A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts. And if you're reading this, thanks for hanging in there. ;)

Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest belongs to me. All mistakes are mine.

Chapter 22 – Realistic Fairy Tale


EDWARD

I pulled the truck into the Swan's driveway, killed the engine, and jumped out; all three actions were performed almost in sync. In my haste, I slipped on mud left over from the overnight showers, then growled in frustration while I clung to the driver's side door until my feet found purchase – thereby wasting all the precious seconds my cautious recklessness had just shaved. Regaining my footing, I took the stoop steps two at a time, with a finger already extended toward the doorbell. When I caught sight of the neatly printed sign on the door, I yanked the finger back:

PLEASE DON'T RING DOORBELL. KNOCK LIGHTLY.

I bit back a curse, forming a tight fist, then giving the door three barely controlled raps before I stepped back. I raked the hand through my scalp and kept it fisted there to avoid the temptation to knock again – and harder. Instead, I waited, pacing the small landing and trying not to think of all the wasted seconds because this wasn't the same. This was not the same.

Still, the recognition didn't change the fact that I should've been here first thing this morning. I should've known that something was wrong with Bella as soon as she failed to answer my call. But I'd closed my eyes and begun hoping…

No, that was a lie. I'd done more than hope. I'd started to believe that I was some sort of savior, that I was Bella's knight-in-shining armor. Not in those fairy-tale terms, where I arrived to save the day outfitted with a sword, mail, and shield. See, Bella hadn't had an episode almost since my arrival in Forks. While neither of us acknowledged that aloud, I'd begun believing in something more dangerous than fairy tales. I believed my arrival – Tristan's and my arrival – in Forks- positively affected Bella's health. Instead of weapons and armor, I'd believed in the restorative power of love. If I remained careful with her – vigilant yet gentle – if I kept our relationship invigorating yet nondemanding and stressless, well then…poof: magic. It was a wildly romantic notion, yeah.

And arrogant as fuck. Because if there was anyone who knew life didn't work that way, it was me. It should've been me.

The seconds that trickled by as the door went unanswered felt more like hours. I knew that my wait was stretched out more by anxiety than by reality, yet as all these thoughts made a circuit around my mind, that anxiety multiplied. Again, I lifted a hand. Again, I thought better and retracted it, only to raise it two seconds later. At the last moment, I regained self-control, and rather than pound my fists against the doorframe, I pressed my knuckles against it, and…waited.

OOOOO

Two Days Earlier:

"All done, Trist?"

"All done!"

Tristan stood on tiptoes over the bathroom footstool, gripping the edges of the sink and peering into the medicine chest's mirror.

"Look, Dad! Look! Teeth all clean!" he spouted, though somehow, his mouth remained open and his lips barely moving.

I stifled a chuckle. "Let's take a look."

Before inspecting Tristan's burgeoning tooth-brushing skills, I snuck a quick peek at my cell phone. It was propped on the medicine chest's shelf, waiting to buzz with a call or a text at Bella's behest. When my peek confirmed no recent activity, I sighed inwardly and pivoted back to Tristan's reflection.

"Wow! Those teeth are so clean and bright; they're blinding me!" Moving closer to the mirror, I lifted a hand over my eyes, forming a makeshift visor.

"Yay! Yay, teeth blinding Dad!"

He jumped up and down, tipping over the footstool in his enthusiasm and forcing my reflexes into action. I caught him right before he landed on his behind.

"Careful, Trist."

Of course, he found it all a game, and I could've turned it into a lesson regarding the benefits of being cautious over being carefree. But when he filled the bathroom with his impish giggles, I laughed along. Lately, thanks to Bella, I was learning to see these moments as more than mere teaching moments. I ruffled Tristan's thick, damp curls, placed him solidly back on the floor, and knelt beside him to towel dry his hair. That was when the cell phone buzzed. Anxious and eager, I reached blindly for the phone, smiling and neglecting to check the caller's ID.

"Bella?"

At the mention of that name, Tristan immediately jutted his face into the screen's view. "Ooh, ooh! I say hi to Bella! I say hi to-" He pulled back, brow furrowed and shoulders slumping. "That not Bella."

"Tristan, sweetheart, what bell are you speaking of? This is your Nanny Chelsea. I'm face-timing you. Can you see me?"

Chelsea provided this unnecessary narrative in the manner of those stumped by technology, who assumed that everyone else was equally stumped. She sat stiffly on a high stool at her kitchen island, wearing a frown that deepened the lines on her forehead.

"Then again, I know it's been a while since your father made any effort to facilitate our communication. Therefore, I wouldn't be surprised if you've forgotten what I look like and are now confusing me for a bell."

