Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. I do, however, own way too many dogs.

Chapter Two

Drifting in haze of comfort, I slowly regained conscious. Instead of opening my eyes, I smiled without thinking and burrowed deeper into the sweet smelling pillows. It was peaceful and quiet, with the sun shining from the window. Something, like a forgotten dream trying to be remembered, struggled to break into my thoughts. The previous day flooded back into my awareness all at once.

I gasped and sat up so fast it made my head spin. I scanned the room, and to my immense relief, it was empty. Edward's side of the bed was empty, with a large indentation where he had slept. What was I going to say? It was humiliating, to say the least, that I had fallen to pieces like that. Now, in broad daylight, I was fine. But still, the thought of tonight sent chills down my spine. I shuddered, wondering just how angry Edward might be.

I contemplated that. Maybe he wasn't that angry- he had just let me sleep last night. But then the image of his face, and the way he'd grabbed me crossed my mind again. There was no way I could forget that.

Even as I thought this over, the door swung open. I pulled the covers back over myself, feeling self-conscious. Somehow, being surrounded by the blanket gave me an odd sense of security. I traced the shadows cast along the wall with my eyes so I wouldn't have to look at Edward. I suddenly realized I'd subconsciously stopped thinking of him as Lord Edward or just 'my husband' as I had taken to calling him in my mind. Before I could think about that, he sat down on the bed across from where I was curled up. While I was still wearing what I slept in, Edward had on fresh clothes, which meant he'd been up a lot longer than me.

He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. I needed him to understand that my hysteria hadn't been intentional and wouldn't happen again. "I'm sorry. You must be so angry." I began, still unable to meet his eyes.

"Sorry? Isabella, I understand you weren't prepared for this. I'm going to give you the time and space to adjust. You're too young to be married."

I gaped openly at him, unprepared for this reaction to my words. He was still speaking, eyes intent upon my face as though he could make me listen to him by the sheer strength of his gaze.

"And I'm not angry," he continued. "I'm furious-just not at you."

Who was he furious at then? My parents, perhaps, for giving him a useless bride?

"You did nothing wrong but be born to the wrong family. And I hurt you." At this last statement, my breathing became very shallow. Edward watched me carefully, like I was a wild animal about to bolt.

Slowly, he leaned forward and extended his hand. I stared at it, uncomprehending.

"Can I see your arm? I want to see what I did to you. I want you to know I really didn't mean to hurt you."

At this admission, I put my arm out to him, trying not to betray the fact that I was shaking-whether from relief or surprise, I didn't know. He hadn't meant to hurt me. He was going to give me space. He was worried about me, as if he really cared. And maybe he did. Maybe I would be lucky enough to have a good man for a husband. That was better than having an abusive one, and would ease the stinging disappointment that had followed the realization that I wouldn't have my fairy tale love.

Edward's cool fingers wrapped around my wrist, jolting me from my reverie. I watched as he carefully inspected the skin from my wrist to my elbow. His face hardened, and he inhaled sharply as I noticed what he saw. Small purplish bruises ringed my skin where he had held it last night. His frown deepened as he touched them and I flinched, surprised by the sudden pain. How strong was he, to have bruised me while only holding me in place? I was nearly as shocked as he was, but for once I handled it better than him. "They'll go away soon, I guess." I mumbled, trying to downplay it.

"They shouldn't be here in the first place!" he snapped. I remained silent, because I had no reply to that. He was visibly upset. The hand that held my wrist slackened, and I pulled it free. He still hadn't added anything else when he got up and strode from the room. He vanished from view then reappeared, this time holding a tray.

"Here. I'm guessing you're still tired and don't want to get up yet." He handed me the tray, which I saw held an assortment of warm bread, jelly, and fruit. I accepted it gratefully. His guess was right on the mark; I didn't want to get up yet, but I still wanted to eat something.

There was an awkward pause, because I wasn't sure if he wanted any, and he made no move to leave the room. After a moment he turned away and dragged a chair out from under the huge mahogany desk in one corner of the room. He took his place and began ruffling through some papers without even looking at me. I waited for another minute, and then began to eagerly eat as much as I could; I hadn't eaten at all the day before due to nerves, and it was obviously already late in the morning because I'd overslept.

My full belly combined with a body that had endured too much mental and emotional stress in the space of a few painful days was enough to knock me out as soon as I'd finished. I no longer cared that he was still in the room; he was trying to help me, and I was too tired to care anyway. I dropped away to the sound of a pen scratching against paper and soft breathing.

