A/N: GAH! So much to say so suffer through it, will ya?

First of all, I was nominated AGAIN for fic of the week at The Lemonade Stand! WOW! Thanks, NIC and SixDlbfive!

Second, Jaime Arkin made me a banner! You can see it on my Facebook page ~ I'm Missy J. Jones. The banner is...well, PERFECT! Thank you, girl! I'll post a link when I get my shit together but for now, it's on FB.

Third, a review was written on The Indie Fic Pimp blog about CMNtD! I'm WIP of the week! Ya, I know, right? Here's the link! Just take out the spaces http : / indie fic pimp . blogspot . com / 2012/03 / wip- of - week - 3512 . html

You can also find the link on my Facebook page! I thank AbbyCreations for that fucking awesome review!

Fourthly, I hope you guys are all prepared for the Jasper/Bella/Edward threesome I have planned for this chapter. J/K. Just seeing if you were still paying attention. ;)

Thank you, Softragoo, my beautiful prereader. Everyday, I ask myself the same question: Why the fuck do we have to live in different countries? Huh? HUH?

Okay, I'm almost done...don't get your undies in a bunch.

Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all things Twilight.

Song Rec: "One and Only" by Adele ( This song is perfect for this chapter - Youtube it peeps!)

Okay. Shutting up now.

Twenty four

"You're not crazy."

"I feel crazy."

Edward sat down beside me on the bed and put his arm around my shoulders. "You should sleep in here with me tonight."

I winced. "I thought I was passed this part of my life. You're the one that's supposed be leaning on my shoulder right now, not the other way around. Just when I feel like I'm getting some semblance of normalcy back in my brain, something like this happens."

Turning me slightly so that I was facing him, he wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. "I don't even know what you've been through the past several months but I can tell just by looking at you how much stronger you are. This is going to take years, maybe your whole life, to come to terms with."

I sniffled. "When did you get so smart?"

He chuckled in my ear, his warmth radiating through me. "I'm a little in shock that you haven't noticed my brilliance before."

I giggled wetly into his shirt. "I think I just snotted on you."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

Feeling better I tried to pull away but his arms tightened his hold on me. "Do you need anything from your room?"

I shook my head.

After he'd shut off the lights and shut the door that joined our rooms, he motioned for me to scoot over as he yanked off his shirt. He pulled the covers over us and didn't hesitate to draw me onto his chest with his arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders. I was dressed in my normal sexy bed clothes of sweats and t-shirt but Edward was adorned simply in boxers. He didn't seem uncomfortable nor did he seem to worry that I was. As he lay down beside me, it almost felt as if the past several months hadn't happened and we were back in his apartment in Chicago. I'd forgotten how good it felt, to be wrapped up in him like that. I closed my eyes and inhaled his skin, the soft hairs of his chest tickling my nose. My fingertip traced light circles in the soft hair of his lower abdomen.

"Tell me about Forks," he said softly.

The strength of his arm supporting me like a cage gave me the energy to tell him everything. I told him how lost I felt when I went back and how terrified I was of being in that house; my attempt at smoking and the fight with my dad; Leah and the job. I told him how I'd started running and how I'd joined a martial arts class. Not only did I cover the events of the past six months but I also told him how erratic my emotions were during that time.

"You're doing well," he noted.

"I still have a long way to go, obviously." Reluctantly, I crawled up and rested my head on the pillow so that I could gauge his expression. His arm was trapped under my neck, the feel of his warm skin doing a number on the fluttering that presided in my belly. "Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

He looked over at me and sighed. "I don't know what to expect but…"—he shrugged a shoulder—"We'll see, I guess."

There was a war waging in my head over whether I should push him or let it be, since he obviously didn't want to talk about it. Since he'd just rescued me from my own mind and a lazily hung sweatshirt, I decided to let the subject be. Instead, I watched him stare up at the ceiling with thoughtful eyes that were in danger of being covered by his hair. Hesitantly, I ran my fingers through it, sweeping it out of his face.

"You need another haircut," I whispered.

He turned his face, his eyes flashed with that familiar passion that I'd feared he'd lost while I was in Forks. Slowly, he turned on his side and our noses were inches apart. I breathed in his sweet exhales as if I were breathing life into my own body. With my fingertips, I traced the outline of the wolf tattoo on his shoulder and then down over his chest. He sucked in a breath with the contact but didn't pull away like I expected him to.

"I really missed you, Edward," I whispered roughly. "I thought about you every day."

Regret swept over his face and he opened his mouth to say something—probably something really stupid and self-deprecating. Before he could get any words out, I leaned forward swiftly and pressed my mouth to his. The hesitation on his part was apparent but it melted away as I clutched at his back to pull him closer to me. Warmth spread through my entire body as he kissed me back and gripped the back of my head with a gentle hand. The scruff of his beard passed roughly over my chin and I groaned as the ache inside me reached a surprisingly alarming level.

That's when I realized that I wasn't afraid. There were no past images of torture running through my brain and my skin didn't prickle at the threat of a mostly nude male tugging at me. The only thing I felt was, well, good. No, it didn't feel good. It felt really fucking amazing. The warmth. The way he clutched onto me and pulled me to him like he'd fall into some deep abyss if he let me go. The way his soft wet lips moved over mine made my body feel like a thousand crystals shimmering in the sunlight. My spirit soared at every touch, every unconscious graze of his fingers over my skin. I felt like I was flying. Finally, finally…finally.

There was no fear. There was no disgust or ulterior motives for the way my fingers tugged his hair, angling his head so that I could plunge my tongue deeper into his mouth. There was no one else here with us, mentally or physically. I was in a place where I never thought I would ever get to and I wondered if he knew how amazing this was for me. He didn't, of course but he needed to know. A rough moan escaped my mouth as I wrapped my leg around his, entwining our bodies into a hot and sweaty tangle. His hand found my ankle and moved upward, under the thin fabric of my pants and massaged my calf.

