A/N: Yes! My science exam is finished! I probably failed, but whatever! I'm just glad it's over! Yayyy! So, here's the next chapter. It's really angstful, just to warn you… and… yeah. Have fun reading it!

- - -

Our new house was a disaster. It was cute and everything, French country house styled. But a few shackles on the roof had fallen off, some were cracked. One of the back windows in the house was smashed, and Edward and I hadn't noticed it until we'd bought it a few weeks before. Edward kept putting off unpacking all of his junk, so I was constantly tripping over it in the hallways, and it had been raining non-stop ever since we got back. Some days the rain split mercilessly from the clouds, and others were dry, but overcast and depressing. It didn't help that our roof had random leak spots. Every time we thought we'd caught one, there'd be another one.

And it especially didn't help that I was cranky, tired all the time, and crampy. Apparently the Advil had been lost in the move, because I swear on my life I spent two hours one day looking for it, and hadn't discovered it. I'd been so busy around the house that I didn't have time to go out and get any more, so I had to suffer through the headaches, cramps and backaches. It surprised me. I was hardly ever crampy, even during my period.

Guests were constantly in and out of our tiny, cramped house, and it was embarrassing, truthfully, because I barely had time to clean while I was trying to unpack through the, sometimes gruelling, pain.

- - -

"Edward," I called from the bedroom. The TV was loud, and I had to shout unnecessarily loud to get his attention.

I heard the volume inching down, and then, "What?!"

"Come here!"

I heard the groan of the old, second-hand couch we'd bought as he rose from it, and the pad of his feet against the hardwood floor in between the living room and the staircase. A moment later, I sensed him in the bedroom doorway.

"What? What is it?" He sounded a little out of breath from his jog up the stairs.

I emerged from the adjoining washroom, clutching my stomach. His eyes were panicked as he appraised my posture. His lips parted, but no sound emitted from them.

I removed my hands to reveal the bleach stain across my stomach of the dark blue shirt and pouted. "I loved this shirt."

Edward exhaled loudly and sunk onto the bed. He ran his fingers through his hair. "God, Bella," he muttered into his hands, and his tone was slightly pissed.

"What?" I wanted to know, leaning against the doorjamb in between the washroom and the bedroom.

He didn't answer for a long time, and the only sound in the room was his heavy breathing.

"Edward." I said, moving a little closer to him, concerned now.

He rose so abruptly from the bed that it startled me. "I thought you were fucking pregnant!"

I felt my face blanch, and my lips part. "W-what?" I finally stuttered. "What are you talking about?"

I'd never heard Edward swear in my life. Never. Not in all the ten years I'd known him.

Instead of replying, he stormed suddenly from the room. I heard his footfalls on the stairs, across the hardwood again, and then the slam of the front door. I winced unconsciously as it bashed violently into the door jamb.

"What the hell?" I heard my own voice whisper.

- - -

At approximately eight o' clock thunder reverberated through the cavernous spaces of our house. Five seconds later, lightening flashed through the window and I felt my heart pick up its pace.

I sunk onto the couch, hoping Edward would be home soon. He would be trapped in the rain.

I flicked on the TV, hoping the mind numbing effect it had on me would distract me for awhile. But as I attempted to focus on the eight o' clock news, my mind wandered unwillingly toward Edward and what had happened in the bedroom earlier. I hadn't found a logical explanation for it, and when I had called Angela for her opinion, she had no clue as to what was with him either.

"I don't know, Bella," she had said, "that's a strange reaction."

"I know," I'd agreed. "It was almost as if he were… angry or something…"

Another rumble of the thunder jarred me back into reality, and then, accompanying the next flash of lightning, the TV conked out. I tried pressing the 'power' button, but nothing happened. Then I rose off of the couch and dodged the mine-field of boxes to get to the kitchen. Somehow, in all the chaos of unpacking, I'd thought to plug in the phone. I picked it up, pressed 'talk' and brought it to my ear, but all I earned was a sharp nothing.

"Ugh," I groaned when I realized the power must have gone out.

With nothing else to do, I donned my lime-green and heather grey wind breaker and flip flops and exited the house.

The rain was like needles on my skin and scalp, and I squinted through the deluge, to see if Edward was coming back up the road. But everyone sane was inside. The whole side of my street was black, a faint glow of a candle spilling from the windows of a few. The other side of the kid-friendly street was completely fine. I flipped up the hood of my jacket, jammed my hands into my pockets and began my trek up the way I thought Edward would have gone—toward the basketball court around the corner.

My jeans were hugging to my legs, and my feet were sliding around in my flip flops like an inexperienced ice skater.

