We're going down,
And you can see it too.
We're going down,
And you know that we're doomed.
My dear,
We're slow dancing in a burning room.

-John Mayer; Slow Dancing In A Burning Room

EPOV

When I came to terms with the fact that Bella would not be coming back through those doors and that I would not be talking to her again that night, I took a seat and began to think. I thought about what if felt like to touch her, what it felt like to see her, I thought about what it felt like to want to take care of her.

I needed a drink. I stood up with the thought of a scotch firmly on my mind, but as I approached the bar, I was stopped by a pair of familiar green eyes.

"Edward, who was that girl you were just talking to?" Ah hell, someone had seen us. Not just someone, my mother. I didn't know how to answer that question and not lie. More importantly, I didn't know who Isabella was to me right now. Under any other circumstances I would of told my mother she was someone I saw casually, but even that would have been a lie. Bella was never a casual encounter, she had been the center of my world—as screwed up as that world was—and she was what made my world turn.

"That was a friend of mine." She was at the very least my friend. Well... at least I think were still friends. God this was giving me a headache. I tried to move past so that I could get that scotch, but my mother was never one for any easy answer.

"She's pregnant, yes?" I took a deep breath and nodded my head yes. This conversation was going to places that I really didn't want to go to. I met my mother's eyes and saw that there was something she was piecing together on her own. I knew I needed to defuse the situation and quickly, because if not, there would be a fall out right here and now.

"I haven't seen her in a while mom, I'm not sure how far she is or even who..." I was going to say who the father was, but even with as big an asshole as I was, I couldn't bring myself to say it. So I didn't. "...I don't know a whole lot mom... she's a very private person." With that I kissed my mother's cheek and moved past her successfully this time and hit the bar.

When I made it to the bartender I ordered my drink and waited while he made it quickly. I was anxious to taste it, and calm my nerves; I was desperately in need of making some sense of my actions tonight. Just as he handed me the glass, I felt a warm arm wrap around my center. Instinctively I tensed, and when I felt said hand resting on my waist, I turned around and there was Kate.

I hadn't realized I groaned out loud until she flinched and stepped back. I didn't even try to recover it. I hadn't invited her here, my father had. I felt her hand slip away and I focused on my drink instead of the woman attempting to claim a place at my side.

"Edward, if you want this to work, then you're going to have to acknowledge me when were in a room together... as dates." I didn't acknowledge her words and instead focused on the way my scotch tasted. I really needed this drink. I was pulled from that thought though, because Kate attempted to reclaim my hip. This time I made myself very clear.

"I never asked for things to work, did I Kate? Remove your arm from my side. Your here as a favor to my father... not a favor to me." I finished my drink in two gulps and disregarded the glass at the bar. I began my walk to leave and I caught my father's stare from across the room. He was basically telling me that I needed to acknowledge Kate, right now, even if I didn't want to. No doubt he had watched the entire scene play out. I huffed out my aggravation; I'm a twenty nine year old man, not a child. All the same though, I turned back to Kate and reached for her hand. I regretted it instantly. Because I had offered her the hand I had touched Isabella with... touched our baby with. It felt so wrong.

We stayed for a half hour longer, and when I could no longer stand having Kate attempt to stake a claim to me any longer, I excused us for the evening and we entered the limo. We dropped her off first; she didn't live far from Trump International. I let Farren, our driver walk her to the door, and waited patiently in my seat. I wasn't about to give this girl any hope, especially not my father for that fact.

BPOV

I had about three cartons of ice cream laid out in front of me. This was not depression eating, this was a celebration; A celebration that I walked away, a celebration that I didn't fall to pieces.

I wasn't sure what had passed between us tonight. I actually left with about a dozen questions running through my head. The most dominate one was why did he always touch my stomach? Was he trying to confirm I was indeed pregnant? Maybe he was just checking to see if I would yell at him? I wanted to believe it was because he wanted to touch him or her. That thought brought a wave of sadness over me as I realized that those were probably the only times I was going to feel him acknowledging my pregnancy. I guess that's why I didn't ever stop him... It was nice to feel his hands on our baby... I didn't exactly have a lot of friends who would be coming around and doing it in his place. Everyone I loved was in Washington, and I was living in Chicago. Outside of Carmen from the office, that was about all the affection I had going for me.

I picked up the cartons and piled a good helping of all three ice creams into a bowl and settled on the couch to watch a movie. It was Friday today and that meant that I didn't have to worry about anything for three more days. I smiled as I sat down on my oversized goose down couch and wrapped my sweater around me for some warmth. I let myself enjoy the relaxation of being home on my yoga pants and t shirt. I let myself enjoy the beauty of eating as much ice cream I wanted... I was pregnant and that gave me a free pass. I smiled to myself and then sadness hit me again... I was of course alone... I had no one to justify myself to.