I panted shamelessly as he broke the kiss but he didn't push me away. He didn't tell me that I belonged with some other man in some other bed. With his green eyes blazing into mine, he opened his mouth to speak but I wouldn't let him. I shushed him with a fingertip to his lips and shook my head, telling him with my eyes that whatever he wanted to say was ridiculous and stupid and would ruin this moment.

Instead, I curled myself into him, basking in the security and heat that was Edward Masen and whispered, "Good night."

XxXxXx

I woke up to the eerie feeling of being watched. It was unfortunately familiar but still the creepiest thing in the world to blink my eyes open to: The face of a blond bearded mountain man.

"You have to stop doing that." My voice was thick with sleep. "You have no manners."

His eyes twitched closed. "Edward told me to keep an eye on you while he was gone. Why are you in his bed, anyway?"

"I don't think he meant in that aspect, Jasper." I sat up and stretched, ignoring his question. "Where did he go anyway?"

"Coffee. Breakfast. Razors."

I raised my eyebrows. "Razors?"

He stroked his beard lovingly with his fingers. "Not for me, of course."

"Oh, of course not—what a ludicrous assumption."

"You don't like my beard?"

For a moment, I gave his beard careful consideration. "If it was, um, maybe trimmed a little and there weren't little crumbs in it all the time, I'd consider liking it."

He dropped his hands to his lap and frowned. "Is that why you refuse to accept my proposal?"

Internally, I groaned but outwardly, I kept a neutral face. "There wasn't a proposal, Jasper, and your beard would have nothing to do with my answer if there ever were such a proposal."

He brightened considerably.

After I'd taken care of my morning needs and gotten dressed, Edward had returned with—bless his heart—coffee and doughnuts. We ate in comfortable silence and watched Jasper drip custard down his shirt after a nice big bite.

"I want to take a quick shower and shave before we go," Edward mumbled after we'd eaten.

Half an hour later, he and I were getting into my rental. The nervous tension in the air was palpable and my mind scrambled to think of what to say to help put Edward at ease. I asked the first thing that I could think of that had nothing to do with where we were going.

"What's up with Jasper?"

"What do you mean?"

"Doesn't he live here in town? Why are you putting him up in a motel room if he lives here? Not that I mind, of course. The guy has actually grown on me a little. Except when he watches me sleep. That's disturbing." I took a deep breathe and glanced at him. He looked amused.

"Jasper has…problems."

"What kind of problems?"

He licked his lips. "I've only gotten patches of the story—some from Jasper himself and other parts from Betsy."

"You talked to Betsy about Jasper?"

"I called her this morning while I was out picking up breakfast and the subject just sort of popped up."

"Oh, so what did she say?"

He rubbed his knuckle against his freshly shaved jaw. "After Alice died, he went through a self-destructive period and got addicted to meth. When he'd come visit me in Pekin, I could tell he was strung out but he never asked me for anything."
"Why'd you ask him to stop visiting? Were you mad at him for taking Alice to that party?"

After a beat of hesitation, he cut his eyes to me. "At first, yes, but he's not the one who dragged her into that car and got her killed." I pressed my lips together to keep from arguing with him on the blame issue. "I told him to leave me alone because I was afraid that seeing me was making him worse. The guilt that he felt was obvious and seeing me in prison…it was hard on him, it made him go even further downhill. So, I told him to stop coming to visit."

"What happened after that? He's not still…"

His eyes burned into mine. "Bella, I wouldn't let him hang around you if he was still slamming that shit."

"How did he get clean?"

"He told me that some people here in town helped him get into rehab, one of them being Betsy. She said that at one point, he overdosed on something and he was in a coma for three days. If it wasn't for Betsy, I have my doubts that Jasper would be alive today, from what both of them have told me."

I raised my eyebrows. "Your grandma helped him get clean?" He nodded. "Wow. That's just…wow."

"Now Jasper just bounces around from house to house; there isn't any place in particular that he stays permanently. He was a little nutty before the drugs but now…now, he's totally out there which eliminates any decent job prospects. Nobody wants to hire an addict—before he got clean, he was arrested for possession with intent to sell but since it was his first offense, he only got probation and community service."

"Oh, jeez," I mumbled. "So, you're saying that Jasper is homeless?"

He swallowed. "Essentially, Jasper has nothing including a home."

For the next few minutes, I thought about Jasper and I grew sad for him. Jasper had made mistakes but he was trying with no hope in sight for him. I wondered if he'd go back to Chicago with Edward for a while until he was able to find some work. It couldn't have been easy; I couldn't imagine Jasper making it through a job interview without rattling off something strange.

It made me think of how happy Jasper was all the time. He didn't let things get to him; his motives or actions weren't laced with bitterness. The guy was just simply a good guy; or maybe he was just blissfully ignorant. I wasn't sure but in the long run, it didn't really matter. Jasper was Jasper.

"I wondered about that eye twitch," I murmured.

"Eye twitch?"

"Yeah, he's always blinking at me."

Edward laughed a real laugh. "No, that's just Jasper. He used to do that in high school. Jasper has never been able to wink just one eye."

I grinned. "That's Jasper's wink?"

He smiled in return, glancing away from the road for a moment. "Yeah, I don't even think he realizes that he's closing both eyes. It used to crack Alice up."

His expression fell when he mentioned Alice and the weight that the conversation had lifted was now back, heavy on our shoulders.

"What was your dad like?" I asked.

"Smart. Thrifty. Proud," he replied.

I cleared my throat. "Were you close with him when you were young?"

"Yeah, I was." He pressed his lips together in thought. "There were times when I thought we were best friends. He took me to Wrigley for my thirteenth birthday; just him and me. It was…"—he let out a regretful sigh—"amazing."

The turn the conversation had taken was taking its toll on Edward so I kept silent. He knew I was curious so if he wanted to talk, he knew I would listen. The rest of the drive we spent in thoughtful silence.

