. . . . .

It was a beautiful day and I had slept in late yet again. The night had been warm, so I'd left my window open. The birds finally woke me at quarter to eleven. Charlie had left a note that he'd gone fishing with Harry Clearwater, so I let the shower run much longer than he would have allowed. The steam was thick and cloud-like, and my voice echoed off of the shower walls as I sang.

I shaved my legs, deep conditioned my hair, let a thick mud mask sit on my face and soaped up twice with raspberry body wash.

I wrapped my hair in a towel and tied another around me, securing just under my arms. I padded back to my room, humming my favorite song. This was going to be another good day spent doing whatever I wanted. I smiled, enjoying the third week of my selfish foray into singledom.

Before I stepped through the open door, I saw it.

A huge bouquet of flowers on my desk. Fragrant and spilling over the massive vase, they covered the entire top of my desk, crowding out books and papers.

I peeked into the room, half expecting to see Edward or Jacob. But I was alone. The window was still open, and I wondered how either of them had managed to get in with the bouquet.

A tiny white envelope rested next to a huge orange-red lily, and I picked it up. The note inside was written in a script I didn't recognize.

I miss you.

I squinted at the card again, turning it over in my hand.

No signature, no identifying mark. The florist must have written the message, so the handwriting was no clue at all.

Which one had brought them? Whom should I thank? To whom should I definitely not mention them? And how did I even feel about one of them dropping in on me despite my requests to be left alone with my thoughts?

I sighed and sat down on the edge of my bed, the card still in my hand. The breeze blew in through the window, warm and soft. I half-wished whoever had brought the flowers would pop back through the window to take the credit, and simultaneously half-regretted that this was a clear signal that my me-time had probably extended too long. I tipped back onto my bed and pulled the towel off of my head.

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine which of my admirers had been so thoughtful and intrusive.

. . . . .

I heard a tap at the window and I sat up quickly, realizing I was still only wearing my bath towel.

Edward smiled in at me, perched half-in, half-out.

"Sorry to disturb you. I thought I was supposed to come over to work on the persuasive speech, but no one answered the door… so I came up here, and saw you. I wasn't sure if you were sleeping or not." He fumbled for words, not sure if I'd be mad at him for the intrusion.

I tugged at the bottom edge of the towel, pulling it a half-inch lower on my thigh and pretending that was modest enough. Edward was my boyfriend, after all.

"I'm not sure, either," I smiled. "There was such a nice breeze coming in the window…"

My eyes traveled over to the mass of flowers. He wasn't looking at them, and I wasn't sure if that was because he'd already seen them—and delivered them—or because he knew they'd come from Jacob.

"Um, why don't you come in? I'll get dressed and meet you in the kitchen."

He unfurled his long legs, stepping into my room. He started to walk toward me, then balked. I didn't reach for him, and he changed direction and moved toward the door. "See you in a few minutes."

I sunk down on the bed after he'd shut the door behind him. I wished that I was happier to see him, but I'd seen him in school during our break, so maybe it wasn't all that strange that my heart just didn't leap like it used to. And, I decided, I was sort of disappointed that my self-vacation was at an end. I knew it was time to come back to the real world and make some grown up decisions, but I wasn't quite ready for my me-time to end.

I slung my book bag down on the floor of the kitchen and dropped into the chair. Edward must have stashed his backpack on the front step, because he already had all of our persuasive speech resources spread out on the table.

We tried to focus on the task at hand, but there were too many unsaid words. Edward broke the tension by grabbing for my hand.

"Bella, listen, I'm not upset about you taking some time for yourself, you know that—right? You can always take all the time you need with me."

I sighed and set down my pen.

"I know, Edward. It's just been so hard to explain… all of these feelings." I looked up at him, and saw the hurt in his eyes. "It's nothing you've done or haven't done. I'm just struggling right now with everything. It's like… like I'm not quite ready to grow up and make these decisions yet, but I know that it's time."

"What are you saying?" His tone was careful and I could tell he was looking a bit to my left rather than straight at me. I was glad for the reprieve. I could barely meet his glance.

"I'm not sure, Edward. I mean, I know it's time for me to stop avoiding you. And Jake. It's time to face up to what I've done and how I feel. The problem is…"

He took an unnecessary breath to steady himself.

"The problem is that I just don't know how I feel."

"Wasn't this break supposed to help you with that?" He looked hurt and somewhat surprised. I wondered if that was because I hadn't yet made up my mind, or because I wasn't breaking up with him on the spot.

"Yeah, it was. And it did, I guess." I paused, not sure how to say it. And then I just did. "It made me realize that I don't really need either of you."

Edward's eyes jolted back to mine. "Either of us?"

"No. I'm fine on my own. I can survive without you to protect me. I can breathe without Jacob there as a safety blanket. I don't get lost on my way to or home from school if I don't have a chaperone. I think it's taught me that I'm better on my own than I thought I was. And that was a lesson I needed to learn. After James, and then Victoria and the whole newborns thing, I think I'd become afraid of my own shadow. It took a little bit of alone time to realize that I'm strong and capable."

Edward smiled and nodded, but his eyes stayed tight. "You are strong and capable, Bella. But don't be foolish. There are so many dangers out there, and you're not exactly disaster-resistant."

I knew what he meant, but this was exactly the kind of thing I'd liked being away from during the past three weeks. His constant patronizing and sophistic reasoning: that I was a danger to myself and needed protection. It was true, in a way, but I was also independent and competent. I wasn't a child, but Edward seemed to always see me as one.

. . . . .

Jacob, on the other hand, didn't require a big explanation of me. He was simply thrilled to see me when I poked my head in the door of his garage.

"Bells!" He was ecstatic and practically tripped over a box of motorcycle parts in his hurry to reach me.

I laughed and reached to steady him. "Wow! I go away for a couple of weeks and you become infected with my clumsy-disease."

He laughed and pulled me in for a tight hug.

"So, was it the flowers that made you decide to break your fast?" He gave me the crooked smile that always melted my heart and my resolve, and any trace of annoyance about the intrusion dissolved.

"Were those from you?" I smiled up at him, and realized I'd unconsciously batted my eyelashes.

"Yeah," he backed away a little and shrugged. "I wasn't sure if you'd be mad, but I really missed you and wanted you to know."

"But you didn't put your name on them…"

He smiled again and looked at the floor. "I was kind of hoping that if you were mad you'd think they were from Cullen."

I laughed and lightly punched his arm; he grabbed my hand and spun me toward him, enveloping me again next to his warm chest.

"Let's not ever be apart for that long again, ok?"

I grinned and took a long, deep breath of him. "Ok."

. . . . .