Author's Note: Thanks for your patience while my Beta's and I pulled this together. To make up for the delay, this chapter is super-sized! Enjoy!

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

BPOV

After spending all morning with Charlie, Edward jumps at my suggestion that we get out of the house for a while. Seeing as its New Years Day and not many places are open, I decide to take him to the Desert Botanical Gardens at Papago Park. It's one of my favorite places in Phoenix, and with this being Edward's first time in the southwest, it's a great place for him to see some of the unique desert plants and scenery without having to go into the desert itself.

As we crisscross our way through town, I make a point to drive past my old school, my old dance studio, and a few other places he's heard me talk about. Edward teases me that I'm copying him. At first, I have no idea what he's talking about. Then he reminds me of the night we drove around Seattle, sipping chocolate milkshakes, and doing the exact same thing.

"Well, you showed me your home town. I'm showing you mine."

"Seattle isn't my home town," he mumbles, staring out the window at the flat, dry landscape.

"Will you take me there sometime? To Forks?"

Edward glances at me, and the look on his face makes me instantly regret bringing it up. He tries to smile, but I can see the sadness in his eyes. He's probably had enough stress today dealing with Charlie and his interrogation. I'm sure the last thing he wants to do right now is think about his parents.

He turns back to the window. "Sure. I'll take you."

I keep my mouth shut for the rest of the drive. Every few minutes I steal a glance at Edward, but he remains turned toward the window, making it impossible for me to read his mood.

When we arrive at the garden, Edward doesn't move to get out of the car, even after I park at the back of the lot and turn off the engine. I know something is bothering him. I twist in my seat to face him, but he doesn't look at me, staring down at his hands in his lap instead.

"My parents want me to see a shrink," he admits softly.

I open my mouth but quickly snap it shut. My parents forced me to see a nutritional therapist about my eating habits a few years ago. All it did was make me resentful and push me further away from seeing the truth. But this situation is completely different. His parents aren't forcing him to go; they're letting him make this decision on his own, and I wonder if things would have turned out differently for me if my parents had taken the same approach.

"I don't know," he continues. "It didn't do a whole lot of good the last time. Of course," he smirks, "that's probably because I only went once. The guy told me I needed to sort through the emotions of my trauma to control my teenage rebellion." He twists the words with a mocking tone as he rolls his eyes. "I mean, come on. I was fifteen. They shouldn't have been surprised when I told that douchebag where he could stick my rebellion."

Edward glances at me sheepishly, and then looks back at his lap again. He's quiet again, and every few minutes he opens his mouth as if he's going to say something, but nothing comes out. Finally, he huffs and twists his body to face me, but he keeps his eyes downcast.

"My dad thinks I've been repressing my feelings about my parents' death. When he told me about those pictures, the ones you saw, it completely freaked me out because - because I didn't want to see them. I still don't. I don't think I could…" He shakes his head.

I reach over and take his hand, weaving our fingers together, and Edward seems to relax a little.

"It's one thing to talk about them, my parents I mean. Like the other night with you." He looks up, and I can clearly see the torment swimming in his eyes. "When I told you about them over the phone, it was like… abstract or something. I could almost detach myself from the story, ya know? Like it wasn't really me. But having to see it, see them, hold something real, something that was theirs, that's just..." He trails off again. "That's not normal, right? It's been ten years. Shouldn't it be easier by now? Shouldn't I be over it already?"

"I don't know," I admit gingerly. "I don't think so. I can't imagine ever getting over something like that, but maybe – maybe it doesn't have to hurt so much."

Edward nods. "So, you think I should go too," he says flatly.

I consider my words carefully. "Honestly, I don't think it's a bad idea. I mean, you can always talk to me. I love that you shared those memories with me the other night, and I hope you'll tell me more about your parents, but there are people out there specially trained to help you sort through the hard stuff. Dr. Weber has helped me, and I know my issues are completely different from what you're going through, but I would think the mechanics are basically the same. But, regardless, you shouldn't go because me, or Carlisle, or Esme, or anyone else thinks you should. You have to want to go for you."

He leans back against his seat and rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I know. Dad says the same thing. I have to make the decision."

I nod, unable to keep the smirk off my lips.

Edward narrows his eyes at me. "What?"

"I've never heard you call Carlisle your 'dad' before."

"I said that?"

"Yup. Twice."

"Huh."

Edward stares down at our intertwined hands, mindlessly twisting and turning our wrists from side to side. "Could we not talk about this anymore today? For the rest of the day could we try to forget everything besides just you and me? I've – I've missed you. I've missed just being with you."

I lean across the console and kiss his cheek. "Come on."

We exit the car and make our way across the lot to the park entrance. As we walk through the gate, I explain that this area is called the Ottosen Entry Garden, and from here we have the option to hike the Desert Discovery Trail or, my favorite, the Desert Wildflower Trail.

Edward cocks his head to the side. "Look at the size of that thing," he says, completely ignoring my question as to which path he wants to take.

I follow his gaze. "What? That cactus?"

"Yeah. What is that, like fifteen feet?"

I giggle. "Edward, I know you've never been to Arizona, but come on, you've seen a cactus before right?"

He turns to smirk at me. "Says the girl who's never seen snow."

"Touché"

He looks at the cactus again and then back to me. "Can I touch it?" he asks in a sneaky voice.

I glance around to make sure there aren't any park rangers in sight before gesturing toward the giant, green pillar. "Be my guest. Just don't touch the spines."

"I know that," he says, rolling his eyes.

