WARNING: There is some sensitive matter ahead, concerning Bella's mother! You have been warned, and please know that I tried to handle it as sensitively as possible. If anyone is offended, I apologize in advance!

Chapter 11: Bella's Bday con't

Edward POV

I watched the tears well up in her eyes and then she disappeared up the stairs. That was not the reaction I was expecting. I excused myself from the room and followed her up the stairs toward my room, hearing the door slam. Even though it was my room, I still felt the need to knock. "Bella? You alright?" I called through the door but all I could hear were her muffled sobs. I walked in and saw her lying down on my bed, with her face buried in my pillow. I closed the door and walked over to the bed, sitting down beside her and rubbing her back. "I'm sorry, was it the CD? I thought you liked that song."

She was completely still for a moment until I saw her hand slip out from beneath the pillow to reach out behind her for mine. I gently took it and she finally rolled onto her side and then pulled me down to lay next to her. If it wasn't for the heartbreaking look on her face, I might have some difficulty complying, but everything about her screamed that all she needed right now was Edward, her best friend. Not Edward, the hormonal teenager who was madly in love with his best friend but couldn't fess up to his own feelings for her, and who wanted to throw all caution to the wind and make her his. I mentally smacked myself for even thinking about that now and lowered down onto the bed next to her, and she immediately curled into my side.

I wrapped my arms around her and kissed the top of her head, holding her for several silent minutes as she cried into my shirt. She had told me the night of our 'date' that Clair de Lune reminded her of her mother, but I didn't think that it would upset her like this. "Bella, I really am sorry if that upset you. It wasn't my intention."

"I know." Her soft voice cut me off before I could continue as she drew tiny patterns on my chest with her index finger. "I love the CD, really. It meant a lot to me, because you really put some thought into it, and every song was absolutely perfect. Even the last one. It's not you, Edward, it's me. It's been a rough few weeks for me."

She laid there silently for a moment as I stroked her hair gently with my hand. Just as I was about to say something, I heard her pull in a deep intake of breath, tilting her head slightly to look up at me. "I can trust you, can't I?"

My brow furrowed as I looked down into her eyes, but was met with such a sudden childlike innocence in their depths that I immediately relaxed my features. This was a Bella I never saw; the completely open and vulnerable shadow of a scared little girl. My embrace tightened on her slightly, instantly wanting to protect and shield her from whatever it was that was causing this pain in her eyes; to make it disappear and bring my Bella back. My firecracker. "Of course you can, Bella. You can always trust me. What's wrong?"

She seemed to search my eyes for a moment before obviously deciding that I was sincere, and tilted her head back down. "I've never talked about this to anyone, not even Charlie. It's just too painful, for both of us. But this year… it has been particularly hard. This past July was ten years since my mother passed away."

And just like that, I felt like the world's most colossal asshole. Even though I had no way of knowing exactly when, I knew her mother had died when she was five. I should have been here for her. As if she could read my mind, she hugged herself tighter to me and shook her head slightly.

"I'm not telling you this to make you feel bad. Just trying to explain why I've been so crazy lately," she said softly and took a deep breath. "You remember yesterday when I told you that I had been seeing a psychologist a few years ago?"

I hummed an affirmation, but she still took a moment to continue. I could tell this was something she was struggling with, so I allowed her to take her time. She was entrusting me with something that was obviously so important to her, I wasn't going to rush her.

"Charlie began to worry about me, because I just suddenly shut down. My grades started slipping and I rarely left my room except to go to school. And I started drawing…a lot. Always my mother. So he took me to this psychologist to help me open up and talk about what happened with my mother, and I never did. I just eventually ended up putting on my happy face and pretending that everything was okay. I stopped drawing my mom, got my grades up and everything was fine," she started and I watched her as her eyes filled up with tears again, spilling over onto my shirt. "But I wasn't fine, Edward. How could I be?"

