A|N: Hey there, ladies, sorry for the delay! I don't have an update schedule yet but I should soon. Chapter four is with my betas and chapter five is nearly done, so the updates should be twice a week (or twice a day, maybe) whenever I get my schedule down.

Chapter 3: Let Our Bygones be Bygones

Charlie shook his head and narrowed his eyes at me. "If you don't do it, Isabella, you're going to have to get out."

I stared at him in shock; surely I misunderstood what I'd heard. "Dad, you – you can't be serious! You'd kick me out because I don't want to go live with some random stranger? What the fuck is your problem?" I yelled, shocking the both of us when I dropped the f-bomb.

"You will not speak to me that way!" he yelled back. "I'll do whatever I have to do, Bella, to keep Renee and me comfortable."

"But…" I trailed off at his raised hand.

Dad shook his head and heaved a sigh. "I wish there was some other way, Bella," he said. "If it makes you feel any better, we don't have an answer yet. He could say no and then you'll be able to stay."

He turned on his heel and walked into the kitchen, while I turned on mine and walked up the stairs, stifling the sobs that tried to break free.

Whether I get to stay home or not, depends on some guy and whether he finds me hot or not.

~MOB~

The next morning, I woke up and decided I would make an actual effort to get along with Edward. I had decided that I would stay, if only because I knew my parents really needed the money. I showered, threw on a pair of jean shorts and a red tank top, and headed downstairs, where Cynthia was cooking breakfast again.

"Morning, doll," she said cheerfully. "How would you like some waffles and eggs?"

I grinned at her and sat down at the island. "I'd love some. Where's Edward?" I asked, looking around for him. "Is he at work again?"

Cynthia handed me a plate of food and set a bottle of syrup in front of me before sitting at the island with her own plate of food. "No, he's out on his morning run. I'll have to give you both of our work schedules so you know what's up," she said.

I nodded. "Speaking of work schedules, when do you get off today?"

She screwed up her face in concentration before looking at me with a smile and said, "Today is Wednesday, right? Edward usually chooses to take his days off on Wednesdays, so I won't be leaving until around eight-thirtyish, after I make dinner."

"Thanks for telling me. The first duty I am going to do as Edward's wife is let you off early," I told her. Cynthia took a bite of her waffle and raised an eyebrow at me. I took that as a sign for me to continue. "Edward and I had a… conversation yesterday, and I was faced with an ultimatum. I've made my decision, and I'm going to make dinner for Edward to tell what it is."

Cynthia chuckled. "So, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say this 'conversation' was really a fight, and that fight made up your mind to stay. I'm glad," she said.

I blushed. "Uh-huh, that's exactly it. I was going to make lasagna…" I trailed off when the front door could be heard slamming shut.

"That's Edward's favorite." Cynthia winked at me as she gave me this information. "I have some errands to run, so I better…"

She stopped talking when Edward's footsteps faltered behind me. Her eyes widened, and then her lips pulled into a smirk. The minute Edward walked into my view, I knew why. He was wearing a pair of black basketball shorts with no shirt. His skin was shining because of the dripping sweat, and every time he lifted his arms up to get something in the higher cabinets, his muscles in his back moved in ways that I found myself liking way too much.

He turned around, and my breath caught in my throat. I looked over to my left and blushed madly at being caught staring. "Hello, Edward, did you have a nice run?"

"Mmmhmm," he mumbled.

I peeked back over at him and saw him chugging down a bottle of water. I watched with an intense interest as his Adam's apple moved up and down as he swallowed, and I bit my lip to keep a groan from escaping as I watched the sweat run down his neck and onto his chest…

"How does that sound, Bella?" Cynthia asked, bringing me out of my lustful haze.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I asked her, rolling my eyes and blushing at the grin she was giving me.

Cynthia laughed and repeated, "I said, since you're letting me get off early today, I'll go get my errands done now, and take off when I get back?"

"Again, she gave you the day off?" Edward questioned.

I nodded my head. "Yeah, Cynthia, that sounds good. You don't mind picking up a few things from the store for me, do you?"

"Nope, let me go get my purse and my shoes, and when I come back, I'll jot down what you want."

Cynthia walked out of the kitchen, and I began writing down the things I wanted her to get from the store, aware of Edward's eyes on me. "You gave Cynthia the day off?" Edward asked me, resting his elbows on the counter.

I looked up from the piece of paper I was writing on and nodded. "Yeah, I did. I figured I'd make you dinner and then we could talk, without fighting this time, and set some things straight."