I finally reached the basketball court, of course, soaked to the bone now, and lo and behold, Edward was there in the torrent, bouncing a basketball on the damp concrete as if he were oblivious to the volley around him. His light blue shirt was practically glued to his torso, and his hair was dripping with water. Every once in awhile, he would pause to shake it out of his face, but then he continued to shoot hoops.

"Edward!" I called over the wish-wash of rainfall.

He didn't hear me, and I raised my hands to cup them around my mouth. My hood flew from my head, slapping me in the back. The rain attacked my hair, whipping it around in the wind. I felt as if I were in the center of a hurricane.

"EDWARD!" I screamed, stepping closer.

He spun on his heel so quickly that he skidded across the slippery concrete. When he saw it was me, he dropped the basketball to the ground and jammed it under his foot.

I motioned for him to come closer with my hand.

He obliged, taking a few steps toward my direction.

"Come on! Let's go home!" I offered.

He shook his head furiously, and turned back toward the hoop.

I huffed angrily, shaking some water off of my arms and strode toward him. He was lining up the ball with the net, but before he could launch it, I jumped up and snatched it from his hands.

"Are we going to do this again?" I questioned, now able to speak at a regular volume being that we were close.

"What do you mean?" he asked, making no attempt to steal the ball back.

"Fight. You ignoring me."

Edward sighed. "Not if you don't want to."

"Why would I want to fight with you?" I questioned, absolutely dubious as to why I would want that.

Edward shrugged, averting his eyes toward the purple clouds, finally looking like he realized it was raining. He shuddered in his scant clothes. He mumbled something I didn't quite catch, and leaned toward him on my tip toes.

"What?"

"You're just a bit melodramatic, that's all," he said a bit louder.

I opened my mouth to counteract what he had said, but then I realized I might have been a teensy bit melodramatic.

"You're still upset about the basketball game thing?" I demanded, shocked. It had been a month and some!

"No."

"Then what?" I was completely and utterly bewildered.

"I thought you were pregnant!" he shouted into the torrent of rain, furiously.

"Yeah, I caught that earlier. Why are you…?" I cut myself off by gasping. "You're upset that I'm not pregnant?" I cried, the realization of the fact whirling my mind.

He shrugged petulantly.

"No, tell me!" I commanded, dropping the ball and knotting my fingers into the hem of his t-shirt.

He shrugged my fingers from his clothing, staring stubbornly over my head.

"Edward! Tell me!"

"YES!" he screamed, now piercing my face with his eyes. "YES! OKAY?! I'M MAD THAT YOU'RE NOT PREGNANT!"

I blinked, clearing my eyes of the rain. "What?"

I heard his huff of frustration, and he crossed his arms across his water-logged chest, shuddering again. He didn't bother to answer me.

"Why?"

"I swear, you can be so blond sometimes," he muttered.

I scoffed defensively. "That was rude."

He bobbed his shoulders again, not bothering to apologize or care that he'd offended me.

I took a deep breath. "Edward," I whispered, suddenly not caring that he couldn't hear me. He didn't give the impression of being concerned about my input, so whatever. "I don't want to be pregnant."

The left corner of his lips twitched in spectism.

"You don't know what I do and don't want!" I cried, suddenly angry.

He was like a statue, unmoving, even as the wind and the rain nearly bowled me over.

"SAY SOMETHING, ASSHOLE!" I screamed, unable to control myself.

He didn't move. Not a twitch in his facial composure, or the muscles in his arms—not even his fingers flexed in annoyance.

"SAY," I screamed, shoving hard against his chest. He stumbled back, dropping his arms to keep his balance. "SOMETHING!" I shoved him again. I shoved harder, and still he stared stone-faced over my head. My hands balled into angry fists.

His eyes flickered to my face. "Do it." He said, so quiet I almost missed his words.

"What?" I yelled, attempting to calm my anger.

He grabbed my wrists. "Hit me!" he screamed back.

I didn't say anything.

"Do it!" he screamed.

The anger bubbled in my chest, up my throat and frothed over. Without thinking, I snapped my wrist back, making purchase with his face. I pulled back, clapping my hands over my mouth—shocked at what I'd just done. He held his hand to his mouth, and when he pulled it away, blood stained his hand. It faded with the rain.

"Edward…" I whispered.

He scoffed a surprised laugh. But he didn't say anything. His eyes rose to my face, suddenly hard.

I swallowed. My heart was lodged in my throat. "I'm leaving," I told him, and then turned on my heel, forcing myself to walk away from him.

I will not cry, I promised myself as I walked. I will not cry…

- - -

"I will not cry." I assured Rosalie when she opened the door to B12, aka, her apartment.

"Oh my God," she breathed when she took in my drenched form. "What happened to you?"

