Disclaimer- Stephenie Meyer owns, not me.

BPOV

I sat on the couch, in my pajamas. My camera sat, untouched by my cold cup of coffee. I hadn't left our apartment since I had signed the affidavit. We were waiting on the Phoenix DA's office to see if they'd pursue these claims. My lawyer said that the first thing the defense would do was try to insist that it was implanted or created memories. Jim would never admit to it. He never admitted to hurting me- ever.

With the realization that I'd be put under attack at the trial, I was scared to death at the idea of actually going to trial. Edward insisted that I do it. There was little if any evidence, and most of it was my word against Jim's. I had to describe it all in front of an entire jury of people. I was horrified at just telling this story in front of a female police officer, and then my lawyer, but having to tell it again in front of an entire jury? Why?

I spent all day just wrapped up in my panicked thoughts of anxiety over this. I'd go days without eating, sleeping or showering before Edward got home. He'd try to get me to shower, but I didn't want to take my clothes off in front of him anymore. Sex was not in the picture at all, now. I knew he'd see that I was losing weight. I knew I was losing weight, I could feel it.

Esme, Angela and Alice would come by to visit while Edward was at work.

"The light in your eyes is gone," Esme said. "I love you, Bella, but we have to work through this. We can't lose you."

"I'm sorry," I said, crying.

Edward, Charlie, Angela, Esme, Carlisle and I went down to Phoenix for the second time in three months; I had to testify, my affidavit wasn't good enough. Alice couldn't get off from work, otherwise, she would have come.

The day before, the judge allowed me into the courtroom without anybody there, except Edward, Charlie and the judge himself. They let me get familiar with the bench and the courtroom, like when I was a kid. It was an effort to help me get comfortable in the courtroom so it wasn't so hard to speak out when giving my testimony. I had seen it before on Law and Order. It didn't calm my nerves.

The next day, Jim was there, in a blue jumpsuit and chains. He glared at me the whole time.

The prosecution badgered me and brought me to tears very easily. They brought up my mental health record and my miscarriage. They made it sound as if I was too crazy to be believed and I was bringing this up because I felt guilty because I had miscarried.

They called other witnesses- the doctors who examined me as a child, the neighbors who saw me literally disappear into the house, Charlie and my psychiatrists. They were both questioned on both sides. Charlie broke down on the stand. My heart broke when he said, "I'm a police officer. I see stuff like this all the time. I'm supposed to protect my community against felons like this, but I couldn't protect my own child."

The judge let us take a break after that. Charlie insisted he was fine, but his shoulders shook violently. I held my father outside until he stopped shaking.

"Bella," Edward said. "They're going to bring me on the stand."

"Okay," I nodded.

"I don't want you in the courtroom for this portion of it."

"No, I'm staying."

"Bella, you don't know what Jim's attorney is going to ask me," he said. "He wants to verify how the sexual abuse affected our relationship- they'll going to be asking me really personal questions."

"How personal?"

"Like... if you were a virgin or not our first time together, my previous experiences and how you compare... they might even ask about... sex."

"Edward, no! Don't tell them about that!"

"Bella, they're going to ask some questions about our relationship. It might be easier if you didn't hear what I have to say," he said. "The way they're going to ask things, I might not have a chance to explain what I mean without the judge striking it from the record."

"We love each other enough," I said, shaking my head. If he had something to say about sex with me I could take it.

In the courtroom, they brought Edward to the stand, much to my anxiety to testify about our life together.

"So, you are Isabella Swan's fiancé?" my lawyer asked.

"Yes," Edward said.

"What is your name and profession?"

"My name is Edward Masen, and I am a Pediatric Surgical Intern that specialized in Cardiology," he said. I could see the line between his eye brows- it was from worry.

"Relax, Dr. Masen," my lawyer said. "How long have you known Miss Swan?"

"It will be a year in August," Edward said, nodding. I could see he was tapping his foot beneath the stand nervously.

"How long have you been engaged?"

"Since April."

"Have you been engaged before?"

"No."

"Would you consider your engagement a traditional one?"

He faltered. "What do you mean by 'traditional'?"

"Like, did you plan out your marriage, when you'd have children, etc.?"

"I did have her father's permission, I consulted with my parents first, but I wouldn't call it 'traditional.'"

"Why not?"

"Because we suspected that Bella was pregnant when I proposed."

"You weren't certain?"

"No, I wasn't."

"But, you're a doctor."

"Yes."

