcing me to back away from his advance. I suddenly feel like I'm being hunted, like he's the predator and I'm the prey. The imagery sends a wave of fear through me, along with the sensation to run.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to -"

I hold my hands up, indicating for him to stop talking. I don't understand what's happening to me, why I feel like this. After everything we went through yesterday, why do I suddenly feel the overwhelming need to protect myself from him? I take a deep breath and try to relax. "Edward, just… go away."

"Bella, I can't - "

"I don't need babysitting, Edward. I think I proved that yesterday. Please, just… leave me alone."

"But, Bella there's something I need to tell -"

"Edward, I can't do this! I can't be around you. I need you to - I need you to leave me alone. You're scaring me. You're - you're hurting me."

Edward goes completely still. Immediately, I recognize the expression that washes over his face. It's the same one as the night of our first fight, when he knelt before me in the dance studio. It's the same heartbreak and pain. I don't understand it. Why would my words cause him to feel that way again?

Edward closes his eyes and hangs his head. "I'm sorry," he mutters.

"Just… don't." I march around him and out the door, leaving him standing in the center of my room.

Author's Note:

I know you are all screaming for Bella to know the truth, and it's coming. I had to cut it off there (because I'm evil!) not really - it's just this chapter would have been crazy long. Next chapter will pick up right where this one left off, and the long wait is finally over!

In the meantime, go check out my one-shot ~ Invisible ~ AU/ New Moon/Canon/BPOV. Angst/Hurt/Comfort. Rated M for dark themes. No language. No lemons.

Summary: Edward leaves and Bella does not recover. "So the night Victoria leapt through my open window, crouching like a cat at the foot of my bed, I regarded her with the same enthusiasm as I did the leaves that fell from her tattered clothes and littered my floor. I blinked."

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