"So, you're staying?" He looked at me with a raised eyebrow, clearly surprised. Another emotion lingered on his face for awhile before it was replaced with a cool nonchalance. He nodded his head and stood up straight. "That's cool. What are you making for dinner?"

"I was thinking, for our first meal together" – I couldn't help but chuckle at that – "that I'd make something simple – lasagna."

"Why are you making lasagna?" he asked with a hard edge to his voice.

I frowned and said, "Um, because it's my favorite and I noticed we had most of the ingredients for it. Unless, of course, you want me to make something else, then…"

"That's fine, I was just curious," he cut me off. "I'm going to take a shower, and then my brother is coming over. What you do with yourself during that time I don't really care, just don't break any of my shit or steal it."

"Where exactly would I put your 'shit' if I stole it? Inside my room? That would be about as dumb as a murderer thinking he could get away with it, even though he left the bloody knife with his fingerprints on it right next to the body." I laughed at the annoyed look on his face. "Calm down, Edward, I won't steal a thing, I promise. I'll try not to break them either."

I made the "scouts honor" sign with my hand but I didn't know the girl scouts used a different sign than the boys, but I'd never made it past being a brownie. "I've got half a brain to know better than to think you were actually in the Girl Scouts," he said.

I shrugged. "And I've got half a brain to know when I've been caught."

"It also helps that you're holding up the Boy Scouts sign," he called to me after he walked out of the kitchen.

I, of course, blushed, and flipped him off, wishing like hell he could see it. "Hey, Edward!" I poked my head out of the kitchen just as he was about to go down the hall leading to the stairs. He raised an eyebrow at me in question. "I'm sorry. About what I…"

"Let's let our bygones be bygones, Bella," he said before disappearing down the hall.

I frowned in surprise and walked back to the island. I finished my shopping list just as Cynthia came back into the room.

"Strawberry ice cream, Simply Raspberry Lemonade, Tampax Pearl, , two cans of Pringles, regular chewy Lifesavors, Fruit Loops and Apple Jacks, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, two percent milk, shaving cream, and a big box of Rice Krispy treats (preferably the 40 pack)," Cynthia read my entire list. She raised an eyebrow at me. "Would like a side of vegetables with your diabetes?"

I laughed. "I mean, if you think I need some. Oh, wait, I actually do need a side of vegetables. I usually don't eat anything with my lasagna unless it is Texas toast, but I don't know if Edward…"

"Really good seasoned broccoli," Cynthia said.

"Sounds good to me," I said with a shrug. I hand her forty bucks that I had in my pocket so she could get my things. "Thank you, by the way."

Cynthia nodded, took the money, and gave me a smile before leaving the kitchen. I paced the room for about ten minutes before I raced out and up the stairs. I stopped outside the room at the very end of the hall and threw the door open and yelled, "Edward, I'm – holy shit!"

I threw my hand over my eyes and squeezed them tightly for good measure before turning to leave. "Ow," I moaned out in pain after I crashed into the wall. "Oh, my fuck!" I cupped my foot in my hands and began massaging it. I hopped around on one foot until I bumped into Edward and found myself on the ground again.

"If you opened your eyes, you wouldn't be going through all this trouble," Edward said, not even trying to conceal the laughter in his voice.

I opened my eyes and stared in horror as I saw that he was still naked, but I couldn't bring myself to close them back or look away. I felt my face heat up when I finally looked up at Edward's face.

"If you wanted to see me naked, you could have at least bought me dinner first. And you could've gotten me drunk; I don't just get naked for any ol' body and for no reason at all," he scolded me, sounding way more serious than his smirk made him appear.

I bit my bottom lip to keep from humoring him by giving a sarcastic remark or laughing. I shouldn't find people I am supposed to hate funny.

"I'm sorry I… interrupted," I said apologetically.

"Interrupted what, exactly?" Edward asked me with an eyebrow raised in amusement.

I rolled my eyes. "You know, what you were doing."

"What do you think I was doing, Bella?" he asked me, barely able to hide his chuckle.

I huffed in annoyance. "I thought you were doing what all young men do when they're naked and alone."

Edward snorted and asked, "Jacking off?"

"No, pretending to be a ballerina in their mirror," I deadpanned.

He stared at me for a moment before surprising me by throwing his head back and laughing loudly. I couldn't help but laugh right along with him.

"Was there something specific you wanted that caused you to barge into my room like that?" he asked me after we both calmed down and he got dressed.

