AN: Thanks to ShearEnvy for the beautiful beta job, and thanks to all of you for reading this story. I adore each and every one of you. People ask me occasionally how many chapters I anticipate this being... as it stands, there are just a few more, so a little over 20. I hope that helps.

Chapter 17: Outline

"Look not at the days gone by with a forlorn heart. They were simply the dots we can now connect with our present, to help us draw the outline of a beautiful tomorrow." - Dodinsky

An incessant ringing pulled me from my sleep, and I sat upright abruptly, dazed. Early morning sunlight streamed through the window, softly illuminating the wooden floor. It took a moment for me to get coherent enough to realize the ringing was coming from my cell phone, and I snatched it off of the night stand. Glancing at the screen, I tensed when I saw it was Angela's office number.

"Hello?" I asked, answering it quickly before my voicemail picked up.

"Where's my review?" Her voice was stern. No "Good morning." No "How are you doing?"

I glanced across the room at where the notebook paper with the rough scribble of my review lay on the desk. "Uh, I have it right here."

"Right. So why don't I have it here?"

Fuck. "You know, service here is really shoddy, and it's hard finding internet access, so I was—"

"Nine o'clock," Angela said, interrupting. "At exactly nine o'clock I'll be checking my email, and I expect to see it waiting. If it isn't there, when you get back to Seattle, we're going to have a meeting about whether or not to continue your employment."

The line went dead immediately, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I glanced at the alarm clock, panicked to see it was already a quarter after eight. I only had 45-minutes to save my ass.
I jumped up and started throwing things around, pulling on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before grabbing my rough draft from the desk. I ran down the steps two at a time, nearly tripping and falling at the bottom, and reached for the door. Something caught my eye then, and I froze, my hand grasping the knob. On my finger, exactly where I'd put it last night, was the engagement ring.

"Fuck," I spat, holding my notes under my arm as I pulled on the ring. My brow furrowed when it wouldn't budge, not even moving a fraction of an inch. It felt half the size it had been when I put it on, my finger swollen and locking it in place. I tugged harder, my panic escalating, but nothing happened.

The son-of-a-bitch was stuck.

I shot a quick glance at the living room clock before throwing my notes down on the couch and running for the kitchen. I ran my hand under cold water and tried to use soap but to no avail. Scouring through the cabinets, I tried cooking oil, and even used a bit of butter trying to get it off. When that didn't work, I ran upstairs, looking around for something to use. I tried some Vaseline, which made my hands slippery, but the ring only seemed to get tighter on my finger the harder I tugged. Shampoo, conditioner and lotion were just as fruitless, leaving my hands and the ring a gooey mess.

I washed it all off the best I could before rushing to the bedroom again and grabbing my phone. I dialed Jake's cell phone, thanking every deity that ever existed when he picked up the line. "Morning, sunshine," he said, sounding quite perky. "You get your man yet?"

"I'm fucked, Jake," I said, shaking my head. "Like, royallyfucked."

"You fucked?" he asked, sounding shocked as he completely misinterpreted what I was saying. "Damn, Jezebella, you work fast. You went from zero to cock in six-point-nine seconds."

"No, dickwad, we didn't fuck," I spat. "I'mfucked! I went with Edward yesterday to pick up this damn ring, and he asked me to hold onto it for him. Like an idiot, I put it on, and now the fucking thing is stuck. On my finger, Jake. The fucking ring is on my finger!"

I was frantic, about to pull my hair out, and he just laughed. "Wow, boo, you certainly are in a pickle. Have you tried butter?"

"Yes. I tried everything… butter, oil, lotions, soaps. Nothing works!"

"Hmmm, how about some lube?"

"Lube?" I asked incredulously.

"Yeah, you know, like KY."

"I know what you mean, Jake, but it's not like I carry lube around in my fucking pocket."

"You really should," he said. "You never know when it might come in handy. It's like American Express, honey. Don't leave home without it."

"Jesus Christ, Jake! I don't want to talk about lube right now. I need to get this fucking ring off!"

"Whoa, calm down, potty mouth. I'm trying to help here. Let me think."

