Hey y'all! Are you ready for Chapter Four? Thank you once more to my reviewers. Love all of you!

Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. Jasper owns me.

XOXO-Ka

Right Vs. Good

by: JudeOrion

Chapter Four: Mistakes

"Mama, where we goin'?"

"To some friends of mine's house. The Cullens."

"Why?"

"They invited us to dinner. Get your socks on, baby, we're running late. And your rain boots."

"'Kay."

September. And it had been snowing. It had all melted before it could stick to any surface, but that didn't mean anything. Remind me why I had agreed to let Mike drag me to this freezing tundra? I sighed and shook my head. My earrings caught my eyes as they glinted in the reflection. They were long silver feathers that almost brushed my shoulders. Probably my favorites; they were the last thing Alice gave me, and even though they were too much for me normally, the memory meant the world to me. I figured she would appreciate me wearing them tonight. I decided to take care with my appearance, so after running errands and taking Nicky to the park by the house I changed changed into a relaxed pair of dark jeans and a purple wool sweater.

I tried trying to keep busy around the house Friday, not thinking about dinner with the Cullens. I cleaned the kitchen and living room, and almost dropped my vacuum cleaner from the balcony again because the stupid damn thing wasn't working. I decided to break down and get a new one come my next paycheck. Mike dropped off Nicky, we exchanged maybe six words between us, and my two days with my son finally began. I'd been looking forward to this so much this weekend—I really needed it.

I sighed heavily then slipped on the same shoes from yesterday and my favorite black coat, jammed my grey hat, gloves, and scarf on, and went to the living room to see Nicky looking at the picture on the shelf of Grace. I cleared my throat and he whipped around, pretending not to have been looking at it.

Losing Grace was hard for all of us—Mike and myself, not to mention our parents. But none of us took it as hard as Nicky, myself included, and that's saying something. He refused to talk about her, refused to be talked to about her, pretended like she never existed. But I knew that he carried a picture of her in his pocket at all times. At night I heard him talking in his sleep—he was so much like me. His nightmares were much worse than mine, and he was only five at the time. In the past year he had drawn in more on himself and it terrified me. Counselors shuffled him between each other in hopes of finding someone to help him, but they couldn't get him to talk, at all. He had formed a sort of selective mutism in the past year. Nicky openly talked about mundane things with Mike and I, and exchanged simple words with Charlie, but other than that, he didn't talk to anyone. His teacher was already stressed with him, and God knows Mike wasn't any help. Work came before anything, I had learned that the hard way. I knew Amber, his future step-mother, was trying to convince Mike to let Nicky live with me, but spiting me took a close second in importance to work.

I pretended I hadn't seen Nicky as I made my way to the kitchen, and he sat quickly back onto the couch to put his boots on.

"Ready, buddy?"

"Yeah." He looked so scared at the prospect of meeting new people, but his (latest) counselor said that being around new people that Mike or I were comfortable with could help, so I put my faith in her and decided to take Nicky.

"Don't worry, baby." I smoothed his hair then helped him put his coat on. "If you get too upset and need to go, just squeeze my hand like this, ok?" I squeezed his hand three times.

He squeezed my hand back in reply and I smiled at him. "Let's go."

Nicky played with the radio, tuning it to a classic rock station and stared out his window quietly the whole ride.

The turnoff to their new place was much less overgrown than their house in Forks; I found it easily and drove up the muddy hill that turned into a gravel driveway. This house was smaller than the last, though not small by any means, painted a yellowish cream with sky blue accents, and set into the hill I had just driven up. The wraparound porch came to a deck at the back of the house over the day basement, which let out into a large field on the bank of a quaint pond. If the back of the house was bright and open, the front was the exact opposite; pine trees towered over the house, catching most of the still gently falling snow. It was almost dusk, and the light reminded me of a fairy tale. It was gorgeous.

"Wow," Nicky breathed out. I smiled to myself.

"Still good?" I asked him. He nodded.

"All right, let's go." We simultaneously exited the truck and crunched up the gravel walkway.

