Chapter Twenty-Three Notes: I listened to the song "Slow Show" by this fantastic band, The National, on infinite repeat while writing this chapter, so you can thank them for this coming out a day or two faster than usual. The responses to the last chapter were so amazing, especially the love for Mall Madness. Thanks for supporting IVO, especially now, 23 chapters in. And please don't be pissed if everything you want to happen doesn't go down in this chapter; I hope you can just enjoy the ride.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: Supernatural

He'd moved my car with a single hand, dragging me out from underneath with the other. Humans just don't do that. He had to be…something else. Something better. Of course.

I think I had always known. Edward was too interesting, too wise, too beautiful, too good not just for the likes of me but for any girl. But in that moment, he was holding me against his body like I was everything to him. He stared down at me, panicked as if he were about to lose something precious.

I had just asked him what he was, and he studied me with terrified, wide eyes…but he still cradled me closely as if I belonged to him.

I realized then that all he had to do was ask, and I would.

Although he wore an expression of almost reluctance, his smooth, cold fingertips started moving in slow strokes against my cheekbones while I laid still in his arms, not wanting to move for fear that he'd let me go. Finally, Edward swallowed and pleaded, "I need you to trust me."

I was in a trance, my head aching, my heart flying. "I trust you completely."

The rest of him was motionless as something just under the surface of his face flickered and then softened. I'd seen him do that before, and I knew what would happen next. Like clockwork, his vulnerability only lasted for a split second before he buried it behind a hard, nearly hostile expression. Suddenly, his hands flew from my skin, and he'd moved me away from his body so that he now supported my weight with only his forearms. He no longer made eye contact, staring out into the dark wilderness past where we crouched alongside the highway as he whispered, "Close your eyes."

Instinctively, I ran my tongue over my lips. I'd never wanted to be kissed by anyone more than I did in that single moment. He'd saved my life, but that had nothing to do with the urge I felt to wrap myself around him and tell him I wanted him, regardless of whatever he was and what he was hiding. My eyes closed, and I waited for my long-suppressed dream to become reality...but I never woke up, and it remained a secret, unrequited fantasy.

Instead, I felt him lift me, followed by frigid, rushing air. It felt like we were moving quickly, but I didn't open my eyes. He'd asked me to keep them shut, and I didn't dare do anything to make him believe I didn't trust him.

I fumbled in my own self-induced blindness as I reached my arms around his neck. My head felt funny, so I used my disoriented state as an excuse to act out my wildest impulses. After I'd gripped onto his body with my fingers pressed against the tight muscles of his neck, I rested my head against his chest. His only reaction was a sharp intake of breath. With my eyes closed, pressed against him, consciousness drifted away.

When I woke up, the feeling of chilled leather under my palms told me I was sitting in his car. Something cold covered my hand, and when I lifted my eyelids, I saw it was his hand.

"Bella?"

"Mmmm."

"Isabella, talk to me. You cannot go back to sleep. Do you understand?"

Behind my forehead, I felt a distinct, unrelenting throbbing, but I also was at peace—he was still touching me.

Blinking slowly, I attempted to get a grasp on my surroundings, beyond the front passenger seat of the Volvo. "Where…?"

It looked like we were around the corner from the gas station, in the parking lot where the old Rite Aid used to be. The passenger door was open, and Edward was bent down on the asphalt, leaning over my seat. "I'm going to take you to the hospital, but you have to stay awake."

I was exhausted. Shutting my eyes again, I murmured, "I'll get up in just a second, promise."

"No." His voice was forceful and serious, but he was gentle as he shook my arm. "Wake up. Please, you have to stay conscious. I think you hit your head pretty hard back there, and I know you have a concussion."

I tried to scoff at him, but I was too dizzy to put much emphasis behind the whimper that came out of my mouth. Without opening my eyes, I furrowed my brow and inquired, "How do you know that?"

"You passed out for a minute or two, and you're acting very bizarre."

"Mmm…bizarre how?" I peeked at him through my eyelashes.

He bit his lip, looking younger and shier than I'd ever seen him. "It's nothing—never mind." In an instant, he was in control again, confident and authoritative. "I cannot get behind the wheel until I know you aren't going to pass out on me again. Am I clear?"

"Yeah," I sounded weak, and I wished I didn't feel like I'd gone days without sleep because I wanted to hold onto this moment with him as long as I could.