"You better think fast," I said, glancing at the clock and groaning at the time. "I have thirty minutes to get my damn review typed up and sent to Angela, or I might lose my job. The only way I can do that is if I go next door, and I can't go over there wearing this damn ring!"

"Oh." He paused, before laughing again. "Only you get yourself in these situations. They need to give you a reality show, babe. You're way more entertaining than the Karbitchians."

"Har-har-har," I said. "Laugh it up while I lose my sanity andmy job here."

"Okay, alright, calm down before you have an aneurysm," he said. "Can you go to the library and type up your review? I'm sure they have the internet. Just, you know, don't burn the place down."

I rolled my eyes. "Screw you. They don't open until eleven."

"Eleven? What kinda hole-in-the-wall hick town is that? People can't read before noon?"

"Jake…"

"Gloves," he said. "Put on a pair of gloves."

"Gloves? That'syour genius idea, Mr. Truth Be Told? Wear gloves?"

"It's all I got," he said dismissively.

I groaned and hung up the phone, before bolting out into the hallway. I searched through the closet and found a pair of Charlie's old black leather motorcycle gloves, quickly putting them on. They were huge, but it was the best I could come up with in such short notice.

Feeling like an idiot, I fled down the steps and ran next door, bursting in the front door without a second thought. I collided with someone not even a foot inside, nearly knocking us both to the floor.

"Whoa, watch out!"

The sound of Tanya's voice made my hair bristle, like a cat sensing danger. Rawr, hiss, grrr. "Sorry," I said, backing away from her. "I need to borrow the internet, and I'm on a time constraint."

I tried to turn around and head for the stairs, but her hand gripped my arm and stopped me. Long manicured nails dug into my flesh, and I grimaced, looking between her and her hand with shock. She was touching me.

The bitch was touchingme.

"I don't know what sort of game you're playing, Isabella, but you need to back off," she hissed, her voice low and scathing. "He's mine. He's marrying me, and nothing is going to stop this wedding-especially not some frumpy, small-town, Plain Jane like you. He may have pitied you enough in high school to sleep with you, but not anymore. Not when he can be with someone like me."

Gone was sweet, bubbly, silver-lining Tanya. This Tanya was Mean Girlsmeets Bellatrix Lestrange, trapped in Jessica Rabbit's skin.

Before I could get my wits together and reply – or bitch-slap her – Edward appeared from the stairs. His footsteps faltered when he saw us and Tanya quickly loosened her grip, her expression shifting at warp speed. She smiled brightly, grabbing my right hand. "These are such great gloves," she said, the bubbliness back in her voice. "I've always wanted a pair!"

I pulled my hand away from her as Edward strolled toward us. "Why are you wearing gloves?"
I sighed. Just fucking great. This was turning out to be a bigger disaster than the Forks Library Fire Fiasco of 2001. Also my fault, of course. "I just like them," I lied, before quickly changing the subject. "I need to use your computer. It's an emergency."

I glanced around for a clock, my eyes falling on one on the wall. Twenty-minutes to go.

"Uh, sure," Edward said, eyeing me skeptically. "You can use the one in my bedroom."

"Thanks," I muttered as Tanya slipped past me, wrapping her arms around Edward's waist. I turned away, the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach only growing. I bolted up the stairs to his room, pacing the floor as I waited for the decrepit machine to warm up. Once it was booted, I opened Wordpad, since he didn't have any other word processor, and it struck me then that I'd forgotten my review notes back at the house. I didn't have time to go back for it, since I was down to fifteen minutes, so I took a deep breath and just started writing.

My fingers flew across the keyboard faster than I thought humanly possible as I pulled a review out of thin air. Edward eventually came in, and I could hear his voice, but nothing he said was sinking in. I glanced at his alarm clock when I ran out of things to type, gasping when I saw I only had three minutes.

I opened my email at the same time my phone started ringing, feeling like I was going to be sick. I answered it, knowing I couldn't ignore Angela's call, and started attaching my document to a message.

"I'm heading to my office, Bella," she said. "Am I going to find a review waiting?"

"Absolutely," I said, silently pleading for his internet to work faster. "I wouldn't let you down, Angela."

"Good," she replied just as the document attached. I hit send, breathing a sigh of relief when the screen changed, and Angela hummed to herself. "Well, look at that. Exactly nine o'clock."