"Bella!" Alice's shrill voice echoed around us as the sprite slammed the door open and flew over to crush me in a hug.

"Air is essential, Alice."

"Sorry! Sorry!" she let me go, still beaming, and turned to crouch in front of Nicky. "And who are you?" she asked.

"That's Nicky, my son." I hadn't spoken to her about Nicky, but I was sure Esme would have filled them in from our talks almost every morning this week. She really was spoiling me with her cooking.

I don't know how Alice managed it, but she refrained from scooping him up in a hug and stuck out her hand. "Hey Nicky. Put 'er there." Nicky took her hand. "I hear you're the silent type. That's ok, 'cause I talk enough for the both of us." That lit a small smile on his face. She straightened up, still holding his hand, and took my hand in her other one.

"Come on, everyone's waiting." Alice led us up the porch steps and through a heavy dark oak door into a brightly lit entryway. I took off my shoes and told Nicky to do the same. Past those doors was a large foyer painted in greens and white with old wood floors the color of the door. Directly in front of us was a closed door, to the right a curving stairway, and behind the stairway a hall.

In the middle of the room was a hauntingly familiar piece of furniture. Not realizing what I was doing, I ran my fingers over the dark polished wood as I walked around it; felt the velvety bench cushions give to my pressing hand before I sat on it. I poised my fingers over the ivory keys as I had seen Edward do ten years ago. For a moment I forgot where I was. I closed my eyes and began to tap out the tune. Not as beautifully as he had done, indeed not well at all, but I had taught myself to punch out the basic notes from memory. Maybe for thirty seconds I had let myself stumble through the melody with closed eyes when I felt a cold arm brush mine and begin to expertly play the lullaby along with me. At first I went along with it, then suddenly, when his thigh rested on my knee, I jerked awake. He was staring at me, his eyes ocher and hungry. But not with a hunger I was afraid of. He leaned toward me, still playing with a heavy slowness.

"Bella…"

It was as if his speaking had broken the trance. I jumped off of the bench, my fingers jarring the keys in an ugly way. I looked around the room: we were the only people in it.

"Where is everyone?" I asked. I didn't dare look at him.

"Kitchen." His voice was rough. I scurried left down the hallway to what I hoped would be the kitchen. It was directly at the end of the hall. Esme was pulling something out of the oven, and Alice and Jasper were holding hands, standing in the corner next to the sink.

"Hey."

"Hey." There was a glass of water on the table, which I assumed was for me, and I gulped it down greedily. When I looked up, everyone was staring at me.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing at all. Jazzy, I think I heard the dryer go off, could you help me please?"

I rolled my eyes as they waltzed out of the kitchen. "Nice attempt at subtlety. Apparently there are some things you guys aren't good at."

"We had to try," Alice laughed without turning to look at me.

"Where's Nicky?" I asked Esme.

"He heard Emmett playing a video game in the living room and went to investigate. Right in there," she pointed with her chin at a large archway.

"Ok, pal, you gotta go like this. Great! Now let go of the button when you swing. Awesome, strike!"

I laughed hearing Emmett.

"Is there anything I can do to help, Esme?"

"No, dear. I'm making cider pork. Smells disgusting, but Edward assured me that you liked it," she teased.

"I do. Thank you, Esme. You don't really have do to this, you know."

"I know, but it's the very least we can do."

"What are you all going to do during dinner?"

"Pretend to eat. I doubt Nicky will notice much, he's very hungry."

"How do you know? Did he actually talk to you?" I asked, shocked.

"Jasper told me," she answered simply. Ah. That would do it.

"This is a beautiful home." I made my way over to the large glass door; it led to a glassed-in porch holding some twenty-odd different plants and a few wicker benches. Another glass door across from me opened up to the deck.

"Thank you. Through there is the living room—" she pointed to the door where Emmett's voice was coming from. "Upstairs are the bedrooms, bathrooms and a library, downstairs is a game room and Edward's bedroom—the stairs there are through a door in the entryway. The laundry is down there too. Down the hall behind the stairs is the guest bathroom. Feel free to roam around."

Fat chance. I didn't say it, though.

