A/N: I noticed that I haven't been putting disclaimers on my chapters or author notes--maybe you've noticed too? Well, if I'm going to be totally honest with myself, I think being stuck putting up disclaimers is just ridiculous. C'mon! It's FANFICTION-DOT-NET! Doesn't it go without saying that I don't own Twilight? Anyway. . . .

Haha, I get a little carried away with Renesmee's song, but I don't know. . . . great song. I thought it fit well, too, to get things rolling in this chapter. The way it emotionally moves me seemed to work well for this. And I really do like that song, haha. But, as I don't think you guys would really care that much anyway (I mean, let's get on to the romance!), I don't think I'll reveal what song it is. . . . it's just going to have to be a mystery, I guess. Oh yes, and by the by, this is to you guys, HJ and MP!

Renesmee was back at the piano, a good ten minutes after my little staring match with Edward, and after she'd bragged to her father about how she'd mastered Fur Elise already. And now here she was, moving onto a number that I'd never heard before.

The song had a calming, subdued kind of casualness, but somehow the notes, sounding so simple and easy played by Renesmee, affected me some. It sounded familiar almost, though I was sure I'd never heard it before, as i didn't listen to much music as I roamed the wilderness. Just something about its simplistic melody felt so real to me, had me reflecting to myself in such a contemplative manner. So casual . . . and yet, it almost brought a tear to my eyes, had I any.

My past seemed very little right now, and I concentrated solely on the time at hand, the music the perfect soundtrack to my thoughts.

So Edward knew now. . . . I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Honestly, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Kind of relieving, almost, to have a secret off of my chest. I was sure it would only take a few minutes of real, pure, undistracted thought for my embarrassment and disappointment in myself to set in. Honestly, this kind of scandelous love was not the kind of thing I wanted as I lived with this peaceful family.

Edward wouldn't meet my eyes, though my eyes never left him. He was looking resolutely at his wife, as she spoke light-heartedly to him, possibly trying to give me a hint. I didn't need the hint, though. I felt perfectly awful about falling for a married man.

Suddenly, Bella was beside me, her motherly grin in Renesmee's direction.

"Okay, Renesmee, we can go now." Renesmee stopped playing mid-chord, leaving the tranquil song hanging on that note, and jumped up from the piano bench. I felt some calm leave me.

"Okay," she said, excitement painting her tone. Then she glanced at me and back at her mother again. "Can Blaire come, too?"

I was startled slightly at hearing my name, and, oddly enough, I saw Edward smirk slightly out of the corner of my eye. Bella had a somewhat pained look about her.

"Er, well. . . ." she started, seeming a little uncomfortable. "I'm not sure that that would be a very good idea. . . . And I doubt Blaire would want to go with us."

"No, that's fine," I interrupted, but Bella still looked pained. She threw a glance at Carlisle, who looked reassuring. Edward, too, aproached us.

"Let's not force Blaire to come with us," Edward crooned to Renesmee softly. Then he said to Bella, "I think I'll join you, though. I haven't spoken to Jacob in a while." Renesmee looked a little disappointed.

I thought, watching Renesmee. I'd been living in this house for a few days. It would be a relief to get out for a bit.

"I'd like to come with you," I said, somewhat shyly. Renesmee smiled at me.

Bella, however, looked imploringly at Edward, who, in a sigh that sounded (to me, at least) resigned, said, "Of course. Well, maybe it would be a good idea to have Jacob come here."

Bella nodded in agreement, and took out a small, silver cellphone from her pocket, and dialed. Even from where I was standing I couldn't hear the phone's ringing or tone, and I assumed that the volume was turned way down for the acute ears of these vampires.

Edward approached me, and started talking to me for the first time in a while, awkwardness making itself known in his voice. He still wouldn't meet my eyes. "I think I should probably brief you on our visitor. Jacob isn't, strictly speaking, a vampire. Actually, he's not a vampire in any manner of speaking."

I was mildly surprised. A human? Here? It seemed like a pretty bad idea to invite a human to a vampires' nest--especially one containing a vampire like myself, whose hunger has yet to abate.

As if reading my mind (come to think of it, he probably was reading my mind), Edward assured me, "He isn't a human either. He's . . . well, he's a shape-shifter."

"And he shifts into what shape?" I asked in a measured tone. Edward seemed a little reluctant to answer, and it piqued my curiosity.

"A . . . wolf," he admitted, eyes down.

I couldn't help but curl my lips back over my teeth. A werewolf?! That was worse than bringing a human! The sworn enemy of a vampire. . . . Why on earth would they invite a vampire-killer into their home?

Edward, answering the outrage in my head, said "He's a good friend of Renesmee's. A very good friend of hers. He's like family, and he's always welcome here." He said it like a warning. Perhaps warning me to be on my guard of the filthy dog that would be making frequent visits. I simply nodded in defeat.

And then there was silence. Very awkward silence. Well, there was no point pretending that I didn't have feelings for him, and if I was going to be living here, with this family, we'd need to talk it out eventually. I opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off in a hushed whisper that I would never of heard had I been human.

"Whatever you do, don't tell Bella about your . . . feelings," he said in a peculiarly pleading whisper.

"What?" I whispered back, bewildered. "Why not?" I looked over his shoulder at the named vampire, who, having finished her call to the mysterious Jacob, was chatting merrily with Alice.

"Because," he continued hurriedly, glancing at her as well, "beautiful, couragous, warm as she is, Bella has an inferiority complex of sorts. Knowing that she has competition," -- he sneered the word, sounding harsh in his velvet tone, his voice needlessly implying that I was no competition compared to her --, "would make her very upset. And as she's been in a rather blissful mood as of late, I'd prefer that she remained that way."

He spoke in such a cold manner that I felt suddenly very small. "Yes. . . . Of course I won't tell her."

And again, there was silence. Maybe he knew that my feelings had been somewhat wounded by his cold manner, or he simply wanted to change the subject, but he began speaking again, this time in a much gentler tone.

"Renesmee told you, I'm sure, that I can . . . hear what goes on in people's minds, I'm sure," he said gently. I nodded, looking down. "Well, I . . . heard what happened. You know, before, all of those years ago."

I nodded again, but this time, I could feel my insides freeze.

He continued, this time even more kindly, as if speaking to a mourning widow, "I'm sorry, about what happened. And. . . ."

It was so odd, to hear someone so perfectly put together struggle with the right words.

"And, I'm sorry I was listening. I can't really help it. And I shouldn't be so cold to you. I can't return your feelings,"--even now, the rejection stung--"but I still would like to be on friendly terms with you. But I just want to be clear with you: I'll never be able to fill the void he left behind. Trust me."

There was nothing I could say to that. I simply nodded, mouth frozen, still not looking at him as he turned and joined his wife. In the background, Renesmee's humble song again began to play.