As always: Everything and anything related to the Twilight saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

Special thanks and much adoration to my speedy beta Kelly.

"I'm not supposed to love you, I'm not supposed to care, I'm not supposed to live my life wishing you were there. I'm not supposed to wonder where you are or what you do...I'm sorry I can't help myself, I'm in love with you."
~Anonymous

Chapter Sixteen: S is for Sorry

When Edward was eighteen, he nearly got Bella killed, and to this day, the memory haunted him. He could still hear the deafening, screams of agony, the smell of her blood, the way her eyes kept fluttering as she tried to stop them from closing.

It was supposed to be a fun day. There they were cutting class for the first time in their entire scholastic careers. They had planned it out for weeks. They would drive toward the school, act like they were going in and at the last moment, when the last student entered, they would book it out of there.

It had gone flawlessly. Everyone had seen them hanging out by Edward's car; they had thought it smarter to just have one car with them instead of two, especially with Bella's clunky red truck.

They had greeted everyone as usual, and as Eric Yorkie entered the building, Bella and Edward hopped back into his Volvo and drove right out of Forks and into the Quileute Reservation.

Edward had driven to the cliff dozens of times with his brother, so the drive there wasn't all too difficult for him. He could drive there blindfolded, but he was more than sure that Bella wouldn't appreciate the stunt all that much.

Bella spent the whole car ride fidgeting in her seat; nervous that they were going to get caught, but Edward kept assuring her that there was no way anyone would be by the waterside at nine in the morning. It hadn't calmed her down, but he knew that she was just as excited about ditching school as he was.

They were good students, who never cut class, excelled in their academics, and participated in school activities. Ditching school was something none of the teachers would ever expect of them. When they realized that the two were gone, they would just assume that they were absent.

When Edward had stopped the car a minute walk from the waterside, Bella had stopped fidgeting, but she sat stoically in her seat, her eyes open widely as she stared at the cliff side.

She pointed to it, and Edward nodded. He knew what she was asking without her having to say a word. He could remember the sound of Bella's loud breathing in the quiet car as she turned to tell him that there was no way she would jump from that high up.

Of course, in the grand fashion of the first fourteen years of their friendship, he persuaded her to jump, and it has been his biggest regret to date.

Watching her fall was painful. Whenever he so much as caught a glimpse of the scar on her wrist, he could close his eyes and see her thin frame colliding with the mountain side, and he could her yelling, as she called out for help.

He would never forget watching her father and the hospital residents wheeling Bella away. The sounds of the wheels sliding across the linoleum floors of the hospital are forever engrained in the soundtrack of his life as are the beeping of the heart monitors and Charlie Swan's threats to his life. Though looking at it now, the threats were pretty funny.

Waiting for her to wake up had been torture. Anytime her eyes so much as fluttered, a surge of hope would rush through him, only to be diminished by nothing happening.

And when she woke up, all she had said to him was, 'I guess I've got another story to tell my children'. Not, 'Edward, you stupid, piece of shit, you almost got me killed' or 'Edward, I hate you, never speak to me again', not even a 'you're gonna pay for this'.

Nothing.

She didn't even make him apologize. When Emmett had nearly killed her in the pool years before, she had tortured him for weeks, making him buy her tampons at the pharmacy and wearing makeup around the town, but for him…nothing.

He never understood it. Even when he tried to apologize, she would brush him off; she still did.

It was why he had lied to her in the shower Sunday morning. He wanted the letter S. He wanted to give her the apology she deserved from him, an apology for everything he had ever done to hurt her, physically and emotionally.

He had to show her, how sorry he truly was for everything.

So after his shower, he hurried off to his room and after eight failed attempts he eventually unfolded the correct paper with the letter S written on it. The letter A had been his initial choice, but in the back of his mind he was hoping he could draw that later for another occasion, so he opted for the letter S, instead.

He hid the slip of paper in his sock drawer and began formulating plans for how to go about the letter, and how to go about getting Bella to finally let him apologize.