"Are you sure you don't want any help?" I asked again.

"Not at all, Bella. Make yourself comfortable."

I went through the archway into a large room with plush white couches and chairs, and a thick white carpet. The windows were draped in heavy burgundy velvet, and the walls were a sort of dark teal. Sitting in a pair of black bean-bag chairs were Emmett and Nicky.

"Hey Bells! I'm just teaching my new pal here to bowl!" he said without looking from the giant plasma TV mounted on the wall. Nicky stood up and came to cling on my leg, smiling up at me. He tugged on my jeans and I crouched down.

"You ok baby?"

"I like Emmett," he whispered in my ear.

"That's great. You having fun?"

He nodded, grinning from ear to ear.

"Good."

"Dude, get over here, it's your turn!" Nicky ran over and plopped himself knees-first on the bean-bag chair.

To the right of the TV there was another door. I opened it, hoping to find the entryway and stairs behind it—I really wanted to talk to Alice.

Instead, Carlisle was sitting at a large antique mahogany desk, marking papers. He looked up and smiled at me as I walked in.

"Hello, Bella."

"Carlisle?" I launched myself forward and held his stony body hard to mine.

"It's good to see you again, too," he chuckled and wrapped his arms around me.

"I missed you."

"Oh, my Bella. I've missed you, too. You have changed so much. Look at you." He held me out at arm's length. "You've grown up into quite a beautiful woman."

"Thank you. I'd compliment you on how well you've aged, but…I'm pretty sure the words would be empty," I laughed. He laughed also.

I looked around Carlisle's office. His desk was facing wide windows with a view of the driveway. Behind him was a wall of built-in bookshelves holding the familiar tomes, and across from me was the door leading to the entryway that I had hoped was there. The pictures Edward had once explained to me hung on the forest-green walls. The floors were the same dark wood as the entryway and hall.

"How have you been? I saw your son out there, you have done a good job with him."

I looked out the door and smiled at Emmett trying to give Nicky a high-five. He looked apprehensive at first, but not even my withdrawn son could say no to the eager smile Emmett gave.

"Thank you. I've been…ok."

"I would like to talk to you if you wouldn't mind." I nodded. "Close the door, please." I knew it was more for my comfort than privacy—vampire hearing and all—but I gratefully did as he asked and sat down in a squishy leather armchair.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Bella, I hope you won't mind. I took the liberty of…well, following you through these past ten years. My family has a very good source and I have been having him…keep tabs if you will. I know, it sounds very creepy, but I only wished to make sure that you were doing well." He looked up at me, asking for forgiveness without words.

I surprised myself finding that I didn't really care. But… "So, you knew where I was when you moved here?"

"No. No, I asked Mr. Jenks to never tell me anything about your whereabouts. I've kept it from Edward, but I did not want to take the chance of slipping up, and tempting him to come find you. He told us he was determined to make it as though we had never met, but I wonder if he hasn't regretted it over the years…" Carlisle looked lost in thought. Curiosity burned at me, but I wanted him to finish what he wanted to say before I got into that conversation. "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I know what happened last July, and seeing your son and how he has been acting, I wanted to see if there might be anything I can do to help. Obviously I have an advantage, with Edward and Jasper, and together we may be able to get him to open up. If you would rather continue with the methods you have been using, I completely understand. I only want you to know that we are here to help you, should you want."

Tears threatened to spill. "Thank you, Carlisle." I was sorely tempted to take him up on his offer. But I couldn't help the little voice in the back of my mind—"they left. They could do it again at a moment's notice. Or even without a moment's notice. Then where would Nicky be?"

"I'll think about it," I said, opting for the neutral take.

"Thank you, Bella. Just let me know."

"I will." I looked down at my fiddling hands.

"I get the feeling that there is something that you would like to ask me, dear."

I smiled. After so long, he still knew me more than my own father. "There is. Carlisle, you mentioned that you wondered if Edward regretted trying to make me forget your family. I just wondered why you thought that."

I knew that look on his face, the split second of pausing, his eyes flashing to the door. If I wasn't accustomed to their body language, I wouldn't have even noticed it.