He steps off the path and into the landscaping, cautiously making his way toward the mammoth cactus.

"Watch for rattle snakes," I call out.

Edward freezes, one leg suspended mid-step. He twists his head to glare back at me. "Are you freaking serious?"

"Not really." My words are obscured by my giggles. "I mean, there might be a snake in there, but I've never seen one."

"You're gonna pay for that, Swan."

I roll my eyes at him and walk over to a black, iron bench beside the path. From my seat, I watch as Edward steps carefully over the plants and shrubs to get a closer look at the cactus. Once he's standing beside it, he puts his hands on his hips and looks up.

"Yeah, that's got to be fifteen feet at least," he says loudly.

With one hand, Edward reaches out and strokes the waxy skin. After a moment he steps back and folds his arms across his chest, looking up to the top of the cactus again. I can't figure out why he's so enthralled with the height of the stupid thing. The trees back in Washington are probably ten times taller.

He looks down at his feet and then bends over, picking something up off the ground before walking back toward me. As he sits next to me on the bench, I get a quick glimpse of the purple cactus flower in his hand before he tucks it behind my ear.

"That might be illegal you know."

Edward shrugs. "It's OK. I'm down with the Sheriff."

"Oh, you think so?" I ask with a teasing edge to my words.

"OK, maybe not."

I shake my head. "Nah, he likes you."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Well, you know my old boyfriend, Ben? The one from the picture?"

"Yeah," he says anxiously.

"He still walks with a limp."

Edward growls and wraps his arm around my neck, pinning my head against his chest as he ruffles my hair. "You're a terrible liar. You know that right? No one believes you."

I giggle and squirm, trying to free myself from his grasp. As soon as I sit up, Edward pulls me close again, snuggling me into his side. He kisses the top of my head and then rests his cheek against the same spot.

We stay curled up on our bench for a while, quietly watching people walk by. An elderly couple smiles at us and offers wishes for a happy new year as they pass.

"You know I have to go home tomorrow," he says after a moment.

I sag against him and sigh heavily. It's not like I didn't know this was coming. I know he can't stay here forever.

"When does school start?" I ask.

"Monday. What about you?"

"Yeah. They start again Monday too."

"You say that like there's no hope of you being there."

"I want to be there." I pull out of his embrace and twist my body to face him. "I want to go back right now, but when I first mentioned it to my dad, he said no. He didn't want me to go back at all. Then he tried to offer me a… compromise. I don't know. Maybe ultimatum is a better word." I take a deep breath. "He wants me to stay in Phoenix for the next three months."

I can't stand the disappointment that flashes across Edwards's face, so I look down at my lap. The movement causes the flower to fall from my hair, and I pick it up and idly begin toying with the bloom.

"Why three months?"

"Well, I assume it's because the Academy runs on a quarter system. I'd only miss one quarter of the semester. And…"

"And what?" he prompts when my words trail off.

"And…" I huff and rush through my explanation. "The treatment hospital here has a three-month program. Carlisle and Dr. Weber both told me about it. No doubt they told Charlie too."

I sneak a quick glance at Edward, but he's not looking at me. He lets out a deep breath and rubs the back of his neck roughly. Sheepishly, I turn my attention back to my flower and stroke the soft petals. One of the petals breaks off and flutters to the ground.

He loves me.

I pluck off the next one.

He loves me not.

"Would you have to… like, live there? At the hospital?"

"I don't know. Some people do. I had a friend that had to stay, but she was really sick."

Another petal becomes a victim of my game. He loves me.

"Bella," he says cautiously. As I look up, Edward frowns at me. "You were really sick."

He loves me not.

He takes a deep breath and slowly reaches forward to take my hand. "You still are, love."

"No. I'm not. Not anymore," I argue.

"You know this isn't something that just goes away in a few weeks. This is something we will have to live with for a while."

I jerk my hand from his. "We?"

Edward narrows his eyes at me. "Yes we. Of course we," he says, almost angrily. "It's always going to be we. Every day of forever."

I shake my head and pluck another petal from the bloom. He loves me.

"You can't know that, Edward. We're still in high school. You can't know how you'll feel about me in a year, in five years."

He loves me not.

He grabs the flower from my hand and tosses it on the bench behind him. "Are you serious? Where the hell is this coming from?"

"It's just… you were talking about your future, and making huge decisions based on me and my plans, and talking about living together, and - "

"If you don't want to live together, if it's too fast - "

"No. It's not that. It's just… you don't have to stay with me because you think I'll – I'll do something stupid again."

Edward's mouth falls open and he stares at me in a daze. "You – you think I'm with you... you think I'm here because – because I feel guilty?"

I bite my lip and look away. I hadn't thought about it that way.

"I - I don't understand where this is coming from. Just this morning you seemed happy about the idea of us planning a future - our future."

"I was. I mean, I am. But when you said my… disorder is something you'd have to put up with for a while… well, you don't have to be stuck with that. You didn't sign up for this."

"Bella." He lets out an exaggerated sigh, and I glance up to see him squeeze his eyes shut and pinch the bridge of his nose. "First of all, I didn't say 'put up with;' I said 'live with.' There is a difference. And second," he opens his eyes and glares at me, "have you completely lost your mind?"

I flinch at his angry tone.

Edward twists forward, propping his elbows on his knees and holding his head in his hands. Something grabs his attention, and he reaches over and tosses the remains of my flower angrily to the ground at my feet.

"How – how can you still doubt my feelings for you? After all the times I've told you I love you. After everything we've been through."

