AN: WOW, the response to last chapter was overwhelming. Thank you so much!
I've decided to split the next chapter in smaller parts in order to get it out to you faster. So if this seems short, bear with me. There is more and I hope to be able to post it shortly.
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This wasn't happening, couldn't be happening…Not like this…It wasn't supposed to happen like this! Not now, not here, not happening, not happening… How did this happen?

So many thoughts swam through Bella's mind as she struggled in vain to cover herself up with the wash cloth-sized towel.

"Here," someone said, shoving a cardigan into her hands.

She glanced up; surprised to see that it was Rosalie that was talking to her. More words were spoken, but she couldn't focus on them. She felt faint. The room became a blur, everything was blurry; except Edward. She saw nothing but his face. His features would forever be burned into her memory and she would never forget the expression on his face as he realized exactly WHAT it was he was seeing.

His jaw went from hanging agape to being tightly clenched in a matter of seconds. If that wasn't telling enough, his green eyes blazed over with a cold anger.

Would he hate her for this? Would he try and understand? Would it be... over?

She opened her mouth to say something, but couldn't find the words. She had practiced what she was going to say, how she was going to break the news to him, but now her mind was drawing a blank. She couldn't think, she couldn't breathe. A hefty amount of fear coiled in her gut. She was blowing this, she just knew it. She needed to leave, to go… anywhere... anywhere but there where she was at the moment. Her feet were already moving towards the door.

Before she could get anywhere though, Edward grabbed her arm and pulled her back roughly. "We need to talk!"

"No," she shook her head almost frantically, her eyes darting around wildly as the rest of the room slowly came back into focus. "Can't do this! Not here…" There were just too many sets of eyes staring back at her.

"Not here," Edward agreed in a clipped voice she didn't quite recognize. He said something to his sister over his shoulder, something Bella couldn't decipher in her frazzled state of mind, but she got the gist of it. Alice was to look after Anthony for however long it was needed. Without letting go of her arm Edward stepped in front of her, twisting so that Bella had no choice but to follow him. And with that they were out the door.

She was vaguely aware of being dragged through the hallway and down the stairs. He tugged her forward and she followed blindly, her bare feet padding against the floor. He said nothing. He didn't even look at her. His pace was rapid and she was stumbling to keep up. She banged her knee on a small table at one point, it rattled against the wall, but neither of them took notice of it.

Somewhere, a TV was on, the volume blaring, but other than that the house seemed strangely deserted. They went unnoticed all the way down the stairs and the first floor landing. However, when they passed the kitchen, Esme's head appeared in the doorway. She looked surprised, but delighted to see them. In true, motherly fashion, she offered them both some snacks and hot beverages.

It was instantly apparent, to Bella at least, that Edward wasn't in the right mind frame to exchange pleasantries with his mother. He glared at her and grunted something unintelligible, before turning his back stalking off towards the front door.

Poor Esme was seemingly oblivious to the hostile keep-the-fuck-away vibes her son was projecting. Bella tried a polite smile, but couldn't quite hold it together for more than a few seconds before it turned into a pained grimace.

"Not hungry? Oh well, I'll save some for you for later," Edward's mother chirped as if nothing was out of the ordinary. "Edward, honey, if you're heading outside you'll be needing more clothes … and light. It's pitch dark out there. Carlisle where did that flashlight go?" she called over her shoulder.

Thankfully, Dr. Cullen was more perceptive than his wife. "Bath time over already?," he asked, appearing in the doorway with a plate of sandwiches in his hand. It took him all about three seconds to get a grasp of the situation. His eyebrows shot upwards, but he masked it expertly, quickly turning towards his wife, "Es, I think you left the milk on the counter."

"I did not," she protested.

"Well, someone did," he declared, steering his wife back towards the kitchen. "I can see it from here, and also how long are those buns supposed to bake in the oven? They are looking kind of dark if you ask me."

"There is nothing wrong with those buns," Esme huffed, narrowing her eyes "Are you trying to get rid of me? What's going on?"

"Of course not dear. Nothing's going on. You go save those buns and I'll try and locate the flashlight."

"Fine!" she agreed reluctantly."…but don't let them out without scarves and gloves and hats," she instructed, as she disappeared out of view.

"You heard you mother. Gear up!" Carlisle said loudly, then added in a much lower tone of voice, "Are you heading for the pool house?"

"Yes," Edward confirmed with a sharp glare at Bella. "Someone has some explaining to do!"

"I see, "Edward's father nodded and Bella thought she saw a sympathetic expression on his face, but it quickly

disappeared. "I'll make sure you have privacy and that no one bothers you," Carlisle offered, throwing a quick glance over his shoulder. "But Edward you should…"

"No!" Edward interrupted, clearly at the end of his patience. "I don't want to hear what I should or should not do!" he all but barked.

"Edward," Carlisle held his hands up, palms out. "I just thought I should point out that Isabella is barefoot. I know you're just going next doors, but shoes are a must when there are inches of snow on the ground."

Edwards eyes shot down to the floor, as did Bella's and sure enough, there they were; a pair of bare feet.

While she scurried to rectify her blunder, Carlisle tried, unsuccessfully, to get his son into a coat. Edward was beyond fed up at that point and didn't bother hiding it. Wringing his hands through his hair, he told his father to take both the coat and his good advice and shove them somewhere painful and wholly inappropriate.

"Keep your temper in check, son." Carlisle warned in a dangerously calm voice.

The look Edward sent his father was venomous and Bella felt the need to defuse the tension before one of them said something they couldn't take back. For all of her mistakes, Bella knew she didn't want to stir up a family feud; this was between her and Edward.

"It's understandable that you're upset." She moved to stand in his line of sight. "Lashing out will not make things right and especially not lashing out at the people who do not deserve it."

"You," he spat, pointing a finger at her, "Keep your thoughts to yourself, if you know what's best for you!" Without saying another word he opened the front door and let the harsh, cold wind do the talking for him.

And so it was that Bella found herself trudging through the snow at the side of the house, feeling quite a bit underdressed, with only Rosalie's knitted wool cardigan and Alice's untied boots, to protecting her against the snow.