She didn't seem to actually be asking me the question; more throwing the inquiry out into thin air. I had no idea what to say, so I thought it best to say nothing at all. She suddenly sat up and took my hand in hers; resuming the patterns she was drawing on my chest on the back of my hand.

"I really have never told anyone about this, Edward. And even now, it's so hard. Because I don't want pity, just understanding. And that seems so damn hard to come by," she said with an almost angry voice, but then her face softened some. "It's bad enough when you're five years old and your dad drops you off for your first day of school, and everyone asks you 'Where's your mom?'. And then you have to say she's dead. I didn't want to find out what those looks would be like if I told anyone that she did it to herself."

I tried to school my shocked expression at her admission, not wanting her to clam up again. The mixture of emotions coming over her face right now was evidence enough that she really needed to get this out and finally lighten the heavy burden that had been laid on her as such a young child.

Her eyes looked up at the ceiling, seemingly to force back more tears. "I found her that morning. My dad hadn't gotten home from work yet, he worked the night shifts back then. I crawled into bed with her like I always did," her lip began to tremble and I sat up, lacing our fingers together and giving her hand a gentle squeeze, urging her to continue. "Don't pity me, Edward! Do not fucking pity me!"

She attempted to move away from me, but I wouldn't let go of her hand and pulled her back into my arms. She punched my chest halfheartedly through her sobs, her entire body trembling. I knew she wasn't really angry with me, so I just let her vent and cry. "It's not pity, Bella. It's being a friend and a shoulder."

Her fists ceased on my chest and her arms slid around my waist again, hugging herself tightly against me. "I thought she was sleeping. Just sleeping. But I said 'morning mommy', and she didn't even stir. She was so cold. I tried pulling more blankets over her, but she still didn't move. I shook her, and still nothing. My dad came running up the stairs when he came home because I was screaming at her to wake up. I don't know how long my dad held me that day after he picked me up off the bed," she paused and looked up at me, shaking her head. "Charlie wasn't always the way he is now, and neither was I. He used to read stories to me every night before he left for work. On his days off, we used to sit in his recliner and watch TV until we fell asleep. He took me to my first baseball game when I was three down in Tucson for a spring training game, and I have this picture in my room," she smiled as she recalled this seemingly happy memory for her. "Of me on my dad's shoulders, baseball hat on my head, and a hotdog ten times the size of my hand in one and one of those little flags in the other. I love that picture, because it reminds me everyday of how much Charlie has always loved me, whether he shows it or not."

Her eyes grew sad and I could tell the topic was going to change again. Her lip began trembling again and her chin dipped down slightly. "The night before… it happened, my mom and I were down in the living room and we were listening to Debussy. Not that it was anything extraordinary in itself, because we both loved Clair de Lune, among others. But she kept playing that piece over and over, telling me that she loved me and how beautiful I was. And that's the last memory I have of my mother, until I watched them rolled her out of the house in a body bag. I screamed at them to bring her back. I screamed at my dad, and told him I hated him because he wouldn't make them. I hurt him so badly, Edward."

"You were a little girl, Bella," I tried to soothe her, even though her story was tearing at my heart to the point where I was restraining tears. It hurt me to think that she had been bottling this up and holding it in for ten years, shouldering the entire world without once asking for help. If possible, it only made me admire and love her more. "You were a little girl experiencing something no child should ever have to endure. And I doubt very much that your father resents you at all for it."

"He doesn't, and that's the hardest part I think," she replied quietly and shook her head. "The night of the funeral, he and his friend Waylon were down in the kitchen talking. They thought I was in bed, but I couldn't sleep. My father was angry, but not at me…"

10 years earlier…

Bella POV

"How could she have been so damn selfish, Waylon?" I heard my dad say and I heard the clink of the beer can setting down on the table. "Leaving me is one thing but how could she do this to Bella?"

"Charlie, she wasn't in her right mind, you have to know that. She loved Bella as much as you do, and she loved you too," Waylon tried to console my dad, but I heard him scoff angrily. "It's still fresh now, but someday you'll see that."