I know I should say something. I know my words have hurt him. I didn't mean them the way he took them, but - but I want him to calm down first. Frankly, I need a moment to calm down too. The idea that he thinks I'm still sick isn't sitting too well with me at the moment. I know it's true, but hearing him say it - it's like he's siding with Charlie. Like he thinks I should stay behind for the next three months. As if it's just that easy for him to walk away… again.

Slowly, I lean down and pick up the flower from the dirt. One by one, I gradually pluck the remaining petals from the stem. From the corner of my eye I see Edward twist his head in his hands to watch me. Even from my peripheral vision I can see the wounded expression on his face.

When the last petal remains, I pull it from the stem, slowly twisting it back and forth between my fingers.

"What's the verdict?" he asks somberly.

I look up, wishing I could take back everything I'd just said. Wishing I could take away the pain in his eyes. "He loves me," I whisper.

"Do you honestly think I'm acting out of guilt?"

Slowly, I shake my head.

"Then why did you say that?"

"I didn't mean it that way. It's just… you told me once that you refused to ruin my life because of your mistakes. I feel the same way. You shouldn't have to live with my disorder. You're right. I am still sick. I'll probably be this way for a long time. Hell, I may be this way forever. I'm – I'm damaged, and you deserve better than that."

Edward turns his body toward me, grabbing both my hands in his. "No. You're not damaged. And yes, you might struggle with this for the rest of your life, but I'm going to be there to help you. I want to be there. And… and I need you to be there for me too. I told you, I'm selfish. I need you to help me through whatever this crap is I'm dealing with my parents – all of my parents. I can't do this without you."

"But you shouldn't have to settle - "

He chuckles, menacingly. "This is not settling. This is so far from settling. Bella," he lets out a deep breath, "before I met you, I had no intention of – of doing anything with my life. But now…" He smiles and looks down sheepishly. "You - you make me want to be a better person. You make me want to fix my flaws, and be someone that you can love and - and be proud of. You are the most important thing to me. I meant it back then, and I mean it now. I want you in my life. I need you in my life. When I picture my future, there's no doubt in my mind that you're a part of it – a very big part. I know how hard you've worked and sacrificed for your dreams. I never had any dreams, any ambitions, until I met you. Now I dream about being with you – forever. I want to take care of you. I want to be worthy of you. I want - " He chuckles. "I want us to live together. I want us to get married and – and have kids. And I want to fight about stupid crap like where to order take-out from, and whose turn it is to drive the kids to soccer practice at the butt-crack of dawn. I want - "

"Oh, it's definitely your turn," I mumble, interrupting his rambling.

Edward freezes, and as my words sink in, a slow smile creeps across his lips. "But I drove him last weekend."

"Him? Oh, no. I don' think so. She can - " But I can't finish my sentence, not with Edward kissing me.

"I love you, Bella," he whispers as he presses his forehead against mine. "I know I can't predict the future. I can hope, and dream, and plan for what I want to happen, but nothing in this life is certain. I know that. But no matter what happens to us – today, tomorrow, fifty years from now – you should never doubt my feelings for you. I love you. I love you with my whole heart, with everything that I am. I love you more than anything in the world, more than my own life."

"I love you, too. And I want all those things. I want them with you. I'm sorry I said those things before, but when you suggested I stay… like it would be so easy for us to… for you to… leave me behind."

Realization dawns on his face as he grasps what brought all this on. His arms are around me instantly, pulling me close. "No, Bella. I'm not leaving you. I will never leave you again. I won't. I can't. You're stuck with me until – until you're so sick of me you beg me to go away. Maybe even after that."

I chuckle once.

"But, love, if you need to stay, then…" I can feel him shake his head. "I wouldn't be leaving you behind. You can't think of it that way."

Edward releases me as I push myself away. "I don't want to stay."

"I know you don't want to, but - "

"No. I mean, I don't think I need to."

He narrows his eyes at me, examining my face for a moment. "Why?" he challenges.

"What do you mean why?"

"Tell me why. What are you reasons? Why don't you need to stay?"

I scowl at him, folding my arms tightly across my chest.

"Don't get mad." He reaches over and untangles my arms, taking my hand in his. "I'm not saying I disagree with you. I just want to know why you feel that way."

"Because – because I've seen the brochures on that place. I know what that would cost my dad. He can't afford it."

Edward is shaking his head before I even finish. "Nope. Not good enough. Money is not a valid reason."

Maybe for him it's not. Edward has never had to want for anything. But in my world, growing up on a shoestring budget, you learn pretty quickly how money is always a factor – even in major, life-altering decisions. "Ah, yes it is. And I swear, Edward, if you offer to -"

"It won't be a valid reason to Charlie," he interrupts, completely ignoring my accusation. "You think he's going to let that stop him from getting his daughter the help she needs?"

"No. He'll do something stupid like cash out his retirement, or take a second mortgage on the house, or both. What I'm saying is I don't think I need all that." I wave my hand in a circle. "I like Dr. Weber. I like the treatment plan we have. I trust him, and – and I trust Carlisle too. I think going back to Seattle would be better for me. I think I'd do better if I finished what I started, instead of starting over here with new doctors, and new treatments, and – and people I don't know."

Edward nods, and the corner of his mouth turns up in a mischievous grin. "So it's not just about wanting to be with me," he says a tag smug.

I nudge him playfully. "You're just a nice perk."