I said nothing as I waited for her to speak again, too overwhelmed by the events of the last few minutes. "It's not your usual quality, but I'll let it pass this time since we're all working on a deadline. Get it together, Bella."

"Yes, ma'am."

I hung up my phone and dropped my head down on the desk with a groan. This was definitelynot my morning. Tears prickled my eyes, although I wasn't sure why I was about to cry. My emotions were all over the place - one manic laugh away from homicide or suicide.

After a moment, I felt a hand on the back of my neck. It would've alarmed me, had the touch not been so gentle and familiar. All those years later and I could still remember the feel of his fingertips on my skin. He massaged my neck gently, goose bumps springing up as I lost the fight against my tears. A few slipped through, streaming down my cheeks.

"You okay, Swan?" he asked quietly. I managed a nod, trying to discretely brush away my tears before sitting up and glancing at him. His face was weary, and I could tell he was genuinely concerned.

"I'm just stressed," I said. "I'll be fine."

He nodded and pulled his hand from my neck, smiling sadly. "Do you have plans for the rest of the day?"

Just wallowing in misery, like usual. "No."

"Come with me," he said. "I have some more errands to run."

"More errands?" I asked, glancing at my ridiculously gloved hand. "I don't know. What about Tanya?"

"She has her own errands."

I sighed. "I should really go home. I have things to do."

"What kind of things, Swan?"

Getting this goddamn ring off of my finger kinda things."Personal things."

"Oh." He eyed me suspiciously. "Is Jake in town or something?"

"Uh, no," I replied. "He's in Seattle working."

"Then come with me," he said. "I won't take no for an answer."

"Fine," I muttered. "I should go change first."

His eyes scanned me. "You look fine to me, Swan."

Rolling my eyes, I stood up. "I haven't even gotten to brush my damn hair, Edward."

"I'll walk with you, then."

"You don't have to," I replied. "I'll be fine by myself."

"Just… let me walk you over," he said, sighing with frustration. "It's not like I'm trying to give you a car. Accept something for once."

He was being impossible, tugging at my lingering guilt. "Fine."

We headed downstairs, and I could hear Tanya and Kate's voices in the dining room, but Edward didn't call out or acknowledge them in any way. He practically shoved me out the front door, keeping right at my side as we headed next door. The looks he kept giving me were putting me on edge. "You know I'm not, like, suicidal or anything, right? You keep looking at me like I'm about to snap."

"I'm just worried about you, Swan."

"Why?"

He shrugged. No answer. I wasn't sure if hearing his concerns verbalized or his total silence would be worse at that point.

Just as we got to the front door of Charlie's house, the front door was pulled open. Charlie stepped out, pausing briefly when he saw the two of us. "Morning, kids. I'm late, so I can't stay and talk."

He brushed right past us without awaiting a response, and I stared at him with shock. He was wearing a white button-up shirt and a pair of khaki's, his hair neatly combed down and face freshly shaved. The scent of his cologne lingered on the doorstep even after he was gone, a smell I hadn't encountered in quite some time. Charlie never wore cologne, nor did Charlie wear shirts with buttons… unless they were flannel, of course.

He got in his cruiser and started pulling away as Edward grabbed my wrist. He started pulling me away from the house, and I resisted at first, but gave in because of his determination.

"Where are we going?" I asked as he dragged me toward his Volvo. He let go when we reached the car, nodding his head toward the passenger's side and motioning for me to get in.

"We're going to find out what your father's been up to," he replied, climbing behind the wheel. I hesitated, glancing at my concealed, ring-clad hand, before conceding and getting in the car. My curiosity overrode all logic, once again.

"Prostitutes?"

I scoffed, refusing to humor his suggestion with a response. We were parked in a fairly vacant lot across from a shabby house in Port Angeles. It was two-stories high, the bricks crumbling and withered with age. It was dead center in the middle of a neighborhood I would usually lock my doors to drive through. I felt safe with Edward beside me, though.

"Drugs?"

I shook my head. "Why would he dress up to do drugs?"

"I don't know," he replied. "He's lost some weight, though."