=x=

On Monday morning, Edward found Bella lying across the couch in her pajamas, eating a granola bar. He wondered what she was doing, just sitting there, not dressed for work.

"Why aren't you getting ready to leave?" he asked her, as he adjusted his tie. He had tied it too tight and now it was starting to suffocate him.

"I'm taking the day off. I'm injured," she jested, though Edward didn't find any real humor in what she had said.

"Sorry," he grunted as he finally loosened his tie.

"Enough with the damn apologies already. Go to work, land another client, make millions, and get sued by parents of kids with dozens of cavities."

This time, Edward laughed heartily as he bent down and kissed Bella's forehead as he headed out the door.

He froze right outside the door, leaning against the wall beside it.

He had subconsciously kissed Bella goodbye, albeit on the forehead, but he had done it without realizing it. He had watched his father say goodbye to his mother in that fashion for years. It was incredibly affectionate, and he didn't even realize that he had done it.

It felt so natural to wish her a good day of rest and kiss her like that. It was such an intimate thing to do. A kiss on the forehead could mean so much, and the fact that he couldn't believe that it happened without any predisposition for it, was baffling him. How had it been possible to not of even realized that he had swooped down and done it?

On the drive to work it was all he could think about, all he could feel. He found it amusing how his lips felt different, almost as if they tingled, vibrated under his curious fingers, and for a brief moment he laughed out how outlandish the idea was, the fact that his lips felt different after kissing her, but he couldn't help it. He did feel different.

And as he sat in his office, he still couldn't figure out why it felt so odd. It had felt so right when he had done it, so natural like it was something he always did, but of course, there was also the sense that there was something very wrong about it, something almost forbidden, like he wasn't supposed to do it.

It was all he could think about all day, that and Bella on the couch probably watching those soap operas she said she didn't like but he knew she really enjoyed. He wondered if she was okay, and if her back felt any better. He wondered what she was doing, and to be frank, it was quite distracting.

During his meeting with the executive vice president of the agency, he had not once but twice drifted off in his own thoughts about Bella and what she was doing at home. Was she actually watching soap operas? Was she catching up on some reading? Was she cleaning? Was she thinking about him?

That thought gave him mental whiplash.

Why did he even care if Bella was thinking about him?

Tuesday didn't prove to be any better for Edward either. Bella had left for work before him that morning, and for some reason the thought that he hadn't gotten the chance to say 'have a good day' bugged him.

As he collected his belongings in his bedroom, he spotted the scrapbook Bella had given to him almost eight years prior at their high school graduation. He chuckled grabbing the leather bound book off his bookshelf. His fingers rubbed the worn material as a smile spread across his face. It had been years since he had sat down to look through it, but he remembered Bella's face when she had given it to him.

Bella had looked so nervous especially after he had handed her the present he had bought her. After she opened the jewelry case and saw the necklace he had saved up for, she handed him over the book with as much trepidation as possible.

She had quickly told him that the present was nowhere near as good as his, but he didn't care how much money she spent on him. When he had opened the book, he had been blown away. She had spent time putting together entire book of memories, everything from the good to the bad, and on the last page she had written, 'All good things must come to an end. Thank fuck we're great and we're gonna last forever!'

He spent a good part of his morning looking through the scrapbook. He hadn't even realized how much time he had spent looking at it until Alice knocked on his door.

"Edward, what are you doing?" Alice asked as he continued to skim through the scrapbook in his office, not bothering to look up at her as she entered his office.

"Just looking at some pictures," was his response as his fingers traced over a funny picture of him and Bella on a roller coaster at Disneyland when they were eight.

"Why?" she questioned as he watched her from the corner of his eye, walk toward him, holding his lunch.

"Don't know. I just felt like it," he answered, off handedly, not really wanting to answer.

"Is that the scrapbook Bella gave you at your high school graduation?"

Alice, though she went to a different school, had spent lots of time at the Cullen house because her parents traveled a lot during the summer months on business. She had even attended his and Bella's graduation and Emmett's two years prior.

"Yeah. I never realized how much time she put into it. I mean, you see this right here?" he pointed to a strawberry candy wrapper. Alice nodded, egging him on to continue.