"Did she turn out to be pregnant?"

"Yes, but," he sighed, nervously, "she... miscarried the day we were supposed to get married."

My lawyer nodded. "So, we've established that your relationship has been sexually active with her. Does she have any strange habits during sex?"

My whole body was aflame. I didn't even want to look at Charlie, I'm sure he was horrified at that question. Why did that have any relevance to this? Tears burned my eyes. How could they humiliate me anymore in this trial? Even my own lawyers? "Yes," he answered.

"What happens?"

"She wakes up crying later if she orgasms."

I looked up at Edward. His face was red and he was staring down at the floor, still tapping his foot. I cried after climaxing? I... no wait... yes, it was true. I'd usually wake up from a nightmare, crying. I was horrified that he had held back this information from me. I usually was so eager to please him, I forgot about myself.

"Dr. Masen, tell me... do you make her orgasm every time?"

"No, I try to avoid it, sometimes to keep her from waking up, crying." He looked up at me, his eyes... pleading for forgiveness for all that he was telling a room full of people. "It's usually preceded by nightmares."

"Can she remember these nightmares?"

"She says she can't, but she talks in her sleep," he said. "She's usually begging Jim to let her out or to stop touching her... I don't think she wants to remember, but a part of her won't let go."

"Your Honor, that's speculation from the witness," the defense lawyer interjected.

"Stricken from the record," the judge said.

They asked Edward a few more questions before the prosecution rested. I saw Edward's posture tense up and the line between his brows knit together when the defense got up to question. After they had gotten done with me, I knew they weren't going to go easy on Edward.

"Doctor Masen," the lawyer began, staring down at him. "You are only an intern?"

"Yes, that's right."

She asked a few questions about where he grew up, verified the tax bracket his parents were from, had questions about how he paid for medical school, pointing out that he came from old money without actually making either of them say it.

"You live in a 2,400 dollar a month three-bedroom two-bath apartment in the historic district of Seattle. Tell me, how does a surgical intern make that much?"

"I have a trust fund," Edward said.

"Ah, so you come from money, yes? What does your father do?"

"He's a doctor as well. Yes, my family has a lot of money," Edward said.

"So, you'd call yourself Old Money?" she finally asked. "Yes or no."

"Yes," Edward sighed. I knew what she was doing- trying to make me look like a gold digger- another blackmark on my character. Edward only got a portion of his trust fund every year through a financial advisor. His apartment, his utilities, his bills were all paid through that financial advisor and he met monthly with his accountant to sign all the checks. I knew this because I had been with him several times to start understanding his financial status if I was going to be his wife and to understand our prenuptual agreement.

"How did you meet Isabella?"

"She came to an engagement party I was throwing two of my oldest friends," Edward said.

"Oh, okay. So, was she a friend of the bride?"

"No."

"Okay, so she was a friend of a groom's?"

"Not then."

"That's not what I asked. At that time, was she a friend of the groom?"

"No," Edward sighed. I wanted to curl up and die.

"Objection, your Honor, this has nothing to do with the case," my lawyer said.

"I'm going somewhere with this," the defense lawyer said.

"Sustained, continue," the judge said. I knew how this looked, how they were making me look. It sounded like I was manipulative party-crashing gold digger at a rich doctor's apartment in an attempt to get lucky, and I hadn't done that at all. Alice had forced me to go along with it.

"You met her in August, right?"

"Yes," Edward said.

"And what day was it that you gave her a present for the first time?"

"Her birthday."

"On the medical records, her birthday is recorded as September 13th, correct?"

"Yes."

"That's less than two months after you met her, right?"

"And what did you give her?"

"A camera."

"How much was it worth?"

"Around fourteen-hundred dollars," he said, shrugging. "I got it on discount off a website because her good one had been ruined-"

"I didn't ask you that, Dr. Masen," the lawyer said snidely. "She claimed to be a virgin when you first met her, didn't she?"

"Yes," Edward said, looking annoyed.

"Did she bleed the first time you had sex?"

"No."

"Objection," my lawyer stood up. "We're trying sexual abuse by James Davis, this is a subjective question, your Honor. Hymens can be broken from everday activities, I can subpoena gynecologists and plastic surgeons that can testify towards this."

"Sustained," the Judge said.

"Dr. Masen." The lawyer went on to her next set of questions. "She's anorexic, yes?"

"Yes," he said.

"And you've seen her develop comorbidities pertaining to the illness?"

"Yes," Edward sighed.