My eyes rolled, then trailed down to Tristan, who blinked at the screen several times.

"Nanny Chelsea, you's not Bella."

I choked back a chuckle. Meanwhile, Chelsea appeared even more confused.

"I'm not a bell? I know I'm not a bell, Tristan, darling. What's all this talk of bells? Edward," she called, tapping the screen with a finger, "Edward, can he see me properly? He seems to be confusing me for a bell. Is my image not coming through clearly?"

How she thought that, despite Tristan's young age, he'd confuse her for a bell, I had no clue. Either way, before Tristan's impressively well-brushed yet unfiltered mouth created more chaos, I pulled him away from the screen.

"Chelsea, the image is fine. Tristan can see you clearly, and no, he hasn't forgotten you," I placated her before fact-checking the rest of her rant. "It's been about a week since you and he spoke, which is not long enough for him to forget you, though I understand it's longer than you'd like. But we've been busy."

"Ah, yes, the vacation." Chelsea spat the last word like a curse, scowling into the screen. At least she gave up the annoying finger tapping on the screen as if it were a 70's-era TV. "You've been too busy on the vacation that required you to take my grandson across the country for the entire summer."

With a deep breath, I tamped down on my growing irritation. Meanwhile, Tristan wasn't having as much success with patience. Nearing the end of his for the day, he whined at my side, squirming and fussing and quickly morphing from a tired three-year-old into an overtired imp.

"Dad, when are Bella gonna call?"

"Soon, Trist. Would you like to speak with Nanny Chelsea?"

"No."

With an internal grimace at that sharp, one-word dismissal of his grandmother, I returned my attention to Chelsea.

"Chelsea, as you may have noticed-"

"He's forgotten me."

"He hasn't forgotten you, but-"

"But when are soon so Bella can call, Dad?"

"-but it's bedtime here," I continued, "and Tristan's feeling it."

Chelsea's blue gaze narrowed, highlighting crow's feet at the outer edges. Something about her angry face reminded me of Kate when we'd argue – back before she got sick, after which any and all issues our relationship or our marriage may have developed took a back seat to the sickness. Either way, Chelsea resembled an older version of her twin daughters. She also resembled Tristan in a vague way I couldn't place beyond shared genes.

Funny, there was a time when such sudden remembrances and resemblances caused me a pang of melancholic nostalgia. But the ache I momentarily felt wasn't so much one of wistfulness. It was more like…remembering an old friend, one who, as my one-time wife and Tristan's birth mother, once played a significant role in my life, if not, as I was now learning, the most significant.

"I miss my grandson, and every time I call to speak with him, you have an excuse for why I can't."

I swallowed back the instinctive annoyance caused by her accusation. After all, the moment of sentimental rumination reminded me that underneath Chelsea's festering resentment was a grandmother, one who missed her grandson. At the same time, I knew there was no point in forcing an overtired Tristan, who, even now, flailed and wriggled in my hold, to speak with his maternal grandmother. He was too young to understand the politics of assuaging her with a few words, to keep the peace – or at least to keep me from having to listen to her shit.

"As I said, he hasn't forgotten you. Unfortunately, the past few times you've called, he's been either at camp, napping or knocked out for the night. And right now, he's tired and cranky."

She quirked a brow, and a question clearly dangled on the tip of her tongue when she began formulating her reply.

"Well then, why-" At the last moment, she appeared to swallow it. "He seems to have loads of energy for this Bella person?"

I stiffened, all the warm and fuzzies I'd just felt toward the old biddy annihilated. Regardless, I sidestepped the question.

"Chelsea, I promise I'll have Tristan call you tomorrow. Oh, wait, it's July fourth tomorrow, and we might be out late."

"Plans with this Bella person?"

Now she was just angling for information she knew was none of her concern. I held her gaze steadily.

"I'll have Tristan call you as soon as he's in a better mood and we have a few minutes. Have a good night."

She bristled, pressing her lips into a tight line accentuating the threading creases around her mouth. But then, with a deep and prominent breath, her tone softened.

"Good night, Edward, and…please give my grandson a goodnight kiss from his Nanny Chelsea."

"Of course I will," I assured her in a soothing tone.

I waited until I disconnected the call before following through with that goodnight kiss, rightly suspecting Tristan's less-than-touching reaction.

"Trist, here's a good night kiss from your Nanny Chelsea."

Scrunching up his nose, he huffed and took up his continuous refrain.

"When are Bella gonna call?"

"Kid," I snorted, "if I didn't share your anxiousness right now, I'd see why your grandma was ready to reach through that screen." I gestured a chokehold.