I turned around from his massive CD collection to look at him and nodded. "I did, actually. I came to apologize," I told him.

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. "I thought I already said…"

"I can't just let our bygones be bygones with your bygone thinking mine hates him. Or her, whichever you prefer," I said, cutting him off. "I didn't mean all of what I said. I mean, I don't like you, but I don't hate you. Hate is a very strong word, and I can't hate someone I don't know. It's not in my nature."

Edward stared at me for a moment, as if I'd grown three heads or five, before nodding. He frowned slightly, rubbed the back of his neck and said, "Um, okay. I… forgive you? And I'm sorry, too, I guess. I was kind of an asshole."

"Kind of?" I questioned with a raised eyebrow and a snort. "I guess that's all I'm going to get, so I won't complain. Thank you for that, Edward. That was all I wanted; to apologize and see you naked." His eyes widened in surprise and I laughed. "I'm sorry, I had to do it."

He smirked back at me and nodded. "It's cool. Um, my best friend and my brother are coming over soon, and I just got a call from work. They need me to come in for something, so I should be gone for an hour or two. Do you mind…?"

"That's why I'm here, right?" I cut him off. "Your best friend and your brother will be taken care of, I promise. You go hold it down at work, and I'll hold it down here."

"All right," he said, and we walked out of his room and back down the stairs.

"Are they allergic to anything? I saw a lot of fruit in your refrigerator, so I figured I'd make a big fruit salad and maybe some sandwiches," I said.

He paused with his hand on the doorknob leading to the garage, and I looked at him. He shrugged. "Emmett eats anything, but Rosalie hates mangos. If you're going to make sandwiches, Emmett hates tomatoes but loves extra pickles, while Rosalie hates both of those and prefers extra cheese," he told me.

I nodded. "All right, thanks. Have a good day at work," I said.

"'Bye," he said and left.

I stood there and listened to the garage door open and then close and realized I hadn't asked him how long I had until they got here.

Shit. I didn't ask him how much Emmett knew of our situation, either.

~MOB~

The doorbell rang an hour later, and I froze with the knife still inside the orange. I made us each two sandwiches, they were in the refrigerator. Then, as I tried to get all of the fruit out of the fridge, I watched, shocked, as everything inside came falling down.

Drinks spilled, beer bottles broke, and leftover food splattered on everything in the kitchen including me. It took me an hour to clean up and by the time the doorbell rang, I only had a few strawberries cut up and ready to be served.

"Edward, man, open the fucking door!" a loud, deep voice boomed, banging on the door.

It made me jump, and I let out a small yelp when the knife sliced into my pointer finger. I rushed over to the sink to rinse it off and yelled, "Hold on, please! I'm coming."

"She's here already? Why didn't you tell me that?" the same voice, who I assumed to be Emmett, hissed.

I looked out the peephole and saw a massive guy with even bigger muscles towering over the beautiful blonde I came to know as Ms. Hale.

"I figured Edward told you," she said smoothly.

I opened the door, cutting off whatever Emmett was going to say. He looked down at me and his eyes widened in surprise, but then he chuckled when he looked at the rest of me.

"Don't know your way around the kitchen?" he asked.

I glared. "I do, thank you very much," I snapped. "I'm just clumsy sometimes, forgive me."

He chuckled. "You're a feisty one, eh? I like that. May we come in?"

I nodded quickly and moved out of the way. "I'm sorry, of course. This is practically your house, too," I said. "I don't think I could stop you from coming in even if I wanted to."

He laughed and walked past me and headed straight for the kitchen, leaving me and Ms. Hale by ourselves. "Isabella, it's so nice to officially meet you. I'm Rosalie," she said, offering her hand.

I took it and smiled shyly. "Um, you too, Ms. Hale, but please, call me Bella. Isabella is much too formal for me," I said.

"Then you have to call me Rosalie," she countered.

"I can handle that."

We walked back to kitchen, and I was proud of myself for somehow managing to not answer her questions about my stay, though she was relentless and I knew she'd get her answers eventually. When we actually walked into the kitchen, we saw Emmett standing over the trashcan, both of his hands covering his mouth in shock.

"What – what happened to all the food?" he choked out, literally sounding on the verge of tears.

I looked over at Rosalie, and she rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Emmett, are you about to start crying over food?"

I giggled when he nodded. "I'm sorry, Emmett. I told you I was clumsy. I was just trying to get the fruit out, and I tripped and grabbed onto the top shelf and then everything came crashing down. I guess I'm heavier than I realized," I said with a frown.