"I'm afraid I've already said too much, Bella. That is something you will have to take up with Edward. I'm sorry."

"Can you just butt out for once, Edward?" I muttered under my breath. Emmett's booming laughter flowed through the door and Carlisle's shoulders shook with silent giggles.

"Thank you, Carlisle. I'm going to go teach your son a lesson in manners now," I said.

"My pleasure." I got up from the chair and slid the other oak door open to reveal the entryway. Edward still sat at the piano, his fingers ghosting over the keys.

"What is your problem?" I hissed at him.

"That was what I need to talk to you about tonight, Bella."

"Then why not tell me now?"

"Because Esme is about to call everyone to dinner."

"It's ready!" she called through the house a split second later.

I walked over to Edward and stood next to the piano bench. I poked a finger to his chest. "We will finish this later." Wow, that sounded braver than it felt.

He just nodded.

Edward led me into the dining room, to the right of the kitchen. The walls were a light blue and the honey oak table and chairs were adorned in black cushions and cloths. A large vase of white lilies sat in the middle of the table.

"It's so pretty, Esme, I'm afraid to sit down," I laughed.

"Thank you, Bella." She set down a serving bowl full of salad in the middle of the table, then went back into the kitchen. Edward pulled out a chair for me and I decided to be gracious toward him for the first time in a week.

"Thanks," I mumbled. The hair around my ear tickled as he replied, "You're welcome," and went to sit down next to me.

Oh, boy.

Esme returned to the dining room with Carlisle behind her, carrying the serving dish of pork chops. His nose was wrinkled. Emmett followed, holding Nicky's hand, who sat down on the other side of me with a huge smile on his face. I was pleasantly shocked to see him holding hands with a virtual stranger—I would have to ask Emmett how he did it.

Alice and Jasper came to the table last, sitting down across from me, beaming. Carlisle asked the blessing, and Nicky and I tucked in.

"Mmm, Esme, this is fantastic," I said.

"I'm glad you like it."

"Is this cider? I remember liking it…before…but God, it's disgusting!" Edward muttered. I tried not to laugh, but couldn't help the smile that cracked through my lips.

"So, Bella. What's with the wardrobe?"

"I'm sorry?"

"What's with the wardrobe? You actually have a fashionable one."

"I guess my tastes just developed." I shook my head at Alice.

"I loved that red blouse you wore earlier this week."

"That's one of my favorites, too."

"And the earrings are…those are the ones I got for you, aren't they?"

"Yes. I thought you might like me wearing them. I don't put them on often, but when I do, I always think of you through the whole day." She beamed at me.

We were silent for a few moments, when I realized that there was someone missing. I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was kind of offended. Surely she wouldn't skip this whole thing just because I was there?

"So where's Rosalie?" I asked as nonchalant as I could.

"She actually did want to be here, Bella," Emmett said. "But she got some pretty upsetting news, so she had to leave to calm down. She should be back soon. She wanted to talk to you tonight."

What the heck was this, Intervention Day? Everyone suddenly wanted to talk to me? I shook my head, seriously doubting that she would want to be here, within fifty feet of where I was. The pleasant silence from earlier had been taken by an awkward one, and we all finished the dinner in silence.

I didn't see where the Cullens put their food, but every time I looked around the table, less was on their plates.

I sunk down—literally, that was the only kind of sitting one could do here—on one of the big white couches after dinner. I sighed in contentment. I hadn't felt this well in ten years, and it was nice. A part of me vaguely wondered if I should be here, let alone so comfortable, with the family that had very nearly destroyed me, but I let it go. I could at least enjoy it while it lasted, and deal with what pain came when they left me. It was worth it—better to have loved and lost, right?

At least that's what I tried to convince myself every time Jasper shot me calming waves as panic threatened to engulf me when I thought too hard. He sat on the chair to the right of me, reading an old WWI book, Alice sitting by his feet watching Emmett try to teach Nicky how to play Smash Bros. on the Wii. Carlisle and Esme had excused themselves after dinner and I had no idea where they were, but Edward leant against the doorframe, watching me. Irritation bubbled as I watched Nicky kick Emmett's pink Kirby butt on the game.

