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Bella couldn't explain why in that moment everything in her life made sense, even if she was crying. Her Grace had been taken away from her before she could live — really live, but a huge part of her knew that Edward's Lizzie was taking care of her for Bella. How she longed to hold her in her arms just once, to feel the slow, steady beating of her heart, to look into her eyes and tell her how much she was loved.

"She'd be almost ten years old. I always imagined her with my dark hair and Carlisle's big blue eyes. I used to think he took her from me as punishment, because I had been a bad daughter and I deserved everything he had done to me."

"Do you still think that?" Edward asked and a moment later, she felt him kneel next to her, his arm wrapping around her back.

"No," she whimpered. "I think my father let his anger get the best of him and I was in the way. She was in the way, but I didn't do anything to deserve being beaten like I was. I was a little girl, Edward. Maybe a part of him really did love me, but a part of him hated me, too. He could have let me go, let Lottie and Peter raise me, give me to a dozen other families, but he didn't because a part of him wanted to hurt me and that is not my fault."

"No, it's not," he murmured, and she felt him press his lips against the side of her head. "Knowing about Grace just confirms to me that Lizzie brought you to me."

Bella laughed through her tears as she looked over at him. "I'll give you a minute alone with her, okay?"

"Thanks," he whispered.

While Edward knelt in front of his wife's headstone, Bella walked over to her mothers, squatting in front of the granite headstone. She dragged her fingers over the letters, her tears spilling down her face.

"Mom, I wish I had had a chance to know you. To really know you. Maybe life would have been better. Maybe he wouldn't have hurt me, taken his anger out on me. I love you, Mom, and I will always love you. Goodbye, Mom."

She kissed her fingers before placing them on the front of the headstone and as she stood and turned around, she saw Edward leaning against the front of his truck, watching her, waiting for her. She smiled as she ran over and stood in front of him, placing her hands on his hips.

"Are you ready?"

Edward grinned, his hands coming up to cup her face. "I'm ready, sweetheart. I love you."

"I love you, too."

—You—

When they arrived at Clearwater's Funeral Home, Bella was surprised to find Sam Uley's Sheriff's truck parked out from, though she shouldn't have been. He would have known that she would stop by at some point, finalize her father's arrangements, and he wanted to talk to her, to make peace, if there was such a thing. While Bella was already exhausted — emotionally, mentally, and physically — she knew Sam Uley was one more part of her life that she needed to tidy up, so to speak.

She and Edward shared a look before they climbed out and headed inside, finding Sam sitting inside Leah's office with her. Leah threw her husband a look before she stood up and walked around the desk, opening her arms to Bella, who gave her an awkward hug.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but we both know that would be a load of bullshit."

Bella smiled. "Thanks." She shifted her eyes back to Sam. "What are you doing here?"

"You know what I'm doing here," he said, frowning as he stood up and shifting from one foot to the other. "Figured you'd be here sooner or later."

Bella nodded. "I got the flowers from the department."

Sam snorted. "For the record, I didn't authorize them. Jessica Stanley thought they were needed. I didn't find out until afterward."

"Sounds like Jessica Stanley," Bella quipped, leaning against Edward. "I'm not mad at you, Sam. You . . . Hell, you weren't much older than I was when everything went down. You were always kind of a dick, anyway, so . . ."

Sam laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, I know, but I kind of had a crush. I guess I didn't know how to tell you how I felt, so it was easier to be an asshole."

"Gross," she giggled, releasing Edward's hands and reaching for Sam's, who sniffed back his tears as he wrapped his fingers around hers. "It's not your fault, Sam, that my father abused me. I wish . . . I wish you'd done more. I wish a lot of people had done more, but in the end, Charlie Swan is the only person responsible for what he did to me. Just promise me that if you ever find yourself facing another father like him, you will fight for that kid, because nobody should be told they're ugly or stupid or unwanted by anyone."

"I promise," Sam whimpered, pulling her into his arms and kissing the side of her head. "I'm happy that you have Edward, Bella. You deserve to be loved."

"Thanks," she whispered.

"I've gotta head out." Sam stepped backward, his eyes landing on Edward. "I'm sure the Cullen boys have already threatened you, but if you hurt her, I'll kill you."