Before I could get too down on that, I went ahead and turned the television on. Just my luck... Sleepless in Seattle was on.

Saturday morning came with a better outlook. I got out of bed, showered and decided to go out and hit some farmers markets. I was doing really well about eating well, but I never gave much thought about it until now. Now I had to think about it. So with thought in place I hit a few of the local ones in my neighborhood. Hyde Park had a very good selection.

I spent most of the morning walking the different districts and filling my tote bags with different fruits and vegetables. It was the first time in a long while since I enjoyed a day to myself and actually had...fun. Around two o'clock I decided to head back home and start a nice lunch.

About half way home, my bags were beginning to gain weight. I stopped for a little bit at a side market and grabbed a water and juice. I plopped myself down on the steps of the market and took in the beauty of my surroundings. Spring was in action and the colors of flowers that lined the streets in the vendors markets were the most beautiful things I had ever seen.

After about ten minutes I was ready to get up and start the last part of my journey. I took my time though, and even though the bags were cutting into my circulation, I let myself fully appreciate the day and not rush.

When I turned the corner on my street, I was in full-fledged happy mode. I was already imagining the avocado, cream cheese and turkey sandwich I would have for lunch, and I sped up a little. I stopped cold in my tracks though when I reached my stairs and actually looked up and saw what was waiting there. It was Edward.

I took a deep cleansing breath and began the feat of climbing the stairs to unlock my door. I didn't acknowledge him; instead I focused on trying to get my keys from my bag without spilling my groceries on the cement.

"Here, let me help you, Bella." I turned around and found him taking the bags from my arms. When he got the one out of my left arm fully from me, I heard his breath hitch. I looked up to see what happened, but his eyes were focused on my arm. I looked down and saw what it was that had captured his attention. The straps had embedded themselves into my skin and left marks. I rolled my eyes and reached into the bag he held open and found my keys. Just as I turned to open the door, I felt him grab my other bag. Again I rolled my eyes.

The idea that he was worried about a canvas bag hurting me when he had hurt me more than anything or anyone was just ridiculous. I figured he was here to talk, so I stepped in and to the side so that he could follow in behind me. He watched me for a moment and then went straight to the kitchen so that he could drop the canvas bags on the island for me.

I followed behind him and let myself begin the task of rinsing vegetables and fruit while he stood awkwardly to my right and watched in silence. I knew this would happen eventually, I figured it would have come after the baby, but after last night, I should have known it would be sooner.

"Would you like something to eat? I'm about to make some lunch for myself." I finished rinsing the avocado I had in my hand and turned to look at him briefly. He was watching me with a torn expression, and I knew it was because he was nervous. I smiled at him and went back to my vegetables. I rather enjoyed a nervous, Edward. He answered me after a few moments.

"Lunch would be nice, but please, let me take you out so you don't have to cook." His voice was nervous and when I looked up his eyes were ashamed. I just shook my head and went back to grabbing the bread from the bakery bag and gathering the things I would need for our small meal.

"I actually prefer cooking... I like to be in the kitchen." I glanced back up to him and he was watching me and smiled as he accepted defeat. We stayed silent for a few minutes as I sliced bread and cut open the avocados. When I chanced a glance back at him, he was watching me work intently. It caught me off guard a little and when he saw I stopped, he averted his eyes to the living room. I decided to spare him and give him a task so that he could move around.

"Would you mind turning on the Ihome for me? The remote is sitting on the shelf just to your right." He looked almost giddy to be given a task and I had suppressed the grin and chuckle that threatened to break free. Not even a moment later, music was flowing through the speakers and the need to talk was sated by the background noise.

About ten minutes later I handed him a plate with my specialty sandwich. He smiled and accepted it and looked it over with a smile.

"What is this?" He said it with a hint of amazement and I chuckled at his face.

"Cream cheese, smoked turkey, watercress, balsamic sauce and some cucumber... just try it. I'll make you something else if you don't like it." His eyes popped open wide as he looked at me and he began back tracking.

"No! No... I just never saw anyone make a gourmet sandwich at home... It looks delicious." He finished his rant and placed his plate in front of him.

"Drink?" I asked him. He shrugged his shoulders with a smile.

"I'll have what you're having." I poured a glass of green tea for myself, then one for him and stood there at the island deciding where I should sit. I grabbed his glass and placed it at the counter where he was settled in on a stool then went back to the island and awkwardly just looked around.