Why couldn't he just leave me alone? Just do what he said he would and disappear again? What was so hard about that? He'd brought my—no, his—family back to me, and I was so happy for that; however, why couldn't he just let me be? I tried to quell the memories of him bombarding my mind, but it was getting more and more difficult as he bored his eyes into my head. I swear, I think my hair was starting to smoke from the intensity of his gaze.

I heard the back door open and the living room chilled a couple of degrees from the person who had just entered the kitchen.

"Whew! It's cold out there!" A lustrous voice sounded from the same direction as the back door.

Like you would really notice. I'm sure that statement had been more to announce her glorious arrival than her really being cold.

"Hey Rosie!" Emmett called without taking his eyes off of the screen. I turned my head as Rosalie entered the room. She was wearing white jeans and a brown cable-knit sweater, with a cream wool beret perched jauntily on her head. I attempted to be nice and gave her a small smile as our eyes met from across the room. Yep, I was still intimidated by her.

Intimidation was replaced with confusion as she smiled back at me shyly, but with warmth.

I think I could hear the Twilight Zone theme playing.

"Hey, Bella. How are you?"

"Um...fine, Rosalie. How are you?" Was this a set up? What was going on? It wasn't April first, was it?

"I'm doing very well. Could I talk to you for a minute, please, Bella?"

Here we go. "Sure. Will you be ok, Nicky?" He took a page from Emmett's book and didn't look from the screen as he nodded. I was so glad that he was comfortable around the Cullens. Usually when he was with new people he clung to me so hard my hand hurt by the end of the night.

I stood and followed Rosalie out of the living room, upstairs to the library. I hadn't been up there yet, nor anywhere but the main floor. It was huge, three walls filled with shelf after shelf of books. The wall with the windows had two big recliner chairs and a table and lamp between them.

I followed Rosalie into the big room and stood across from her; she stared silently out the window for a long moment before she spoke.

"I wanted to apologize, Bella."

"I'm sorry, I think I misheard you. What?"

Stop being catty.

She chuckled softly. "I'm sorry for how I treated you before. Back in Forks." She turned to face me. "It was wrong of me. Can you forgive me?" Rosalie's eyes were pleading. I was in shock that she would be asking something of me, other than to get the hell out of her house.

"O-Of course, Rosalie. But why?"

"As I said, I treated you very unfairly. I was rude and crass and very uncaring of you. I suppose I was jealous of you, and I resented the way you had made your way into my family. I regret it very much."

Rosalie? The blonde goddess? Jealous of me? I asked her so.

"Don't you see? You have everything! You had your whole life ahead of you, and you were willing to give it up in an instant for my pig-headed brother. To become nothing more than a memory to your family, to give up your chances of growing into a woman, this beautiful woman in front of me. You see? If you had continued down the path you were headed, you never would have married Mike. Ok, I know that seems to have turned out a bit of a disaster—" I interrupted her with a sarcastic, "Hah," and she continued. "But you have Nicky out of it. He's such a wonderful little boy, you should be proud to have him. He looks so much like you. You would still look like a teenager, you wouldn't be able to be a teacher. Your life experiences would have been jaded by the inability to look forward to something—if you had stayed with Edward, I assure you he would have made sure you had whatever you wanted in a split second. How good does it feel to know you're earning your own keep? To not feel like you owe someone more than you can give? To not have to answer to anybody."

She had me there. Being married to Mike, the most highly recognized lawyer in our town, made me feel inadequate. I was doing what I had dreamed of—being a teacher. I put myself through college, while raising Grace and Nicky, taking care of him, and the house, not to mention planning his damned "work parties" every month; no matter what, it was never enough for him, because I never made enough money. However, for the short amount of time right after high school when he was without a job and I had a steady one, he resented me for it. So Rosalie was right, I loved not having to constantly feel guilty for not being enough, or feeling angry at myself for feeling guilty over nothing. The latter was the worst, because I couldn't help feeling like that, though I knew it was stupid.