"Yeah, but I think that's from not eating, not from doing meth, Edward. Besides, you know Charlie isn't like that."

He was quiet for a moment. "Maybe he's undercover," he suggested. "We could be screwing up his investigation as we speak."

"He drove the cruiser, parked it right in front of the building. That's not exactly undercover."

Twenty minutes before Charlie had disappeared inside of the nondescript house, giving us no clue as to what he was doing. I was too afraid to go any closer, afraid to get caught snooping around.

"I think I have some binoculars in the trunk," Edward said after a moment.

My brow furrowed as I turned to him. "Why do you have binoculars?"

"You never know when they might come in handy," he replied casually. "I think there's a blanket and a flashlight and a crowbar back there, too. First-aid kit. Even a saw. Better safe than sorry."

"Everything but lube," I muttered, thinking about what Jake had said. I hadn't found it funny at the time, but now that the shock of the ring being embedded into my damn hand wore off, I smiled at his words. It didn't surprise me at all that he carried lube with him.

"No, I don't make it a habit to carry lube with me," Edward said. "I think there's some hand sanitizer back there, though."

I looked at him peculiarly. "What does hand sanitizer have to do with lube?"

"They're both clear and kinda sticky."

"Yeah, but you can't use one in place of the other. Talk about painful."

He chuckled. "You talk like you know from experience."

I rolled my eyes and elbowed him, once again not humoring him with a response.

"Guy came into the ER with an infected piercing one time when I was working," Edward said after a moment. "One of those, uh, Prince Albert ones. He said he kept putting hand sanitizer on it and couldn't figure out why it was only drying out and getting worse. It was red and inflamed, with puss coming out of it."

"That's disgusting."

"It was," he replied. "Completely changed my mind about ever considering one."

I laughed. "You never would've done it, anyway. You're way too vanilla."

"I am not," he said defensively. "I'm no more vanilla than you, Swan. I always wondered if it made things feel better... if it was any better for the girl."

The shift in conversation to sex flustered me, and I felt my cheeks growing warm. "Yeah, I don't know. I'd always be afraid it would get stuck or something. It happened on an episode of Grey's Anatomy. Talk about embarrassing."

He stared at me for a moment. "You mean you've never…"

"Never what?" I asked when he trailed off.

"Didn't you say Jake had one?"

Oh shit.Me and my big mouth. "Yeah, but I mean… I don't know."

He nodded, turning away from me. It was quiet for a moment before he started laughing. "I could see you winding up in the ER with a cock stuck in you."

"Oh God, shut up Edward."

He laughed some more, but cut off abruptly when there was movement across the street. We both sat up straight as Charlie stepped out onto the front porch. His smile was so radiant that I could see his teeth flashing from where I sat, the sight of it catching me off guard. I stared in shock as a woman stepped out of the house behind him, wearing a short blue dress and a pair of high heels. Her long brown hair was curly and cascaded down her back. Her face was partially shielded in a floppy hat, but I could make out a set of bright red lips. The woman took Charlie's hand, and they slipped in the cruiser and drove away.

I turned to Edward. "Charlie has a girlfriend."

He nodded. "Or a prostitute. It could still be a prostitute."

As if my morning hadn't been surreal enough, I sat in the driveway at the tan colored house in town, my gloved hands clinging to the seat as Edward tried to pull me out of the car. I resisted, my heart thumping like a bass drum, but he was much stronger than me. He pried my hands off, practically picking me up as he yanked me out of the car.

"No way, Edward," I said, trying to push away from him. "I can't."

"Why are you being so damn difficult?" he asked, blocking me from getting back in the car. He shut the door and locked the Volvo, shoving his keys in his pocket as if it would deter me. I attacked him, fumbling with his pants as I tried to rummage through his pockets. The oversized gloves made it difficult, and his laughter shook us both as he fought me off. "Jesus, Swan, are you trying to molest me?"

"This isn't funny, Edward," I said, managing to get a hold of the keys. He snatched them from me before I could get around him and held them straight up in the air, but that didn't stop me, either. Jumping up, I tried to grab them, and resorted to climbing him like a tree. I nearly knocked us both over as I wrapped my legs around his waist, smacking at his hand. "I can't go inside there, Edward."