~o0o~

We never make it to the hiking trails. In fact, we never make it off the bench. For the rest of the afternoon, I remain curled into Edward's side with his arm wrapped securely around my shoulder. He gently stokes my arm, or kisses my head, or mindlessly run his fingers through my hair as I relish every minute of just being close to him.

We talk a little more about the possibility of me having to stay in Phoenix. Of course, Charlie would have the final say on that subject, regardless of how I – no, we feel. If he decides that I should stay for three months, I know I won't be able to defy him. Edward agrees, even pointing out that, if that's what Charlie decides, we should trust that he's trying to do what he thinks is best for me.

The sun begins to set, casting fiery pink and orange hues into the sky. Reluctantly, I sit up, stretching and twisting my body, which has grown stiff from sitting so long.

"We have to go. The park closes at dark."

I stand up slowly and step away from the bench, but Edward grabs my hand. He scoots forward, pulling me to stand between his legs and stares up at me with an unreadable expression on his face. I run my hands through his hair then down the sides of his face, stroking his cheeks with my thumbs. It's easy to see he wants to say something, so I simply wait while he works up the courage.

"I'm sorry," he says softly.

I narrow my eyes at him, not understanding what he's apologizing for, and why he looks so… tormented. "For what?"

"For – for everything. For leaving you. For hurting you. For -"

I cover his mouth with my hand. "Edward, stop. You have to let that go. You have to put it behind you. You have to stop apologizing."

He wraps his fingers around my wrist, pulling my hand from his mouth. "But I haven't. Not really. You – you left before I got the chance."

He's right. I never did give him the chance that night, and I guess it never came up during our phone calls.

"Please," he begs. "Just – just let me."

The haunting torture in his expression makes me pause. I don't want to go back there. I don't want to be reminded of all the ways he hurt me. But I can see how badly he needs this. Hesitantly, I nod.

He takes both of my hands and pulls me closer, twisting them around so the back of my hands press against his chest. Even in this reverse position, I can still feel his heart pounding below the surface.

"Do you remember when I told you that, out of all the terrible things I've done in my life, that I would never regret anything as much as what I'd done to you?"

I nod slowly.

"I would give anything – anything – to go back to that night outside my house, to stop myself from making the biggest mistake of my life. There were so many times that night that I thought – I thought I couldn't go through with it. My heart was screaming at me to stop, but in my head… I had convinced myself that I had to do it."

He swallows hard, and I watch his eyes. He looks as if he could break apart at any moment. I pull my hands from his and place them on either side of his face as I rest my forehead against his and close my eyes.

"You called me a monster, and that's exactly what I was before I met you. I was angry and resentful, and I took it out on everyone who loved me. But you saw through that. You saw the real me. You said once that I was locked away, trapped inside myself. That was truer than you could possibly understand. But, Bella, I swear that monster is gone. I will never be him again. I am so sorry for hurting you, for destroying what we had."

His voice is so strangled that I have no doubt, if I were to look, his eyes would be filled with tears. I can't take anymore, so I press my lips to his. I only meant to kiss him to stop him from saying anything else, but slowly the atmosphere between us seems to shift. Edward's arms wrap around my back, pulling me closer to him. It's as if he's anchoring himself to me, holding on as if I could slip away at any moment. I push him back against the bench and straddle his lap as my hands tangle into his hair. Our kisses quickly spiral out of control, and soon we are pawing at each other, desperately trying to get closer, to make up for what we've lost.

"We… can't…" Edward pants against my lips.

"Please," I beg, kissing him again. "We – I need you. I need to be with you. Tomorrow you're… and it could be…" I can't bring myself to say it. It hurts too much to think of being apart from him again.

Edward understands me perfectly, kissing me deeply for a moment before pushing me away so he can stand up. He takes my hand and begins to walk toward the giant cactus he had been admiring earlier – away from the park entrance. I'm about to question his sense of direction when I notice a building materialize around the corner – a greenhouse. He must have seen it earlier.

Edward slowly pushes the door open and we creep inside. The walls are made of some kind of fogged material, making it impossible to see out - or in - but the roof is clear glass. The sun disappeared below the horizon a while ago, and the sky above is slowly fading to a dark blue, allowing a few stars to peek through. The long pathway up the center of the greenhouse is lined with wooden tables on either side, every inch covered with lush green plants and tropical ferns. Edward walks cautiously toward the back of the building, still clutching my hand in his. Finally, the rows of tables end, leaving a wide open space along the back wall. It looks like some plants have been removed, leaving behind large, round water stains along one side of a white tarp that covers the ground.

Edward turns to face me, pulling me close as he brushes the back of his fingers across my cheek. "Is this OK?"

I tilt my head back to look up at the stars, and Edward follows my gaze. "This is better than OK. It's like we're at home again, on the balcony, in our chair."

"When you were gone," he begins, stroking my cheek again. "I sat out there for an hour one night, thinking about all the times we spent together. I thought it would make me feel better, but…" Edward closes his eyes and shakes his head. "Everything reminded me of you – reminded me that you were gone. I don't know how I'm going to - " He stops abruptly.

"It's OK. You can say it," I whisper.

He doesn't move, except for his eyes which are shifting back and forth, searching mine.

"You can say it," I repeat. "I want you to. I want to know you feel the same way."

He lets out a deep breath. "I – I don't know how I'm going to walk away from you tomorrow. It hurts just to imagine it. How am I supposed to go home without you? Back to our room? Knowing it could be months before I see you again, before I can hold you in my arms… touch you… kiss you." As if to emphasis his point, Edward leans down and kisses me gently. "I'm sorry. I know that's selfish, and I shouldn't think like that, but I can't help it. I want you with me."

