Everything belongs to the lovely Stephenie Meyer.

"Edward?" I asked, still trying to catch my breath.

He didn't say anything. He stared at me, trying to catch his breath, as well. I couldn't stop staring at his bleeding lip and bruise. I hadn't meant to get him hurt.

"Why would you do that?" I asked.

He scoffed, "Did you want to die?"

I shook my head, "That's not what I meant… It's just – what were you even doing outside? Last time I'd checked, you were pretty busy."

He seemed to hesitate, "I saw you leave. I thought that… kid said something that hurt you. I just wanted to see if you were okay."

It felt like my heart fluttered. I turned away from him for a second. Just because he saved me, doesn't make him a better person. He's still the same guy. This shouldn't change how I feel about him.

When I turned back, he looked concerned and asked, "Are you okay?"

"What?" I asked. Why was he asking that? Of course I was okay. Thanks to him.

"I'm just afraid you might go into shock any second now. How's your hand? I saw you punch that guy," he told me.

I looked down at my hand and noticed it was starting to bruise. Why was I only just starting to feel the pain from it? I looked back at him, "I'm not going to go into shock… and my hand is fine. It's just a little bruised."

"Let me drive you home," he suggested.

I glanced back at the café and he spoke again, "I'll go tell them real quick, if you want me to."

My eyes fell to the ground and I nodded, "Thanks."

He opened the passenger door to his Volvo and let me get in, reaching over me to turn the car on. His sweet smell overwhelmed me and tempted me to lean in closer to him, if possible.

He moved away from me and shut the door, hurrying to go tell Alice. I turned on his radio, but it switched over to whatever CD he had in there. A painfully familiar song began to play. Claire de Lune. They'd played it at her funeral. It had been one of her favorite songs.

I could feel the tears coming and I fumbled with different, random buttons until it turned off. I couldn't stop crying. The tears just kept coming like there'd be no end.

I looked out the window as soon as I heard the door open. I listened as he buckled his seatbelt and started to pull out of the parking lot.

I could feel his stare, "Are you crying?"

I ignored him and kept my eyes where they were. I knew I wouldn't be able to talk without having a full out breakdown.

I hadn't been expecting him to take my hand in his. I couldn't help but look down at our hands. Everything in me was screaming to pull my hand back, but I didn't. I left it there. It seemed pretty safe at the moment.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. When I answered, he continued, "I should have come sooner. I shouldn't have waited so long to go after you."

I couldn't help but let out a weak laugh at that. I felt like I had more control now, so I quietly said, "I'm the one who should be apologizing. I shouldn't have gone outside by myself. It was stupid. I didn't realize how far I'd walked until it was too late."

"It wasn't your fault. Don't say that. Those –" he paused angrily. "They shouldn't have done that. There are just some sick people out there."

It wasn't your fault. It echoed through my head. Those words. I'd heard them so many times. I pulled my hand away and a sob ripped through me painfully.

"Bella?" he sounded worried.

His voice was drowned out. I couldn't hear anything. Memories were making their way across my vision and I couldn't stop watching.

The phone rang and I reluctantly put my book down. I answered, "Hello?"

Someone cleared their throat, "Is this Isabella Swan?"

Even though they couldn't see me, I nodded, "Yes."

"I'm sorry to inform you, but your mother, Renee, was in an accident. I'm sorry, she didn't make it," he said, in a monotone voice.

The phone slipped from my hands.

The atmosphere changed and I looked around. Someone was carrying me to the couch in my living room. I looked up to see Edward. He carefully put me on the couch. Charlie wouldn't be home until tomorrow night, I remembered. Fishing trip.

"Bella?" his voice was cautious.

I swallowed hard and realized I was still crying. I wiped away the tears and forced myself to stop. I had to and I did. I masked the sadness on my face with a blank look.

"Sorry," I said.

He sat down next to me, "I have a feeling there's something you've been hiding from everyone."

I shook my head, "Like what? I'm not hiding anything."

He took in a deep breath and then let it out, "I don't know. I know there's something though. Just know I'm here for you if you need to talk to someone."

I couldn't help but let an annoyed groan escape, "I don't need to talk to anyone. I'm fine."

"No, you aren't. Maybe no one else can see it, but I've noticed something different from you from the first time I saw you," he told me. Did he really?

"I don't know what you're talking about," I told him simply.

He shook his head, "But you do. There's a reason you came to Forks, isn't there? There's more to the excuse you've been giving everyone. What happened in Phoenix? What was so bad that you decided to give up the sun?"

I couldn't stop staring at his beautiful, green eyes. He looked so determined. I knew he would find out eventually, but would it be tonight?

"Nothing," I said. "Nothing happened.

"You're lying," he told me.

I wanted to tell him everything and I hated myself for it. Wasn't I supposed to hate him? I had promised to never allow myself to have close connections with anyone. He couldn't be an exception. I wouldn't allow it. I couldn't.

I stood up and walked to the other side of the room, refusing to look at him. I was quiet, but I knew he would hear me, "Get out."

"No," he said stubbornly.

I took in a deep breath and let it out, "I mean it. Get out. We can't just suddenly be friends."

"We can become friends, though," he told me, standing and taking a step in my direction.

"Maybe I don't want to make friends," I challenged him.

"No one really wants to be alone."

"You obviously don't know me."

He took a few more slow steps towards me, "I'd like to. Why is it so hard for you to trust me?"

I scoffed, "Do you see what you do to all of those girls at school?"

He had an unfathomable expression on his face, "I could change. For you. Could we be friends then?"

I stared into his eyes, searching to see if he was telling me the truth. Would he change for someone as ordinary as me? What was the point of that? I finally answered, "I told you. I don't want to make friends here."

"Why?"

I stumbled with my answer, "I don't do well when it comes to getting close to people."

"Because someone hurt you?" he accused.

I shook my head, "Just go."

He shrugged and quoted, "If you wish it."

I nodded my head and he turned to leave. I watched him walk away. I watched him leave. As much as I wanted him to never talk to me again, I knew this wasn't the end of him. Even worse, I was happy knowing I'd see him again… even if I couldn't talk to him.

Sorry it took me so long to update. :/ Please review and tell me what you think.