"Yea, she loved me so much that she tells me that we got married too young and had Bella too soon? How is that telling me that she had any love in her for me or our little girl?" I heard him growl and I hugged my arms around my legs as I curled up where I sat at the top of the stairs. My dad had always been a very calm and loving man, never so much as raising his voice at my mother or me. Only once had he even gotten stern with me; when I climbed out of my bedroom window one night and was walking on the roof right past my parents' window. Even then, he just hugged me tightly.

I heard my dad's voice crack a little as he continued to speak. "And how could she have left that letter right where Bells could find it? What is she had seen that? She knew Bella always came to climb in bed with her in the morning and wait for me to come home," he said, and I couldn't tell if he was going to start yelling or crying, because I had never heard either of the two before. But it was certainly one option or the other right now. "I love her so much, Waylon. She and Bella are everything to me, my whole life. Everything I've done has been for them. Why wasn't that enough? Why does my baby have to grow up not knowing what a wonderful woman her mother was? I know this shouldn't make me angry. I know that's the wrong emotion. But I am. It wasn't like she got sick and died, that I could forgive. She took herself away from us, and I am so damn angry with her for doing that to me and even worse, to our little girl. I can't understand it, how could she possibly expect a five year old girl to understand why Mommy did this?"

All went silent for a moment, and it gave me a moment to try to comprehend with my five-year-old brain what had just transpired. Daddy was angry at Mommy for going away. At the time I couldn't understand; and wouldn't for some years to come.

"Shit I'm sorry, Waylon. I just don't know what to do now. Every night this week, I've heard Bella crying and talking in her sleep, and it kills me to just lay there and listen. Then she starts screaming for her mom, and I'm the only one there to pick up the pieces that Renee left behind. I feel like a little part of me is dying right along with her, when I have to look into that little tear-stained face and see all the pain and fear there. And I'm not the one she's calling for. She needs her mother, and that's the one thing I can't do for her."

Tears were streaming down my face as I heard my dad pour his heart out, and even in my young immature mind, I instantly felt guilty for the things I had said and the way I had been treating him for the last couple of days. I'd been so mad at him, hurting so much from missing my mom that I had completely overlooked that he was hurting too. I had been very typically five, but my dad didn't deserve that.

I stood up, tiptoeing back to bed and climbing in. "Daddy!" I yelled out, not entirely faking the sob that was emitting from me. "Daddy!"

I heard the chair scrape across the wood floor of the kitchen and the quick heavy footsteps on the stairs until he was at my door. And I will never, even if I live to be a hundred, forget that image. He stood there looking completely disheveled, his tie loosened and shirt unbuttoned at the top, and when he made his way over to me, there was the distinct scent of his favorite beer. Mom always hated it when he would drink beer, but I didn't mind the smell. It was part of the scent that reminded me of my dad. Aftershave, leather and a trace of beer.

I wrapped my tiny arms around his neck and climbed into his lap, hugging him tightly. I felt him kiss my temple and rock me gently. "It's ok, Bella. Daddy's here."

"Daddy?" I said softly, leaning my head on his shoulder and he hummed in response. "I miss Mommy."

"I know you do, honey. I do too," he replied softly in a sincere voice. "But everything is going to be okay. We'll take care of each other, alright?"

"Okay," I said in a soft tone, snuggling into his arms. "I love you, Daddy. I'll take good care of you, I promise." I felt a tear drop onto my arm from his eyes and I looked up at him, placing my hand on his face as I saw the trails down his cheeks that the tears had left. "No more tears, Daddy. We'll be okay."

"I love you so much, Bells," he replied, hugging me tightly me and then kissing my forehead gently before laying me back down in my bed.

Present

Edward POV

She was so distant as she described that night to me, having sat up on the bed in the process. And by the end of it, I had tears in my own eyes. What had once been such a loving and affectionate relationship between father and daughter had somehow morphed into what it was today, and for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why. What I had seen in the driveway tonight when she was saying goodbye to her dad seemed a lot like what she had just been describing to me. But then, just as quickly, it had reverted right back to that comfortable distance. "Your dad's quite a guy."