"She has been diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder and anorexia nervosa, right?"

"Yes."

"Yet, you got her pregnant."

"Not on purpose!" Edward snapped.

"Yes or no?"

"Yes, she got pregnant," Edward sighed.

"Alright," she said. "Were you using birth control?"

"Yes," Edward said, exasperated. He was this close to losing his temper.

"What were you using?"

"The pill- Drospirenone," Edward said.

"Is there a chance she missed one pill?"

"Yes," Edward said. "She's on a lot of pills."

"You say it's a lot of pills, so why did you trust her to not miss any?"

"I thought she could handle it."

"You left birth control up to her in your relationship?"

"Yes. I thought she could-"

She interrupted him. She wouldn't let him defend himself. "So, you let a young woman, who had a history of mental disorders, take care of something so important, something that would affect her health drastically?"

Edward paused. "Yes," he admitted. He had told me when I told him I wanted to go on the pill that he trusted me to handle it, that I was well enough. I had been so proud, despite the fact that it was a secret, and it had seemed like such a relief. Now, I wasn't sure of my own motivations. Had I messed up my own prescription to get pregnant? I wasn't sure, suddenly. How honest was I? Was that what they were trying to do- make sure the jury doubted my character?

Then, they brought out to the photographs as evidence of me as a child when the medical examiners first found me- the naked pictures of me as a child. It was okay to take pictures of a naked child, as long it had "evidence" and black boxes over my vagina, but they didn't bother to cover my nipples since I was mostly flat-chested then. I hardly remembered it, only in bits and pieces. They had to photograph my naked back and hips to show the wounds. And my busted lip and bruises. That was it.

The jury went on to deliberate. It took them three hours.

To my surprise, they found Jim guilty. For some reason, I didn't feel vindicated. Not after all the humiliations we had all been through.

There were no reporters with flashbulbs and questions outside the courthouse, just bright, sunny weather. Did anybody care about what had just happened? It didn't seem like it. I felt alienated from Edward and even more from Charlie. So much of my private life with Edward was opened up to public record. My whole body flamed just to think of it. Why hadn't Edward told me that he saw a correlation between my orgasms and my nightmares before? I felt betrayed.

I didn't want to ever come back to Phoenix. Ever again.

EPOV

I came home from my three day shift to find that the mail had not been checked from our box. A good indicator that she hadn't left the apartment since I had last been here. Alice and Jasper were trying to come over to visit to get her to go out- I got the feeling that Alice was having a difficult time handing this any longer personally, and this was having a hard time handling it for herself. I had tried to help Bella, but my love had done more harm than good, especially during the trial. I should have told her- I was mentally taking notes when we made love and not telling her. I let her overwork herself to bring me to climax without worrying about myself to avoid the nightmares and crying spells. How selfish was I?

I unlocked the door. She had left the lights and the TV on. I found her, laying on the couch, her eyes glazed over. Nothing had really been moved since I had left except a couple of water bottles and a few wadded up tissues. She didn't respond to me, anymore. I doubt she even heard me walk in the door, as if she were asleep, but her eye were open. A moment of panic seized me, one that attacked me every time I saw her like this; was she dead? I touched her arm- bony, but still slightly warm. No rigamortis. There was a decaying smell about her- like her kidneys were shutting down or her liver was failing or her digestive tract was eating itself from the acid. It was awful, sometimes. I wondered if she was dead, sometimes, until her eyes blinked. I breathed a sigh of relief as her eyes blinked at me- finally.

And still, she looked thinner. And thinner. She seemed to be in a sleep-like state when I'd find her, but I knew it was either she was sleeping too much or not enough. Her beautiful, full lips were pale and there were purple circles under her eyes. I found long, mahogany hairs all over the floor everywhere. Her hair brush had to be combed clean twice a week, so much of it was falling out. It was becoming ratty, thin, unkempt. She rarely showered anymore (not even with me), she had yet to find a job or put any more work into her photography book that started off so promising. We had started fighting about things like how she'd never pick up after herself any more or never wanted to go out because she was tired and her response was always a tearful "because you're never here for me, Edward!" It didn't make sense at first, but then it started to. I wondered if she was using laxatives while I was gone- if she was, she was hiding the boxes extremely well. I knew she wasn't leaving the house to go for extended runs. Her Yoga DVDs were collecting dust on the entertainment center. I had heard her throwing up several times, caught her a few times as well. She never called me at work because the few times she did, she was crying over something that I found little or stupid, and then, she'd shriek at me. She finally stopped calling or coming by all together.