"I gave Bella a piece of this candy at the supermarket the day that we met."

Alice stared at her cousin with a knowing expression on her face, though Edward saw it differently.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" he asked her as he closed the scrapbook.

"You love her."

"Excuse me?"

"You love Bella," Alice repeated, a smile that Edward would call smug, forming on her face.

"Of course I love Bella. She's my best friend," he retorted angrily, not believing that Alice would have to question him about that.

"I know that, but that's not what I meant. You love her; you're in love with her."

Edward scoffed and held back his laugh, so as not to anger Alice. She was small, but she could kick quite hard.

"What are you talking about?" he asked as he started to rummage around in the container holding his lunch.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. You're in love with Bella, and you know what I think? I think that you've always been in love with her. I mean it would explain why you haven't settled down yet. Jasper and I were talking-" Edward cut her off.

"You and Jasper talk about me?" he asked, incredulously. He was getting upset, but over what, he didn't know. Alice rolled her eyes at Edward and continued to speak.

"Of course we do. We're engaged, we talk about almost everything, and he mentioned something to me, and I have a funny feeling he may be right."

"What?" Edward asked in a huff, sounding more like a petulant five year old than an adult.

"You only date blondes. Sure, you probably find them attractive, but Jasper brought up the fact that maybe the real reason you only date blondes is because a brunette makes you think of Bella, and the problem is, that the girl isn't Bella. You're in love with her, admit it!"

"You're out of your mind, Alice," Edward protested as he shook his head and pointed toward the door, hoping she would get the hint and leave.

"Whatever, Edward, keep believing that, but it's as clear as day."

"We live in Seattle, Alice. There are no clear days," he replied smugly as Alice rolled her eyes and closed his door.

Edward stayed home on Wednesday. If he was being honest with himself, it was because he didn't want to deal with another session of Alice berating him. She was completely out of her mind, or so he kept telling himself.

He wasn't in love with Bella. Yes, he loved her, but he also loved Emmett and Alice, albeit the fact that he wasn't fucking either of them, it was relatively the same kind of love.

He spent most of the morning sitting by the window in the living room; a pass time of his. He liked to watch how everything changed with the days. In the winter, there was frost on the window and icicles hanging from trees. In the spring, the leaves were starting to grow back, the air was warmer. In the summer, the trees were green, the streets crowded with people. And in the fall the leaves would fall, and the whole cycle would start all over again.

He loved to watch how everything changed.

And as he sat there and watched as the streets were beginning to become more crowded with people as Memorial Day neared, another season coming, he wondered how much had really changed.

Looking around the apartment it still looked the same, but the moment he stepped into his bedroom, it felt different, almost…empty and he couldn't quite explain the cold that crept into his bones.

Something had changed and he didn't know what.

At around three he received a phone call from a stressed and flustered Bella. Whenever either one of them was bogged down at work, they would call the other to relax, but today whatever Edward did seemed to be futile. Bella's voice continued to be extremely high and whiny, for lack of a better word.

When he hung up the phone, it was simple what he had to do.

He began by finally getting his lazy ass into gear and taking a shower. Once he was out, he got dressed quickly and headed out to the supermarket, stopping at the Godiva on his way back.

He was going to make linguini in white clam sauce for Bella; it was one of her favorite dishes. It was light yet filling, and for dessert they would have strawberries dipped in white, milk, and dark chocolate. He even stocked up on some more candles to set a calm mood for when she entered.

As he set everything up, he decided to raid his own treasure trove of toys, pulling out a velvet blue blindfold, a green feather, and some oils.

Tonight would be slow, and he'd be damned if he cared that it was only Wednesday. It just meant that Saturday would be Bella's day.

He called her at around six to see when she was leaving the office, and he had been lucky to catch fifteen minutes away. After hanging up the phone, he dropped the fresh linguini into the pot of boiling water and placed the pot with the clams on simmer. He went around the living room, hiding his toys underneath the couch (having cleaned under it early), and he lit all the candles, a sweet lilac aroma quickly filling the air.