"Duly noted, Uley," Edward quipped, stepping up behind her, and placing his hands on her hips. "If you ever come near her again, I'll kick your ass."

Sam gave him a look before he hurried past them and once they heard the door close, Leah burst out laughing. "Sorry, I haven't seen my husband move that fast in a long time."

"Glad we could help." Bella scoffed. "You know why I'm here, don't you?"

"I do," she said, motioning for them to have a seat before she walked around her desk and settled in her chair. "As I already told you, he has everything already planned out. He did not want a funeral, or any type of memorial service."

"He didn't?" she asked.

Leah shook her head. "He said he didn't deserve to be honored or remembered in any type of way. I didn't disagree with him. He will be buried in the plot next to your mother in a couple days. And really, that's all there is to worry about."

"That's it? They just dig a hole and drop him inside?"

"Pretty much," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "I've already started all the needed paperwork. He may have been a real bastard, Bella, but he didn't want you burdened with his death."

Bella stood up. "He'll always be my burden, Leah."

—You—

What Bella wasn't ready for, though, was dealing with Tyler Crowley and the Traymore. She wanted to pack her bags and leave town with Edward, see the world and start their life together, but she knew they couldn't do that until she settled everything that surrounded her father, which meant dealing with his will. Not that she cared about anything he may have left behind for her. He could never make up for the Hell he put her through.

"I was thinking we should start our trip in Hawaii."

Bella laughed. "Why Hawaii?"

"Just thinking about you in a bikini," he replied with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes. "Is that so?"

"Yep."

"Okay, if you insist on taking me on a tropical vacation, then who am I to object."

"We can stay out here a little longer, if you don't want to go inside."

"I don't," she admitted. "But I want to get it done with, too. I don't know, Edward, I want to be free of him."

"Then let's go. We have a world to see."

Edward climbed out and was opening the door for her before she could as much as get her seatbelt off. She climbed out of his truck, placing her hands on his hips as she leaned her forehead against his chest.

"I want to take you to Paris, too."

"Okay, why Paris?" Edward asked.

"Because Paris is home to some of the most amazing museums in the world, filled with the most iconic pieces of art ever created. It's always been a dream of mine to see them. I want to share that with you."

"Then Paris is definitely going on the list. Just so I can see that look on your face again."

"What look?" she questioned with a laugh.

"The euphoria that fills your face when you talk about art. It's erotic."

Bella's mouth opened in shock. "You think it's erotic when I talk about art?"

"Very erotic."

"Oh, okay, then I will definitely make it a point to talk more about art then."

Edward inhaled a sharp breath before he took a step backward. "Let's go inside before I put you back inside my truck and take you back to my house and have my way with you."

"I'm not stopping you," she challenged, raising an eyebrow.

Edward narrowed his eyes. "Damn, woman, you're making it very hard for me to be a gentleman."

"How hard?" she asked, and when he groaned, she laughed and said, "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I'll behave."

"I highly doubt that," he scoffed, sliding his arm around her waist and leading her to the front door of the Traymore.

While she wanted nothing more than to go back to the big blue house on Manhattan Road and spend the rest of the day in his bed, they were never going to be able to move on if she was always running away. It was time to grow up, she told herself.

Tyler was waiting for them inside the lobby of the Traymore with Mike Newton. Both men looked at her with sorrow and grief, or maybe it more pity than anything else. Mike Newton had already confirmed that he'd known what her father was doing. Like so many in the small, Texas town she'd been raised in, he chose to look the other way instead of helping her.

"Miss . . . I'm sorry, Bella, for your loss," Tyler said, reaching out and placing his hand on her arm awkwardly.

"Thanks," she said, shrugging his touch off. "You told Edward you had some papers for me, or something."

"Yes, if you'll follow us," he said, gesturing toward a large conference room next to Mike's office.

Bella tightened her grip on Edward's hand as they followed the two men into the room, sitting on the opposite side of the table. Tyler laid a thick manila folder on top before opening it and lifting one of the papers.

"The first is the final bill from your father's care. Everything was covered by his insurance, but you may need it to claim any type of life insurance that he had."