Edward studied me skeptically before he ran around to the driver's side, jumped in, and twisted his key in the ignition. "I'm trusting you, Bella. Stay with me."

Except for the glow coming off the dashboard, it was dark inside the Volvo, and I felt so calm…I wanted sleep. "I…can't," I muttered, already beginning to doze off against my will.

"Hey!" Urgently, he reached across the console to snap his fingers in front of my face before grabbing my hand. "Talk to me, alright? Just keep speaking so you'll stay awake."

Our intertwined hands now rested in my lap. Consciousness came with the prize of feeling him, so I fought off the drowsiness with everything I had.

Suddenly, I remembered a topic of conversation that would stave off my inexplicable light-headedness. "You saved me. I remember…you flipped over my truck…like you were the Incredible Hulk or something."

"You have a concussion, Bella, I really don't think you—"

"Don't treat me like I'm some brain-damaged idiot. I know what happened." I mustered up all the energy I could and turned my head on its side so I could face him. "You asked me if I trusted you. Remember? Well, I do…I feel like I can trust you with anything. And if you wanted to know something, anything at all, I'd tell you because you're real and honest and you just always understand where I'm coming from and who I am…and I really love…that about you." He was still holding my hand, and I brushed my thumb over his knuckles. "Please, trust me. Whatever it is, Edward, you can trust me."

He took his hand back and placed it on the steering wheel. "You don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about," he sneered bitterly.

I was sick of people telling me that. "Then why don't you tell me?"

"There's nothing to tell."

Without even realizing, I'd started to cry for a record third time in a single day. "Stop running away from me. You and I—we're friends, right?" I cringed at my mischaracterization but kept going, not really planning what to say but knowing I'd babble on forever if it meant preventing him from tuning me out. "Tonight was possibly the worst night of my life…I had this horrible fight with Jake where he acted like an asshole and I acted like an even bigger asshole, my tire goes flat in the middle of nowhere, I almost die, and now we're going to the hospital where I will most likely end up spending the night alone in one of those dark rooms where God only knows how many people have died in the very bed I'm sleeping in." I shivered but maintained my focus. "But, the thing is, none of that really matters because—"I sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a rush—"you're here with me now, and whenever you're around, I always feel…alright."

"Alright" was not the correct word. "Amazing," "whole," "alive"—any of those fit perfectly, but he was already freaked out enough that I'd discovered his secret superpower, so I couldn't risk anything else.

Sometime amidst my incoherent yammering, we'd reached the hospital. Neither of us moved to get out the car, which I found odd considering how Edward kept looking at me like I might keel over and die at any second.

"We have to go in," he announced as if talking to himself just as much as to me. He tore open his door, and just as I reached for the handle on mine, he was there, reaching in, unfastening my seat belt, and pulling me into his arms.

I was thrilled until I saw he was again holding me as far away as possible.

"I can walk, you know."

He ignored me and kept heading toward the entrance.

As we reached the sliding doors that led to the ER, he finally peered down at me, albeit just out of the corners of his eyes. He looked tortured as he pleaded, "Bella, I need you not to tell anyone what you think you saw."

"'What I think I saw?' Edward, I—"

"I'm begging you." He turned the full power of his stare on me, and his eyes melted me, leaving no room for debate. "Please."

I nodded. "Of course." I couldn't ever deny Edward anything he asked of me, and even if I did share my story with anyone, they'd think I was insane.

Mrs. Stanley was behind the front desk, meaning Jessica and therefore the entire town would soon know of my misfortune. "Oh my goodness, is she—"

Not bothering with polite courtesies, Edward dully began, "Is my father—"

Dr. Cullen appeared in the lobby before Edward could finish his sentence. Neither looked surprised to see each other.

"Exam room four, Edward."

Without another word, Edward hauled me down to a door near the end of the hall, opened it singlehandedly while balancing me with the other, and rushed me inside. Dr. Cullen followed, shutting the door behind him immediately.

Without hesitating, Dr. Cullen was flashing a light into my irises. "How long has it been?"

Edward stood at the side of the exam table but kept his distance from me. "Twenty minutes, roughly. We would have arrived sooner, but she was having difficulty staying conscious and I had to work to keep her awake."

Dr. Cullen turned to me. "Can you tell me what you remember? What exactly hit you, Bella?"

Edward, now pacing back and forth, cut me off before I could get a word in. "She couldn't tell me. I can only imagine it was something from the underside of that truck." He spoke about the Chevy like it was a villainous human being.