The relationship that made me rush to get out of the hospital once was becoming a burden to me. I felt like I was carrying her, while trying to get over my own grief of losing a pregnancy, I was risking losing her all together. I feared coming home to her because I worried she was dead, but still, I rushed to her. I heard her say in muttered, private phone conversations, "I don't know what to do. Maybe I'll go back to Forks and live with Charlie." It was like a knife being twisted inside me. She wanted to leave me, but didn't know how, after our child died. It was like living with a ghost. Charlie's tone was tight and harsh with me, now- I had measured his daughter's sexual ability, humiliated her in a court room, and told a devistating secret- my dick made her cry. What a twisted secret. He wouldn't even look at me or Bella when we walked out of the courthouse in Phoenix. What father wouldn't hate me for that?

To top it all off, she preferred sleeping on the couch these days. She didn't want to share a bed with me after her birthday. It had been so promising on her twenty-sixth birthday.

I had come home to her showered, dressed.

"Bella, did you clean?"

"Mm-hmm," she said, smiling, nervously. "Can we go out?"

"Of course, love," I said, fighting back tears of joy. I couldn't deny this Bella anything. This was the Bella I wanted to see again. "Let me take a shower." She smiled back.

I took her to a restaurant, where she smiled and chattered and charmed me and the server.

"You know," she said, slicing up a pork chop with mint jelly. "I really think I'm going to finish that book," she said, waiving the tiny slice of meat around with her fork. "I work on it today- really, I did- don't you think the picture of the Marina is one of my best?"

"Yeah," I agreed. Before I could say anything else, she shoved three of her fire-roasted potatoes onto my plate without asking.

"You should try these, they're the best," she said. "I found a list of literary agents- hey, do you think we should have Emmett and Rosalie over sometime? I've been dying to see baby Sarah."

She begged me not to embarrass her by telling the server it was her birthday, so I didn't. Cake was a "bad food" and a big step.

We went out to the marina to watch the ships and she told me about grand plans about how this birthday was really going to turn things around and gain weight and get better. We made plans to honor our lost child and she asked me if I wanted to go forth with wedding plans, and I said yes. We talked about having a child in the future, when she was better. She wanted a family, now. I wanted to bring up the subject of a high-risk pregnancy obstetrician, but she was talking a mile a minute and wouldn't let me. There was time, I thought. We have all the time in the world to talk about this.

I was excited- I could live with a woman like this. In my excitement, I didn't realize that she was pulling all her old tricks at dinner- distracting me, not letting me ask questions, moving her food around onto my plate, cutting hers up so it looked like she had eaten, putting uneaten food on to her salad plate.

As we got home, she held my hand in the car, it was quiet. "This reminds me of when I used to spend the night with you while I was living with Alice," she said. "I used to get so nervous."

"I know," I said. "I'm so glad you're feeling better. I love you." The physician in me should have known better. Depression doesn't just end like that, in a blink. I told myself this was different, we were different because our love was special.

It was like reexploring each other up the staircase to our apartment- she was frail and bony and sinewy, again, her ribs sticking out under her thin cotton dress and thick corded cardigan. I unlocked the door, and carried her in.

"Mmm, Edward," she sighed, kissing me. "Do you still love me like this?" she asked, unbuttoning the top part of her dress, exposing almost flat breasts.

"I'll always love you," I promised.

"Really really?"

"Really really," I said. I lifted her feather-light frame up and carried her into the bedroom and set her on the bed, pressing kisses to her. I had loved her when she was underweight, ignoring the blatant joints and bones. I could love her, now- she had forgiven me. That was all that mattered.

"I haven't taken the pill in a while," she admitted. "Can you go get a condom?"

"Of course," I said, loosing my tie, ripping it off. I tore my clothes off between the bathroom and the bedroom, finding her in the bed, having done the same. She stood up, reluctantly, and came to me, like two familiar ships, passing in the night, our mouths met and then, something about her became harsher, almost demanding. This was the new Bella. We had just been through several major traumas. I could love her through them.

As I kissed her, I reached for her breasts. They had become almost nonexistant with her weight loss. They were almost round on the bottom before the miscarriage, but now, they were almost gone. They were still breasts, though. The nipples stuck out. My thumbs grazed them and she moaned, but it was a different kind of moan from the one I was used to. She suddenly scratched my back with her jagged nails- so much so, I wondered if she was drawing blood in doing so. I cried out in pain.

