A/N: Thanks to my awesome betas! Again, I'm so sorry for the wait.
Disclaimer: All recognizable Twilight characters belong to S. Meyer. I however own "White Carpets and Wall Sconces."

"What's in Chicago?" I was still standing on the front step, staring blankly at her.

"That's where we're from," Alice said, motioning for me to come inside. "Bella, this is my mother." She gestured toward a woman with caramel coloured hair, tied in a French-twist at the nape of her neck. She was thin and elegant, and seemed much taller than she actually was. She turned around and smiled, extending a long, pale hand.

"It's a pleasure, dear," she said in a musical voice. Her smile was one of the most genuine I'd ever seen. Her full lips framing her nearly perfect teeth. The smile extended to her wide, green eyes. Green like Edward's, but not quite as dark, I realized.

"It's very nice to meet you too, Mrs. Cullen," I replied, as warmly as possible. I studied her a moment more before blurting out "I guess we know who Edward looks like," before slapping my hand over my mouth. She laughed quietly.

"It's Esme," she told me, turning back to the stove to stir whatever it was she was making. It smelled amazing whatever it was. "And he really is the odd one out, isn't he?" She smiled adoringly over at Alice. "I'm so glad to see you, darling. I've called your father to let him know Edward will be in town."

Alice smiled tightly, and I stood awkwardly to the side, wondering why I was still there, and thinking back to just a few days ago when the house felt more like home than anywhere I'd lived before.

"Will you stay for dinner, Bella?" Esme stirred the pot again and gave me a searching look. I gulped. I felt like she was looking deep inside me. Her eyes searched beyond the surface. I felt like an open book, and she was happily flipping through my pages.

"Uh, I'm…I'm not sure," I managed to stammer out. "Maybe I should just go." I started for the door, realizing what I was doing was rude but wanting to get away from the awkward situation as quickly as possible.

"Nonsense, dear. You're Alice's friend and you should stay for dinner." She smiled adoringly once more at her daughter. "Isn't that right Alice? Is Jasper coming too?"

I looked around frantically, wanting to get out of the house, away from everything that reminded me of Edward. He'd left. He obviously didn't want to reconcile. He was flying across the country. I was stupid. I was stupid to imagine he'd want to see me; that he'd wait for me. I was stupid to listen to Rosalie. I wanted away from this overly kind woman who reminded me of Edward, I wanted out of the kitchen, out of the house, I just wanted out.

"No, Jasper needs to work tonight" Alice told her mother as she stepped around her to pull a cup from the cupboard. "I'd love it if Bella stayed." I thought her voice sounded forced. "Why don't you come on up to my room Bell?" She scrubbed the cup she'd just used, just like she always did and put it back in the cupboard. She skipped lithely across the tiled floor towards the stairs. "Come on!"

I followed her, unsure what else to do, and at the top of the stairs, had to physically resist taking the right, and instead made my feet angle left toward Alice's bedroom. "Take a seat," she told me, flopping her tiny frame backwards on her very pink bedspread. I sat down awkwardly on the edge, hands clasped, eyes down. For some reason I felt like Alice was scrutinizing me.

"How have you been?" I asked politely, if not stilted. Alice snorted.

"Let's cut to the chase, Bella. Why are you here?" I couldn't believe the anger emanating from Alice; her voice was hard and pitchy. Her body language was still very relaxed though. The contrast confused me.

"I wanted to talk to Edward," I said after a long pause. I stared at my hands, clasped tightly in my lap. "I miss him."

Alice propped herself up on her elbows and stared at me, her blue eyes wide and searching, and a little bit angry. "Took you long enough," she nearly growled. "Thanks for returning my calls by the way."

I was taken aback by the condescending tone she was using. "Sorry. I was upset."

Alice rolled her eyes dramatically. "Like you were the only one. Do you not think you're being a bit selfish? My brother was flattened. It's like a part of him died."

"Because I was obviously affected so positively, right Alice?" I was starting to get a bit frustrated. Did she just invite me up here to lecture me?