He dimmed the lights in the room, so that it matched the dim glow of the candles and he waited for Bella. When she stumbled into the apartment, her hair, which had been pinned up earlier, looked like it had lost a battle with a hairbrush. Half of it was down, while the other half was still under the pins.

"Hey," she greeted, as she closed the door, still not noticing the ambiance.

"Hey, Bells. I know today sucked," he answered, walking towards her.

"Sucked real-" but before she could finish her thought, she glanced around the room, her face illuminated by the candles glow. For a moment, Edward was mesmerized by the way the light played on her porcelain skin.

"What's all this?" she asked, her voice suddenly breathy and she walked into the kitchen.

"Like I said, you had a shitty day, you deserve a good night."

"You didn't have to do this," she remarked as her eyes took in the candles and the dinner table.

"I did," was Edward's only response as he grabbed her hand and sat her down at the table. She smiled across at him, and he felt a sudden skip of his heart that he couldn't explain. He dismissed it as he removed the tops off the pots on the stove.

"So what's for dinner?" Bella asked eagerly as she tossed her shoes off into to a corner.

"Linguini in white clam sauce."

Bella squealed and again that familiar pang hit Edward's chest. He wondered if it was the cheese fries he had for lunch.

"Oh, man. I'm so hungry. Hurry up, it smells so good."

Edward chuckled and dropped some onto a plate for each of them and sat down, handing Bella hers. She instantly twirled some onto a fork and ate it.

"Mhmm…so good," she groaned as she forked some more.

Edward stared at her as she ate contentedly. She looked so much more relax than what he could imagine she looked like this afternoon.

"Why are you staring at me?" she asked through a mouthful of pasta. He grimaced before shaking his head and laughing.

"What?" she almost whined in response.

"I can't take you seriously with your hair looking like that," he pointed out and she frowned. Edward smiled shyly and stood up and walked towards her. Bella just watched him, almost mesmerized by the movement.

He stood behind her and started slipping the bobby pins out of her hair, one by one, until ten small pins lay next to Bella's cup.

"Thank you," she rasped as Edward slipped her hair. He began to massage it, imagining how tender it must feel from being up all day.

"That feels good," she moaned as she tilted her head back, her eyes fluttering close.

"Come with me," he whispered, pulling her up off the chair. She grabbed his hand and followed him onto the couch.

"What are you doing?" she asked, as he bent down in front of her, slipping his hand under the couch.

"Shh," was all he said, as his hands grabbed at her left foot. He began pressing his thumbs into the soles of her foot before moving down to the heel. Bella watched, gaping, as she reveled the feeling. He did the same with the right foot before standing up on his knees until he was face to face with her.

"Strip for me."

"What?" she asked, her eyes wide. "It's Wednesday, Edward."

"Just do it," he replied, quietly, staring into her eyes. She nodded and began disrobing until she sat fully naked on the couch.

The room was lit just enough for Edward to see every bruise and ever scar he had ever inflicted on her.

"Bella," he called out, reaching out to touch her leg, He bent down and kissed a tiny pink scar on her right knee. "When we were six, I dared you to race me down the Ranking Hill and you fell and skinned your knee so badly you almost couldn't walk." He bent down and kissed the scar again.

"I'm so sorry."

"Edward," Bella gasped.

"Shh, Bella. Be silent."

He grabbed her left leg this time, moving his lips down her calve until he reached her ankle.

"When were thirteen, you fell off the trampoline and twisted your ankle, after I dared you to flip like I did…I'm so sorry."

Bella watched as Edward lavished each scar and bruise. Tears were welling in her eyes, as he reached her shoulders.

"Five days ago, I nearly tore all the skin of your back…I'm so sorry," he apologized kissing her shoulders.

His kisses and apologies found each and every scar, and by the time Edward reached her wrists, tears had started to fall down her cheeks.

He gently grabbed her wrist and placed a soft and long kiss onto the cliff diving scar.