"Anyone would have broken it, Bella," Rosalie said.

I shrugged off her comment, walked over to the refrigerator, and pulled out our sandwiches. "Luckily, we were having sandwiches for lunch anyways. Edward told me what you all like, so I hope I did them justice," I said and handed them over.

"Awesome," Emmett said with a firm nod and thumbs up. "I don't think I could make it any better."

"You probably couldn't make it all," Rosalie quipped, throwing a balled-up napkin at him. "What, with you not being able to cook and all."

He rolled his eyes and declared, "I can cook!"

"TV dinners don't count as cooking," I quipped.

Emmett frowned and stuck his tongue out at me while Rosalie laughed and high-fived me. "You have any pickles?" she asked.

"We have some, but I didn't give you any because Edward said you hated them," I told her.

Rosalie rolled her eyes and jumped down from on top of the counter and went through the refrigerator until she found them. "I told Edward I hate them on my hamburgers and sandwiches, but I like them as a food," she explained.

I nodded. "I get that. I'm the same way."

"So, you are Bella, right?" Emmett asked me.

"Yes."

"So, you're Edward's wife then?"

"I am," I answered, narrowing my eyes suspiciously at him, and tried to figure out where he was going with this.

"What is it you do for a living, Bella?"

"Leave her alone, Emmett!" Rosalie snapped, hitting him on the back of his head. She faced me with a smile. "Don't worry about him, Bella. He's just being a pain in the ass; Emmett knows about you and Edward."

"He knows about Edward and me?" I asked.

Emmett nodded. "I know all about y'all and what he did to get you here. Honestly, I didn't think someone would actually call. Hell, I didn't think he'd actually pick someone. You're so young, too," he said.

"I'll be nineteen in a month," I told him. "I'm not that young."

"Compared to us you are. Well, Alice will be happy to not be the only young one now," he told Rosalie.

"Who's Alice?"

"Alice is mine and Edward's younger sister: she turned nineteen back in July," Emmett explained. "Do you know the story?"

I shook my head. "What story?"

"Of how you and Edward met," he clarified. "This was all in the package he sent on himself. You didn't feel like reading it?"

"More like my dad didn't feel the need to share the information with me," I replied. "I never actually thought of that. I guess I should know that if I were to be asked, huh?"

"Exactly," Rosalie said as she took a bite of her pickle. "You're a dancer, correct?" I nodded. "Great. So, the story is that you and Edward met back in April when you went to Las Vegas with your team for a competition. The two of you fell madly in love, but your father didn't approve of him because of his age. You guys had to be sneaky, and when you met back up in June in California for another dance competition, you decided to get married. Your mother, Renee, wanted you to do what made you happy and gave you all her blessing to go and get married. You left to Las Vegas with him that night. Your dad tried to convince you to divorce him for weeks before finally kicking you out, not that that mattered since you were planning on living with Edward anyway."

I placed the last of the fruit in the big salad bowl and made my own bowl before I sat down at the counter. "Wow," I said after swallowing a piece of strawberry. "Edward really thought that through, didn't he? Those are actual months I went to dance competitions."

"Well, he had to be thorough. And, if anyone were to get suspicious, we're also saying that Edward bought a hefty amount of China from your mother, since, you know, that's what she sells for a living," Emmett said.

"Do you mean 'suspicious' as in if people were to start questioning all the money that was deposited into Dad's account?" I asked them.

"Spot on," Rosalie said. "So, hey, where is everybody?"

"Um…" I trailed off for a minute when the garage door could be heard opening. "That's either Edward or Cynthia. Edward had to go into work for about an hour or two, and Cynthia ran some errands and went to the store for me."

Cynthia and Edward walked in together, much to my surprise. They were both carrying bags, and I got up to help put the things away.

"I've got it, honey. You get your things, though, and see if I picked the right items," Cynthia said and handed me two bags. She walked toward the fridge, and I winced when she gasped. "What in the heck happened to all the food?"

"It's in the trashcan." Edward's eyes immediately fell on me. "Why is all my food in the garbage?"

"It was an accident!" I defended myself, blushing slightly. "I tripped and grabbed onto the top shelf, and everything went crashing down. I'll replace everything, though, so don't worry."

"You can't replace my beer," he grumbled as he tied up the bag. He walked out of the kitchen door that led to the backyard, slamming the door.

