Hi everyone. I am truly, truly sorry that this story hasn't been updated in so long. I am going to school full time, working part time and raising two kids. The characters keep talking to me, but it's hard to find time to write their words down. I am hoping that I will be able to publish 1-2 chapters a month...that's my goal. So bear with me. I think the story's worth it.

As a summary: Edward was invited to the home of Dr. Carlisle Cullen, and while there he stumbles upon an overgrown path. He is seen as an intruder by the land owner, and in the darkness and his inebriated state he is convinced that he saw Isabella. Upon waking, he realizes he was probably fooling himself, but nonetheless wants to apologize to the woman for wandering onto her property, if anything to find closure that it was indeed someone else. Edward finds out that the landowner was Isabella, and he was invited for dinner and hopes to get answers as to why, if she didn't die 12 years prior, she kept her death a secret. Edward discovers that a letter, that looks remarkably like his handwriting, was sent to her claiming that he wanted to end ties with her and marry Lauren Mallory. This was accompanied by a fake wedding invitation. At the end of the last chapter, Edward was trying to convince Bella that he never wrote the letter.

As always, Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight


BPOV

I found it so easy, and yet so difficult to look at him.

In many ways, he hadn't changed from the kind-hearted boy that had stolen my heart. His hair was still a chaos of auburn and brown, which he had obviously attempted to tame. It was a bit shorter now than it had been years ago, but still appeared rebellious to his attempts at civilizing it. His eyes were still a piercing mossy green, and too many times I had almost lost myself in them like I used to. It would have been so easy – and so dangerous – to do that again. As a young girl in my strange and overwhelming family situation, Edward had become a solace with whom I had been able to find reprieve from the world. When I was with him, nothing existed but him and me. That bubble, however, had proved to be fragile, and it had burst with devastating results. As much as I wanted to lose myself in his presence, I knew it was unwise. Even so, it took all of my self control to stop myself from running to him to inspect the wound on his head. I couldn't let myself do that, no matter how much I wanted to trace the patch of gauze on his temple, and brush the few strands of hair from that spot, just to touch it once more.

No. I couldn't let myself lose control like that. He was no longer mine to comfort.

Twelve years looked good on him, and I couldn't help but feel a spike of jealousy for the woman in his life. I still remembered how his arms felt around me, and now they only seemed broader, more muscular, and safer. His face appeared mature and more angular, and I noticed that his eyes looked older, and a little worn. Of course he did have a stressful job as Chief surgeon, I'm sure he worked many a long day and night for his position. I could tell that his jaw was set tight, and didn't seem to relax easily. He had a few fine lines around his mouth that accentuated the small frown that occupied his otherwise neutral expression.

Of course, I was in no position to analyze his neutral expression. Finding out your former fiancée wasn't dead after all had to have been a shock. Despite the letter he had sent, I knew he had to have cared for me at some point, and I knew he was a genuinely decent fellow. Only but a callous man would not feel something when an old flame died.

Wouldn't they?

He claims he knew nothing about the invitation, but I knew how these things worked. Mrs. Mallory may have jumped the gun, but I'm sure marriage had at least been mentioned. Perhaps Lauren and Edward had been discussing the possibility, and when he wrote the letter, someone had taken the opportunity to slip the invitation in.

Maybe he never meant to send the letter, but it was without a doubt that the letter was written by Edward.

The handwriting was a little shakier than I had remembered, but I can't imagine it was an easy thing to write. I always imagined his anxiety coming through as he wrote the letters. Perhaps he had been worried that I would come and find him. And, he wasn't a complete cad. It's never easy to break someone's heart, and but for his parting words to me – twice, in my presence and on paper - Edward had always been a gentleman.

As I saw him pore over the invitation before reading the letter, I allowed my mind to drift to the first time I had read it. Truthfully, I had read it so many times I could have recited it verbatim. The first time I had read it, along with many nights throughout the years in my darkest hours, I would read the same lines over and over, imagining what Edward was thinking when he wrote them:

July 5th, 1935

I sat in the dim, damp room and gazed out the small window which provided my only source of light. A bare bulb hung from the center of the room, but the harsh light had only aggravated my eyes that were still puffy and bloodshot from crying. I had cried for hours after being place in solitary, until Sister Anthony came in and say with me, reminding me that my emotions were not good for the pregnancy.

For the babies, I thought. Though the good sister would never have said it like that.

I wonder if she knew the truth. No one had said it out loud, and I certainly wouldn't. I wouldn't repeat what I wasn't supposed to know.

My hands fluttered up to what was left of my hair. My long, brown locks had been shorn off into a rough, haphazard haircut that was just a breadth longer than an army crewcut, with uneven ends. Jane had almost looked euphoric when Aro asked that my hair be cut off, so that no one would hire me again, and everyone would see me as the risk that I was, rather than taking me in as a charity case. Jane said that I looked, "positively psychotic", and that no one would dare come within an arm's reach of me. My fingers traced down to my neck and winced as they came into contact with the cuts and scrapes that had been made on my neck.