"Long story short, Edward's a jerk. A huge, pain in the ass jerk." I told her, squeezing past her, into the comforts of her apartment. I'd always loved Rosalie's apartment. She bought the kookiest artwork, and left the most random of things lying around. Once I'd seen a butterfly clip wrapped in a paisley scarf. I told her I didn't want to know. Now I was staring at a bright purple bowl of pop corn, two Bud Light Limes sat on the table in front of the couch along with the case to Transformers the first. Oh, and did I mention there was a shirtless boy sprawled out on her couch? Emmett, Rosalie's long-time boyfriend sat up to see who had walked in the door. His blue eyes widened when he took in my appearance, and then he recovered.

"Hey, Bella," he greeted.

"Hi, Em," I glumly replied, continuing on the spare bedroom. I shut the door, dumped my bags on the bed, and stood there in the middle of the dark room like a vampire, arms at my sides.

"I'll be right back." I heard Rosalie say. Then there was a faint smacking of lips as she probably bent down to kiss him, and a moment later, the door to the spare room creaked open.

"Bells?" Rosalie tentatively questioned, stepping up behind me.

"I will not cry," I whispered forcefully as my eyes welled. I squeezed my eyelids together and hugged myself to keep the sobs inside, but it was a huge burden. It was heavy, and I wasn't strong at all. The tears leaked from my eyes and down my cheeks, and a pitiful, muffled sob escaped from my throat.

Rose reached out tentatively to wrap her arms around me, but then thought better, tapped me lightly on the shoulder and reached into her back pocket. A moment later, she emerged, armed with her LG Keybo.

When I eyed it quizzically, she raised an eyebrow and explained, "I'm calling in reinforcements."

- - -

Rosalie's front door flew open and bashed against the wall. The force of it caused a few band posters that had been taped to the bright red door to flutter to the ground.

"SHIT HAPPENS!" Lauren screamed, stepping through the ajar entrance.

"What she said!" Alice announced, shoving past Lauren. "I brought B&J's. Half-baked."

"I love you?" Angela questioned, stepping through the door, a Nightmare Before Christmas backpack dangling from the crook in her elbow. Compliments of Lauren, no doubt.

I sat unmoving on the couch, knees to my chest, glaring at my best friends glumly.

Emmett awkwardly rose to his feet from the other couch, scooping his shirt up off the ground. The other girls pretended not to notice as he pulled it over his head.

"I'm gonna… go," he said to Rosalie, bent down to peck her quickly on the cheek and then scampered from the apartment, pulling the door shut behind him.

"Rosalie, where are your spoons?" Alice asked from the kitchen.

"Drawer by the stove," she told her through a mouthful of popcorn. When she plucked her bud light off the coffee table and brought it to her lips, I abruptly stole it from her and took a huge gulp.

"Jesus Christ!" she cried, snatching the bottle back. "It's beer! Not water! God, child," she scolded before taking another sip.

I pouted. "I got drunk on our honeymoon and ruined the whole thing," I moped.

Alice plopped down on the couch beside me and shoved the half-baked tub of Ben and jerry's underneath my chin. From the depths of the ice cream, stabbed six silver spoons. I plucked one from the ice cream and licked the ice cream off the spoon half heartedly.

"Look. We brought movies." Angela said, appearing almost miraculously in front of me, the black and purple back pack in hand. She unzipped it in one swift motion and dumped the contents on the table.

Two more tubs of B&J's tumbled out onto the coffee table. I caught the labels of them both. Peanut Butter Tracks, and Brownie Sundae. Along with the ice creams came The House Bunny, Fired Up!, and How to Lose A Guy in 10 Days.

"What do you wanna watch first?" Rosalie asked.

I simply shrugged. "I don't care. Whatever you guys feel like."

The girls ended up deciding on Fired Up! so after if was popped into the DVD player, everyone settled into the couches, on the shag rug on the floor, feet and legs draped over various body parts, heads resting in various laps. This was how we usually watched movies. I was squished between Alice and Angela, and I shovelled Half Baked ice cream into my mouth mindlessly, focusing on the fake cheer and happiness exuding from the actors on the screen.

Just as Nick and Eric were performing their cheer in front of the camp official, Angela cocked her lips toward my ear and whispered, "So why did you and Edward get into that huge fight anyway?"

I was immediately overwhelmed by the fresh cucumber smell of her deodorant mixing with her Lovely by Sarah Jessica Parker perfume.

"He thought I was pregnant," I murmured into her ear.

"What?!" she and two other people cried in unison.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" Alice cried in what sounded very much like complaint.

By this time someone had thought to pause the movie, and five pairs of eyes were on me.

"I'm not pregnant!" I insisted, staring around at my shocked group of friends.