"I understand, Rosalie. In the same respect, though, you would have never ended up with Emmett if you hadn't been changed," I said, braving our tentative truce's eggshells.

"True enough. If I knew then what I know now…well, I'm not sure what I would choose, I'm ashamed to say. Emmett knows that, and I know it hurts him, but we focus on what has happened, not what would have. I'm very happy. I just wish I could have had the things I wanted before all of this." She gestured to her hard, alabaster body, and I nodded in understanding. Ten years ago I had wished for nothing more than to be just like her. Knowing now what I didn't know then, I'm glad they left—not the fact of the abandonment, but what it had brought in my life. Two beautiful children and a wonderful sense of self-reliance.

"I understand."

"I'd like for us to try to become friends, Bella." She held out a hand to me.

I couldn't help but smile as I took her hand. "I'd like that too, Rosalie."

We talked for a few minutes more before we made our way back downstairs, hand in hand. As soon as we entered the living room through Carlisle's den, Nicky's eyes shifted from the TV screen over me briefly and landed on Rosalie. I think they grew to the size of dinner plates. She smiled at him and crouched in front of his chair. "Hey, Nicky. I'm Rosalie."

"Hi." It wasn't more than a bare whisper, but it meant the world to me. I couldn't help the wide smile that lit my face. The rest of the people in the room smiled, too.

"Aren't you just the cutest thing on earth?" Nicky smiled shyly and Emmett nudged him.

"You trying to pick up my girlfriend, dude?" he guffawed.

Well, if the blush was anything to go off of, there would never be any mistaking him for my son.

From the corner of my eye I saw Edward push off of the chair he had been sitting in. I wasn't ready for this conversation. I'd been determined to have it a couple hours ago, but my nerve had left me and I was just emotionally exhausted. My pulse quickened seeing him move toward me and I couldn't help panicking.

"Well, baby, we should be going. Why don't you get your shoes and coat on?" I looked around the room and smiled. "Thank you for dinner. I was very happy to see you all today."

Esme came up to me with her arms outstretched and pulled me into a tight embrace. "Please, don't be a stranger, Bella. We've all missed you so much."

In the entryway, I gave everyone—except that big dark cloud on the other side of the room—a hug. Jasper stayed by the stairs with a set look on his face. He tried to get away with just a wave and a half-hearted smile at me, but I wasn't having it at all. He had stayed in the shadows the whole night, and I could understand that, but I wouldn't leave until he knew I wasn't angry with him. Besides the fact he left with the others, I never was angry with him. I could forgive him easily, understood the need to put himself away from me.

I strode right up to Jasper and threw my arms around him. He sighed softly and leaned into my hug, wrapping his own arms around me and resting his chin on my head. I sent him every ounce of forgiveness and sisterly love I could muster and whispered, "Love you, Jasper. I know I never said it, but I always loved you like a brother."

He kissed the top of my head and let me go with a smile.

Edward came up from the shadows and said, "I'll walk you to your truck." I just rolled my eyes and grabbed Nicky's hand.

As I hopped up into the cab and buckled my seatbelt, Edward's hand came to rest over mine. I whipped around with my eyes narrowed at him. "What?"

"We still need to have a discussion. Do you mind if I come over tomorrow?"

"Fine." He reached up to tuck a piece of hair out of my mouth. I jerked away. "You don't get to suddenly decide you want to touch me. Good-bye." I grabbed the handle and swung the door shut almost faster than he could get out of the way.

"Mama, we gonna see them again?" Nicky asked as I tucked him into bed. I swept his still-wet hair out of his eyes and smiled.

"Probably. Did you have fun with Emmett?" he nodded. "I'm so proud of you for talking to Rosalie. Why did you?"

"I dunno. She's really pretty." I chuckled.

"Good-night, ladies man. Love you."

"Love you too, Mama."

I roamed around the living room later that night—or earlier the next morning, whichever you prefer—unable to get to sleep. My mind was reeling over my conversations that evening.