The door suddenly rattled and I heard a jingle of keys. That could only be Jane. After she had butchered my hair as she did, my first instinct was to cower in the corner of the bed like a frightened animal, but I resisted. Instead, I sat up straight and looked her in the eye as she swung open the door.

The look in her eyes was like no other. Jane had never before looked happy. Beyond whatever emotion was bubbling up, she always looked vengeful and malicious. Had I been in a better state, I may have tried to figure out why she looked the way she did, but in the moment, I could only cope with holding her gaze.

Tonight, her eyes held a strange brew of anger and victory. Her mouth was set in its typical grim line, albeit a bit more smug than usual. From behind her back she produced a white envelope, which she threw beside me on the bed. Like the letters that I had seen other girls receive, it had already been opened, and presumably read.

Looking at me in disdain, she sneered, "you know, you're much better off having been captured, Isabella. Really, if you had managed to escape, where do you think you would have gone?"

Edward. My heart told me. But even I didn't completely believe that. What with his parting words to me in the garden, his lack of communication, and Mrs. Mallory's unsettling news, what made me think he would have wanted me?

But I knew that beyond anything else, he wouldn't have wanted me to be treated like this. Would he be able to look at me though? He wanted me sent away; he told me so. He didn't want me the way I was, how could he have possibly wanted me now? My hand reached up to my shorn locks once more, and I heard Jane cackle as she backed out of the doorway and locked the door once more.

Eyeing the envelope on the bed, I turned it over and gasped.

The return address was for an "E. A. Masen", at Edward's home address. The script was feminine, but that didn't mean anything. The day staff regularly sent along mail for the members of the household, and it wasn't unusual for them to address an envelope.

I ran my hands along the edge of the envelope, noting the smooth texture of the paper. I realized I was buying time, but for what? I was only postponing the inevitable. I sucked in as deep a breath as I could, and I pulled out the paper that lay within.

On top, I found two sheets of stationary folded twice. Underneath was an invitation. Flipping the heavy paper over in my hand, my heart ceased to beat as it plummeted into my stomach. There it was, right before me. Proof that Mrs. Mallory wasn't just scaring away a troublesome girlfriend so her own daughter could have an upper hand. No, it was true. Edward and Lauren were to be married.

I rubbed the remaining two sheets between my thumb and forefinger. I wasn't sure I wanted to read them. What would they tell me? Unless the letter said "April fool's", I didn't think I wanted an explanation. Did I deserve one? I wasn't sure about that either. I was the daughter of a lumber worker, cast into a life I hadn't bargained for, and I came out in love with one of the most sought after boys from a world that had rejected me.

I folded the letter up, and place it back in the envelope along with the invitation, where it promptly found a home in the pocket of my summer coat.

It was a funny thing to be punished in this way. Although my mind was going crazy from boredom and lack of human contact, my body slowly began to feel a bit stronger. No longer was it required to complete the task of two maids and waitress. Although I hadn't been working in the laundries for a few months, my tasks had not decreased. Over the past few weeks I had found it more and more important to stop and take small breaks while no one was looking. Of course, Dr. Aro always told me to take it easy and not overwork myself, but he was hardly around when I was working. Instead, Jane would keep an eagle eye on me, and I was the only girl with whom she would reduce lunch portions if we were seen taking unscheduled breaks. Like I had mentioned before, I hadn't ever seen her happy, though I had seen her look victorious on many occasions.

While I was in 'confinement' for trying to run away, Sister Anthony was in charge of bringing me my meals. After breakfast I would spend the morning tidying my small room, if not for anything else to do, and after lunch I would gaze out the small barred window, or read from the bible that had been placed in the room. After a few days, I asked if there were any chores I could help out with during confinement, and the Sister was kind enough to bring me a pile of clothing that needed mending.

It still wasn't enough to being my thoughts from the letter that I hadn't read.

The nights were the most painful. When my lights had been turned out, there was nothing for me to do but lie in bed and think about the past year of my life. At Christmas time, I thought that life couldn't get any better, and I supposed I was right. Life had only gotten worse and it obvious that I wasn't meant to have all that had been handed to me. As the tears fell onto my pillow, soaking it nightly, I ran the gamut of emotions, toward myself, toward Edward, toward the world.

I missed him, but I didn't even know if that version of Edward existed anymore. Where did the boy I loved go? Nothing made sense. He was never under any obligation to court me, marry me, and be intimate with me. He could have had Lauren long before I ever moved to Seattle, but he had never wanted her, at least not until now. What made him change? What made his love for me fade so quickly and thoroughly that he would instead give it to the girl who had made my life most difficult.