That invoked a small smile and she nodded her head. "He really is. I decided that night, after hearing all that pain in my dad's voice that I wasn't going to let him feel that way anymore. But he had his own way of dealing, and I guess that's what kinda set us apart. He went around the house that day and took down every picture of my mom he could find, except the one on his bedside table. He didn't want to be reminded, and I didn't want to forget," she replied, the sad tone returning to her voice. "I guess it put some distance between us. But it doesn't mean I love my dad any less, or vice versa. He just needed someone to take care of him after my mom died. I just… I still miss her so much it hurts. And thinking about her makes it hurt more."

Her tears began to flow again, and I brushed her cheek with my fingertips. "Bella baby, come here," I said softly, holding my arms out for her.

She looked at me with a gaze I had never seen before throwing herself against me, knocking me back slightly and wrapping her arms tightly around my waist. I hugged her and gently stroked her hair as she cuddled against my chest. "You don't know how good it feels to finally tell someone all this. Thank you, Edward."

I kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back. "You don't ever need to thank me for being here. I'll always be here for you. Let me be here for you."

I watched as she bit her lip gently and pulled away to look at me. She seemed to be deep in thought for a moment before she took a deep breath and finally spoke. "Do you think your parents would mind if I stayed in here with you tonight? I just really don't want to be alone."

My heart began racing automatically at the thought of being in here all night alone with Bella; feeling her so close and smelling her all around me as I slept. But I wouldn't deny her out of selfishness. She needed me to be her comfort and security tonight. "It'll be fine. You go ahead and get changed, and I'll go down and tell everyone you're alright." She nodded as I stood up and kissed her forehead before I left.

After telling everyone that Bella was fine and Jacob finally left, I sat down and quickly told my parents about what was going on. That Bella just needed a friend tonight because she was upset about her mom, and I was just going to make sure she was alright. They agreed and appeared to trust me completely when it came to Bella.

When I got back upstairs, Bella was already under the covers with her eyes closed and her soft mahogany hair spread across my pillows. I quietly grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and went to the bathroom to change. As I went to sit down on the couch in my room, I heard her call out my name softly. Her back was facing me, so I couldn't tell if she was awake or not. As I started walking toward the bed, she rolled over to look at me.

"Please, just lay here with me," she asked gently with a sad, tired look in her eyes. I climbed into the bed with her and slid my arm around her shoulders, looking down at her. She held my hand between us, but held my gaze. Those beautiful brown depths I could get lost in forever. My eyes fell to her lips, wanting so badly to brush them with my own. My face began moving toward hers, but then my conscience got the better of me. That would be wrong; she didn't belong to me that way. She belonged to someone else. So I instead pressed my lips gently against her forehead instead.

"Get some sleep, sweet Bella," I whispered and she smiled, turning over and pulling my arm around her shoulders to lock herself in my embrace. Her hand ran along my arm for a while, gradually slowing before coming to a stop.

Today had been a long day-for both of us-but also a very significant day as well. She had shown me implicitly her immense trust in me, something that I alone held. It didn't matter anymore whether I ever won her heart, or shared her bed. I had something infinitely better right here. She would always be my Bella in this way. And I decided right then and there that whatever she needed from me, whatever she wanted was hers. Even if it was only just her friend.

I heard her release a soft shuddering sigh, relaxing more against my arm and I thought she had fallen asleep finally. As I tried to move to head over to the couch, I heard her voice. "Edward…"

I looked back toward her, but she hadn't moved. I tilted my head slightly around her to try to see her face, to see if her eyes were open, but her breaths were still coming slow and measured. Perhaps I only imagined it.

Then she moaned softly and turned over, cuddling against my chest in her sleep and her lips formed a small smile.

"Edward…"

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