It never dawned on me that this was becoming rough sex until almost too late.

"Oh, I missed you," she moaned into our kiss. "Edward, fuck me in ass."

"No," I said. I'd never fuck her in the ass- ever. I had never done that on anyone, I never would. "You're kidding, right?"

She smiled, embarrassed, and looked away. "Yes," she said. She sank down to her knees and took me into her mouth. The sucking immediately was too hard.

"Bella- Bella!"

"Hmm?"

I struggled for a moment. Her eyes looked up at me, her cheeks red. I had humiliated her at the trial. God, how could I ever forgive myself for that?

"It's your birthday," I said. "What do you want to do?"

She smiled nervously. "Um... Would you take me bent over?"

"Of course," I said. It was a position we had tried before and enjoyed, but it had been in a much gentler situation. If the only way to obtain her forgiveness was to go to the moon and bring back green cheese, I'd do it.

She climbed up on the bed, facing away from me. I climbed up behind her, on my knees as she went down on her hands, her butt sticking out. I didn't even have to spread her cheeks, she was so thin. Grabbing her hips with my left hand, I took my dick with my right and pushed straight into her. We both cried out, but because she was so dry it was painful. "Ow!" she cried. I pulled out and she settled down on her hip and looked at her.

"You're too dry, love."

"I never thought we'd need KY."

"There's no shame in it. Let me check the bathroom," I said, getting up, limping over. I checked around the bathroom. I knew we had no KY jelly. I found a tub of vaseline. How disgusting, but it would do at a time like this. I limped back into the bedroom. "Vaseline," I said, wrinkling my nose. "It'll do."

"Okay," she said, taking it, putting it on and then reassuming the position

Rubbing my cock a few times, I gripping her hip again, and pushed in, again. This time wasn't so bad. I had to push the thought of having to use lubrication to simply make love to her out of my mind to continue. We never needed lube in the past. She grunted with every thrust. "You like that?" a sinister side of me asked.

"Harder," she breathed. "Hurt me." The rhythm increased and the sound of our bodies slapping together filled the room, the back of her pelvis poking my hips, sure to leave bruises. "Oh, God, Edward!" she moaned. "Pull my hair."

"Bella-"

"You said- anything- I- want," she breathed with each thrust. I had said so. I had never beaten her or knowingly caused her pain before. Hesitantly, I tugged on her hair. "Harder," she moaned. "Harder, Edward! Don't be a pussy, goddamnit!" with that, I grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her head back, causing her to cry out, arching her back, causing her scars in the arch in her back to wrinkle in the excess hanging skin that had no fat to fill it. I felt the walls of her vagina close in around me. "Hit me."

"What?" I asked, letting go of her hair. A handful came out with it.

"Hit me hard," she snarled, looking at me over her shoulder. I pulled my arm back to strike her, open-handed, on the ass. "Spank me, come on!" she snapped. Before I could swing, I looked her in the eye and I saw something I didn't like- I couldn't explain what it was. Something along the lines of self-loathing, disgust- in herself.

She blamed herself for what happened...

My arm dropped and my penis went flaccid inside her.

She saw my reaction and a look of sheer terror, then embarrassment flashed across her face.

"I just can't hit you, Bella," I said, pulling out.

"But," she sputtered, spinning around to face me. "But you said- anything- WHY, Edward? Why can't you?"

"I won't do that to you," I said, harshly. "Just like I won't lock you in a closet for days at at time, I won't spank you with a studded belt and I certainly won't be the one that cuts you off from society."

I sat down on the edge of the bed, dejectedly, realizing what a wall was between us. For a fleeting moment, I felt the disgust, the self-hate she suffered. "Edward," she said, sounding tearful. "I never said you were keeping me from people."

"No, you're the one doing it to yourself," I replied.

Shrinking back from me in shock and humilation, she grabbed a blanket and ran out of the room, wrapping herself in it.

After that night, she slept on the couch and later, I found her in the bathroom. She had figured out a way to lock the bathroom door- by opening a drawer so it blocked the door from opening. I could hear the quiet sobs that she tried to conceal as I knocked on the door, begging her to come out. "I'm fine, Edward!" she replied in the best normal voice she could. We both knew she wasn't.