The Hospice center where Edward's father, Ed Sr. was living was nothing like I expected. Trees and flowers surrounded the landscape in a cheerful greeting as we parked the car. The girl at the front desk smiled at us as if we were simply coming in to pick up our mail. We signed in and headed down the hall where Betsy had directed us the day before. I grabbed Edward's hand and threaded his fingers through mine; a simple gesture that I hoped he'd found comfort in. His hand squeezed mine and didn't let go. When we found the room, we paused to take a breath. I tried to pull my grasp from Edward's, assuming that he wanted to go about this on his own but he strengthened his hold on my hand.

"You want me to go with you?" I whispered.

He cleared his throat and stared at the numbers on the door. "Please."

My throat grew thick with emotion. "Just tell me where you want me."

Finally, he cut his eyes to me; an eyebrow quirked in an amused manner. "I can tell you exactly—"

I pinched his side with my free hand and giggled a little too loud, considering the place we were, and the man inside that room. His teasing calmed me, loosened both of us up enough to knock on the door and wait for a response. A few seconds later, the door opened, its hinges protesting the movement with a quiet creak.

Betsy smiled at both of us; her red rimmed eyes crinkling. "I'm so glad you came; both of you." She opened the door wider so that we could walk past her. "He's fairly coherent today since he's feeling pretty good. The pain medication is at a minimum for now."

As I gripped Edward's hand, I took in the small form of the man in the hospital bed. His face was covered by an oxygen mask and his chest moved deeply with each breath. My first thought was how unfair this was—not only had he failed to contact his son until he was on his death bed but now it would seem almost impossible to give him a piece of my mind. How do you yell at a dying man? How do you release anger on some weak soul who has mere days or weeks left to live?

Edward Sr. was bald and frail. His cheek bones protruded out from behind the oxygen mask and his eyes were closed to the world. My Edward walked to the side of his bed and stared at his father, the man he hadn't seen or spoken to in eight years. This man lying in front of him had held him as an infant, taught him how to walk, taken him to Wrigley Field on his thirteenth birthday. I watched Edward, cautious of his reaction to seeing his father like this. He merely stared, blinked at the prone skeletal form as if he was surfing through his memory in hopes to connect that man from his past to the one in front of him.

"Eddie," Betsy cooed in her son's ear, her arm rubbing soothing streaks along his forearm where tubes and needles and monitors were attached. "Eddie, you have a visitor."

"Y-you don't have to…" Edward started.

Betsy waved him off. "He'd be furious if he knew you were here and I didn't wake him. The nurses here will be grateful. He's weak but he still has his moments of temper tantrums and breakdowns."

"O-okay," Edward mumbled, almost childlike.

My hand that was being clasped in his was starting to ache. However, it wasn't Edward's grip that had gotten so tight but my own. I eased up when I noticed.

Finally, after a few more calls from his mother, Edward Sr. opened his eyes and blinked several times. His pale blue lifeless eyes landed on me first and I could see the question in them. I was two seconds from doing a look-over-here gesture with my finger to indicate the man I was with when he finally let his dull gaze wander over to Edward. There was no question that there was recognition.

He took a deep breath in and released it with two words. "My son."

Edward stared at him with his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide. I squeezed his hand to break him from the trance but it wasn't effective. His dad scratched top of his bald head and breathed heavily into his oxygen mask.

"What are you doing here?" he finally asked, his tone annoyed. Edward didn't answer so the old man felt the need to continue. "Did you hear that your old man's business is booming and you came here because you heard I'd be falling into 'The Big Sleep', hoping that you can cash in on my will?"

Edward didn't move but I wasn't as mesmerized by his father's antics as he was. Nor by Betsy's. I glanced up at her and was met with an apologetic and guilty smile.

Ed Sr. continued his rant. "Ain't that a crock of shit! I don't see him for eight years and here he is now, with his hand out like I owe him something."

Okay. Now I was getting pissed.

"Eddie," Betsy said softly, "you know why Edward is here. There are some things that you need to talk about, you said that yourself just last week."

His chest heaved with breath as he struggled with the desire to lash out again and the need for oxygen. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Edward was like a statue. For the first time since I met him—besides where James comes into play—I was afraid for him. He was always the strong one, always the one I turned to for direction but he was lost. Something wasn't clicking in his brain and I had no way of knowing what he needed to get his ass in gear.

"You do so know what I'm talking about!" she scolded, as if he was a ten year old boy getting caught sneaking a cookie before dinner.

"All I know is that I'm dying and he finally shows up to make amends and—"

"Wait a fucking minute," I blurted.

Both of them turned slowly. Edward was still channeling stone.

"Who the hell are you?" Ed Sr. asked. "Are you looking for a handout too? Jesus Christ!"

"You want to know who I am?" I asked calmly. "I'm a friend of your son's, the most amazing man that I've ever met. He's a beautiful person who has tortured himself his whole life for an accident that took his little sister's life. There hasn't been a day that has passed that he didn't think about what he would do differently in order for Alice to still be here. There hasn't been a moment of his life that has passed that he didn't hate himself for that mistake he made as a kid." I glared down at Edward's father who was watching me with wide eyes. "He was just a kid for God's sake and you…you disowned him! How could you be so God damned cruel?"

Ed Sr. shook his head a little, his eyes wide as they took me in. If he only knew, if I only had the power to show this man a glimpse how much his son, his child, had suffered during his life because of how he was treated by his own blood, then maybe he'd think twice before accusing him of begging for a "handout".

"You are despicable!" I hissed. "I thought that maybe, just maybe, this was you reaching out to him at your last opportunity so that you could let him know how sorry you are! How wrong you were! And you know the amazing thing about this exceptional man standing in front of you? The amazing thing is that he would welcome you with open arms, with or without an apology. That…"—I pointed my finger at the feeble man in the bed—"is something that you apparently don't deserve."

Okay, so the whole yelling at a dying man thing? Not so hard.