"Nothing hit me. I was just pinned and—" I broke off, not wanted to say too much; I didn't know if I had to keep Edward's secret, superhuman strength from his own father. "Nothing ever touched my head; I would've felt it."

Edward's fingers pressed against his temples. "No, Bella, you don't remember anything hitting you. That doesn't mean it didn't happen."

"But I didn't blackout, not until after you—after I was out from under the truck. Sure, I had my eyes shut for a little bit, but…"

I cringed as I recognized Edward was right, most likely. My eyes had been shut part of the time I'd waited for what I thought would be certain death. The truck kept shifting toward me, its ancient, greasy underbelly rattling down on top of me in agonizing spurts. I'd laid there feeling exhausted with my sinuses clogged from nearly an hour of relentless sobbing, and my head had been spinning from what I thought was mental exhaustion...but now I understood that it might have been worse than just depression. My stomach lurched at the idea that something was wrong with me, that I hadn't escaped the near-horrific accident unscathed.

"You're going to be fine, Bella," Edward assured me, instantly spotting my anxiety, but he was at least six feet away from where I now trembled on the exam table, so his words did nothing to calm me.

There were going to be tests. Lots of them, all with acronyms like CT and MRI, meaning little to me beyond the fact that something in my brain was amiss that medications and rest couldn't fix. Charlie would start sneaking in my room in the middle of the night again to make sure I was still alive. Renee would call six or seven times a day just to "check in" just like she did for the three months following last January's coma. As for Jacob...I didn't know where he and I stood now, but the old Jake would fuss over me and try his best to cheer me up with his relentless good humor. Underneath, all of them would worry and handle me with kid gloves, and I again would feel weak, as if my life in their hands instead of my own.

Dr. Cullen was less brash than Dr. Gerandy, my usual go-to physician who looked at me like I was a ticking time bomb. Edward's father talked me through the paces without comparing me to a brain-damaged linebacker or a boxer who'd undergone one too many KOs. Kindly, he did his best to soften the blow that I'd have to stay overnight for observation.

Halfway through Dr. Cullen's speech, a nurse came in to tell me Charlie was on his way. I couldn't look anywhere but down; I would not let them see me cry. Edward had already seen my pathetic tears in the car. What he must think of me only made me sob harder: I was helpless and likely broken due to my own knack for catastrophe. Next to what I now knew about him, that he was even more special and indestructible than I'd originally thought, I felt more worthless than ever before.

Dr. Cullen left to prep for the first round of scans and reflexivity tests. Edward hovered awkwardly in the corner.

I wept, and he did nothing. I couldn't take it. "Just go."

Edward dropped his head down to the floor and nodded. "If that's what you want."

He started to move, so, despite my humiliation and self-doubt, I whispered, "It's not."

Finally, he was next to me, close and watching. "Then I'll stay."

I curled up into a ball on the sterile, inflexible sheet of white paper lining the table. Edward pulled up a chair and sat himself close to my head.

I hid my face in the crook of my arm, and minutes passed soundlessly until his voice shattered the silence. "I hate hospitals, too, you know."

He'd remembered what I'd told him in the car. Though he could never know how I dreaded nights in the dark, inhuman ICU where the only sound keeping me company was the faint, repetitive beeping of the heart monitor, I appreciated the sentiment.

"Thanks," I murmured. "You don't have to do that."

From under my forearm, I could see him appraising me curiously. "I'm not lying. I've never felt comfortable in them, not since my mother passed."

Of course. His parents were dead. Somehow I'd never figured that out, even though I knew he was a foster child of Dr. Cullen's. "I'm sorry."

He shifted in the hard, plastic chair and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. I rolled over on my side so that I was in the fetal position, facing him.

I breathed deeply and said, "I've spent a total of twenty nights inside this place. Most of them were last January when—well, you know…but I've never gotten used to it. I always wake up right before dawn because I have these nightmares where I'm in a full-body cast with tape or something over my mouth so I can't talk or scream or hardly even breathe. Then, I can't get back to sleep because it's just too quiet, plus it smells weird, like bleach and stale coffee. So, I start thinking about what I said before, about how many people have died exactly where I'm sleeping, possibly even on the same sheets." I stole a glance at Edward and saw him hypnotically watching me, wordlessly telling me he got it, got me, and didn't think I was crazy.