"He's mad at me," I said.

"Edward's mad at everyone," Cynthia said. "Emmett, you should go make sure he doesn't break something – like his hand."

Emmett nodded and left and Rosalie stood and put her things in the sink. "I'm going to the basement," she said.

"What's in the basement?" I asked Cynthia. Emmett and Edward came back in then, sans a broken hand, and they went to the basement, too.

"Um, entertainment room, dance room, and a small workout area for them," she answered after they were gone. "You're free to go down there, you know."

I nodded. "Thanks, but I don't think Edward wants me there. I'm going to get started on dinner now. It'll take a while to get finished since the meat is still frozen and all," I said. "Are you going home?"

"That I am," she said. "Thanks for giving me the rest of the day off, Bella."

I shrugged. "You're welcome. We're adults and I figure we can do some things ourselves, right?"

"Sure, but I like working for Edward. He's been with me since he was born," she said. "All right, I'm gone."

"'Bye."

I looked at the clock and saw that it was two. It would take me about two hours to get everything ready for dinner and another forty-five minutes for it to bake.

~MOB~

"You actually fucking did it," Emmett muttered.

I stopped walking just before I could be seen in the door and pressed my back up against the wall. Dinner was put in the oven, and the three of them were still down in the basement.

"Took you longer than I thought it would for you to say something," was Edward's response.

"She's eighteen."

"Legal," Edward defended himself.

"She's a good girl, Edward."

"What exactly are you trying to say here, Emmett?"

"I'm saying don't fuck her over. Rosalie likes her and so do I. And, if you fuck this up, we're not going to help you do this again. It's fucking ridiculous, Edward. If you'd man the fuck up, you wouldn't have to find a wife this way," Emmett declared.

"I've no comment for that," Edward said.

Emmett snorted quietly. "Of course you don't. Are you going to fuck her?" he asked crudely.

"Christ, Emm, are you seriously asking me that?" Edward asked in disbelief. "No. I'm not going to have sex with her. I've already told her that."

"What was her dad's reason?"

"All he said was that he was desperate. Get this, Emm: he's the chief of police."

"No shit?" Emmett said, sounding surprised.

"None what so ever," Edward answered.

"It's always the ones that are supposed to be fighting for the law that you have to look after," Emmett said.

"I could have sworn I told y'all to shut up. You're messing up my concentration," Rosalie snapped.

"If you need to concentrate to stand on your tippy-toes, then you weren't meant to be a ballerina," Edward said.

I moved into the doorway, just in time to see Rosalie throw her red heel at him. I let out a mock sigh of disappointment when he caught it. "You do ballet?" I asked Rosalie when all eyes turned to me.

She rolled her eyes and snorted. "No way; I'm a gymnast, but my former coach told me I should take some ballet classes to get more balance, and it sort of stuck," she explained.

I nodded in understanding. "I used to be a hardcore gymnast, but then my coach suggested the same thing and I became a hardcore ballerina," I said with a chuckle. "But gymnastics will always be my first love."

"Not another one!" Emmett and Edward groaned together.

I looked at them in surprise. "Not another what?" I asked them.

"A dancer! Another fucking dancer," Emmett said. "You remember our sister, Alice, that I was telling you about?" I nodded. "Well, she's a dancer, too. Some hip-hop-ballet type thing, or whatever, and when these two" – he pointed to Rosalie – "Rosalie and Alice, get together, all they do is talk about dance and gymnastics and try to do all these flips and shit in a room that they know is too small."

I laughed and Rosalie rolled her eyes. "We're not that bad. He's over exaggerating by, like, a lot. We talk about it, but not every time we're in the room together," she said.

"I believe you," I told her seriously. I tilted my head to the left slightly, noted her black spandex shorts and the white sports bra she changed in to, and smiled when I saw her ballet flats. "What were you working on?"

"Her purealays," Emmett answered me.

I burst into a fit of giggles. "She was working on her what?" I asked him just because I wanted to hear it again.

Emmett frowned at me. "Her purealays," he repeated. Rosalie joined me in my giggle fit when it happened again, and Emmett rolled his eyes and looked thoroughly annoyed. "What the hell is so funny?"

"They're called pirouettes," Rosalie explained.

"Then she was working on her pirouettes," Emmett said proudly.

"No."

"Then what the fuck were you working on?" Edward snapped.

"My fouettes," Rosalie said, chuckling softly at their bemused expressions.

"I get it; pirouettes are the leaping in the air and splitting things," Emmett said with a head nod.