I turned to Edward who had finally broken his trance and was looking at me with somewhat of an unreadable expression. I thought for a moment he was smirking but then I saw a tear roll down his cheek. I almost crumbled at watching that lone salty tear trace a path down his beautiful face.

"We should go," I mumbled and tugged on Edward's hand.

"Wait! Wait!" Betsy wiped her eyes as she cut us off from the door. "He really did want to talk to you. He's..."

The sound of her voice was drowned out by a muffled noise coming from the oxygen mask that covered Edward's father's face. At first, I was terrified that he was dying right in front of me. I feared that I had quickened his death by the ferocity of my words. But as we all stopped to stare, we watched the crumpled man on the bed shake as his body heaved with sobs. He lifted his arm, his hand shaky as he reached out for us, for Edward.

For the first time since we walked in this room, Edward dropped my hand and walked slowly to his side. Slowly, he felt the touch of his father's hand for the first time in eight years as he placed it on my Edward's arm. Without dropping his eyes from his dad's, he pulled a chair to the side of his bed.

Ed Sr. looked at Edward in an entirely different way than he had when he first laid eyes on him. He was almost in awe of him, as he lay, struggling for breath. The moment was beautiful and torturous.

"I'm…sorry…" The words seemed so simple to say but the meaning was profound. Edward had never expected to hear those words from the man that had raised him and when he did, he looked expectedly stunned. "I…didn't…"

Edward shook his head. "Don't talk; just rest. We have all day."

I'd never been so proud and elated and full of sorrow in all my life. I was watching something transpire that most people don't get to witness in a lifetime. It was life changing and inspirational.

A tissue blocked my view of the two men and I snatched it from Betsy's shaky fingers. "Thanks," I said with a smile.

"You want to take a walk with me?"

I swallowed and looked back at Edward, afraid to speak to him because if my voice was the thing that ruined this moment between them, I'd never forgive myself. But I couldn't leave him without knowing if he needed me with him or not. "Are you okay if I step outside?"

Edward looked up at me and the smallest smirk raised the corner of his mouth. "Only if you promise to come back."

I blinked both my eyes, offering him a Jasper-style wink in an effort to turn that tiny smirk into a full-fledged grin. It worked.

As I walked into the hallway with Edward's grandma, the adrenaline was still pumping as I recalled the words that came out of Ed Sr.'s mouth. I liked Betsy but it felt a little too much like we were set up in that room—not just Edward and I but also her son.

"What was that in there?" I asked, trying to keep my tone to friendly but barely succeeding. "You told Edward that he wanted to make amends."

She sighed. "They have really good coffee here. You want to walk down to the café?"

I chewed on my lip as I glanced back at the door we'd just closed. "No, I think I'd rather stay here."

She smiled and nodded as we sat down on a loveseat close to the room they were in. "I'm sorry about that. He really did want to see Edward again but he wasn't expecting it. I guess the shock of it all made him angry and he took it out on the wrong person."

"Why wouldn't you tell him?"

"I wasn't sure he'd show up, to be honest. I didn't want to put thoughts into my son's mind while he's suffering."

Anger boiled up inside of me but I stomped it down. "His reaction was..."—I shook my head and dug my nails into my palms—"ridiculous. Do you know what Edward has been through?"

She raised her silver eyebrows at me. "I didn't until you told us about it just minutes ago."

I sighed and felt some anger drift out of me along with the expelled breath. "I'm sorry. I know you tried to stay in touch with him and he closed himself off."

Her hand covered mine and my fist loosened. "He's lucky to have you."

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty damn lucky to have him too."

The next couple hours were slow and on the verge of being painful. My worries over what was happening behind that closed door didn't make me the conversational type but it didn't seem to affect Betsy. She was Edward's grandma and she'd been kind to me since I'd met her but I would have given my right breast for a bit of a sedative or some duct tape. While I sat on that loveseat, glancing from her to the door, she yammered on and on about nothing in particular: Her book club, how cute the dog is that lives next door—who is unsurprisingly aggressive toward her little Buster—and the dreaded Precious Moments collection that she'd started when Alice was born. Thankfully, this at least opened up to another subject that didn't make me want to yank my molars out.

"Were Edward and Alice close when they were little?" I asked.

She smiled at me. "They were always together, even as they got older. Edward was always really protective of her. I used to tell her that he spoiled her because all she had to do was snap her fingers and her brother would respond." With a sad sigh, she shook her head a little. "I often wonder what that girl would be up to now. She wanted to be a Veterinarian."

"That's what Jasper said."

"That boy is something else, I tell ya!" She laughed and sat back into the plush material of the furniture. "I'm glad that he's pulled himself together."

"You helped with that?"

"I guess a little but he did the hard part," she said with a proud grin.

I didn't really want to know the answer to my next question because it would hurt. "Where does he live?"

She shrugged. "Here and there."

I shook my head. "So, he doesn't really have a home? What about his parents?"

"They don't really communicate with him," she told me. The shock and anger must have been clear on my face because she continued carefully. "When Jasper was going through his hardest year, he did some pretty harsh things to them. The drugs took over his mind and every time they'd try to help him, he'd end up hurting them, cutting into the wound and pouring salt into it. The last time, he stole some of his mom's jewelry—precious family heirlooms—and pawned them. When she tried to get them back, he was so out of it that he couldn't remember where he'd pawned them at. It crushed them and they ended up cutting him out of their lives that very next day."

I was right. I didn't want these answers because the Jasper that I had grown so fond of wasn't the thieving type. But then again, he was clean and sober; his mind damaged but optimistic.

Betsy sensed my concern. "I don't want you thinking that he's a bad kid because he's not; he's just lost. It scares me sometimes because I don't want him going back to that life but then he shows up on my doorstep with his mouth raised in that glorious smile and I have faith that he's going to find his way again."

Before Edward's grandma could get into too much detail about her Friday night Euchre parties, I excused myself to call my own dad. I hadn't called him since the morning before and I knew he'd be worried.