"Yes, you can," he replied, pushing me off of him. "You're making a big deal out of nothing."

"This isn't nothing."

I let go of him, defeated, when a voice cleared behind us. Both Edward and I turned around, seeing Emmett standing at the front door. "Get a room, you two."

I rolled my eyes as Edward's grip finally loosened, and he chuckled. "I never realized she liked PDA so much until she tried to mount me just now."

"Ha-Ha-Ha," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. I felt absolutely absurd, standing in the front yard of the McCarty's house, wearing yesterday's clothes, with my hair in a sloppy bun, pouting like a petulant child. But there was no way I could walk inside that house and face Mrs. McCarty after all those years. I hadn't seen her since that afternoon in the police station, and the prospect of seeing her again terrified me.

"Well, come in," Emmett said, turning back around to head inside.

Edward started toward the house, hesitating to look back at me. "Come on, Swan. It'll be alright. Trust me."

Still pouting, I followed him inside the house, my stomach in knots. We walked down a hallway to the living room, where Mrs. McCarty sat in a recliner. She looked a lot older than I remembered, with significantly less hair, but her radiant smile was startlingly familiar. "Well, I'll be! If it isn't Miss Bella!"

I smiled at the warmth in her voice. "Hello, Mrs. McCarty."

"Come here, dear," she said, waving me toward her. I stepped closer and she opened her arms, pulling me into a hug. "Look at how beautiful you are!"

"Thank you," I said, my cheeks flushing as I pulled away. "It's great to see you."

"It's great to see you, too," she said. "I heard you were in town and was hoping I'd get to see you."

"I couldn't come to Forks without stopping by."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Edward smirk. Smug bastard.

"Well, I'm glad you did," she replied. "I've been reading your column in the newspaper every week and have never gotten the chance to tell you how proud I am of what you've done with your life."

Her words washed through me, sending my emotions spiraling out of control once again. "You read my column?"

"Of course I do," she said. "I'm one of the few who can say 'I knew Miss Bella Swan before she became a big food critic. She ate my cooking and didn't have a single complaint.'"

I smiled. "I miss your oatmeal raisin cookies. Best ever."

"I'll have to make you some while you're in town," she replied.

"But not now," Emmett interjected. "You need your rest, Ma. Dr. Cullen will be by soon to check on you."

"He's here right now," Mrs. McCarty said, turning her attention Edward. "Dr. Edward Cullen, as handsome as ever, even though it looks like he hasn't slept in awhile…"

"That's not the one I meant," Emmett grumbled.

"Oh, I know, boy, but quit fussing over me," she said, waving him off. "I think I deserve a few minutes to tease these two kids. Lord knows they put me through enough with what they did to my library."

I tensed. "I, uh… I mean…"

"Don't worry about it, Bella," Mrs. McCarty said. "Edward told me the truth a few years ago."

"Needlessly," Edward said. "She already had it figured out, anyway."

"I did," she admitted. "I knew it from day one. I think everyone did."

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling guilty. "I really didn't mean—"

"I know, Bella," she said. "People make mistakes. I think the biggest mistake was how you handled it, though."

"See?" Edward said. "Even Mrs. McCarty thinks you were stupid to confess like that."

Mrs. McCarty grabbed a rolled-up newspaper and reached across the room, smacking Edward with it before any of us knew what she was doing. "That's not what I meant. I was talking about what both of you did after it was all said and done. Breaking up over some silly, little misunderstanding."

"I wouldn't really call a fire a misunderstanding," I said quietly.

"Oh, is thatwhy you broke up?" Mrs. McCarty asked.

I nodded, but Edward spoke and contradicted me. "Of course it wasn't. We broke up because we were still kids trying to deal with too many grown up issues."

"That's no reason to give up," Mrs. McCarty said. "Things like that are supposed to make you stronger, not pull you apart. You're both just too stubborn for your own good. Now look at you, Edward, getting married to that red-headed…"

"Ma!" Emmett yelled.

"…girl, and Bella still standing by his side. There's something wrong with that picture."

Emmett shook his head. "And you wonder why people don't visit you very often anymore, Ma."