All my attempts to apologize for my brashness, to reconnect with her failed. I had meant what I said. What I should have said was I love you too much to do that. It came out like an accusation. I beat myself up, internally, thinking, You dumb shit, look what you did! She wanted to run from me, now. I wanted to run from me, but I had no where to go. I should have held her and told her I wanted things the way they used to be, but I couldn't. She never looked me in the eye anymore. I'd come home from work, kiss her hello, and we'd have a few strained conversations. I'd tell her what I was doing- taking a shower, making dinner, going to bed- all in hopes her frail figure would join me. She spent all her time on the couch, never moving. I wanted my Bella back. I wanted to hug her and kiss her and cry with her that we were going to be alright, as if there would be a magic moment where she'd decide to get better. It hadn't happened, yet.

"Bella," I said, now that she was awake. She glanced up at me, then looked away. "Are you coming to Chicago with me?" It was my father's birthday this weekend.

"No," she said, her eyes bleary. "I'm staying here." Christ. The extra 1st class plane ticket was going to waste.

"Bella, I love you," I said. It was no use arguing. Bella was not going to change her mind. She would probably spend the weekend in tears, locked in the bathroom, afraid for Thea Nicky to see her like this. I wasn't sure I could see her, even.

"I love you too," she mouthed, staring at the floor. She could not say it to my face.

Taking my cell phone, I went outside.

I called the people who knew me better than anyone.

"Edward? I knew you were going to call tonight."

"Hi, Mom," I said. The words sounded like a scared teenager, not me. The tears welled up in my eyes.

"How is she?" Mom asked.

"Mom, I..." I began. Finally, the tears spilled down my cheeks. "It's bad, Mom."

"Son," Mom said gently, the way she did when I was a child with a skinned knee before pouring alcohol on it, making it sting. "Son, listen to me."

"She's not coming to Chicago," I blurted out. "I'm afraid to leave her alone. I have this recurring nightmare that I'll walk in the door and find her corpse laying on the couch with flies and maggots all over her. She never showers anymore, she sleep on the couch, she never picks up after herself, she never works on her book, she doesn't care about getting a job-"

"A miscarriage is difficult to live through," Mom said quietly. I couldn't argue- Mom and Dad knew all too well. "We knew she was in a fragile state when you started seeing her, son. She's a good girl, but... Your father and I agree she needs rehabilitation."

"No," I said. "Charlie's insurance is about to drop her. It's shitty insurance as it is, they'll only pay for six weeks."

"We need to act swiftly, then," Mom said.

"No, no interventions," I snapped. "She won't go if we do that."

"It doesn't have to be like on TV," she said. "Take a day off from work, but leave the house like you normally do. Call everyone that knows about her problem that loves her. Saturday night. We'll all be there."

"Dad's birthday- his plans-"

"Dad and I can change our plans for Bella," Mom said. I hated it when she referred to my father as 'Dad' and not 'your father' or 'Ted,' like I was kid. "Stay calm, Edward. You can't do this on your own."

"Mom, I'm a professional-"

"A professional surgeon. You don't know the ways of the mind," she said. "You don't know all the ways of the heart, son."

I composed myself and went back into the apartment.

The bathroom door was cracked open, and she stood, the water in the shower running, in her panties and that was it.

She was worse than before. This had to be the thinnest she had ever been. I could only see the profile of her frail form as she pinched the excess skin around her concave stomach over the tendons. There was no fat to fill it out, but she looked at it with disgust. I wanted to go to her and pick her up and beg her to eat and it just wasn't that easy. I was failing her.

She saw me, staring at her, in the mirror. She frantically slammed the door.

She'd die, soon.

BPOV

"Isabella," Edward said softly. I looked down into my coffee mug. My polished spoon floated beside it, it was a perfect forty-five degrees from the sugar canister. I hadn't listened to a word he had been saying. "Are you listening?"

"I'm sorry," I said. "I wasn't paying attention."

"You've got to eat," he said. "Your brain is going to start cannibalizing itself."

Out of my irritation, I wanted to shout at him that he wasn't a neurologist, but this was my Edward. I didn't want to take advantage of his love and understanding. I loved him so much, although I couldn't understand why he loved me back at all. He took such good care of me, despite the fact that I couldn't take care of myself. The last time I had eaten solid food was about three weeks ago- it had been half a sandwich. I had been able to eat protein milkshakes at my best, once to three times a day. They tasted terrible, but I didn't believe I deserved any better. While Edward was gone, I found myself craving food he had thrown itI was nothing more than a stupid, ugly girl. I hurt people unnecessarily.