I snickered. "You say they talk about it so much, yet you don't know anything. Those are jetes," I told him.

"How about you two show us the differences?" Edward suggested.

I looked at him in surprise before shaking my head. "I can't. I only came to say that dinner would be ready in forty-five minutes, and I still need to take a shower…"

"It won't take you long if you're as good as you say," he quipped.

I glared. "Excuse me?"

"These two here think ballet is so easy," Rosalie told me. "We should show them that it is not."

I nodded. "Fine, fine, you don't have to twist my arm," I said.

"I call the moves and you do them." Rosalie shrugged.

"Okay," I said.

"Grand pirouette."

"Fouette."

"Stag jump."

"Illusion turn."

"Grand jete."

"And to finish it off," Rosalie said, "I'd like for you to do an arabesque and then a pointe."

"It took me forever to perfect this," I groaned. "I had a Russian ballet teacher, and I do believe they are the strictest and the meanest with their freaking yard sticks."

I turned on my side and took a deep breath before turning my right foot out slightly, and then arched my back as my left leg went up behind me, making sure my foot was pointed nicely, before spreading my arms: one in the front and one going toward the back.

"How long can you hold that for?" Rosalie asked me softly.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering with, "I don't know. I never actually timed it before, but I'd like to think I can hold it for as long as I want as long as I concentrate on it."

"That's easy!" Emmett yelled. "I could do that in my sleep. You girls just make it seem so much harder."

"Then let us see you do it," Rosalie challenged. "If you can, we'll drop it."

"And if I can't?" he asked.

"You have to take a lesson from us," she told him, waving her finger between the two of us.

I put my leg down and moved over to stand by Rosalie, and Emmett stood up from the chair he'd been sitting in and stood in front of us.

"Are you ready for this awesomeness?" he asked us, a smug smile on his face.

Rosalie stepped back, pulling me with her, and said, "Oh, yes. We're ready for you to prove us wrong, Emm."

Emmett spread his arms wide, one in the front and one in the back, and arched his back before throwing his leg up behind him.

There was a deathly silence for a minute in the room before Rosalie and I suddenly erupted into a roaring laughter. "I can't breathe!" Rosalie wheezed out between laughter. "Oh, God, that was so bad."

Emmett's amazing arabesque wasn't so amazing. His foot turned the wrong way, and he could only get his leg up high enough for his foot to touch his butt, his knee bent.

"That is the worst," I said, grinning at him. "But you get an A for effort, Emm. That was good for a non-flexible beginner."

"Boom! In your face, bizotch!" he yelled, fist pumping me and sticking his tongue out at Rosalie.

She rolled her eyes and said something to him, but I tuned them out and walked over to Edward, who was still sitting in his chair, an amused smile on his face.

"What's up?" he asked me when I sat down.

I shrugged and smiled at him. "Nothing much, Edward; I just came down here to tell you that dinner would be ready. In thirty-five minutes from now," I said.

He nodded his head. "Lasagna?" he asked as he turned his head to look at me.

"Lasagna is correct. I have to go take a shower, because I smell like beer and every other food that spilled in your fridge, and then I'll meet you in the dining room?"

"We can do that," he answered softly.

I nodded and stood up. "Are they staying?" I pointed to Rosalie and Emmett who were arguing playfully.

"Nope; they'll probably be gone by the time you're out of the shower," Edward told me.

"Okay," I said before getting up and leaving.

~MOB~

When I got out of the shower, I still had twenty minutes left until dinner was ready, so I curled my hair. I stepped into a dark blue dress that stopped just a few inches above my knees with a black belt going around the waist and slipped into the only pair of heels that I had. They were high, and had I not been a gymnast and a dancer, I don't think I would have been able to walk in them.

I put on some waterproof mascara and some liquid eyeliner before stepping back and looking at myself in the full-length mirror. I smiled at my reflection and did a little twirl, proud of myself. I figured I might as well treat this dinner as a special occasion, because it kind of was, so I dressed up nicely and decided to be on my best behavior and see if Edward and I could really make this work.

I walked down the stairs and emerged from the hallway just as Rosalie and Emmett had gotten to the front door. Their heads turned together at the sound of my heels, and I smiled and walked faster toward them.

"Wow," Rosalie said. "You look gorgeous."

I blushed and said, "Thank you. I thought I did a pretty good job, too."

"Is there something more going on than just dinner?" Emmett asked. "You're all dressed up and fancy looking for just dinner."