"It's because people can't handle the truth, but I know these two can," she said. "I won't be on this earth much longer. I don't have time to beat around the bush anymore. Life's too short not to do what makes you happy, and what makes me happy is…"

"Terrorizing people?" Emmett asked.

"…seeing people together that belong that way. I may be running out of time, but it's not too late for them."

I stared at her, stunned, as Edward ran his hand through his hair. "We just weren't ready," he said. "It was too much."

"And you're still not ready?" she asked. "Because if you aren't, you shouldn't be getting married, Edward."

"I am ready," he said.

"And what, Bella isn't?" she asked, turning her attention to me. I blanched, and she shook her head.

"She's still silent. Always the silent one. Speak now or forever hold your peace, honey."

Emmett sighed exasperatedly. "Seriously, Ma. You keep it up and Edward's gonna rescind your invitation to the wedding."

"He had better better not," she said, smiling playfully. "It's not often I get to go out of the house for something that doesn't involve me being poked and prodded."

"I'd never uninvite you," Edward said. "Everyone's entitled to their opinion. I just wish it were that simple, Mrs. McCarty."

"It is," she said. "You might not see it, but it is."

Before anyone could respond, there was a knock on the front door followed by the sound of it opening and then quietly shutting. Carlisle's voice carried through the house, and Edward and I stepped away as he walked in. Emmett motioned for us to follow him to the dining room, where a bunch of papers were scattered on the table. "So I've been finalizing these bachelor party plans and getting everything set up. We have reservations Thursday night at the club in Port Angeles at eight."

"Club?" I asked, as Edward picked up a piece of paper. "Would this club involve naked women?"

Edward chuckled. "You'll see."

"I'll see?" I asked incredulously. "I'm so not going to a strip club with you."

"Oh, come on," Emmett said. "It'll be a blast, Bella."

I shook my head. "No freaking way. I don't do platform shoes and boobie tassels."

"Boobie tassels?" Edward asked. "What kind of strip club do you think we're going to? This isn't Vegas, Swan."

I shrugged. How was I supposed to know? I didn't make a habit of frequenting strip clubs.

They went through more plans, and a few minutes later Edward and I were heading back out to the car. He pulled the keys from his pocket, smirking as he unlocked the passenger door. "Was it as horrible as you thought it would be?"

"No, it was nice," I admitted. "And she harped on you more than me. That was kinda awesome."

The house was silent when I made it back there an hour later. I strolled through the downstairs, my mind wandering to thoughts of Charlie and his girlfriend. Grabbing my phone, I dialed Jake's number and listened as it rang.

"You were right," I said when he picked up.

"I always am," he replied. "But what am I right about this time?"

"Charlie, my dad," I said. "You were right when you guessed he was seeing someone."

"Ha, I knew it!" he said. "How'd you find out?"

"Edward and I followed him. He went to some woman's house."

"Nice. Papa Swan got him a piece of ass."

"Gross."

He laughed. "So did you get the ring off?"

"No. The fucker's still stuck. I don't know why; it fit fine yesterday."

"Must be PMS," he said. "You know how you moody bitches can be, swelling up like stuffed sausages. You're probably retaining more water than a damn Sham-Wow."

My brow furrowed. Why hadn't I considered that?

"Bella, you need to knock this off right now!"

I glared at my father from across the kitchen. "I'm not doing anything!"

"Not doing anything?" He gaped at me. "For a week now you've been stomping around here, slamming doors and throwing things. I can't take it anymore!"

"I have not!" I spat, throwing the washcloth in the sink full of water. It splashed, suds flying on the counter and floor, but I made no move to clean it up. "I've been too busy cooking and washing dishes and vacuuming and doing laundry and cleaning up all of your junk to do any of that! It's like living with my mother all over again, except instead of bottles of vodka it's empty beer cans!"

Charlie's expression shifted, his usual calm demeanor swiftly turning to anger as he rose from his seat at the table. "Isabella Marie Swan! You will not talk to me that way! I'm your father. You live in my home. You will respect me."

Eyes narrowed, I stormed out of the kitchen, my feet stomping against the stairs as I made my way upstairs. I could feel the tears flooding my eyes, my stomach twisting. I ran for the bathroom, dropping to my knees in front of the toilet in just enough time to start throwing up.