I chatted with my dad for several minutes, and sent him a self-snapped picture of myself with my cell phone like I'd done the first time I'd called him. It was a way for him to sleep better at night, being able to see the picture and knowing that I hadn't been forced to call him as I was in Oklahoma. If he didn't get a picture with the call, he'd know something was up. My dad was brilliant and I told him so after he suggested the idea. I imagined him tugging at his moustache and trying not to grin as he slouched off the compliment.

When I'd hung up from the phone call and walked back to the room, Edward had taken my place and was talking quietly with his grandma. His expression was somber and my heart picked up its pace as I got closer. As I approached, he looked up at me and his effort to smile was appreciated but unnecessary.

"Hey, how'd it go?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Better than I expected."
"Good," I said, nodding, "that's really good."

With a sigh, he turned to Betsy. "We're going to get going."

"Think about what I said, Edward," she said, giving him an awkward hug. "I'll see you soon, Bella."

I nodded and smiled at her, curious as to what she was talking to Edward about. When we got into the car, he released a sigh of exhaustion and turned the engine over. The questions were burning on my tongue but I didn't want to see him combust. He'd already had an overly emotional day and my prodding would only add to that.

"Hungry?" he asked.

I grinned. "I'm starved."

Ten minutes later we were parked in front of a small diner that reminded me of where I worked in Forks. We picked a booth by the window and sat down as a middle-aged waitress with blond hair and dark roots took our drink orders.

"What about Jasper?" I asked.

"I'll get him something to go," he mumbled.

"You're really sweet for taking care of him," I noted.

He shrugged. "Jasper's a good guy."

I fidgeted in my seat, tearing my straw wrapper apart with my fingers. I was anxious to hear his thoughts. Edward stared hard at the Coke that had been put in front of him.

"I used to come here all the time when I was a kid. They used to have amazing milkshakes." The smile on his face was sad and thoughtful. "At least I thought they did. Who knows? Any milkshake to a kid is delectable."

"What was your favorite kind?" I asked, grinning.

He licked his lips. "Strawberry."

"Mmm…mine too. I've learned how to make quite the milkshake at the diner I'm working at," I told him.

His expression hardened slightly. "Where are you going from here, Bella?"

I furrowed my brows. "What do you mean?"

"You aren't going to work at a diner the rest of your life. I mean, you want to write or work around literature, right?"

"I'm writing a little but for right now, I'm just trying to get my head on straight. The distraction of the diner is working for that." I paused, taking a sip of my water. "What about you? Where are you going from here?"

He leaned back, slumping against the vinyl of the booth. "I don't know. Betsy asked me to move down here with her for a while."

That was what she'd been talking about at Hospice when I'd come back from calling my dad. I was torn over whether it would be a good thing or not. Edward had family and it would be good for him to be around them, especially if he had made his peace with his dad. But I didn't want this to turn around into another martyr scenario for him. He needed to take care of himself for a change.

"Are you going to?"

He shrugged. "I told Jasper that he could come back to the city with me but if I don't go back…"

"Excuses, Edward," I challenged. "Think about yourself for a change. What do you want to do?"

His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at me, chewing on my question. "It would be difficult for me to find a job here."

"You dad owns his own business, right? I assume you guys…talked things over. I'm sure he'd make sure you got a job at his printing company." He looked down and started in on his own straw wrapper. "I'm not trying to convince you of anything, Edward. You need to do what's best for you and you alone, for a change. If staying here with your grandma is what's best, then so be it. Or if going back to Chicago will be the best thing, then go back. Just don't think about anyone else but yourself, can you promise me that?"

He swallowed heavily as his eyes hit hard against mine. "I can. I can promise you that."

I nodded once, sharply. "Okay then." I felt a little braver as I followed up with a question. "What did you and your dad talk about?" The straw wrapper that he gripped in his fingers was officially dead; torn to pieces. "You know, a really brilliant man told me once that you shouldn't let things fester inside; that it's like poison."

He narrowed an eye and smirked. "That's not fair; using my own advice against me."

I shrugged. "That's what you get for being so smart."

His grin fell and he looked pained.

"We can talk about it later if you want," I murmured, grabbing his hand and stilling the straw wrapper massacre for just a moment.

"Sure," he grumbled.

Our food came and we talked about simple topics as we ate: The weather, Rose and Emmett and some of my conversations with Leah. Edward seemed to like her just from what I'd told him about her; he told me that he was glad that I found her.

"You really do look incredible, Bella," Edward told me. "I'm not sure I'd recognize you if I passed you on the street."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't look that different."

His expression grew amused. "Yeah, ya do. You just don't see it."

Resting my elbows on the table, I tilted my head in thought. "What's so different about me?"

"I'm sure you know what's different about you."

"If I did, then I wouldn't ask."

He cleared his throat. "If you really want to know…"

Now he was starting to annoy me. "Yeah, I do."

"When I first met you, last year, you were a pretty girl. You had these big eyes, full of so much fear and your hair—"

"Hey, don't bring up the hair," I objected.

He chuckled. "But really, I took one look at you and I just got this overwhelming urge to just…protect you. You were so small and fragile and terrified of your own shadow. I remember watching you one day as I followed you to work."

"Stalker!"

Ignoring me, he continued, "Every little noise made you jump. Every time you'd see someone on the sidewalk, even on the opposite side of the street, you'd tuck into yourself as if you were just waiting for something to hurt you." He shook his head and closed his eyes. "You undid me back then."

"I was terrified," I explained.

"I know and all I wanted to do was make it better for you. Then…" He stopped himself and grazed his knuckles over the rough growth on his jaw.

"Then?"

"Then I started to get to know you and I saw what a good heart you had, how much of a fighter you were. You're a survivor, Bella. You always have been even if you didn't realize it."

I looked down at my lap, embarrassed at his compliment but knowing full well that he was right.