I had stopped wearing the heart pendant and my engagement ring. I tried to push Edward away, give him subtle signs that I wasn't right for him. There was a trophy wife somewhere out there that would do a much better job of satisfying him and going out with his friends and being social, instead of staying at home, watching TV and feeling sorry for herself. My photography projects were laying unfinished on my laptop's hard drive. I didn't have the energy to work on it, but I had all the time in the world. The antidepressants weren't doing anything for me anymore. The last time Edward and I had attempted to make love had been on my twenty-sixth birthday. The experience was horrifying- I couldn't even bear to think of it. I had been so stupid, asking Edward to physically hurt me so I could get off. I was so humiliated, I could hardly stand to look at him anymore.

I couldn't stand for him to see me naked, either. Once I had been so used to him seeing me naked, he used to appreciate it, but now, there was a look of pain in his eyes when he saw the bones poking out of my skin. My elbows were larger than my forearms, my knees larger than my thighs. My mouth looked permanently drawn, like a mummy's, all the time, my teeth showing garishly.

I knew I was utterly thin and disgusting-looking, but a part of me felt like I didn't deserve anything better. That was the reason why I refused to go through with any wedding details any further, too. For some reason, Edward still insisted that he wanted to marry me, but I wanted nothing more than to break the engagement, although I had nothing left but to go home to Forks if I did. I had no job, no savings, Alice and Jasper were newlyweds, I couldn't crash on their couch if I broke up with Edward. And going home to Charlie, the first thing he'd do would be to freak out like mad. I hardly talked to him, simply because I was afraid to hear his thoughts on my sexual misdeeds with Edward. It had gotten to the point that I sent Charlie pre-cooked food through Alice, because I was afraid for him to see me like this. I hadn't seen Charlie since the trial. Like Edward said, parents knew you better than anybody.

"Can we go home?" I asked. "I'll eat at home."

"I'm not feeding you Ensure," he said. "Please, Bella, eat some real food for me."

"I can't," I said. I wanted to, but it all felt so heavy on my stomach and I usually ended up getting rid of it. That was the nice way to say purging it. And I was convinced that that was much worse for me than actually not eating it in the first place. I thought I could see tears filling up Edward's eyes, but they didn't spill over. God, I was doing this to him. We had both cried the night I lost the baby. I miscarried. Because I wasn't fit to carry children. I was the screw-up. And then, the night of the trial, we both cried, again, which had been more me out of my own desperation and humiliation. I caused him to cry on my birthday. Why was I doing this to him? Couldn't he just see that he was so much better off without me? I was waiting for him to dump me so I could crawl back home to Charlie in my pathetic state, just like when I was eleven, a helpless child. I was still a helpless child, it didn't matter that I had had a relationship, sex and been pregnant, I just wasn't capable of having a normal life. I couldn't be a photographer, I couldn't be a daughter, I couldn't be a best friend, I couldn't be a Literature graduate student, I couldn't be Edward's wife. I was just messed up. This depression owned me. That's all I was. How foolish had I been? "I'm sorry. Can we just leave?"

"Alright," he said softly. He reached over and touched my face. I felt horrible for just being touched by someone as wonderful as Edward.

I was dirty.

As we left, I saw people look at me in disgust. I was a freak. What was I doing with this perfect specimen of a man? This ugly, withered pile of bones? Alice told me that on New Year's Eve, Jasper caught Rosalie telling Edward that she couldn't understand what he saw in me. That she couldn't understand how he could make love to 'that pile of bones.' Alice and I had laughed at how snotty was Rosalie was at that time. Rosalie had it all; a baby, a husband, a career, an education, parents, friends, she was gorgeous like a model. All I had was my body- a pile of bones. A corrupted excuse of bones. Let them show.

I sat in Edward's car dejectedly as he drove home. I let him take the car to work, now. I never needed it when he was gone. It was impeccably clean, for once. I wondered when he had taken the time to clean it.

At our apartment, I got out of the car, and stumbled. Edward caught me. I was so weak, I could hardly stand on my own.

"Sorry," I muttered.

"Let me carry you," he said. I didn't want him to, but he picked me up. It was physically hard for me to climb stairs. I had to rest, now. I just wanted to lay down in bed.

I was surprised when the lights were on in our apartment- and I could hear voices inside. "Edward, what's going on?" I asked as he opened the door.

"Just come in," he said softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I knew my father, Carlisle, Esme, Ted, Liz, Alice, Jasper, Angela, Jacob, Emmett, and even Rosalie were inside the apartment. I knew Rosalie was here simply for Emmett.