When the phone vibrated again, Tristan's eyes lit up. "Are that her?"

I bit back a groan after checking the I.D. "No, but why don't you get your jammies on, and I'll meet you in your bedroom? And no running!" I added as he sucked his teeth and took off running.

"The little gremlin driving you nuts?" Alice asked as I made my way to Tristan's bedroom.

"He's a tired and cranky three-year-old."

"You sound and look like a tired and cranky thirty-year-old," Alice noted.

"Thanks," I grumbled. "What's up, little sis? What's going on in the city?"

"Not much. I'm just studying for finals. It's so damn hot in this city. I can't focus."

"Is Mom and Dad's AC system on the blink?"

"No. But you know how these New York City summers hit."

"Yeah. Though I've got to say, I haven't needed AC for the past few nights. I crack the windows open, and we get a mountainous breeze that…"

An image of Bella a few evenings earlier flitted through my mind. She arched her spine and threw back her head, rhythmically rocking over me while the mountain breeze streamed through the windows and ruffled her long hair. It billowed around her sweat-glistened shoulders…raised goosebumps against her bare skin…

"That what, Edward?" Alice prompted.

I blinked. "Oh. We get a mountainous breeze that's…just great," I grinned.

Alice sighed. "Skewer sounds like such a cool place to spend the summer. And I miss you guys so much."

"Firstly, Al, it's Forks, not Skewer. Secondly, you're laying it on thick when you've already been invited once you're done with summer classes."

"Was the sigh too much? I thought that may have been a bit too dramatic, but that last statement was completely true, so I thought it balanced out."

"Little sis, you should teach acting," I smirked, then added with genuine warmth, "And we miss you too, Alice."

In Tristan's bedroom, I found his pajamas on the floor, twisting and bending into unnatural positions.

"Dad! Dad! I put jammies on by self!"

I flipped the screen around for Alice. "Check this out."

"Aww, the little imp. So silly yet so adorable."

"Are that Bella?" came a muffled voice from inside his pajama top.

"No, buddy." I crouched to help him before he broke a limb. "It's Aunt Ally. Want to say hi to her?"

His head emerged, and he barked out irately. "Hi, Aunt Ally!"

"Jesus, that sounded more like a curse than a greeting."

"Don't take it personally. Like I said, he's tired and decided he wants to speak with Bella and no one else.

Alice chuckled. With Tristan's pajamas safely and securely donned, I straightened out of my crouch, picked him up, and handed him Blanket.

"In bed and under the covers, please."

"But I want-"

"Yeah, yeah. You and me both. Let's get you under the covers to wait."

Alice chuckled. "So, how is Bella?"

"She's…good."

"Uh-oh. Do I detect trouble in the paradise that is Colander?"

"Shh," I shushed, taking a seat at the foot of the bed and turning my back to Tristan. I dropped my voice to a whisper. "First, it's Forks, and second, no, Alice, not at all. Bella is…wonderful." I sighed. "I'm just a bit worried."

My sister's smooth brow furrowed in concern. "How come?"

"Well, she was supposed to call or text as soon as she got to work tonight, but I haven't heard from her."

There were about two seconds of silence. Then Alice burst into laughter.

"You sound like an unsympathetic banshee," I smirked.

"And you sound like a teenager with his first girlfriend! 'When is she gonna call? Or at least text?'" she mimicked, "and then sighs and all!" She laughed harder. "Haven't you said that Nutcracker is a relatively small and safe town? What could possibly happen to Bella in a place like that?"

"It's Forks, not Nutcracker, and as for what could possibly happen…"

The answer to that was complicated and involved more than the relative size and safety of the town. The answer was Bella's story to tell, and I wouldn't betray her privacy by sharing it without her permission – not even with my sister.

However, I had no qualms about contacting her lawyer. But I'd think about all the ways and reasons that was wrong later, if and when Counselor Jasper Hale ever replied to my vague email.

"You never know what could happen," I said instead.

"Man, you're really worried," Alice noted, "and you sound a bit stalkerish, to be honest.

Before I could reply, the phone vibrated once again. This time, the caller's ID elicited a smile and a wave of relief.

"Hold on for a sec, Al."

OOOOO

Present:

When Sue opened the door, forty-five seconds that felt like forty-five years later, I stumbled, straightening and dropping the hand I had suspended in midair. Mutual apologies ensued.

"Sue, sorry."

"Edward," Sue said, looking a bit flustered yet offering me a smile, "sorry to keep you waiting. Come in, come in."

"No. No, problem. I was just- how is she?" I whisper-rushed as I hurried forward.