Sagely, not teasing in the least, he asked, "So you're afraid of ghosts, then? Of the supernatural?"

I saw right through him…he was trying to tell me something, and if he was supernatural, then I utterly devoid of fear. "No. Not at all."

"And you're certain about that?" he asked coldly, like he'd figured out a secret I was trying to keep from him.

"Absolutely," I responded, refusing to look away from the ineffective expression of intimidation on his face. Nothing he did with his features could ever chase me away. Gaining strength, I bent my elbow on the pillow and propped up my head. "Thinking about all those dead people doesn't scare me at all; it just depresses me because they died here, alone and powerless in this sterile, impersonal void where patients are treated like science experiments instead of people."

He leaned against the back of the chair and stared unapologetically into my eyes. "I understand, Bella, more than you could ever know." He didn't continue, causing me to sigh in frustration.

"Tell me why, Edward." The confidence in my own voice surprised me, though it shouldn't have; every once in awhile, he brought out this amazing, courageous version of me that I'd never known existed.

Edward narrowed his eyes before unexpectedly opening them wide, honesty emanating from his face as he absentmindedly clasped his hands together on his lap. "My parents died a long while ago, within the span of a few days of each other." He spoke softly, lost in his thoughts, unconsciously letting me into his head. "The last memory I have of my mother is her lying in a hospital bed, helpless and dying. It's hard for me, even now, to sit in one of these rooms and not see her face as she told me not to worry, that everything would turn out as it should." He turned to me suddenly, as if remembering that I could hear him.

"Maybe it still will."

"No," he responded, his gaze fixated on my face, "it won't. My parents are gone, and I can't go back to that life or have any of the things my mother wanted for me."

Bravery pushed me to smile soothingly at him. Gently, I challenged him. "Now look who's afraid."

Shaken from his trance, he gripped his hands together tightly and locked his jaw. "You're concussed, Bella. You can't possibly fathom—"

The sound of sudden movement in the hallway captured our attention. I saw Charlie conferring with Dr. Cullen through the glass window on the opposite wall. Edward stood, quickly walking to the door.

He was leaving me.

Dejected, I asked, "Where are you going?"

"The people you care about are coming for you, Bella." He reached for the doorknob, resigned. "You'll be fine now."

Then he was gone.

I understood immediately what he'd meant by "people." Just beyond Charlie and Dr. Cullen, Jacob rushed by, jerking open the door and falling to my side.

"Bells, baby, I am so sorry. For everything. I can't believe I let you drive away on that tire. This is my fault. I should have never—"

"Stop, Jake." I ran my fingers through his hair, which was windswept of matted; Jake always drove with the windows down when he was tired in order to keep himself alert. Seeing him on his knees before me, I didn't want to coddle him; he deserved better, or at least part of the truth. "Edward Cullen saved my life tonight. Did you know that?"

"Yeah. Your dad told me when I got here a few minutes ago." He didn't demand any information from me; instead, he merely stroked my arm and planted feathery kisses on my forehead. I always knew Jacob understood the girl I used to be better than anyone, but I'd failed to see how he'd also come to understand parts of the person I was becoming. He didn't press me to explain what happened because he knew that for whatever reason, I didn't want to tell him. Jake chose his battles wisely, knowing that there were much more important questions he wanted answered.

The hostility from earlier faded, but we were still fatigued from all of our pretending. "Jake," I asked carefully, warding off the urge to curl up into a tight ball and pass out, "can I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything." I could smell his breath as he rested his forehead against mine. The warmth from his skin overwhelmed me; he felt like home, but home wasn't necessarily a place I wanted to be anymore.

"Are you happy?"

Knowing what I was getting at, he replied, "No, but I will be."

I freed a knot from his hair with my fingers. "What do you mean?"

"Look, I'm not going to lie; things between us have been pretty, um, not great lately. But I love you, Bells, and I'd rather be miserable with you than miserable without you." He moved his face back from mine and patted my arm. "We'll get through this."

I gripped the side of the exam table. "You don't know that."

His face fell a little when he saw I wasn't as confident as he was trying to be. Fearfully, he took in a staggered breath and incredulously asked, "You're not sure about us anymore?"