I was angry at him. He knew how she had treated me. He could have had any girl he wanted, and yet he chose her. None of this made sense. He didn't make sense. I wanted answers, and I fought every night to not open the letter, because I didn't want my worst nightmare to be confirmed.

After five days, I couldn't take it. I opened the letter. Two thin sheets of stationary that I knew too well fell into my hands.

When Edward claimed he knew nothing of the marriage, I could only fume in anger, before calming down to a quiet rage, trying to determine his motive in lying to me. Why, how could he deny it?

But after I handed him the letter and invitation, I couldn't help but believe him. Not only did he deny writing it, but the confusion and utter shock was written in every movement he made, and in each facial expression that was more bewildered than the last.

I gave him space to read the letter. I watched his skin turn pale, and at first I thought that he was caught in a lie. Perhaps he didn't mean to send it? But no, his face didn't match that emotion. I watched his forehead crease in confusion as his fingers traced over lines, and then repeated the motion, as though there were complete sentences he didn't comprehend. It wasn't a long or complicated letter. It simply restated what he told me in the garden, and then informed me that he had found a "suitable match" with Miss Mallory, and they were to marry that very month.

I watched as his breath hitched every so often, and when he would huff out small breaths of air. His hand combed through his hair more times than I could count, so I knew he was agitated. Still, I couldn't place his demeanour. Perhaps he felt guilty for the brusque explanation he had given in the letter?

Eventually I gave up waiting for him to respond. I cleared the table, poured us each a second cup of tea and then tidied the tea service, and still he had not moved. His eyes bounced from one sheet of paper to another which he held in both hands, and his lips moved silently as he read a long – paused – and then read another portion of the letter. It was so strange. Perhaps he had forgotten what he had written.

Finally I couldn't take it anymore and I started to call to him. After my voice started to rise and I jostled the table a little, he looked up, still speechless and hardly able to get a word out, until he forced himself to blurt out in a rambling sort of way, that he had no recollection of writing the letter whatsoever. As he carried on, I saw the tension coming back into his voice. His hands started to shake and his voice held a tremor, and he began to repeat sentences, and after he pounded the table, I knew in my heart without a doubt. Edward Masen did not remember writing that letter.

My mind was moving too fast at the moment to fully consider how he could forget such a thing, but I chose not to pursue that avenue with him on that evening. In the last 24 hours he'd already seen the end of my shotgun, suffered from a head trauma, found out that I, in fact, had not died all those years ago, and he was now presented with a letter of which he had no recollection. I could see how that might be too much for a human being in one day, so I decided to move on.

Sighing, I watched his eyes soften, and I allowed my shoulders to relax. I could do nothing at that point but speak from the heart, as much as I allowed myself to do so. There were many, many things I could never reveal to him, but I couldn't dwell on them. Instead I decided to tuck them into a hidden place inside of me, to think of later.

As much as I was determined to talk about my children, I knew that now was not the time. I could hear Alice's words ringing in my head, and I imagined her small and alone, thinking of a faceless Mr. Porter who was her father. I didn't want that for my twins, but I knew that now was not the time to tell Edward of my children's' paternity. Instead I realized that although he couldn't put my mind at ease about his engagement, I could try and explain a little about my circumstances that led me to Jacob.

Clearing my throat, I began, "I want you to know…that I had no intention of marrying anyone else, even after I received that letter." I saw Edward's hands curl into fists on the table, and I waited. Eventually he looked at me and when I saw that he was relaxed, I continued.

"As of yet, I haven't really explained the circumstances that brought me here, and really I don't think that it's best I explain them right now." Remembering that he would be returning to New York I offered, "Perhaps I can pen them in a letter, since you'll be leaving soon, but I can understand that you may be exhausted." Edward's lips frowned slightly, but he nodded, dipping his eyes to inspect his fingers.

I looked down and inspected my own as I continued, though I quickly hid them under the table. Not in many, many years have I noticed how rough my hands were, or how jagged my cuticles looked. But I carried on with my story. "As I was saying, I was in a bit of a desperate situation, and I had been given a lift up to these parts. I had been dropped of in Bennington, and at the time I was in need of some help. Someone in town had given me the address of Dr. Cullen, said he was of a charitable nature, so I hoped he could offer me a bed for a night or two until I was able to move on."

That was a rough version of the truth. In reality, someone had seen my protruding belly and pointed me to the only mother's home in the area.

"So I started walking here-"

"Walking?" Edward asked

"Well, yes I hadn't the funds and my ride was staying so I had to find a place to sleep somehow."

"Why didn't you have the funds, I would have thought you would have some, what with Judge Dwyer – why it's nearly 10 miles from Bennington to here!"