"I'm here now. We're together now. We can worry about tomorrow later. Just – just be here, with me, now."

He cradles my cheek in his hand, pulling my face to his and kissing me softly. I skim my hands up his arms and remove his hands from my face. Twisting my fingers in his, I take a step back, pulling him with me as I sit down on the white tarp. Edward follows closely, pushing me onto my back as he hovers over me, kissing me gently.

He kisses my lips, my cheek, my temple, and my eyes, tenderly and softly, every touch filled with love and adoration. Time seems to slow down, and the world outside disappears. Nothing else matters beyond this moment, beyond the way Edward is holding me, touching me, telling me he loves me - with his words and his actions.

~o0o~

Several hours later, we finally make it back to my house, smiling and holding hands as we walk through the front door. Charlie is standing in the living room, holding the phone against his ear as he paces in front of the fireplace.

"Yeah, yeah. I guess that would be alright. Look, they just walked in. You still wanna talk to him?"

I glance at Edward, but he doesn't appear concerned.

"Edward," Charlie calls out. "Your father would like to talk to you." He holds out the receiver and Edward drops my hand, walking over to take the phone from Charlie.

"Where ya been, Bells?" Charlie asks as he walks toward the kitchen and I follow.

"Papago Park." Reflexively, I check the digital clock on the microwave, making sure we didn't miss curfew, but it's only 9:30.

"Huh. I thought they shut that place down at dark."

Shoot.

"Oh, yeah – yeah, they do. We've been just driving around. You know, showing Edward the city. Like my old studio, stuff like that." God, I hope my face isn't as red as it feels. Maybe the fact that I'm not totally lying, just rearranging the details a bit, keeps me from sounding completely guilty.

"Did you guys eat? Sue brought over dinner. There's tons left in the fridge."

"No, we didn't. Thanks."

I busy myself with warming our dinner as Edward talks to his father in the other room. Charlie takes his usual seat at the table, talking about how he and Sue think Rebecca, Sue's oldest daughter, is going to elope with her surfer boyfriend right after her upcoming graduation from the University of Hawaii.

"Something smells good," Edward comments as he walks into the kitchen.

"Perfect timing. It's almost ready." Just as I say the words, the microwave beeps. I open the door and, without thinking, reach inside to grab the casserole dish.

"Oh! Shit! Shit! Ouch!" I yell as the scalding plate burns my fingers. I wave my hand, frantically trying to cool it.

"Come here." Edward grabs my wrist and leads me quickly to the sink, submerging my hand under cold water. "You OK?" he asks after a moment.

"Yes," I lie through clenched teeth.

He pulls my hand from under the faucet, examining my fingers. "It'll feel better when it quits hurting," he says, trying – and failing – to keep a serious expression on his face.

I smack his shoulder with my good hand. "Not. Funny. It hurt."

"Awe, I'm sorry." He dries my hand gently with a dishtowel before kissing each of my scorched fingers, one by one. "Go sit down. I'll finish this."

I do as I'm told, slumping down in the seat across from Charlie as I scrutinize my blistered fingertips. Charlie mumbles something under his breath, and Edward chuckles behind me.

"What?"

Charlie looks away sheepishly, refusing to answer. I twist in my chair to face Edward as he slices through the steaming casserole with a knife. "What did he say?"

Edward glances at Charlie quickly and then back to me. "He told me that you were a clumsy kid, and I didn't believe him. He just said 'I told you so.'"

I turn back to face Charlie, pretending to glare angrily at him. "Thanks a lot, Dad. I was trying to keep that a secret."

"Well, the boy has a right to know what he's getting himself into," Charlie defends.

Edward walks to the table, setting a plate down in front of me and another for himself. "Just try a little. Then if you want something else I can…"

I stare at him, confused. Edward nods to the plate in front of me and, for the first time, I examine the food Sue brought over. It smells wonderful: the spices and melting cheeses, the large chucks of ground beef, everything layered between several levels of pasta and globs of red sauce. Eating the block of lasagna on my plate would mean consuming more fat and calories in one sitting than I had since I started treatment. Not to mention I would be reintroducing meat into my diet for the first time. Any one of those factors could make sick.

"Just try. You don't have to eat it all. In fact, you probably shouldn't, but you should at least try a little."

"But – but what if…"

"What? You get sick?" Edward shrugs. "Nothing we haven't been through before."

He begins cutting into his own slice of lasagna while I poke at mine with my fork. After a moment, I slowly pick up my knife and cut off a small bite. Another minute passes before I decide to spear it with my fork.

"Talk to me," Edward insists.

I glance at him and notice his plate is more than half empty. I didn't realize how long I've been vacillating over this one bite.

"What do you see?" he asks, nodding toward my fork. I twirl it slowly between my fingers, examining the scrap of pasta and cheese impaled on the end.

"I see - I see more fat and calories than I've eaten in months. I see meat. I see something that, if I put it in my mouth, is going to make me sick." I sigh and slump down a little in my chair. How could one tiny bite of food make me feel so powerless and defeated?

"OK. Take it one thing at a time. Start with the meat. That's a new food group to your meal plan, right? And I'm pretty sure this is lean ground beef. Otherwise it would be way greasier. So that means you're looking at a good source of protein and iron. And who knows, maybe you start with this and work your way into other meats. Like this could be your gateway-meat to ham or sausage or," Edward gasps, "bacon." He twists his mouth in an expression of mock horror, jerking his eyes toward Charlie. "Shh, don't tell the cop."

