Chapter 7: "The Explanation"

Disclaimer: The proprietary elements of Breaking Dawn, including its original treatment and all of the characters, belong solely to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

Bella's POV

"It happened during the final hours of your transformation," Edward began slowly, never taking his eyes from my face, as if any one of his words might inadvertently tip the teetering scale of my control and push me over the proverbial edge.

"Go on, I'm fine," I assured him—hoping, in truth, that I could handle whatever was coming. Edward reached forward and put his hands on my shoulders.

"I couldn't leave your side, Bella. Not even for a moment," he whispered. "You were in so much pain. I was consumed by it myself. I heard nothing but your agonized cries, your screams pleading for the end. I was focused solely on the erratic beat of your heart when…" he cringed, momentarily unable to continue.

I waited, fighting back the panic.

"I allowed this to happen," he finally said in a disgusted tone, dropping his hands and looking away from me.

"Edward, I don't understand."

"It's no excuse, of course. There is no excuse." Edward raised his head to look at me and the intense self-loathing in his eyes was almost more than I could bear. "Elizabeth is gone because I wasn't listening. I didn't hear their thoughts as they approached the house. I didn't even know they had entered her room," he hissed. "It's my fault, Bella. I am… more sorry than I can tell you."

"Son, don't blame yourself," Carlisle said, stepping forward. "If I hadn't sent Rosalie and Emmett to scout an area for Bella's first hunt, if I hadn't suggested that Esme slip out to hunt herself—thinking that she would be the one to stay behind while the rest of us hunted with Bella—if I hadn't made that last run to the hospital for additional supplies to ease Bella's suffering towards the end, Elizabeth would not have been left alone down the hall. She would not have been taken from her bassinet as she slept near the open window."

Edward and I shuddered simultaneously.

My hands balled into fists at my side. I wanted to hit something. Sensing my distress, Edward took my hands in his and gently began smoothing my fingers.

"I'll take care of this, Bella. I promise you that."

"Who has Elizabeth? Where is she now?" I was surprised that my voice sounded more like a growl.

Edward took a deep breath, then spoke rapidly as he always did when he was anxious. I had no problem keeping up.

"When Alice called from Paris two days ago, having seen that Caius and Felix were already en route to the United States on a mission to determine whether or not we'd kept our side of the bargain (regarding your mortality), I instructed her to inform the guard in Volterra that the change was taking place. I knew she wouldn't be able to contact Caius or Felix directly, especially if they were in the air, but I expected that she'd be able to reach Aro, and he would call them back. There would be no reason for them to continue on to Forks. That should have been the end of it. I didn't anticipate that Alice would hop on an airplane herself. Characteristically unthinking (but in a courageous effort to ensure that there would be no mistake about the validity of our message), she dragged Jasper onto a jumper flight headed for Volterra, intending to speak with Aro face to face. Unfortunately, shortly after they arrived, Jasper lost his temper when confronted with the callousness of the guard, and the only way out of what quickly became a very sticky situation was for Alice to allow Aro to see her mind. You remember how it's done—just one touch. And with his powerful mind-reading gift, he was again privy to every thought her mind had ever held. Including what had happened since our last visit."

"The wedding. Elizabeth's birth…" I choked.

"Yes," he continued. "And after that, as you can imagine, all hell broke loose. I saw in Alice's thoughts that Jane—no surprise—was the first to take the floor, speaking dispassionately (though persuasively) of the devastation caused by the plague of the immortal children; she likened Elizabeth to the vampires created by the ancient ones from humans who were barely more than infants. Next, Caius took it upon himself to remind the entire company that these young ones had been unstable, insatiable, and utterly incapable of protecting our secret. He put those enamored by and protective of such creatures into the same category. The Cullens, he submitted (in no uncertain terms), were now an official threat. Aro wasn't comfortable with launching a full-scale assault against us, but he was fascinated to the point of intrusive curiosity; he desired to see the child for himself and, at the very least, determine what special powers she might possess. When Alice and Jasper informed him that bringing Elizabeth to Volterra would be out of the question—because I would never allow it—Caius and Felix suggested that she be "borrowed temporarily." Given little choice in the matter, Alice and Jasper chose to remain in Volterra and be there to receive Elizabeth when she was brought to Italy. Aro promised that if she and Jasper "cooperated," Elizabeth would not be harmed during transport.

"And after she arrives? What then?" I panted, barely controlling the panic now.

Edward put both hands on my shoulders and waited.

"That's why Carlisle and I must leave. Now. We'll bring her home, Bella. Trust me."

"I do. But let me help. I-I'm strong enough," I tried, knowing before the words were out that it would be no use.

"That really wouldn't be helpful," Carlisle explained. "Especially under the current circumstances. This is not a hunt, Bella. Instinct alone would not serve you well in Volterra. And if, heaven forbid, things should escalate beyond a battle of wits, you would most certainly be harmed," he paused as Edward hissed. "Or Edward would be," Carlisle continued confidently, "trying to protect you."

Of course, Carlisle's logic was unassailable. We all knew he was right.

"I'll call you when we arrive," Edward whispered, kissing my forehead tenderly.

Without thinking, I threw my arms around him. Carlisle flinched, then relaxed as he studied my expression.

It was like there was no movement. One moment I stood straight and still as a statue; in the same instant, Edward was in my arms. Warm—or at least, that was my perception. With the sweet, delicious scent I'd never been able to really take in with my dull human senses, but that was one hundred percent Edward. I pressed my face into his smooth chest, refusing to let him go.

He shifted his weight uncomfortably. Leaned away from my embrace. I stared up at his face, confused and frightened.

"Carefully, Bella. You are quite strong," he muttered.

"Oops," I mouthed, expecting the tears to overflow my eyes at any time. But they never came.

He pressed his lips together and smiled the kind of smile that would have stopped my heart if it were still beating.

"Don't worry, love," he said, lifting his hand to touch my lips, parted and trembling. "We'll all be together again soon."

My eyebrows pushed together. How could he be so certain? The possibility of losing Edward and Elizabeth now, when eternity stretched before me like a moonless night, felt more real than any other part of this ultimately surreal moment.

His hand stroked my cheek again, and I all but forgot my distress as another wave of desire rippled through my motionless body. These emotions were so much stronger than I was used to that it was hard to stick to one train of thought despite the extra room in my head. Each new sensation overwhelmed me. I remembered Edward saying once—his voice in my head a weak shadow compared to the crystal, musical clarity I was hearing now—that his kind, our kind, were easily distracted. I could see why.

I made a concerted effort to focus as Carlisle turned for the door, very subtly giving us some privacy. Carefully, so carefully that the movement was actually discernable, I raised my hand to touch Edward's cheek. I refused to let myself be sidetracked by the pearly color of my hand or by the smooth silk of his skin or by the electric charge in my fingertips.

I stared into his eyes and heard my own clear voice ring out, shimmering like a bell, "I love you, Edward Cullen."

His answering smile dazzled me more than it ever had when I was human; I could really see it now.

"As I love you, Isabella Cullen," he told me.

He took my face between his hands and leaned his face to mine—slow enough to remind me to be careful. He kissed me, soft as a whisper at first, and then suddenly stronger, fiercer. I tried to remember to be gentle with him, but it was hard work to remember anything in the onslaught of sensation, hard to hold on to any coherent thoughts.

It was like he'd never kissed me—like this was our first kiss. And, in truth, he'd never kissed me this way before. Then came the staggering realization that it might also be our last.

Though I didn't need oxygen, my breathing sped—raced as fast as it had when I was burning. But this was a different kind of fire. A different kind of pain.

I closed my eyes, and Edward was gone.