***

The day had gone by fast, spent sleeping or eating. Edward was gone when I woke up. There was fresh food on a table beside the bed, and I ate with as much hunger as before. I wondered where he was, but I had no inclination to search for him. I was just fine here, where I could try to come to terms with my new life in undisturbed peace.

By the time Edward returned, it was already dark outside once more. He knocked before he entered so I would know he was coming in.

"I'm just getting my nightclothes. I've got some here for you, too," he informed me, handing me a pale white nightdress. "I'll go into the other room to change, while you get that on," he offered without hesitation. I nodded, somewhat relieved to finally have something substantial to wear. I also appreciated the fact that he was granting me privacy to put the silky little dress on.

Edward left the room with his retrieved clothing in one hand. I changed as fast as I could, and it didn't take very long to don my nightclothes. A few minutes passed before Edward reentered our bedchamber, shirtless with long dark pants on. It was like déjà vu; he walked over and sat on his side of the bed before turning in my direction. A small grin crossed his features. He was obviously in better spirits than he had been this morning.

"Isabella, I must tell you, everyone is going to think we spent the whole of last night and today…together. I never left this wing of the house except to get food, and no one has seen us, so I believe it's safe to assume that rumors are spreading. And you know, I'm not really that inclined to do anything to stop it." His smile spread further. "But you'll be happy about that, won't you?" he asked.

I blushed, thinking of what others would be saying…and how that gossip would spread to my parents. They would believe I had fulfilled my duty, and that my husband was pleased with me. This was, in retrospect, perfect. From Edward's expression, he was just as delighted with this turn of events as I was, though I couldn't fathom why. He shouldn't be happy with this, shouldn't even be mildly accepting. And yet, he was.

But even as I watched, the look in his eyes dimmed, and he removed himself from the bed. "Where are you going?" I asked, the revelation that I wasn't going to suffer from neither my parent's nor Edward's wrath emboldening me. I could handle this now, couldn't I? Everything was slowly balancing out, becoming less awful. If I was honest with myself, it was mostly because of Edward.

"I'm going back into the sitting room. I'm sleeping in there. I only came back into here to make sure you didn't worry yourself sick over what your parents find out," he informed me, his green flashing with disdain.

It was all too much; the man standing in front of me was protecting me, from my own parents. He was trying not to hurt me, and he had taken care of me today. And now, he was giving me his own bed and leaving to sleep on a couch to give me space. I didn't have love, but I had been given something nearly as good. And I was letting that good thing walk away.

I was out of the bed with my arms around Edward's waist before he'd even taken two steps. He looked down at me in bewilderment as I sobbed into his chest. I had gone from seeming absolutely terrified of him to practically clinging to him in a matter of seconds, so I understood his confusion. He couldn't understand what this meant to me; nobody could. He hesitated before wrapping his strong arms around me, holding me to him like a child. "Please don't go. I don't want you to sleep in there. I want you to stay," I tried to say, but my voice was thick with tears and muffled by his chest. I could barely breathe, I was so choked up.

Apparently, he got the gist of what I was saying despite my incoherency, because he bent down and picked me up. Hugged tightly to his body, I was carried back to the bed and gently set back down.

"It's okay, it's fine," he whispered to me. "I'm staying. I only thought you'd be more comfortable if I slept in another room."

We rocked back and forth on the edge of the bed for a long time. He didn't say anything as I emptied myself of my seemingly endless supply of tears. I cried out all the fear I'd felt, all the overwhelming emotions I'd felt and fought for the past two days. He held me through all of it, even though he didn't really know me- or the real reasons for my tears.

At some point, I must've fallen asleep, because I felt him tug at my arms, still locked around his waist, and then blackness.

***

My eyes flickered open, and I realized I didn't even remember closing them. Images of last night-being held by Edward, my surge of emotion, nearly begging him to stay- flashed through my brain as I blinked, disoriented. I started to shift and discovered I couldn't because I was tangled up with Edward. I was mortified by own behavior. What had I done?

For all I knew, he thought I was insane. Most likely he was disgusted; I had cried like a little child, and I was displaying no control over myself, unlike his usually calm demeanor. Feeling pathetic and useless, I tried to slip through his arms again. This time, his hold on me loosened. I peeked up to see his open eyes settle on me. I gasped and pulled away. I thought about how completely appalled he had be, waking up to find me wrapped up with him when I'd made it a point to avoid physical contact.