Carlisle's offer to help Nicky. Rosalie wanting to be friends. I have to say, the second conversation had been the most surprising. My favorite part of the evening was Nicky's breakthrough, hands down. I was so proud of him, but I had a feeling that stronger men had succumbed to the siren.

I was startled by a knock on the front door. Who the hell was knocking at 1:37? I grabbed the baseball bat in the hall closet and looked through the peep-hole. Edward was on the other side, running his fingers through his hair. I sighed in irritation. Kept hold of the bat, though, as I opened the door.

"Look at that, you do remember how to use a front door."

"Charming. May I come in?"

"I suppose if I refuse, you'll just come in anyway. You left the window open last night. I was freezing when I woke up."

Well, at least the turd had the decency to look sheepish. I closed the door behind him and set the bat against the hall table.

"Given the hour, I assume this isn't purely a social call?"

"I saw you pacing through the window and thought we could have our conversation now. It really can't wait. It is 'tomorrow' technically."

"No, I suppose it can't wait, can it?" I went into the kitchen and took a bottle of Absolut out of the freezer. I had a feeling I would need some liquid courage for this conversation. I took a swig and twisted the cap back on the bottle, put it back in the freezer. "Well, what do you want to talk about?"

Lay off the sarcasm. You're twenty-eight, not the seventeen-year-old brat he used to know.

"I…I want to talk about when I left."

Screw maturity.

"Oh. Ok, you want to talk about that? All right. Well, where to begin? Hmm…we could talk about how you left with no notice. How I didn't get to say good-bye to my family. We could talk about how poor Sam Uley found me half-dead of hypothermia and heartbreak on the floor of the forest you dumped me in. What else is there? Let's see…it took me eight months to finally become a non-zombie. How I came to be with Mike Newton, that's good. I was foolish to think that you might come back and be jealous of him and I being together, and that was why I got with him—for the possibility of you ever wanting me again. We could talk about how I was forced to marry him when I got pregnant. That was humiliating. Maybe discuss how I had to explain to my daughter at eight years old that I had gotten married because I had gotten pregnant with her. Watch her devastated face as she realized I hadn't meant to get pregnant with her. Or, we could even talk about how I found her that night dead. Would you like to talk about that, Edward? Would you like to talk about just how far the shit has extended in my life since you left? I suppose since you changed your mind it wouldn't really matter, would it? As long as you got the chance to assuage your guilt of leaving so suddenly—assuming you have any that is.

"Is any of that what you would like to talk about? Because I'm pretty sure I just summed up how well my life's been while you've been out doing your own thing. Been…what was the word you used? Oh yes, 'distracted' that was it. Have you been able to distract yourself? Or was I just the distraction you were looking for ten years ago, then got bored of? That's really the question I've been looking for the answer to, Edward. I'd love for you to answer it. Which one was I? The distraction from your monotonous life, or the thing you needed distracting from once you felt an obligation to?"

Was I even making any sense?

When I ended my rant, never taking my eyes off his face, I was breathing hard. Then it registered all that I had said, and I couldn't help the embarrassing tears running down my face. Oh God, I was an idiot. How many times had I promised he wouldn't get under my skin ever again? That if I saw him I would pretend like he hadn't ripped my heart out and left a gaping hole? That if he ever came close to me again, I would stay strong and not let him in? I really was as weak as he had left me so long ago, I hadn't changed from the stupid, sniveling girl I was in high school. More than anything I wanted him to never know how much he had affected me.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Edward stood rooted in place in my living room long after I'd sunk onto the coffee table, head in hands.

"Edward, just go." My voice was small, but I knew he would have heard it.

To my horror he didn't leave. He came to me and kneeled between my legs, took my hands away from my face. His face appeared to be concerned for me, but I tried my hardest not to be fooled by wishful thinking.

"Why are you here? You don't have to apologize, I get it. I get why you left, ok? I was able to admit you never felt the same way a long time ago. You don't need to stay and explain your guilt away to me."

His face got steely, and he fisted his hands up in the hair at the back of my scalp, forced me to look into his eyes.

"You're right, Isabella. I never did feel the same way for you that you did for me."