I was losing it. I knew it. Ever since the day Edward told me to get out of his house, I'd been a raging hurricane. My emotions were out of control, my stomach in knots and head foggy. I could barely keep anything down, having absolutely no appetite, and all I wanted to do was crawl in bed and hide.

And I cried. A lot. More than I'd cried in years.

Edward hadn't spoken to me. I hadn't seen him. We were done, and part of me still didn't want to believe it. I alternated between denial and anger, heartbreak and guilt. I felt like I no longer had my feet on the ground.

When my stomach settled, I sat back on my knees and wiped my blurry eyes. I glanced around the bathroom, unable to believe I'd gotten so low as to be where I was, and my brow furrowed when my gaze fell upon the sink. Charlie's nose hair clippers were still on the corner of the sink for the fifth day in a row.

As soon as the realization of that clicked in my head, panic flooded me. Every month Charlie bitched about my tampons, and I bitched about his nose hair trimmers. Every month. Like clockwork. They'd been there for days now, unmoved, untouched, but there were no tampons to be found.

Jumping up, I ran into the bedroom and scrounged around on my desk for my journal, flipping back through it. My panic escalated as I scanned the pages. I hadn't had my period… since before the library.

I dropped the journal. The library, where we'd made love. The library, where we'd been so caught up in passion that we nearly burned the whole place down. The library, where Edward hadn't used a condom.

"Jezebella! Are you even listening to me?"

"Uh, yeah, of course," I lied, my mind having drifted. I had no idea what Jake was talking about anymore. "Can you repeat it, though?"

He laughed. "I would, but I need to get back to work. Be sure to check my column this week, by the way. It's a good one."

"Don't I always?" I asked.

"Yeah, but this week is special."

A pounding on the front door made me swing around, and I sighed. "Yeah, alright. I need to go. Someone's here."

"I'll talk to you later, Bella-boo," he said. "You be good. I'll see you this weekend."

I hung up as I walked over to the door, pulling it open. I froze when I saw Kate standing on the front porch. She was wearing a tiny pair of cut-off jean shorts and a black halter top with a glittery, pink Playboy Bunny on it.

"Do you need something?" I asked.

She smiled, but there was something off about it. "Tanya asked me to come get you for a dress fitting."

"Now?"

"Yes. It's the only time we can squeeze it in."

"I, uh…" I glanced around. "Tell her I'll be over in a bit."

"No, now," she stressed, grabbing my arm and pulling on me, giving me barely enough time to shut the door. She didn't let go until we reached the Cullen's porch, and she called out to Tanya as soon as we stepped inside. Tanya appeared from around the corner, shoving the frilly, pink dress at me before motioning toward the bathroom. "Put it on."

Her demanding tone caught me off guard, and I glanced in the living room, seeing Esme sitting on the couch. She smiled softly, compassionately, and her subtle nod told me to just go along with it.

I slipped into the bathroom, taking off my clothes and pulling on the dress, before begrudgingly walking back out. Tanya jumped up and down excitedly, clapping. "I can't get enough of it! I love it so much! But ugh, those gloves have got to go."

She started toward me and I shook my head, taking a step back as I put my hands behind me. "They're not in the way."

Tanya hesitated, but shrugged after a moment and grabbed her dress. She and Kate disappeared into the bathroom together after that, both clutching dresses, as I glanced at Esme. who eyed me peculiarly. "Interesting gloves, Bella."

"Uh, yeah. They're Charlie's. I like them."

"They're quite nice," she said, "but aren't your hands sweaty? It's summertime."

"No," I lied. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "They're comfortable."

She nodded, smiling again as Tanya and Kate emerged from the bathroom. Kate was tugging on the zipper of Tanya's dress, struggling to get it up. The doorbell rang as two seamstresses arrived, one pulling me aside and starting to tuck and pin without a word. Kate's dress seemed to be perfect, whereas Tanya complained about her zipper. The other seamstress let the seam out a bit for it to be more comfortable, and Kate cracked a joke about Tanya eating too much.