"Well now he's gone. I don't know what he's thinking. Maybe you're too late." She sniffed disapprovingly. "He's heartbroken. No one should have ever made him feel like that."

I was starting to get indignant. How dare she? I opened my mouth to explain and closed it again.

"Something to say?" She stood up and went to lean against the wall. "Don't say it wasn't your fault. You were snooping." She closed her eyes and then opened them, her expression softer. "I'm sorry Bella, but you didn't see him. You didn't hear him. You didn't look after him for days while he was going crazy. I had to call my mother." She covered her cheeks with her hands and shook her head. "You have no idea what it's been like. I mean I honestly get that it's not completely your fault, it was just a huge misunderstanding, but I don't know what's going to happen. I've never seen him so upset."

The truth in Alice's words floored me. It had to have been bad if Alice called in reinforcements. If there was one thing I'd learned about Alice Cullen in the time I'd spent with her, it was that she was completely independent. Alice did not ask for help, and when offered, rarely accepted. She was a proud person. She held her head high and went about her business. It would have taken a lot for her to admit defeat and call her mother.

I dropped my head to my hands and sighed lowly. I had done that to him. I had hurt him. It was my fault. I needed to talk to him.

"I think it will be okay," Alice said quietly, coming to sit beside me. "I think he just needs time. Maybe this trip will help him work stuff out."

I glanced sideways at her and gave her a sad, half smile. "Maybe," I whispered unconvincingly.

Dinner was a tense affair. Emmett was there, with Rosalie, who refused to meet my eyes, save for the one quick glance where I saw some sort of apologetic sadness flash over her face. Alice poked at her dinner listlessly with her fork, refusing to look up from the plate, obviously still embarrassed that she'd had to call her mother at all, and obviously upset about her brother's departure. Emmett tried his best to keep the conversation rolling in true Emmett style, but only Esme was really involved. Eventually, after he'd exhausted the weather forecast and this week in politics he shut up and shoveled his food rapidly into his mouth. I answered Esme's questions as honestly as possible. No one mentioned Edward.

It wasn't until everyone had cleared out and I'd offered to help with the dishes that he came up in conversation. It was only Esme and me in the kitchen. Alice had flown the coop at the first opportunity and Rosalie and Emmett certainly never helped with dishes. We had said very little beyond polite conversation until I was drying the last pot lid. "What happened between you and Edward, Bella?" Her soft voice was curious, but sympathetic.

I took a deep breath. I supposed there was no avoiding the question. I contemplated whether it would be considered terribly rude to let the lid clatter to the floor and make a run for it. I supposed it probably would be. "I ruined a perfectly nice evening and he told me to get out," I told her in a rush.

"Edward is difficult," she mused. The sound of his name shot daggers through my heart. It happened every time I heard it, every time I said it. I felt the sting of tears smart my eyes and blinked rapidly. I could not cry in front of his mother. Esme rang out the dish cloth and began wiping the counters while I put away the last pot. "It seems like you can be equally as difficult though." She smiled over at me. I was sure I must have had a stunned expression on my face. That was a rather forward thing to say. "I don't mean it in a bad way, Bella. The only woman Edward would actually devote any time to would have to be equally as difficult and strong willed as he is. If not, he wouldn't be bothered." She rinsed the cloth and draped it on the divider between the double sink. "He told me a bit about what happened," she said softly. "There are things about Edward that you don't know. That you don't understand, and that you may never understand. Something terrible happened to Edward before he moved here. It has haunted him ever since. If you feel strongly for him, please Bella, give him some time to sort out his demons." She nodded at me to signal the end of the conversation and headed out of the room. She paused at the door and looked back at me, still standing in the middle of the kitchen looking shocked. "It was very nice to get to know you, Bella."

Edward's Point of View

I really disliked planes. I really disliked park-n-fly shuttles, and I reallydisliked planes. I hated stewardesses and I hated the business men that sat around yakking on their blackberries like the world depended on them. The food sucked. I scowled at the fat, middle aged man beside me having some pretentious conversation on his stupid blackberry. I thought you weren't really supposed to use phones on planes? He seemed to say things like "Now see here," and "I understand we are in the middle of a recession, however that is not an excuse," an awful lot. I crossed my arms, and turned my iPod up, hoping to drown him out as I closed my eyes and tried to catch some sleep. I must have finally dozed off, because the flight didn't seem to take nearly as long as I imagined it would. Too soon almost, it was time to fasten my seatbelt for landing.