"Ohh!" Alice breathed in relief. "Phew!"

"Yeah, but tell that to Edward," I muttered, folding my arms across my chest. Alice picked up the Half-Baked from my lap and scooped out a huge spoonful.

"Why?" she asked through a mouthful of frozen delight.

I sighed. "He was angry that I wasn't pregnant. And then, like all fights go, it turned into something way bigger than that, and I left. Simple."

"Did he call yet?" Lauren asked.

"He's probably not that desperate," I told her, throwing a side-glance in her direction.

"He's your husband, Bell. Of course he's desperate. Check your phone!"

"No. I don't wanna talk to him."

Alice pouted. "If you won't, I will. And you know I'm telling the complete and utter truth."

I almost uttered a growl of frustration, because I so knew it was. "You can't control how my relationships go, Alice," I contradicted her.

Alice folded her arms stubbornly across her chest. "Bella, if you've forgotten," she said, holding up my left hand. The ring glinted in the blue light from the TV, "you're married. Just a month and a half ago you vowed that you'd stay with Edward no matter what. You've been hooked on him since grade seven. I of all people should know this. You came to me for everything. You—"

"Why don't you take him then?" I asked her, the ring suddenly weighing a ton. "You liked him at some point, didn't you?"

Even though my tone burned with venom, Alice laughed. "Yeah, like, ten years ago. Anyway, that's beside the point. You and Edward need to make up."

I stood from the couch when the other girls joined in on Alice's enthusiasm. "Stop, guys!" I demanded, suddenly frustrated. "You need to stop telling me how to run my life. Edward and I will make up if it's the right thing to do. Just because we're married doesn't mean that we're going to stay together. I'm not going to force myself to stay with someone if I'm unhappy."

"Bella, you've been hung up on him since you were thirteen years old. That means something." Alice adamantly pointed out.

To that, I had no answer.

- - -

In the dream, Edward and I were in the backyard of our house. We were sitting in the old, faded pool we kept in the backyard of my old house for my dog to play in. The sun beat down heavily on the top of my head, warming my hair against my scalp. I could feel my shoulders burning, and found it odd that I could feel these things so clearly in a dream.

Little wavelets of water lapped against my bare stomach as he shifted in the water across from me. How we both fit in the forty-five inch pool was beyond me. I tugged on the straps of my bikini, suddenly uncomfortable.

"Bella?" Edward asked, and I looked up into his face.

"What?"

"I think you should come home."

"I am home," I replied, completely oblivious. We were in the backyard of our house.

"I miss you," he said as if I hadn't uttered words at all.

I sighed, knotting my fingers together. "I just think we need some time to work things out, okay?"

He frowned, and before we could engage into anymore conversation, I stood abruptly from the pool and stepped onto the grass. It lodged itself in between my toes and stuck to the bottoms of my feet, and I walked as quickly as I could across the lawn.

Abruptly, quicker than I thought possible, Edward's arm was in front of me, blocking my gait. He shifted his body in front of mine so there was no way I could get around him.

Before I could say anything, his hands were on my upper arms, and his face was inches from mine.

"Don't—" I began to say, but my words were cut off by his lips against mine.

When my eyes closed in the dream, they opened to reality.

I sat up slowly in bed, trying to shake the dream from my mind. The sheets were tangled around my legs, and tiny beads of sweat had formed on my brow.

Carefully, I rose from bed, as to keep my balance. I shivered when the cool air from the fan across the room washed over my skin. The orange light from the streetlamp outside was washing in from the window, lighting up the room in an inferno. I eased the door open, and it squeaked loudly, reverberating through Rosalie's apartment. I crossed the large room to the kitchen and slipped onto a bar stool. There was an abandoned half-full glass of water and a book with a generic black cover. The overhead light from the stove shone brightly, and I tilted the book so I could read the spine. But the golden words there were too scratched to make out any of the words. I slumped forward on the cool granite of the countertop, glaring at the phone beside me.

Without thinking, I picked it up and ran my thumbs over the keypad, hesitating. I dialled my home number, and then pressed end. I dialled it three more times, and on the third time pressed talk.

I brought the phone to my ear, taking a deep breath.

It rang four times before there was a click, informing me that Edward had picked up. There was a rustle of bed sheets—probably as he dragged the phone across the bed toward him—and then breath in the phone.

"Hello?" he said groggily.

I didn't answer, the words suddenly lodging in my throat. My breath came shallowly, and I swallowed, trying to work up the nerve to say something, to say anything!

"Hello?" Edward said again, this time a little more tersely. "Is anyone there?"

I pulled the phone from my ear, hung up, and slumped back onto the countertop, resting my face in my arms.

- - -

A/N: Reviews are better than Bella punching Edward in the face =D