"Isabella, you should sit... aren't you tired at all?" I was taken aback by that. He sounded nervous... maybe even worried. I felt an ember of hope light in me, but I made myself kill it. He was just being polite... he didn't want this. I placed my hand on my stomach and I corrected my thought silently, he doesn't want us.

I grabbed my drink and plate and sat next to him and began eating. I decided to just focus on my food for the moment, the talk he came to have would just have to wait until I was full.

He didn't seem to oppose that action and began eating as well. So there we sat, the two most awkward people in Chicago, side by side, eating a sandwich.

He didn't try to speak and neither did I. The music served as a nice distraction for a while, but then the awkwardness became a thick wool blanket as John Mayer's, Slow Dancing in a Burning Room, came on. I was mid drink when the lyrics started pouring through. To make matters worse it was one of those songs that just seemed to play louder than all the other songs we had just heard... or maybe this one just hit a cord and I heard it far better than any other.

I was thankful my sandwich was done; it gave me a reason to stand up and move from his side. I ended up back around the counter and rinsing dishes as a distraction. It didn't work. Suddenly everything John had to say was like nails on a chalk board and the term slow dancing in a burning room had a whole new meaning. It's exactly what we were doing at this exact moment.

We were slow dancing around the fact that I'm pregnant and that he want's nothing to do with it. It sounded cruel... but saying it any other way was just being polite. I was over being polite.

"Why are you here?" I didn't say it to be mean; I said it because I truly didn't know.

He stood then and made his way to my side. I watched as his hand reached across and placed his plate under the water then loaded it in the dishwasher. I shut the water, just so I had something to do and waited. After what felt like a life time, he answered me.

"I don't know how to answer that question without hurting you."

He was at least being honest. I had a pretty good idea what he was here about. Not absolutely sure at this point, but if I were to bet, I would say he was here to make sure I wasn't going to name him as the father.

I felt the sting in my eyes as I let that sink in. I didn't say anything else, instead I made my way over to the living room and sat down in the single reading chair and focused my gaze on the breeze outside and how the leaves would flutter in its wake. I heard his steps follow after me moments later, and then he took a seat in the large couch to my left. He didn't say anything for a long while but then he found his courage.

"What are you planning on doing, Bella?" That was a loaded question. Surely he didn't still expect me not to have the baby... he had to know this was a sealed deal. I looked over to see his face and get an idea of what he meant exactly.

"What exactly do you mean, Edward? Are you wondering if I'm going to keep this baby?" His eyes went wide for a moment and then he was shaking his head no.

"No... I know you want the baby. I mean what are your plans after? During? What are you going to tell people?" His voice dropped on that last part. I wasn't sure if it was because he felt bad for asking, or if it was because he was scared I was going to out him.

I didn't bother looking at him as I spoke. It wasn't worth it. Instead I stayed focused on the open window and the wind. "I'm going to get through his pregnancy before I decide where I will go. Don't worry, Edward... we won't stay in Chicago. I have no plans to make life harder for us... if it's a boy, he'll surely look enough like you to raise question, and I wouldn't want that kind of attention brought on him. If it's a girl, well... she..." My voice was cracking at this point. I had grown up without a father and the thought that I was bringing a baby in this world alone was a sore reminder of that. I composed myself enough to continue, but my voice had lost its strength.

"He or she will have me." I turned to him then, "I'm not so bad." It was in that last statement that I saw the first real emotion on his face. He didn't hide it, he didn't try to stop it, and he let it come.

"No you're not, Isabella... your perfect." I felt the tears hit my cheeks and I turned back to the window. I don't know why I kept going, but I did.

"Just not good enough for you..." I heard him get up then and before I could think he was leaving, he was kneeling in front of me.

"I'm sorrier than you can ever know, Isabella. Truly I am."

I stayed looking over his head and out the window as I said my peace. "I'm just sorry about the end... nothing else."

He didn't say another word to me, and instead of continuing on the torture, he got up slowly, kissed my head and quietly walked out of my home.

I walked out of her home with a pain deeper than the one I had entered with. I got as far as my car door until I realized I was shaking with tears. I stood there in between my exit and her home completely torn about what I should do. I didn't know what I wanted anymore... I didn't know how to walk away. So there I stood, not leaving and not going back to her...

I was the one you always dreamed of,
You were the one I tried to draw.
How dare you say it's nothing to me?
Baby, you're the only light I ever saw.

-John Mayer; Slow Dancing in a Burning Room.