Falling back against the pillow, I admitted, "Jake, I'm not sure about anything right now, but mostly I don't know what's happening to me. The things that used to make sense don't anymore. I don't even know what's right and what's wrong, if I'm being selfish by wanting...certain things or if I'm being brave for recognizing that this whole other world exists and that maybe there's more to life that just--"

"That just me? Than us?" Jacob moved to my side, his expression flashing back and forth between anguish and anger.

"No, that's not–"

"Bella," my name rolled off his tongue as if it tasted bitter, "is there someone else?"

I told him the truth, but nothing more than he needed to know. I couldn't hurt him over some ridiculous fantasy that would never materialize in reality. "I'm not cheating on you, Jake. I would never do that." No, what I'm doing–what I'm feeling—is far worse.

"You didn't answer my question." He ripped slits in the thin cover of the exam table as he spat out his words.

"What exactly are you getting at?" I was going to make him say it. Someone had to, and if he wasn't even sure what he was talking about, I was not going to hurt him unnecessarily.

"Edward Cullen, Bella. He's saved your life twice, and you tore my father to pieces in order to defend him."

"I've told you: we're friends."

He scoffed. "Apparently."

"It's not like that, Jake." And really, it wasn't. "What Edward and I are–it will never go past friendship, I swear it."

Jacob wasn't convinced. He stood and kicked the chair where Edward had sat moments earlier. Its aluminum legs wobbled against the tile floor, creating a ringing in my ears.

I wanted to stand with Jacob and shake some sense into him, except I was too dizzy to rise to my feet and didn't have any sense of my own left to share. Instead, I practically shouted, "Look at him, and then look at me! He and I do not belong together. Even if we were the last two people on Earth, it wouldn't make any sense for him to be with me." I lowered my voice, saying to Jake as much as to myself, "So you don't have to worry about anything happening between Edward and me. We're friends, nothing more."

All Jake had to do was ask the right question, and he'd fit together the puzzle of my recent despondent behavior. One question, and he'd know the complete truth, that despite Edward feeling only platonic appreciation for me, I was irreversibly in love with him. But Jake didn't ask, probably because such a question was unthinkable; how could I, the girl who'd loved him unconditionally, trade something so real and pure for a one-sided love could only end in loneliness? Jake loved me too much to ever think me capable of such treachery.

His loyalty was misplaced, of course, but coming clean meant hurting him beyond repair. I wasn't sure if I could ever destroy him like that, casting him aside just because he was no longer enough, because I'd fallen for someone else who'd unknowingly taught me magical, passionate love really did exist. Keeping my love for Edward from Jacob didn't really feel selfish anymore; instead, I did it for Jake, not for myself, to protect him from the pain I kept buried inside; I, and I alone, would bear the brunt of knowing I loved Jacob but never truly was in love with him. I wouldn't break his heart just so I could pine away in solitude for Edward, someone who would never return the feelings I had for him. Jake felt for me what I felt for Edward, and I couldn't allow my Jacob, my best friend, to feel the debilitating pain of rejection, a feeling I now knew far too well.

Still...I wondered if Jake could find someone better, someone who deserved him. It was possible that a girl out there would love him just as much as he loved me now, and that by preventing him from feeling pain, I was also keeping him from feeling mutual, unbridled passion.

In the end, I couldn't decide what was right.

Outside the door, Dr. Cullen and Charlie were still talking, likely going over the intricate details of my mammoth medical history.

I reached for Jake's hand, and because he was Jake, he let me have it. "I don't know what I'm doing."

He'd calmed down a bit, but the hurt was still evident in his hunched posture. "I'm going to give you the time you need, Bella. Because I love you. Because I know that you love me, too." I swallowed hard and held my arms against my chest as he continued, "These accidents keep happening, but they always make me appreciate us more, what we have. I won't let you slip away from me. I almost lost you today, and it won't happen again."

He nodded to himself, an act of finality signaling he'd said his peace. He hovered over me and kissed me softly. I wondered if he could taste the salt from my now-dried tears.

"I'll wait outside while they run those tests on you," I almost smiled at how he knew the routine so well, "but when they assign you a room, I'm crashing at your side. No worries, okay?"

"Jake, it's almost one in the morning. Go home. Go to bed."

"No, really–"

"I insist. I'll feel awful if you stay." It was true, though not just because he'd get a crick in his neck and a terrible night's sleep. As much as I feared being alone in my hospital room, with Jake at my side, I'd feel just as empty as I would if I were the only person left in the entire building.

He rolled his eyes and planted another kiss on my lips. "I'm going to miss the sleep talking, though."

