AN: Apologies for skipping yesterday. Real life was just . . . yeah. So here's a bigger update than usual. :)

Chapter 7

"You have to be kidding. This can't be your first Christmas tree."

They were sitting on the couch, drinking hot chocolate and watching the lights twinkle on the tree.

"No, but it's the first Christmas tree I've ever decorated."

Bella frowned, and it made him chuckle. Of course it was hard for her to understand. She'd grown up surrounded by a loving, warm family where the grandfather made spun glass ornaments and her father liked to fish at the lake. Their upbringings couldn't be any different.

"When I was in fifth grade, we had to write a story about our favorite family Christmas traditions, and we had to read the stories aloud. I sat at my desk and listened to my classmates talk about stringing popcorn and making homemade sugar cookies."

"What did you write about?" Bella asked.

"How my sister and I were forced to sit on the couch and watch while the interior decorator placed ornaments on our tree. It was Mom's rule. She had a lot of rules."

"Every year?"

Edward nodded. "And God forbid we asked to help. The ornaments were insanely expensive. We weren't allowed to touch them. Ever."

Bella shook her head. "I can't imagine that."

"I'm glad you can't."

They sipped their drinks and continued gazing at the tree. They were snuggled—him with his arm around her shoulder and her head against his shoulder. Again, it felt natural. Comfortable.

"Can I ask a personal question?"

"Of course," he replied.

"Is that why you started drinking? Your Mom's rules?"

Edward sighed as he contemplated how to tell his story.

"As the children of Carlisle and Esme Cullen, Alice and I had a lot of expectations placed on us. Straight A's were a requirement. We also had to participate in at least one sport, play an instrument, and learn a foreign language. We had to volunteer at church and within the community, and we had to be accepted into an Ivy League college."

"Some of those don't sound so bad," Bella said.

"They weren't. I became a decent baseball pitcher and I'm classically trained on the piano. Those aren't terrible qualities, but the pressure was too much. Esme expected us to be perfect, and children just . . . aren't, you know?"

"What about Alice?"

Edward smiled fondly as he thought about his sister. "Alice plays tennis and the violin. She handled the pressure much better than I did. When I finally got accepted to Dartmouth, I found myself thousands of miles away from home with more freedom than I'd ever known."

"So you went a little wild."

"I went more than a little wild," Edward said softly. "If it was bad for me, I tried it. I tried anything once. That was my motto. During my junior year, I got busted for having a bottle of vodka in my dorm, and I was immediately expelled. Naturally, my parents were devastated and ashamed. I had to transfer back to Washington State, which is a good school but wasn't distinguished enough for my parents. They cut me off financially, and I rebelled. Hard. I managed to graduate with my degree, though."

"Surely that made them proud," Bella said.

"Not at all. My degree from WSU was worthless in the eyes of my parents. For me, it just meant freedom. I was an adult, and I could find my own job and not have to work for my father. I was hired at a management company, but by then, the addiction was strong. I lost that job, and then another. In a moment of parental compassion, my father offered me a job at his insurance company. I'm a decent salesman, so it was a no-brainer. Booze is expensive, after all. I'd blow off clients. Miss meetings. Alice covered for me. She knew my drinking was out of control. My parents knew, too, but they were eager to believe her lies. And mine. It wasn't until the accident . . ."

Edward's voice trailed off as his arm tightened around her.

"Your bottom," Bella whispered.

"Yeah."

She sighed softly and snuggled a little closer against his side. "The guilt eats at you, I can tell. Do you discuss that with anyone?"

"I have an expensive shrink who is constantly telling me it's time to let it go. He likes to call the accident a blessing, and if I'd been the only one injured, I would agree with him. But I wasn't. I nearly killed my sister, and I just don't believe I should be forgiven for that. But, I'm trying. AA has helped me focus, and I've been sober for over a year. I'm good at my job. My relationship with my parents is still strained, but it's always been strained, so . . ."

They grew silent then. After a while, Edward placed their empty mugs on the end table and wrapped both arms around her.

"So, what about you? Why did you begin drinking?"

She placed her hand against his chest, letting her fingers toy with the fabric of his shirt.

"The death of my grandparents," she said, her voice soft and filled with emotion. "Gram had cancer. She died in October, and my grandfather was gone by Thanksgiving."

"The same year?"

Bella nodded. "The doctor said he died of natural causes, but I know better. He died of a broken heart."

Edward pressed his lips against her hair. "I'm sorry."

"I didn't handle it well. My dad is a great dad, but my grandparents basically raised me. We were so close. Dad was dealing with his own grief, but men tend to sweep their misery under the proverbial rug. He hated coming home, because the inn reminded him of his parents, so he worked. A lot. And for the first time, I was left alone. I started going out. Made a bunch of friends who weren't the best of influences. I was lonesome and sad, and alcohol had this great ability to make all of that go away . . . at least for a while. I was functional, though. Jake and I started dating, and that was okay for a little while. Then we got engaged, and married was the last thing I wanted to be, so that just made me drink more. When Dad gave me the inn, I knew I had to focus, but it was hard. I was already so lost in my addiction. Dad knew, and he begged me to go to rehab. It took nearly burning down the only thing I loved to make me finally reach out for help."

"And you did," Edward said.

Bella nodded. "I did. There isn't a day goes by that I don't want a drink, but I can control it now. I also know that I can't slip. Not even a sip of eggnog at a Christmas party, unless it's my own party and I make it myself."

"And the inn is profitable?" he asked. "I'm sorry, that's none of my business. I'm honestly just curious."

She smiled. "I don't mind, and yes, we're profitable. Business is slow now, but it always is this time of year. It'll pick up in the spring, and summer and fall are always hectic. I actually look forward to this time of year. It allows me to really get my inventory in order for the new year and to take care of any maintenance issues that might disrupt my guests' stay. There's a section of the porch that needs repaired. I have a crew coming right after Christmas to take care of that. That isn't a repair that can wait until spring. Guests don't like to be awakened by noisy construction workers and constant hammering."

Edward grinned. "Well, waking up to the smell of bacon was very nice."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yep."

"So, I trust you're enjoying your stay? I like happy guests."

"I've never been happier, Bella."

Their eyes met as his honest words hung in the air.

"Why is this so easy?" she whispered, lacing her fingers through his. "You. Me. This. We've known each other less than twenty-four hours, and look at us."

"I know." He lifted his hand, softly cupping her face. "I don't have any answers, Bella. All I know is that, for the first time in maybe forever, I'm happy. And I'm not used to being happy."

"I'm happy, too. And I feel safe with you. I haven't felt safe in a very long time. But I'm scared, too."

He gently brushed his forehead against hers.

"What are you afraid of?"

Bella leaned into his touch as he stroked her cheek.

"I'm afraid of what will happen when the snow melts," she said.