"Before, you were pretty and seemingly helpless and skittish; now, you're strong and independent and absolutely beautiful." I swallowed thickly, keeping the emotions I felt buried deep down inside until I could no longer breathe. Then I released a shaky sigh, my body itching to switch seats and bury myself under the crook of his arm. "You gained weight, your skin is glowing and your eyes, oh God, that's the best change of all. You look at everything like you're saying 'Bring it on!' with just a glimpse of those big brown eyes. You have fire in your gaze, Bella, and it's an absolutely breathtaking thing to see."

I looked up at him and met his own fiery gaze. "You're a survivor, too." He shot me an annoyed look before going back to his food. "I mean it. And I wouldn't be where I am today if it weren't for you, and Rose. But especially you."

He flung his napkin over his half-empty plate. "Are you about ready?"

I narrowed my eyes. "No, I'm not and you can't just sit there and throw out all this shit about me, then try and walk away when I want to do it to you. You need to hear this whether you want to or not."

With his hand, he made a "go on, then" gesture. "When I was ready to crawl into a corner and die, you taught me to fight. You taught me to believe in myself when all I saw when I looked in the mirror was some damaged little girl. If it weren't for you, there's a big possibility that I never would have made it back to Forks. All those over-protective tendencies you had for me took a little weight off my back, took away just enough of my fear so I was able to see just a little bit clearer. Do you think that I would have been brave enough to go to that club that night if you weren't with me? Do you think that I could have let anyone but you touch me?" He was quiet and watching me intently as I continued my rant. "If I hadn't met you, I don't think I ever would have trusted another man again. You showed me that I could be touched, and like it; you taught me that there was such a thing as comfort in a man's arms. Do you know how amazing that is?"

"Ready for your check, Sweetie?" The waitress had impeccable timing.

Her voice broke Edward out of his trance and he shook himself. "Uh, yeah, sure, thanks."

The ride home was silent, save an order Edward put in at a fast food restaurant for Jasper. When we got back to the motel, Edward told me that he was going for a walk and I didn't bother to ask him if he wanted company. He needed some time by himself and I couldn't blame him. Jasper was all smiles when presented with his double cheeseburger and french fries.

"Bella, you wanna hang with me and watch the tube? There's a Real World marathon on."

As I watched Edward's slumped form walk away with his hands stuffed in his pockets, the last thing I wanted to do was watch a bunch of spoiled kids fight over who didn't put a new roll of toilet paper on the dispenser. But one glance at Jasper's hopeful face made me change my mind. The guy had been here all day by himself and was probably itching for company.

Two hours into marathon, I was getting a little fed up over how one of the idiots in the house, Tanya, was treating some of the other girls. She actually peed on one of their toothbrushes because they'd called her promiscuous. I cringed as I watched the poor victim dig deep into their molars with the tainted brush.

"That's so wrong, dude!" Jasper shouted at the TV and then unsuccessfully tried to squelch a belch.

"It's horrible that they let this show go on," I told him. "These people are disgusting."

"It's entertaining," he pointed out.

I shrugged because he was right about that. "Edward told me that you're thinking of going back to Chicago with him."

His face lit up. "Yeah, that guy is so freaking awesome. He told me that I could stay with him as long as I needed to." His eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully. "I really need a job."

I swallowed, unsure if I was stepping over some boundary but I couldn't help myself. "What if Edward decides to stay here instead of going back?"

After a few minutes of chewing on my question, he shrugged and said, "I'd manage."

"How?"

"I always do, Sugar," he said with a huge grin.

With a sigh, I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and chewed. There was something about Jasper that screamed to me. He never asked for help, he didn't worry about how he was going to get by, but I wanted to help him.

"I'm going to go to bed," I mumbled, rising from the chair of his room. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jasper."

He popped up. "You're not going to find out what happens to Tanya? The dirty little pee incident goes public in the next episode."

I shook my head. "Just tell me what happens."

He grinned and nodded. "Night, Bella."

"Night."

As I walked out on the balcony, I noticed my rental was missing. After I momentarily panicked, I recalled Edward never giving me the keys back. Where had he gone? It worried me and I considered calling him on his cell but decided against it. He needed time to sort through all his thoughts from the day. We were set to leave tomorrow unless he decided to stay here instead—the thought made my chest hurt. It would be a long, lonely drive back to Chicago.

Or maybe not…

When I got settled in my room, I pulled out my phone again and called my dad. I didn't beat around the bush. I rambled out my question and waited for his reply with bated breath. This would be big for him and I'd understand if he said no but I had to try. After a few dozen questions and some difficult honest answers, he reluctantly agreed. I smiled graciously even though he couldn't see it and told him I'd see him in a few days. With a slightly annoyed sigh, he said his goodbyes and I grinned wildly at my phone as I snapped the picture to send him.

After I showered, got ready for bed and brushed my teeth, I grew bored. Sure, I was tired but there was still no sound coming from the room next door. Where the hell was Edward? I pulled up my hair and looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I sucked in my cheeks and made a supermodel face. I took my hair down. I turned on the TV and flipped through channels without even looking. I turned the TV off and lied back on my bed. There were only so many times I could count the number of petals on the flowers in each of the generic pictures hanging on the walls, so I walked back to the mirror in the bathroom. Edward had said that I'd gained weight but he said it was a good thing. With a tilted head I stood back and checked my figure out from the knees up. My hands ran over my fuller hips and the deeper curve in my waist. I turned sideways and lifted up my shirt, and tried to pinch fat on my stomach. It was a good thing, I decided because I felt more like myself, more like the Bella Swan who had muscles in her thighs and curves to her body; Charlie Swan's daughter.