It took nearly an hour before they were finished, and I quickly bolted to the bathroom to take my monstrosity of a dress off. I returned, handing the dress to the seamstress, and started toward the door, but Esme stopped me. "Bella, can you help me with something in the kitchen?"

I nodded hesitantly as Kate and Tanya went to take off their dresses. Esme disappeared and I followed, nearly running straight into her in the kitchen. Before I could even make sense of what she was doing, she had a grip on my wrist and was pulling off my glove. I panicked, trying to pull away, but she didn't loosen her hold. My stomach sank as she gazed at my hand, the ring still firmly attached to my finger. "How long has it been stuck?"

"All damn day," I muttered, embarrassed. "He asked me to hold onto it yesterday."

She gave me her signature knowing smile before pulling me over to the sink and filling it up with ice-cold water. She dunked my hand in it, and I cringed at the stabbing pain.

"The cold will bring down the swelling," she explained, holding my hand there for another minute before pulling it back out. She dried my hand off before reaching under the counter and grabbing a spray bottle of Windex. I watched with confusion as she sprayed my finger with it, soaking the ring, and then ever-so-carefully tugging at it. The ring slid right off, and I gaped at my hand, stunned.

"How the hell?"

"I've been married for years, Bella. I know how to get a stuck ring off."

I washed my hands, getting the Windex off of my skin, before turning back to her. Esme was wiping the ring off, her eyes narrowing as she eyed it. "Huh."

"What?" I asked, paranoid. "I didn't screw it up, did I?"

"No, it's just not the ring I thought it was," she replied. "Edward showed me the one he was planning to get Tanya. He must've changed his mind."

She handed it to me, and I slid it into my pocket, smiling sheepishly. "Thank you. I thought I was going to have to have it cut off."

"You were probably just making it worse by panicking. The more you struggle, the more you'll swell."

"I'll remember that," I mumbled. "How did you know I had it on, anyway?"

She shrugged. "I know you, Bella. I can tell when something's wrong."

Timidly, I knocked on the Cullen's front door, my stomach churning when I heard footsteps inside. The door was pulled open and Esme appeared, her eyes widening when she saw me standing there. "Bella, what a surprise."

"Is, uh… is he home?"

Esme smiled softly. "Yes, he's upstairs."

"Can you get him for me, please?"

She hesitated before stepping aside. "You should get him yourself."

"But, uh… I don't think he'd…"

"Go on," she said, motioning toward the stairs.

Slowly, I stepped inside the house. Carlisle looked up at me from the couch, smiling in greeting as I walked by. I forced a smile back, grateful they didn't seem angry with me, and started up the stairs when Esme called my name. "Bella, whatever it is, whatever's wrong, I'm certain it'll be okay, sweetheart."

I thanked her quietly before going the rest of the way up the stairs, slowly creeping toward Edward's bedroom. The door was open, and I paused in the doorway, gazing inside. Edward lay across his bed with his earbuds in, wearing a pair of dirty jeans and a black Janis Joplin t-shirt. I stood there for a moment, silently, just watching him as he kicked his foot and drummed his hands to the song he was listening to.

He sat up eventually and I tensed when our eyes met, his movements ceasing. He sat frozen for a moment before pulling off his headphones. "Swan."

"Edward," I said quietly. I felt the tears forming again but fought them back.

His expression was blank, but his voice betrayed him, cracking as he spoke. "Did you need something?"

I nodded. "I, uh… I'm late."

"Late for what?"

I just stared at him, unable to get the words to form. His blank expression slipped to confusion, his brow furrowing, before something seemed to snap inside of him. His eyes widened, and he shook his head slowly as if in denial.

I nodded, losing the fight against my tears. They started sliding down my cheeks, and I covered my mouth to hold back a sob that threatened to break loose. Edward sighed, opening his arms. I went to him and he pulled me into his embrace, the two of us wordlessly climbing into his bed. He grabbed his earbuds again, sticking one in his ear before giving me the other. I snuggled into his chest, inhaling his Cool Water cologne as the sounds of Lynyrd Skynyrd washed through me.

Closing my eyes, I felt him press a gentle kiss in my hair, and just like that, all my fear melted away.
Neither of us spoke, and no one bothered us, even as we broke Esme's cardinal rule… no sleeping together in Edward's bed.