I put up a hand, "Those funds were, not available at the time. In any case, I made the walk. Let me finish" I admonished lightly, with a smirk. I couldn't divulge to Edward why I had no money, and I was grateful when my gently teasing resulted in a lopsided smirk from him. How I missed that smile…

"Anyway," I continued, "I was on my way here when it began to rain quite badly. The sky darkened much quicker than I had anticipated. I walked and walked and I was starting to chill and to put it bluntly, I was just plain terrified. I was out in the woods on my own, no idea where I was going, and I didn't even know that I had accidentally passed that darned hidden laneway that nearly crowded out with trees!" Edward chuckled, and I realized that my hands had begun flailing. My face reddened but he confirmed that he felt the same way about the laneway.

"I felt literally and proverbially lost, Edward," I said quietly. "I was even considering just crawling up in a ditch or under a tree and sleeping there the night. But just as I thought I couldn't walk any longer, I saw a lantern from aways so I thought I'd follow it.

"It turned out that I had walked a bit too far, and I'd ended up at this very farm. The lantern belonged to the son of the farmer, who had gone to the barn and checked on the horses. There were a few who got spooked in storms, so he was out making sure that everything was secure and all that. By the time he was headed back from the barn, I had made close enough to call for him.

"He didn't hesitate to invite me in. I met his father, Billy, who also saw me that first day and from the moment I met these folks, Edward, I was welcomed. I needed a place to stay, so they let me stay for room and board." I took a deep breath to prepare the next statement. Edward had not spoken of my marriage in a kindly manner, and I was little nervous to move on.

"The son, whom I met out in the barnyard Edward, that was to be my future husband, Jacob."

With that, Edward jumped from the table and began to pace. I saw that his knuckles had turned white and his jaw was clenched. And his eyes were cold and hard, "So that's what it was like, was it?" He turned to me, accusing, "You had to run away so you just jumped into the arms of the first man who was kind to you, never mind me?"

"You were going to be married, what could I have expected from you?"

"I was notgoing to be married. I told you I didn't write that!"

"How was I supposed to know that? What was I supposed to do, hitchhike my way across the country while being chased, to get help from the boy who dumped me for the girl who had made my life miserable for years? How would I have expected that to work out?" I was now standing as well, with my hands on my hip, and with each intake of breath I could feel my nostrils flare.

Edward sighed, but I could tell the fight hadn't left him, "I would have helped you. You think I'm callous because you thought I was engaged, but here you are, you really got married, to some farmer you knew for less than a month. For what? Because you got in trouble at school? Because you were afraid of being expelled? Punished? What?" Edward pulled at his hair, "This makes no sense, why would you run away, were you trying to get back at me, did you think it would punish me to fake your death?"

My anger flared as I saw him standing in front of me. The audacity to think that I would run from some place into the unknown, marry a man I barely knew and take on the life of a farmer's wife to punish him? "That, Edward Masen is by far one of the most egotistical assumptions I have heard in a very long time." He paused at that, his mouth gaped and his eyes focused on my finger that was pointing at his. I briefly considered that no one in a long time had dared speak to Dr. Edward Masen in such a manner, and I decided that he was long overdue for a lecture. "Do you think I would do all that, including fake my own death and marry someone to punish you? Really? Is that the kind of person I was?"

"I don't know!" he exclaimed, "None of this is sensible, maybe you were that kind of person! What made you so angry to run off and do that?"

"I wasn't angry, I was desperate!"

"Please, of what? Expulsion? Were you embarrassed by this fake letter? What was it, because surely something must had made you jump in that man's bed-"

"Believe me, there was no jumping, nor was there anything needing a bed when that marriage happened," I scoffed, and then I stopped. I realized I had revealed more than I had wanted.

But it didn't matter. Edward's eyes were no longer trained on me anymore, nor was he listening to me. While I had been ranting, Edward had turned his back to me, and seen a photo that I had neglected to take down. It was a small photo; on a shelf that Jacob had built that housed wedding photo, a picture of Sarah when she was christened, and another one of Jacob and me holding the twins as newborns. It was taken on September 29th in 1935. The date was neatly penciled into the bottom.

Edward slowly turned around to me, and I knew that he knew. I knew he had seen the date and connected the dots. And I didn't know what to feel. It wasn't quite shame, as much as nerves. I felt out of control, as I didn't know what would happen from here.

So, I squared my shoulders and I did what the only thing I could. I told him the truth.

"I didn't run off because of you. Yes, your letter said you were engaged to be married, and it seemed clear to me that I was no longer a part of your life. But that wasn't it. I ran off because I was unwed, and pregnant, and my children were going to be taken from me. I ran off to save them and the only part of you that I had left. My two eldest children are yours, Edward."

And then I feared Edward would suffer another blow to the head in less than 1 day, as his knees crumpled and he passed out on my floor.