Before I dropped my shirt, I caught a glimpse of the tip of the scar that covered my back; the scar that I tried to forget but couldn't quite push it out of my mind enough to make it a distant memory. Hesitating, I turned around so that I could see the full scale of it in the mirror. MINE, it read in a shade of pink torn skin. It never ceased to take my breath away; almost as if it were fake or brand new every time I saw it. I wondered if I could get a tattoo to cover it up and what I would get. It would have to be big like an elephant or a…

The sound of Edward's door opening broke me away from my thoughts. I dropped my shirt and sat down on my bed, watching the door. It was unlocked on my side so he could have just come in. I waited for a knock, his voice, anything to summon me to his room so that he could get it all out. He needed to get it all out. The floor creaked and I heard his TV come on. I frowned. I flipped mine on too just in case he did come in because he'd catch me staring at the door like a little lost puppy.

The Real World. Great. And to make matters worse, it was a rerun—the toothbrush hadn't even been peed on yet.

Edward's shower came on and I relaxed, not realizing until then just how tense I was. Ten minutes and a peed-on toothbrush later, the shower stopped and my body tensed again at the anticipation of a knock. Five minutes later, I was still waiting.

I put my ear up to his door. He was watching CNN. I cringed. Who wants to watch CNN? As I paced, I chewed on my nails until I had nothing left to chew on. I grew desperate for fingernail polish.

"Fuck it," I grumbled, pulling open my door.

My knock was soft and it took him a minute to reply. "Come in."

I filled my lungs with stale motel air and opened the door. When I walked in, Edward was sitting on his bed, shirtless and staring hard at the floor. The black ink on his chest glared at me, speaking in its own language of pain and memories. The tribal tattoo on his arm seemed bigger, more intense than it ever had before. His eyes were puffy and red and he was barefoot. And he'd gotten a haircut.

"Oh my," I whispered, "your hair is gone."

He ran a hand over his buzz cut and smirked up at me. "I thought I'd try a little Bella Swan therapy, you know, with the scissors and all."

I raised my eyebrows. "Did it work?"

"Probably as well as it did for you."

"I like it," I told him, sitting down next to him. "You look kind of badass."

He cut his eyes to me. "I didn't look badass before?"

I grinned at him and ran a hand down his back. Drops of water from his shower clung to his skin and my palm dampened as I passed over them. "Talk to me, Edward."

His swallow was audible. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Okay, where did you go tonight?"

"Just for a walk," he replied.

I quirked an eyebrow and said, "In the car?"

"Oh," he said, glancing at me, "you noticed the car was missing."

"Yeah, I did. What happened?"

He stood up and moved slowly around as if it was the first time he'd seen the room. "When I talked to my father today, he…he told me things about after the accident, things that I wasn't here for. Did you know that I didn't go to Alice's funeral?" I shook my head slowly. "They didn't waste time pressing charges on me but I wasn't in jail. They didn't arrest me until after she was buried but I felt too damn guilty to go, afraid that I'd get dirty looks from my family. I was too much of a coward to face it. My dad told me about her service as if it had happened yesterday—from the flowers to the color of dress she wore."

"Why would he do that?" I asked.

He looked at me oddly as if he didn't understand the question. "Because I asked him to."

"Oh."

"So, tonight I felt like I owed something to her; something that I hadn't been able to tell her at her funeral."

"You went to visit her grave?"

He nodded. "I needed to…" With his eyes clamped closed, he took several deep breaths before continuing. "I needed to tell her how sorry I was. I needed for her to know that I'm living every moment of my life trying to make up for what she lost even though it's not enough. It'll never be enough."

"What was Alice like?" I asked.

For a moment, he looked perplexed. "Well, she was…she was full of life and strong and beautiful and…" He picked some folded clothes off the floor and stuffed them in his duffel bag. "Alice always had a way of cheering you up even when you thought that the world was crashing down around you." He chuckled to himself and got lost in a memory, pausing in his packing duties. "When I was in high school, a pitch hit my throwing hand and it broke two of my fingers. I thought my baseball career was done for. But there was Alice with her words of wisdom—which were pretty good for a fourteen year old—and a tub of my favorite ice cream. We watched funny movies until my pain medication put me out for the night. I woke up the next day and just stopped feeling sorry for myself. It was so odd, the way she'd make people around her feel."

I smiled. "It sounds like she was a lovely person." His face grew grim as he started pushing stuff into his bag again. "What do you think she'd be like now?"

"Probably the same," he mumbled.

Here came the big question. "What do you think she'd say to you if she could reply to your apology tonight?"

He paused for a moment but then continued his hunt for things around his room to stuff into the bag. "How am I supposed to know that?"

"You knew her, Edward. What do you think she'd say if she saw how guilty you feel? Don't you think she'd feel guilty right back at ya?"

His eyes were furious when he turned to me. "I don't know that, Bella, because she's dead and I'm never going to know."

I caught the glimpse of a tear running down his cheek but I kept pressing, even if it cost me our friendship or a possible future with him. I loved him too much to let him go through life without facing this.

"You know what I think?" I stood up and crossed my arms over my chest in an effort to look persuasive. "I think you're too caught up in your selfish guilt to even think about how Alice would want you to live your life. You say that you're living your life for her? What kind of life is this, Edward? You reek of misery! You aren't happy unless you're wretchedly depressed or trying to make someone else's life better!"

He came at me with his hands folded into fists and his teeth gritted together. As much as my instincts told me to cower, I remained upright and facing him. His feet didn't stop until they were planted right in front of me, his eyes bearing down into mine and that passion blazing from his green irises.

"How am I supposed to be happy if Alice can't be? How can I go about my life with a smile on my face when she's in the ground because I put her there?"

"Did your dad forgive you?" I asked, swiping my own tear from my cheek. "Did he tell you that he was wrong for blaming you?"

His chest heaved with breath as he looked down at me. I was counting on an affirmative answer to my question and for a moment, I thought that his father had let me down. But then his gaze dropped and I knew I had him.

"Yes," he whispered.

"Then forgive yourself," I begged.

He plopped down on the bed; all the fight seemed to seep out of him in that one motion. "I can't."

I sat down beside him and turned my body toward his. "Let me help you, Edward."