"Yes, it is just dinner, but an important one, so I figured I'd make the best of it," I said with a shrug.

"Well, you look gorgeous, and I have faith that this dinner will go well," Rosalie said reassuringly. She stared me for a minute before rolling her eyes and bringing me into a hug. "Good luck," she whispered in my ear.

We broke apart and I grinned. "Don't worry. This is going to be legend-wait for it-dary!" I said.

There was a beat of silence before Rosalie groaned and Emmett threw his head back and laughed loudly. "Oh, Bella, please not you, too!" Rosalie said.

"I used to say I needed a Ted or Marshall to my Barney, but another Barney is so much better!" Emmett said excitingly.

I grinned widely at Emmett. "Are you serious right now, Emmett? You're a How I Met Your Mother fan, too? Oh, my God, this is great! Back home no one understood why I loved that show so much," I said with just as much enthusiasm as him.

He nodded his head vigorously. "I know! No one here gets it, either! That show is a Godsend. I love it. I'm a huge fan," he told me.

"Do you know what this means?" I asked him seriously.

A slow, lazy smile took over his face as he nodded his head. "I'm seeing where you're going with this, Bella, but I'd like for you to say it out loud anyway."

"We're going to have to have a How I Met Your Mother marathon, Swarley. I have all the seasons on DVD," I informed him.

"Oh, no way will I be Swarley!" Emmett yelled, offended. "Why do I get the Godawful nickname?"

"Because it was funny and you're funny," I said. "You two were always meant to be."

Emmett rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said. "I'll be the bigger person here…"

"You already are whether you choose to be or not," I said.

"'And be Swarley, but you can't get mad at me when I try to convince people about your crazy eyes'," he said, completely ignoring my comment.

I stuck my hand out and he shook it. "Deal," we said in unison.

Rosalie groaned. "You two seriously just had a whole conversation about a show that you both obviously watch too often," she said with a shake of her head.

"I bet you that by the end of season two, Rose will be hooked," Emmett said to me.

I snorted and shook my head. "No way; she'll be hooked sometime in season one," I said.

"I won't get hooked at all!" Rosalie declared.

"Do I feel a slap bet coming on?" Emmett asked me.

I grinned. "Same rules as the episode?" I asked him and he nodded. "Prepare to be slapped silly, Emmett. Now, you two should go so I can get mine and Edward's dinner set up."

They nodded and said their goodbyes for the final time before leaving. I closed the door behind them, laughing at Rosalie's insistence that she will not become hooked onto the show, before rushing back to the kitchen to check on the food.

"Just in time," I said to myself as I pulled the lasagna out of the oven. It looked perfect, and I was pretty sure it tasted just as good. Lasagna was my specialty.

After searching, and searching, and climbing on top of a counter for the cabinets I couldn't reach, I found the plates. I put a hefty amount on both on both of them with a helping of broccoli and rushed out to the dining room.

I froze mid-step and stared at the table in surprise. I mean, the table wasn't set up anything too special, but I was surprised that Edward had made the effort. Two placemats were on the table, a wine glass beside them, and a wine bottle sat in between two candles.

Edward stood behind the chair that sat at the head of the table. He was wearing a white button down shirt and dress pants, so I figured he had the same idea as me. He shrugged when he saw me looking at him. "Rosalie told me you'd appreciate the candles and a more… intimate atmosphere," he said.

"I do," I assured him. "Thank you." He sat down in his chair, and I placed our food on the placemats and sat on the right side of him. "We're drinking wine?"

"We are," he confirmed. "But I am only allowing you to drink it this once, seeing as how you are underage and all."

"Sweet!" I cheered, blushing when Edward rolled his eyes at me. "I mean, uh, that's wonderful. I get it."

"Do you blush at every single thing?" he asked me, irritation coloring his voice.

I rolled my eyes and frowned. "I do. I get it from my mother. Why? Is that a problem? Do you have a 'no blushing' rule or something?"

"What all did you want to talk about tonight?" he asked, ignoring my question.

"Is there even a point in me talking, seeing as how you're probably going to ignore everything I say anyway?"

"I don't ignore what you say, I store it away for later use. Now, can we get back to my question?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "I don't know. Do you have any house rules? Is there something more we're going to tell your parents and friends besides the story you came up with?" I asked him. "Can I have a reason as to why you did this in the first place?"