"Please, Jake, you know better than that. As soon as I get some painkillers in me, I'm a regular, unconscious mute."

He grinned, his first of the evening. "That's right, I forgot. At least I'm not missing out, I guess." The things I likely said in my sleep these days would have ruined us both, but thankfully, I hadn't fallen asleep in front of Jake in weeks.

Jake's grin vanished, and he grew serious. "You're going to call me the minute you get home tomorrow." He hung his head, his confidence waning. "Just so I know you're okay. We don't have to talk about anything if you don't want to."

I nodded and gave him the faintest of smiles. I knew for a fact our conversation would only last for several seconds, as there was nothing I wanted to tell him.

X X X

After Jacob left, I endured another hour of poking, prodding, and scanning from various types of the latest medical technology. At 2AM, Dr. Cullen finally told me I could go to sleep. Charlie vowed to crash in the waiting room if I needed anything, but I convinced him I was well-versed in hospital slumber; I hated to think of my father needlessly miserable, since his presence wouldn't remotely aid in keeping my own fears at bay.

One of the nurses gave me something to dull the ache building under my skull, and I fell anxiously into a superficial sleep.

Predictably, it didn't last, and two hours later, I woke with a start. My heart felt heavy in my chest as I recognized the familiar hollowness, the smell of cleaning products wafting through my nose and creating nervous knots in the pit of my stomach. Quietly, the weight of the day's events fell upon me, and I started to weep silently.

"Don't cry, Bella. You're fine; there's nothing to be upset about."

"Jesus!" I yelped, practically choking on my tears and realizing for the first time that I was not alone. Across the room, Edward sat in corner, his face barely visible in the shadows.

He stood and approached the door. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't be here."

"No!" For the second time that evening, I couldn't let him walk away. "Stay."

I motioned for him to move the chair he'd been sitting in closer. "What are you doing here?" Relief made me smile like a lunatic, but I didn't care.

He traced a crack in the tile with his foot. "I knew you didn't want to be alone, and I'm not one for sleeping, so..."

"I'm glad you're here," I muttered shyly. Refusing to think of what I was doing, I reached out to touch his arm, but he jerked it to his lap, beyond my grasp.

His face went cold. "Bella, I need to discuss something with you."

My heart stalled in my chest as I nodded for him to continue.

"About today, about...what happened." He closed his eyes and looked pained. "I don't think it's wise for us to remain friends. My life is very complicated and involving you was a mistake. Please understand–"

"I'm not going to tell anyone, Edward. I promise."

He wouldn't look at me. "Regardless, we need to put some distance between us, and I know that–"

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said no. No distance. We are friends, and friends don't push each other away because one of them has a secret identity and supernatural powers."

He scoffed. "You're assuming that I'm some sort of superhero, like a character from a comic book." He turned to face me. "But I'm not, Bella. I'm something else, something from a nightmare. Trust me, it's best that you stay as far away as possible."

I swallowed hard and adamantly went on. "No. Just tell me the truth. I know you, and I know that there's nothing bad about who you are. Please."

"Stop pretending to be so brave. You cannot possibly understand what I am. Believe me, if you could, you'd run screaming in the opposite direction. That I can promise you."

"I don't believe you." My eyes were huge as I refused to let him scare me. "I can't not have you in my life. You can't leave me alone at school; you and Alice are the best part of my day." I sat up and grabbed his arm. His skin was cool to my touch, and I realized that I'd been subconsciously missing that feeling for hours. "You've saved my life twice now, and I—we just get each other, you know? You can trust me. I won't run away from you."

He took my hand off his arm and placed it gingerly on my lap. "Yes, you will."

I grimaced and shook my head. "Try me."

Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. "It's not my place. This is beyond just you and me." He sighed again. "I'm sorry."

We sat in silence for at least twenty minutes. I didn't want to say a word for fear that he'd leave me again. The fact that he stayed and didn't abandon me gave me hope that he'd forget all about his vow to tear us apart. Being so close to him put me at peace. Before I could slip into unconsciousness, I turned my head so that I could see every inch of his face. "Edward?"

"Bella," he answered, his tone flat, likely worried that I was going to try to force his secret out of him.

"I'm not going to ask you anymore, but I am going to find out what you are."

He spoke in an uncharacteristically small voice. "I really wish you wouldn't."

I ignored him. "And when I do find out, it's not going to matter."