His hand came up to my cheek, so tenderly and gentle that I leaned into the pressure of his touch. "I want you to."

I wasn't sure how it would help but I leaned in and kissed him. The comfort that his touch provided for me was astounding so I hoped that mine would be as effectual for him. My lips slowly brushed against his and my body moved closer to him, the magnetism between us was wild with need. He deepened the kiss as his fingers moved under the hem of my shirt, and over my bare skin. My senses sharpened and every breath, every touch, every heartbeat seemed exaggerated in my brain.

"Make me feel good, Edward," I whispered against his lips.

He groaned and pulled my shirt off, leaving me bare from the waist up. I didn't feel vulnerable or scared or flighty. I felt like I couldn't get enough; like my world would be turned upside down if this man, this beautiful man, didn't get closer. I ran my hand over the soft hair on his scalp and dug my fingernails into his neck, yanking him toward me.

"Bella…" His lips brushed my ear as he kissed down my neck. I shivered at the feel of his sweet breath entering into my pores and flooding me with new life. "I can't…"

"Shhh…Edward, don't think…just let it go, baby." It was his turn to shiver as my fingernails trailed up the scar on his side, the bulk of his shoulder, the soft skin under his ear. "I want you, Edward."

And I did. The desire and need clawed through me, making my toes curl and my center ache. To think of him on top of me, inside of me… I grinned against his skin at the image my mind was working up and I felt myself grow wet. For the first time, it seemed, I craved sex but not with just anyone. Only with Edward.

I stood in front of him, offering myself to him and he kissed my neck, my breast, my tummy as his hands gripped my hips. I leaned by head back, enjoying the feel of his soft warm lips on my sensitive skin and the heat that pulsed through my body. He rested his head on my stomach, his eyes cast to the floor, and inhaled deeply.

Something was wrong. He'd stopped. Nooo…nooo…noo…

His fingers dipped deeply into the flesh on my hips and I itched to pull them away. The memories of other hands bruising my flesh weren't fresh in my mind but they were still there—threatening to break free. I put my hands on top his, hesitantly preparing to pull them away when I felt it: The warm, wet tears running down the skin of my stomach. His shoulders shook with silent sobs. My heart shattered at the sight of my strong savior, crippled with sadness and culpability.

"Edward…" I whispered, running my palm over his head.

He tugged me toward him, wrapping his arms around my torso and buried his face in my torso. The sound of his voice was muffled when he spoke, "This used to be so easy, living like this. For years, I had a routine and...and things that I did to make living with myself just a little bit easier. I had Alice on my mind in every situation, every decision I made in my life because…because I wanted to live for her." I rubbed circles on his back with my hand as I fought the surge of emotion building up in me. "Then you came along and I started to think more about you than I did her. It ripped me apart inside."

"Is that why you wanted me to go back to Forks?" I asked softly.

"That was part of it. Also, I couldn't fathom you being able to heal around…around someone like me. I told you the truth that day: You deserved better."

"But now?"

He hesitated, the feel of his tears and warm breath on my skin giving me goose bumps. "Now, you're every good feeling, every good thought, and every possible hope that runs through my mind every day." He tilted his head back and looked up at me with tortured eyes. "You're like a lighthouse for me in the middle of a really big fucking storm. When I'm around you, even before you went back home, I feel like there's so much more to life than…this. You make me feel like the good guy when I've been the bad guy for so long."

The pain written all over his face was too much for me. I pushed him back and climbed on his lap, straddling his hips. His arms overlapped on my back and my bare breasts pushed against his chest. With both of my hands cupping his face, I said, "You do the same thing for me."

He shook his head. "I don't understand how I could possibly…"

"Forgive yourself, Edward," I whispered.

"I don't think I can," he said. "Not yet."

"Can you do something for me then?"

His eyes shifted around my face, looking at me as if he were seeing me for the first time. "Anything, Bella. I'll do anything for you."

"If you can't forgive yourself, can you at least allow yourself to be happy? Stop torturing yourself?"

One of his hands left my back and he ran it through my hair and over my tear-soaked cheek. "I'll try but it's not going to be easy."

"I'll help you," I told him.

The corners of his mouth twitched and he let out a deep breath. "I must have done something right for you to be sitting here, on my lap like this, and not giving up on me. You are a gorgeous creature, Bella Swan."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely. It was possible that he couldn't breathe but I wasn't going to let him go. I'd never felt so bonded to someone in my life like I felt with Edward. I wanted to make him laugh and be there when he cried. I wanted to hold his hand on walks through the park and make him dinner that would fill his empty belly. I wanted to kiss him and clutch onto him and make love to him until there was no obvious visual of where our naked bodies were entwined. I wanted…I wanted…

I'd hoped Leah was wrong when she told me that what I wanted and needed were most times, two separate things because I couldn't let Edward go. Not again.

A/N: So, Bella's boobies are all smooshed against Edward's bare chest. *SIGH* What's a girl to do? What did you think of Jasper's story? What about the big reunion? I know Edward is going to get a lot of hate for thinking about moving to Peoria with his Grandma but he needs closure. J/S. If you're upset about it, think about the whole Bella's-boobies-smooshing-on-Edward's-chest bit. See? That's better.

I watch Real World sometimes. So sue me. It's not like I enjoy it. *scoffs* I mean, sometimes I turn the TV on and then for some reason, the remote won't work (batteries or whatever) and The Real World is on and what choice do I have? I'm not going to actually get up and change the channel or anything. I mean, I might as well just watch it. Sometimes, my legs suddenly stop functioning so I'm forced to watch a whole fucking marathon to get caught up. Life is hard sometimes. ;)

And if you're wondering, we are on day six of being pacifier-less. He's doing so much better than I thought he would, although he's still having trouble sleeping. Thank you all SO kindly for the advice, encouragement, and been-there-done-that's. It's so nice to feel like I'm not alone! :)

See ya next Tuesday, folks!