I took a bite of my lasagna and watched with rapt attention as he stuck the fork through his. This was test number one. The most important of all: the "can my newly bought wife cook" test. His face showed nothing as he chewed and then swallowed, but after he licked his lips, he grinned at me.

"This is honestly the best lasagna I've ever had," he said.

I beamed. "I'm glad to hear it! Lasagna is my favorite, and I've spent forever trying to get it just right," I told him.

"I can tell." He nodded his head and took another bite before sitting back in his chair. "I don't have any house rules besides the ones I told you earlier, I don't think. Um, don't break my shit, don't steal it. Ah. Don't throw wild parties in my house," he said, giving me a pointed look.

"Not all eighteen-year-olds try to throw parties when their parents are away," I told him flippantly. "Luckily, I don't live with them." I smirked. "No, I can abide by those. I'm not much of a partier, so you don't have to worry about that. I'm also not a thief. About the 'no breaking shit' rule, I'll try to follow that, but I can be clumsy. Shit tends to get broken when you're clumsy."

"We'll deal with it then," he said. "There's no other story to tell. I think the one we have is enough. You should be able to answer any other questions people ask you." He took another bite of his food and poured himself some wine. I gave him my glass, and he filled it for me. "As for my reasons, I just wanted my mother off my ass. She's forever complaining about my random hookups with 'poor girls with serious insecurities,' and my forever being dateless at important parties and events that we have. I don't plan on settling down, Bella, I'm not the commitment type, so I figured this would be the easiest way."

"Huh," I said. "What's so hard about settling down?"

"I'd rather not get into that right now," he snapped before taking a drink of his wine. "Is that all you wanted to talk about, or was there something else that you felt we should discuss?"

"You mentioned parties and being dateless. Will I be attending those with you as your wife?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. I rolled my eyes at myself in annoyance.

"You will," he said, humoring me.

I nodded. "So, um, Rosalie and Emmett told me what the story was today. Emmett also said you two have a sister. I figured that if your brother knows then she must know, am I right?"

Edward shook his head. "No, only my brother and Rosalie know. Rosalie knows because I asked her for help, and Emmett knows because he's the one who suggested it, so when I told Rosalie I really wanted to do it, I figured I had to tell him."

"He suggested you buy a woman?" I asked.

"He was joking, but he said it nonetheless."

I nodded. "Um, I honestly thought I would have more questions to ask, or more things to say, when I thought about this earlier," I told him.

Edward chuckled. "I thought you were going to have more to say, too. Well, you don't have to ask me everything tonight, so if you have anything more to say, you can come to me at any time," he said, sounding more sincere and kind than I thought possible for him. "You look surprised by what I said. I'm not always an asshole, despite the way I've been acting these past two days and whatever Cynthia told you."

I laughed and said, "Cynthia said you were a good guy, but you weren't nice to just anybody and that if I were to be a bitch to you would kick me out or something close to that."

"I wouldn't kick you out." He shook his head. "I don't think I'm that much of an asshole, but I can say that this wouldn't have been a happy home if you decided to take the bitch route."

I snickered. "The bitch route, I like that," I admitted. "That's nice to know, that you're not much of an asshole I mean, not that this wouldn't have been a happy home if I…"

"I get what you mean," he cut me off with a laugh. "This was amazing. Seriously, this was the best lasagna I've ever had, and if you tell Cynthia I told you that, I will hurt you."

I grinned. "My lips are sealed, I promise." I picked up my wine glass and smiled shyly at him. "I'd like to make a toast."

Edward grinned at me and picked up his glass as well and asked, "And what are we toasting to?"

"To letting our bygones be what they were always meant to be," I said simply.

He smiled softly and tapped his glass to mine, a clink sound filling the silence. "Let our bygones be bygones," he said.

I grinned at him and took of a sip of my wine at the same time as he.

"Wow, this is really good! What is it?"

Edward looked at me, obviously very amused, snorted loudly and announced, "I'm going to bed."

I frowned. "What was that reaction for? It is good! And I want to know what it is so I can ask for it again in the future."

"I'll tell you what it is when you're twenty-one," he said, grabbing the wine and looking at me pointedly. "I know how many bottles of wine I have and how much is in this one. Don't go trying to sneak it, all right?"

I rolled my eyes and said, "As if I would ever do that."

"Goodnight, Bella," he said and began walking away.

"Wait!" He stopped and looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "We didn't talk about money. Also, do I have the right to say, 'this is mine,' when talking about something in the house?"

Edward shrugged and began to walk away. "What's mine is yours."