I giggle and glance at Charlie who's watching our exchange with an amused but curious expression.

"And yes, it's got fat and calories, but that's because it's got every major food group conveniently packaged in one meal. Well, except for fruit, but you had fruit this morning. But look, you've got starches, veggies, meat, dairy; you're totally covered."

"Until I throw it up," I grumble.

"OK. So it might make you sick. That wouldn't be the end of the world. We just try again, just like we did the last time."

I turn my attention back to my plate, nudging the small bite a few times with my fork.

Edward twists in his seat, turning his body to face me. "I'm not trying to make light of the situation. I know this is a big step, and if you don't feel ready, that's OK. It's not pass or fail. It's not as black and white as you may think. We can find another way. I'll make you a turkey sandwich, and we can still celebrate your victory over meat."

I throw my head back and laugh. "You are so ridiculous. Celebrate my victory over meat? Where do you come up with this stuff?"

The corner of Edward's mouth curls up into my favorite crooked smile as he shrugs one shoulder. "Why not? When I was little, my parents rewarded me for doing something positive or accomplishing some goal. Like letting me pick where to go for dinner after I passed a math test. You should have some kind of reward system. I mean, you had a goal before, right? To get your scholarship reinstated. Well, you did that. So now we need to come up with another goal, like…" Edward's eyes look up and away as he thinks.

"Like," I cut in. "Like… eating something from every food group at least… four times a week."

"Yeah. That's good. OK." Edward looks around the kitchen excitedly. "We should write this down."

Charlie pushes his chair back from the table and walks over to the drawer we normally keep crammed with paper, pens, stamps, and all manner of junk that usually collects on the counter. He returns with a sheet of paper and a pen, handing them both to Edward before sitting down again.

"Thanks. OK. So…" Edward begins to draw out a grid, labeling the days of the week across the top and the major food groups down the left side. Next, he places checkmarks in the corresponding squares, noting the food groups I consumed during breakfast and lunch.

"There," he announces. "So, how 'bout it? Wanna add another check tonight?"

I cross my arms in front of my chest, trying to appear defiant and stubborn, even though his enthusiasm has already won me over. "What's my reward?"

"Oh. Right." Edward looks down at his chart, tapping the pen against the paper as he thinks. After a few seconds, his head snaps up and an eager smile lights up his face. "A date," he announces proudly.

"A date?"

"Yup. You meet your goal by next weekend, and I'll take you to the movies. Then next week, if you do it again, we'll do something else."

I try not to let my excitement show. "Do I get to pick the movie?"

Edward hisses and scrunches up his face. "Gee, I dunno. Face Punch is coming out this week. You're really going to have to impress me." He taps his chart again.

I pretend to mull it over, staring down at my plate. Over the course of this whole conversation, my anxiety over actually eating the lasagna has significantly diminished. And while Edward's reward system is silly and childish, I can't help but feel a bit motivated about actually trying to eat.

"What do you think? We have a deal?" he asks.

I scrape the bite from my fork as I stand up and carry my plate toward the sink. I can feel both of them staring at me as I set my plate inside the microwave to reheat my now-cold pasta. No one says a word as I return to the table and stab the infamous bite that started this whole mess with my fork. Once again, I examine it for a long moment before bringing the fork to my lips. I try not to look at Edward or Charlie as I chew the unbelievably delicious pasta, but from the corner of my eye I can see them exchange a look.

I ignore them and concentrate on my dinner. I'd forgotten how amazing lasagna tastes: the layers of soft, buttery pasta, the delicious combination of perfectly seasoned tomatoes mixed with just the right amount of meat and melted cheeses. By the third bite, I'm surprised to realize I'm actually enjoying this – enjoying food.

I glance at Edward to see if he's watching my little epiphany, but he and Charlie are engrossed in another conversation.

"Tomorrow afternoon," he says, answering my father's question. "There's a - a voucher for a second ticket," he admits cautiously. "That's what my dad was calling about. We were hoping Bella could come back with me, but the voucher is good for a year. She can use it anytime she wants."

My eyes dart frantically back and forth between Edward and my father, watching their exchange.

"That's very generous," Charlie mumbles.

Edward looks at me then. "I'll take good care of her. I promise."

I know he meant it as a pledge to Charlie, but as I search his eyes, I can clearly see that his vow is intended for me.

"I'm gonna hold you to that," Charlie says.

My eyes snap to his. "So does that mean I - I can go? I can go with him?" I ask excitedly.

Charlie looks at me and then at Edward. After the longest moment of my life, he nods once.

I gasp and turn to Edward. Just as I'm about to throw my arm around his neck, Charlie declares, "But there are going to be some conditions."

My excitement fades. Of course there are. Anxiously, I twist in my chair to face my father – and his demands.

"You're going to continue to see that Dr. Weber. The Doc says he's been doing nutritional counseling with you, and you're going to continue those sessions, at least once a month, until you graduate. After that… well, I hope you'll continue to go, but it will be your choice."

"I can do that."

Charlie sighs. "Now, the Cullens have invited you to stay with them again. To be honest, I wasn't too keen on the idea at first." He glances at Edward quickly and then back to me. "But the Doc is right. It would be best for you to be under his supervision at this point in your recovery. And it makes your old man feel better knowing you're not up there by yourself."

"So… what's the condition?" I ask cautiously.

"Well." Charlie rubs his hand roughly over his face. "Let's just say you two are going to be better supervised now that we all know about your… ah... this." He gestures to us with a wave of his hand. "We discussed moving your bedroom downstairs, but Esme wouldn't hear of it."