"Isabella?" he asked. That one word was full of questions. But how to answer them? I couldn't tell him the truth about my family; that was never, ever going to happen. I was also terribly reluctant to show him just how wrecked I was by admitting how I felt: safe, because he was protecting me from my own kin. Guilty, because I was making life harder for him. Pained, because I was trapped. Fury, at myself because I couldn't control my wildly oscillating emotions around him.

For a moment I could have sworn I saw hurt flash across his face, but then it settled back into a calm, nearly expressionless mask tinted with confusion. I saw no disgust or resentment, so I settled for replying in what was probably the calmest voice he'd heard me use yet. "Yes?" I was purposely avoiding a direct response to what he wanted to know. I acted oblivious, pretending to not understand.

His eyes narrowed in irritation. I looked deliberately looked away, not wanting my face to betray me.

"Don't act as if you don't know what I mean; you're hiding something other than your fear of being with me, I can tell. But if you're not going to tell me what it is, I'll just keep upsetting you. Like last night. Are you at least going to explain that?"

He watched me with an intensity that proved he was serious; he knew, somehow, that something was wrong, and wanted an explanation for my dramatics as well. I shifted uneasily, acutely aware that I was still in close proximity with him.

I owed him a small explanation, at least. I wasn't giving up all my secrets-not even a fraction-but I resolved to tell him what I could. I sat up a little straighter, trying to exude confidence. "I don't know what you're talking about." I stated stiffly. "As for last night…I really, really don't want to discuss it."

I turned pleading eyes upward, seeking his face. He chose to ignore my look. Instead, he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"I can see that," he said dryly. "But it doesn't change a thing."

I wanted to glare at him, but I didn't have the nerve. He frustrated me, but I was so intimidated by him, I dared not act on it. As if sensing this, Edward changed tactics.

"If I was merely your friend, and not the husband that you hate, would you have told me when I asked?" he wanted to know.

My shock at his chosen words was enough to shatter the flimsy wall of defense I'd built around myself. "What? What do you mean? I don't hate you!" I sputtered, completely taken by surprise.

"But you're scared of me," he pointed out. "How else do you mean to explain your actions?" he said without pause. I would have laughed at his attempts to trick me into revealing information, if I hadn't been so stunned by his directness. "I'm not anymore." I began, taking a deep breath. "If I was still unwilling to trust you, I wouldn't even be talking to you. But you proved you're not like-" I stopped abruptly. I'd almost given something away, something terrible.

"And no," I continued, "I wouldn't tell anyone, ever. Even if you were my friend."

He contemplated that for a few minutes. I decided that he looked almost…hopeful-but for what? Something had changed between us, and I briefly wondered if that had anything to do with the expression on his face. My new-found inner strength kept me from fidgeting while I waited for Edward to say something. Eventually my patience was rewarded by a small grin.

"If you're suddenly not afraid of me anymore- and you say you're not- than we can we friends, can't we? And maybe you'll change your mind in the meantime about sharing your secret."

I snorted, making it obvious how much I believed that. The atmosphere was suddenly much lighter and less tense. "Not likely. But as for friendship…maybe. I'm not a very good friend. But you are very accommodating, so we'll see." I said, unwilling to give outright say yes or no. My opinion of him had changed dramatically in such a short time, it was unbelievable.

My response triggered a dazzling half-smile that stretched wide across Edward's face. My breathing picked up speed again…and this time it wasn't from fear. I was suddenly aware of the fact that I was still right next to him. This pricked at my mind, and I couldn't figure out why.

Then my heart stopped as his next few words registered:

"I'll take that as a yes. Now, are you ready to finally leave this room and meet my family?"

Note: Bella is realizing that Edward isn't so bad. In fact, he might even be a good thing, because he's helping her deal with her controlling and very heavy handed parents. At the first major turning point in their relationship, she makes subconciously makes the decision to trust him, even if she doesn't realize it. Also, she's never really had friends, again because of her dominating parents. She thinks she'll be bad at it, and is afraid to put faith in others.

Tell me what you think: worth continuing, or not? I'll update sooner if it looks like people are interested. Again, I've already written a lot of this in advance plus most of it in Edward's point of view, so I'll be a steady updater if I think that anyone actually wants to read more. Feel free to ask questions!