"Thanks," she murmured, not reaching for the paper. He sighed and turned it over before he picked up the next one, which was several pages thick.

"This is your father's will, Bella. He left you everything, of course. His houses, his belongings. He made a special note that if you preferred, we," he said, motioning to him and Mike, "can hire a cleaning crew for the house. Given the nature of your relationship with him, he assumed you wouldn't want to handle that part of his estate."

"He wasn't wrong," she quipped.

"He also left you this," Tyler said, picking up a small white envelope and sliding it across the table.

Bella hesitated before she reached over and picked it up. "What is it?"

"A check for two million dollars," he said.

"What?" she asked dropping it on the table and standing up so fast her chair flew back and hit the wall behind her. "Did you just say two million dollars?"

"I did," he said, nodding. "There's a note inside with more details, but he . . . your father wanted to establish a scholarship fund to support local artists in your community. He spoke often about your work, Bella."

"He did?"

Tyler nodded. "He was very proud of you for following your dreams."

Bella shook her head. "Is that what he told you? That I left town to follow my dreams?"

"No," he replied. "He said you ran away from him because he was horrible father, and by some grace of God, you freed yourself from him. He spoke often about the things he did to you, Bella. He was . . . he was filled with regret."

"Is that why he had you call me when he got sick?"

Tyler and Mike shared a look. "He begged us not to call you," Tyler said, quietly. "Until the end, at least. By then he . . . he was desperate to make things right with you, I think, but in the beginning, he said you weren't his burden anymore, Bella. I just . . . I didn't want you to miss out on the chance to tell him how you felt, I guess."

Tears flooded her eyes as she shook her head, biting the inside of her lip as she moved and sat back down in her chair. She could feel her hands shaking, her heart racing as she scooted her chair up and picked up the small, white envelope.

"You didn't know the Charlie Swan I did," she whispered, her eyes closing. "You got to know the man full of regret and heartache, loss and guilt. I got the mean Charlie. The one who beat me endlessly for eighteen years, so don't sit there and tell me this was my chance to tell him how I felt. You have no idea how hard it was to even be in the same room with him again."

"I have an idea," Tyler replied, and when she looked up at him. "Let's just say I never got to my father to go to Hell. I'm glad you did."

Tyler stood up and walked out of the room, with Mike following closely. He grabbed the man by the shoulder, stopping him. They spoke softly before looking back at her. In a move that both surprised her and comforted her, they leaned toward one another and kissed. Maybe there was more to Mike Newton and Tyler Crowley than meets the eye, so to speak.

"Are you okay?"

Sighing, she looked over at Edward. "No."

He reached over and picked up the envelope. "May I open it?"

Bella nodded and watched as he slowly, carefully peeled the back up. He removed the check and held it out to her before slipping the single piece of paper out and unfolding it.

"You should read this," he said, shifting his eyes from the letter to her.

"I should?"

"You should."

Though she figured it was just another letter trying to excuse his behavior, she found herself taking it from him. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a slow, deep breath before her eyes opened and she began to read the letter.

"In honor of the strongest, bravest woman in my life, it is my request that this money goes toward a scholarship fund in the name of her daughter," she whispered. "Fighting for your own survival is the hardest battle you will face. You won, Bella. You survived, and I hope that you will continue to fight for love and happiness." She laid the letter on the table and picked up the check. "This is blood money. He thought he could buy me off, buy my forgiveness, but he can't." She shook her head and looked at him. "I'm going to take this money and donate half to help fund breast cancer research, in honor of Lizzie, and then I am going to donate the other half to, I don't know, organizations that help prevent child abuse."

"Are you sure, Bella?" he asked. "That's a lot of money that you could use for your art, for other artist."

"No, no, I don't want his money. I don't need his money," she added, placing the check on the table as she turned and grabbed his hands. "My sweet little Grace never got the chance to find her dreams, and Lizzie was taken long before she should have been. I want to help the Grace's and the Lizzie's out there, Edward."

"If you're sure, I'll support you anyway I can, sweetheart." Leaning forward, he pressed his lips against hers. "Can I take you home now?"

Bella smiled. "I want nothing more than to go home with you."

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