Edward chuckles. "The downstairs bedroom is in the basement. Esme would rather build Bella her own cottage in the backyard with her bare hands before she would stick her down there."

"Yeah, I got that impression."

"I'll move downstairs. Emmett can have my room."

"But Emmett loves his room," I argue. "That's not really fair to him."

"He'd do it for you. And it's only for a few months. He'll probably be gone all summer to one of those football recruitment camps, and then he'll be at whatever Big Twelve Conference school snatches him up in the fall."

"I heard Oklahoma is interested in him," Charlie announces excitedly. "That's pretty impressive considering they hold the most titles out of the entire conference."

"I didn't know that," Edward admits. "But I did overhear him and his girlfriend talking about Baylor, and Emmett seemed -"

"Can we please not discuss football right now?" I blurt out. "I'm trying to negotiate the terms of my parole."

They both chuckle. "You're right, love. I'm sorry."

"So counseling and chaperones. What else?"

"And… you're coming home this summer."

I gasp.

"Just for a visit… a week," Charlie amends quickly, holding his hands up.

"Can -"

"Yes, Edward can come too," he says, rolling his eyes.

I visibly relax. "OK. Anything else?"

"And… I want updates. You have a phone and email. I expect you to use them more often." Charlie looks at Edward. "And that goes for you too. I want to know what happens with the petition, and what the lawyer says. You call me if they give you the run-around, and I'll have my guys in legal make some calls."

"I will," Edward promises.

Charlie looks at me again. "Don't look so shocked, kiddo. Your old man can change, too."

It all comes back to me - the argument Charlie and I had about Edward. How I accused him of judging Edward for his mistakes without knowing him, without considering the changes he made to rectify his past. I told Charlie that people can change; they can grow and they can learn, and that's what Edward has done. I didn't realize he listened – that he took my words to heart.

"You told me I was being unfair," he continues, "and maybe you were right… to some degree. But when it comes to my daughter, I'm going to be biased. And I'm not going to apologize for that."

"Thank you," I say softly. "Thank you for listening to me. And for giving Edward a chance."

"I always listen to you, Bells. You know…" He lets out a deep breath. "Parents don't like to admit it when their children are capable of running their own lives. It's a hard thing – letting go of that control. I'd love to blame it on my inner-cop, but it's really just me. I just want what's best for you, and in this situation, I think you're right. Being in Seattle, being with… people who - " His eyes dart to Edward. "Who love you, and can take care of you, and can help you get well, that's better for you than forcing you to be somewhere you don't want to be."

I push my chair back and stand up, walking over to my father. I sit in his lap and wrap my arms around his neck as I bury my face against his shoulder. "Of course I want to be with you, Dad. You love me and take care of me too. You were the first, and you set the bar pretty high." I feel him chuckle as he hugs me tighter. "I love you, Dad," I whisper.

"I love you too, kiddo. Always have, always will."

I don't let go, and neither does Charlie.

"Just take care of her," he says softly over my shoulder.

"I will. I promise."

I can feel Charlie nod. "All right," he says after a moment. He loosens his hold on me, and I sit back. "Go on. I know you've got to pack and get ready for your flight."

"But what about…" I look back at the dishes scattered across the table.

"I'll clean up dinner."

I raise an eyebrow at him.

"There's no law that says I can't clean in my own house," he defends.

"You would know, Sheriff."

"Go on now. Get."

It takes twice as long to pack for my return trip, even with Edward's 'help.' Half of my clothes he deems inadequate for the harsh Pacific Northwest winter. I have to remind him – more than once – that this is Arizona, and wool sweaters and down jackets aren't that easy to come by.

When he isn't scrutinizing my wardrobe, Edward busies himself with making arrangement for our trip home. He calls Carlisle first, instructing him to redeem the extra travel voucher for my ticket and asking him to call the airline and make sure our seats are together. As soon as they finish discussing business, Esme jumps on the line, wanting to hear all about how surprised I was when he showed up and all the details of his trip. He has to remind her that we'll both be home tomorrow and promises to share the entire story over dinner tomorrow night.

Next, he asks to speak to Emmett, and after he answers all his questions about how I'm doing and what Arizona is like, Edward humbly asks his brother about switching bedrooms. Emmett doesn't hesitate to agree, but Edward still explains how it would make all the parents a little more comfortable. I can hear Emmett's booming voice through the phone as he teases Edward about never getting laid again now that their parents are on to us.

Edward hangs up the phone and slumps down on my bed, throwing his arm over his eyes. "I think I've talked more today than in the last six months combined," he groans.

It had been an emotionally draining day, especially for him: having to deal with Charlie this morning, then our… disagreement in the park, and his heartfelt apology. Then, to top it all off, dinner tonight was another rollercoaster of emotions.

Edward rolls over on his stomach and wraps his arms around my pillow. "Why didn't you tell your dad we were talking about getting an apartment together in the fall?" he asks with his eyes closed.

I shrug, even though he can't see it. "One step at a time. Up until a few weeks ago he didn't know you were even part of my life. Let's let him get used to the idea first before we drop that bomb."

"OK," he mumbles around a huge yawn. "Don't forget your phone charger."

Lifting the coiled cord from my suitcase, I shake it sarcastically toward him, but his eyes remained closed and he can't see my mocking gesture. I turn my attention back to sorting through my jeans, trying to decide which pairs to bring and which to leave behind. I'm not at all surprised to look up a few minutes later to see Edward has fallen asleep.