I was honestly glad I had only packed one small bag for the trip. I hated waiting around for luggage. I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed out the large glass doors and found a cab. He knew the area where my family lived well and sped towards the suburbs south of the airport. He was a friendly cabbie, but I was not in the mood to talk. I was about to do something I should have done years before and I was nervous and edgy. He soon figured out that I was seeking quiet and the only sounds were his wheels skimming through the slush and the odd beep of a horn thanks to city traffic. I found the sounds soothing. He turned into the subdivision and I looked around me at the towering luxury homes all around me. Home…as strange as it seemed, was in one of these big, cold looking houses.

The cab driver navigated through the narrow, twisting streets and stopped at the corner lot with a big, grey brick house sitting close to the road. My father's Mercedes was sitting in the drive, sparkling as always. I paid the driver and climbed out of the cab, thanking the driver again and heading for the wide front doors nervously. I wondered briefly why I was nervous about entering my own house and shook it off. I knocked. It felt weird not to. I only came home for holidays, more specifically, for Christmas now. I avoided Chicago like the plague. There were too many bad memories for my liking. I waited. I heard the heavy footsteps of my father slowly coming toward the door. One door opened and my father looked me in the eye and frowned thoughtfully. "Edward," he said. "Your mother said you'd be in town." He stepped to the side and let me pass.

My father looked much more like Alice and Emmett than he did like me. Sometimes I joked to Esme my father was really the milk man. Carlisle was tall, and more bulky than I was, though much less bulky than Emmett. He had broad shoulders and narrow hips. He was dressed in his typical winter attire, brown corduroy pants, a white oxford shirt and a sweater, today it was a dark green. My father had always dressed like he was sixty, for as long as I could remember. He used to be more youthful; though between the stress of his job, and probably myself, he was starting to look older and more worn out. His dark hair was starting to show the grey, which I supposed was normal considering he was in his mid fifties, and his face looked tired, his eyes sad. Though I remembered well when his eyes first took on the look of sadness. I remembered that night far better than I wanted to. The night he told me. The first time my father had not been able to fix my mistakes.

At first I blamed him. He was Carlisle Cullen; he could fix anyone and anything. But soon I realized that it was not his fault. I had just screwed up in a much bigger way. It was my fault. I had failed. I had loved her, and I had lost her, and it was no one's fault but my own. That was the part I had trouble with. The fact that it was my fault. I did this to myself. I had no one to blame.

And if I had the power to do it once, I could do it again, and I didn't want Bella to suffer. And frankly, if I was being honest, I couldn't bear to suffer again either. I could not go through that again. I could not ever lose Bella the way I had lost her. The way I had lost Charlotte. Bella deserved more than me. She deserved more than I would ever be able to give her. She deserved someone who could love her with everything that they were, and that she could love back. She could never really love me. Not if she knew the truth. But damn it, I wanted her. Every piece of me screamed for Bella. She was who I thought about before I fell asleep at night, and my first thought when I woke in the morning. I missed her smile and her hand over mine on the gear shift when we drove. I missed the way one tendril of hair would fall out of her pony tail and fall into her eye, and I missed brushing it away. I missed looking into her eyes and seeing straight into her soul. I missed kissing her and holding her and waking up beside her in the morning. I missed making love to her, for that's what it was. Sex with Bella was not just sex; it was not sex like it was with every other girl, it was something deeper; a connection I never really thought could exist.

But she didn't want me. I'd been horrible to her, so really who could blame her? But she didn't want me. She'd never called, never come over. She had walked away and she had not come back. I had no idea what to do, but I knew why I was in Chicago. I was there for a reason and I was going to do my best to at least deal with the demons in the city that had once been my home. I would deal with what was waiting, or not waiting for me in Seattle when I got back.