"When were eighteen, I dared you to jump off a cliff, and I almost lost you that day," Edward began, his own voice wavering. "I'm so, so, sorry. I will always be sorry, for the rest of my life I will be sorry. I almost lost you Bella; I don't know what I would've done. It would've killed me." He placed another kiss on the scar, lingering there for a moment before letting go.

"I am so sorry."

"Oh Edward," Bella gasped as she lunged out at him. He caught her easily. He could feel the tears against his neck as she placed a kiss there.

"You're forgiven," she whispered. It was what he had wanted to hear, not 'Edward, you didn't have to apologize' or 'Edward, that was silly'. He heard the words he had longed to hear.

"That was beautiful," she remarked as she made to grab her sweater, but he snatched it away from her.

"I'm not done!"

Bella dropped back against the couch, about to say something but Edward stopped her by placing a finger to her lips.

"I drew the letter S, and it stands for several things. For instance, there was the 'I'm sorry's' and now there is the silence, the senses, the seduction."

He pulled the blindfold up and held it up in front of Bella.

"Slip that on," he ordered softly as he pulled the feather out once she was securely blindfolded.

"Listen to me and only me, Bella," he spoke into her ear, holding the tip of the feather a fraction of an inch away from her lips.

She nodded her head, and he brushed the feather against her lips and Bella giggled.

"Shh, Bella," he instructed, grabbing for a white chocolate dipped strawberry. He let the strawberry hang above a candle to let some of the chocolate melt before brushing it against her lips. Instinctively, she licked the sweet before Edward rubbed the rough texture of the strawberry against her lips.

"Open your mouth, Bella," he ordered and she complied. Slowly, he slid the juicy fruit into her mouth and she bit down on it, some of it spilling down her chin. Edward leaned forward and licked it off; she shuddered. He couldn't help but smirk. She was already starting to get into it. Her legs were pressed together tightly, and every few seconds, he would see them shift tighter. He almost groaned, thinking about how wet she would be for him.

He let her finish the strawberry before repeating the process of the feather and strawberry with the milk and dark chocolate ones.

Now, Bella was furiously rubbing her legs together.

"Bella," he called, "lay down the couch."

Slowly she did as she was told, with help from Edward. Checking that the blindfold was still in place, Edward dragged the feather down from the hollow of Bella's neck to her bellybutton, circling it before dragging the feather up the way it came down.

He stopped the movements of the feather and placed a kiss on the hollow of her neck, before dragging his kisses down the path the feather had traveled. Bella squirmed, arching her back into his mouth.

He pulled away and dragged the feather down the sides of her breasts, circling them before passing the tip teasingly over each nipple.

Again, he repeated the motions with his mouth, Bella moaning and writhing under him.

Edward, once again, stepped back, and grabbed the feather, brushing just above her hip, and dragging it down her sex. Bella shuddered and gasped, Edward's name spilling from her lips involuntarily.

"Edward," she called out again as he repeated the motion with his lips, sliding his tongue down her sex, flicking her clit. Bella nearly jumped off the couch.

"I need you, Edward," she proclaimed, yanking the blindfold off.

"Bella," was all he said as he picked her up and moved them to her room. He placed her on the bed gently before staring at her. He was trying to take things slower, even though he desperately wanted to be buried inside of her.

He littered kisses down her neck, the temptation to kiss her overwhelming him to point where he nearly had to push himself off of her.

He stared into Bella's eyes, murmuring something under his breath, before slipping into her. Slowly, he moved in and out of her, reveling in how warm and soft she felt around him. Bella wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing up into him with each of his down strokes.

It wasn't long before Edward felt that familiar tingling creeping up his legs and he sped up his motions, his hand slipping down to rub her clit. He wanted her to come with him. His thumb circled her clit a few times and he watched as her eyes widened, her mouth falling open in a short gasp of air. Just as Edward felt his orgasm wash through him, Bella's body arched up into his as she came with a wordless cry.

As he slipped out of her, he lay beside her and just watched as she smiled briefly at him before falling asleep.

He watched her chest rising and falling. He was captivated by her, and a sudden thought came to mind at that moment.

Maybe Alice was right.