I continue my work, adding a few more pairs of socks, pants, shoes, and the new leotards Charlie gave me for Christmas to my suitcases. Just as I'm about to sort through my underwear, Charlie's heavy footsteps ascend the stairs.

"You left this stuff in the dryer. Thought you might need it." He hands me a laundry basket filled with clothes.

"Thanks," I say softly, taking it from him.

Charlie leans against the doorframe and folds his arms across his chest. "He out?"

I glance over my shoulder at Edward, watching his back rise and fall with his soft breathing. "Yeah. It's been a long day I guess."

Charlie stares at him for a moment with a strange expression on his face. He opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it again.

"Don't worry. I'll sleep across the hall."

"No, that's – that's not what I was going to say." He continues to study Edward for a moment. I set the laundry basket down next to my suitcase and begin folding the shirt on top. "That boy would take a bullet for you," he says solemnly.

"That's a pretty hefty compliment… coming from a cop," I tease.

Charlie chuckles under his breath. "What I'm trying to say is…" He sighs. "He's a decent guy, Bells. I'll try to remember that."

My head whips around to stare at my father.

"No promises, though," he amends with a smirk. He shoves off the doorframe and turns his back to me. "Night, kiddo," he calls over his shoulder as he disappears.

I look back at Edward, watching his peaceful face as he sleeps. A small part of me wishes he could have heard what Charlie said, but I know my dad would have never admitted that in front of him. I suppose the fact that Charlie is allowing me to return to Seattle and continue living with the Cullens speaks for itself.

Around one in the morning I place the last of my clothes into the suitcase and zip it shut. Edward hasn't moved an inch since he fell asleep almost two hours ago. I sit down on the edge of my bed, surveying my room one more time. Even though I know this won't be my last time here, I'm starting to realize this isn't my home anymore. I should probably feel sad about leaving, but I'm not. I can't help but look forward to the future, look forward to the life I've chosen, look forward to going home.

Home.

It amazes me that, in such a short period of time, Seattle has become my home.

I glance over to the beautiful man, the love of my life, sleeping next to me.

No. Not Seattle. Edward is my home.

~o0o~

Once again, I'm the last one to join everyone in the kitchen for breakfast. Sue is here again, and after we eat our fill of the wonderful meal she prepared, we linger around the table talking. After a few hours, Edward and I excuse ourselves to get ready for the airport. When I emerge from my room wearing his black and grey plaid shirt – the one he claims he came all this way to collect – Edward laughs loudly.

"Hey, Chief!" He yells. "I need to report a theft."

"Boy, if you tell me she stole your heart, I'm gonna arrest you myself," Charlie calls from downstairs.

"Nah, just my shirt."

Charlie pokes his head out the kitchen door, watching us as we descend the stairs. Edward carries both of my hot-pink suitcases while I lug his much lighter duffle bag over my shoulder. Charlie appraises my outfit for a second. "Oh. In that case, let me get my badge."

We load our luggage into the back of the cruiser and say our goodbyes to Sue in the driveway. Edward scoffs, with an amused expression, about having to ride in the back, behind the fiberglass divider. He claims that I'm the criminal and tugs at my – his shirt as proof.

"No way," Charlie says. "I'm gonna enjoy every minute of this." He even grabs Edward by the head and pushes him into the backseat, just like they do on TV. All the way to the airport, he continues to steal glances at Edward in his rearview mirror, his grin widening every time.

We pull up outside the terminal and unload the bags at the curb.

"You kids got it from here?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Edward." Charlie holds his hand out and Edward shakes it. "It was nice to finally meet you… officially."

"Thank you, Sir. For everything."

"Yeah, don't mention it," he says with a shrug. "And, uh…" He glances at me as he rubs the back of his neck. "You can call me Charlie. All this sir stuff is a bit too formal for my taste."

Edward smiles. "Thank you, Charlie."

He raises the handles on both my suitcases. "I'll meet you inside," he says, offering me a moment alone to say goodbye to my dad. "You can handle my bag?"

"Yeah, I got it. I'll be right there."

With a nod and another small smile at Charlie, Edward drags my luggage through the automatic doors.

"Well, kiddo, I guess I'll see you this summer."

"Yeah," I mutter, keeping my eyes on the ground.

"I'm glad you decided to come home for Christmas. I know it wasn't… well, it wasn't just cause you missed your old man, but I'll take it."

"Dad," I scold.

Charlie takes a step forward and wraps me in his arms. "What I mean is, I'm glad you did because – because you were right. You said if I could just see how much that boy cares for you, how he takes care of you, I'd know there's nothing to worry about. You were right, and I do feel… better."

He releases his hold on me and steps back, clearing his throat. "All right. Go on now. You don't want to miss your flight."

I rise up on my toes and kiss his cheek. "Love you, Dad."

"Love you too, kid. You take care of yourself, hear?"

I nod and turn toward the automatic doors, glancing over my shoulder one last time. Charlie waves, sheepishly, as I step into the terminal and the doors close behind me.

I take a deep breath and then scan the crowd for Edward. He's easy enough to spot, standing between both of my hot-pink suitcases. His head is down, watching his fingers fly across the keypad of his phone. He looks up as I approach.

"Ready?"

"Yeah. I'm ready."

Edward leans down and kisses me gently once. "Let's go home," he whispers.

I can't help but smile as I fight the urge to correct him. I'm already home, right here, by his side.

~ End ~

Authors Note:

So, that's the end of this little tale. All that's left is an epilogue.

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