"Hi, everyone," I said softly, mostly because I didn't have the energy to speak out loud. I knew why they were here and while it made me happy to see so many people who loved me, it was also embarrassing. Charlie was the first person to hug me- hard. Everyone took turns hugging me. Everything was somber and quiet. I couldn't help but start to cry. "I know why you're all here," I said. "An intervention."

"It's not an intervention," Charlie said, helping me sit down. "An intervention is where you tell somebody they go to treatment or we stop supporting them."

"Yeah, we've all seen the A&E show," Alice said. "We'll be there for you forever. No matter what."

"Yes," Liz said. "We just want you to get some help."

"Everybody in this room loves you," Ted said. I looked over at Rosalie, who diverted her eyes from me. "We don't know what we'd do if… something happened to you."

"So, everybody wants me to go to inpatient?"

"We've got a really good place picked out," Carlisle said. "It's only about an hour east of here. We can still come and visit at least once a week."

"You promise?" I asked. "When do I leave?"

"Tonight," Edward said.

"Alice and Esme have almost finished packing for you," Carlisle said.

"Okay," I said. "But what about when insurance runs out?"

"The money will be there," Charlie said.

"Dad- your pension-"

"The money will be there," Carlisle repeated, patting me on the shoulder.

"Dad-"

"This is your life, Bells," Charlie said. "I'm will to accept some charity."

"She's our daughter, too," Esme said. "It takes a village."

She was insinuating I was a child, again. Maybe it would be good to let go of all the things I couldn't handle. And just let other people do it all for me.

"Just let us finish packing your suitcases," Alice said, not letting me think. "We'll take care of everything. Relax, some."

It was too stuffy in the living room, so I went out on the balcony. Edward followed me.

"I'll be there every chance I get," he said. "My parents love you, Bella. A lot more than you realize. Consider it an engagement present."

"It's for me, though," I said, disappointed.

"If you come out okay, it's an engagement present for us both," he said. He picked up my face in his hands. "Isabella, I just want you to be happy. Please, let me hold you before you leave."

I almost immediately told him no, but I worried I'd die before I finished rehab.

His arms encircled me, so forgiving, so loving. He didn't care that I had asked him to hit me, I realized. I was so stupid for ever doubting him. I blamed him and myself for what we had lost. I wanted to blame him instead of myself. I knew someone was to blame. I hoped it would be me in the end. I wanted better for Edward in the end.

He squeezed me to him.

"What if I'm a different person when I come out?" I asked, pressing my face into his chest, using his shirt for my tears. "What if I'm somebody you can't love?"

"Just trust that God's going to get us both through this," he said. I could feel his strong, heavy heartbeat, the whirl of his lungs. "You know, I've operated on kids that just didn't have a ghost of a chance, that I didn't expect to make it out of the anesthesia, and they did. Sometimes, hope is all you have."

"Excuse me," Rosalie said, stepping out onto the balcony. "Can I have a moment alone with Bella?" She and I had had an uneasy friendship between us since New Year's Eve.

"Anything you can say to Bella you can say in front of me," Edward said, hotly. Things hadn't been the same since New Year's Eve between them. I knew I was to blame.

"I know you came tonight because of Emmett," I said. I knew she didn't really care about me.

"No, I came because I know you're sick," she said. "And that Edward loves you enough to stick by you for over a year. And I'm sorry for doubting that. If Emmett and Edward love you, I do, too. You're not going anywhere… metaphorically, I mean."

"You got an apology out of Rose, that's a good one," Edward said. I knew that she never apologized- ever. For the first time- in a long time, Edward and I shared a smile- a real one. Not me faking happiness in an effort to try to feign recovery. She glowered at Edward.

"I apologize… when they occasion calls for it," she said bitterly.

"Bella?" Alice asked, sticking her head down the door. "We have your bags packed. Are you ready to go?"

"I guess so," I said, waiting for Edward to release his grip on me. "Let's go before I lose my nerve."

"Wait, Bella," Edward said.

"Yes?"

"The pendant and the ring," he said. "Take them with you."

"I can't wear the ring," I said. "It's too big."

"Take it with you," he said. "I'm not giving up on you. It'll fit you, again."

"I'll get it," Alice said, darting back into the apartment.

"Edward, what if something happens to them?" I asked. "What if they don't let me wear them?"

"They will," he said. We were alone on the balcony. He kissed me, gently. "I love you, Bella."