"She's been better," Sue provided honestly, "but she's been worse too. I was just sitting with her and-"

"Sue!"

The urgency in that voice sent ice crawling up my veins. Sue instantly took off in the direction of the voice, and with my heart racing, I followed on her heels.

"Sue!" Bella called again.

"Coming, Izzy!"

We turned into the family room, where I came to a sudden stop and froze.

OOOOO

This time, when I switched over to the other call, Bella appeared – beautiful, safe, and healthy – and wearing a radiant smile, her dark eyes sparkling even through the small screen. She leaned casually against the counter at Emily's Pub.

"Bella, I was beginning to worry."

The radiant smile momentarily faltered. The sparkle dimmed. That is until Tristan sat in bed and nudged his way into the screen's view.

"I see Bella!" he yelled. With his energy and mood magically restored, he bounced on his behind. "I see Bella!"

"Hi, sweet pea! I was just doing some prep work around here before I called you guys so I wouldn't have to rush through our call, and I could join you and your dad for your bedtime story."

"Yay!"

"Yay!" Bella echoed with a chuckle.

"Smart thinking," I said.

Bella's eyes panned back to me. She quirked a brow. "I know, right? Once in a while, I tend to be surprisingly capable of that, City Boy."

Although her tone remained playful, there was an underlying edge to it. Bewildered, I took a moment to mentally replay our few seconds of interaction. When I caught the reproachful tone I'd used in my greeting, one thing became glaringly evident:

I was an asshole.

Well, no, not an asshole. More accurately, I was a stalker; at least, I was acting like one, just as Alice had teased. How many times had Bella expressed her frustration at how the Chief tended to hover in all his well-meant glory? His constant worry and how it threatened to infringe on Bella's independence was a sore point regardless of how much she loved her godfather. The last thing Bella wanted was a carbon copy of him as her boyfriend. And the last thing I wanted was for Bella to feel as if I were keeping track of her.

"I know you're more than capable, Bella," I acknowledged.

"Good."

We spent the next few minutes winding Tristan down for the evening. Once he and Bella shared their final good nights, I kissed my son on each cheek – one from Bella and one from me. Then, flipping on his nightlight and monitor, I stepped out of his bedroom.

"He went down without a fuss," I said once I was in my room. "That doesn't happen often."

A look of pure tenderness infused her beautiful features. "I'm honored I was able to help."

"I'm honored you helped."

We shared a chuckle. But then conversation dwindled the way it tends when two people still getting to know one another take to dancing around a topic that may or may not blow up into an argument. I sat at the foot of my bed and watched her wipe the pub counter.

"How do you make me miss you by wiping down a counter when you were just here a short while ago?"

She paused, holding my gaze through the phone screen. Then she went ahead and proved why she was the braver one out of both of us.

"You know what I wish? I wish you would've opened up our conversation with something like that. Or with something like, 'Bella, you should've seen what Tristan just did,' or 'You should've heard what he said.' Or even something like, 'Bella, you've got the hugest, most disgusting pimple ever, right on the tip of your nose.'" She tapped the tip of her nose. "Anything other than what you said."

She was asking for nothing more…nothing less than what I'd just given Chelsea and Alice. And despite the apparent humor in her last words, her wistful expression sent an ache coursing through me.

"Bella, I have missed the hell out of you. And you should've seen Tristan trying to put on his pajamas without help. He almost twisted himself into a pretzel."

She chuckled. "Why did I miss that? You let him try, though, right?"

"Yeah," I assured her. "And you should've seen how his face fell when the phone buzzed before that, and it was his grandmother instead of you."

"Aww, my poor baby. And poor Grandma!"

"And…" I brought the phone screen closer, "Bella, there's no pimple on your nose. Even if there were, I'd plant a big, loud, wet kiss on it."

"Edward, that's gross!"

"I am sorry," I said softly. "It wasn't my intention to hurt your feelings."

She chuckled once again. "It wasn't that serious. I just…" she exhaled, "I hope your first thought, the prominent emotion when I'm not around, isn't about concern, Edward. I know that you…you had to deal with that once before, and those aren't the feelings I want to inspire in you. Besides, you already have a child to worry about."

I set the phone down at my side and expelled a long breath before holding the screen up again. At the other end, Bella's expression remained inscrutable.

"When you're not around, my first thought is that I wish you were more than around – I wish you were in my arms. My prominent emotion revolves around things you don't want to discuss yet. Bella, I just wanted to make sure you were safe."

"I know. Let's drop it, okay?" she offered softly. Then, with her own long breath, accompanied by a grin, she added, "Besides, I'm feeling so damned healthy lately! I can hardly even remember what an episode feels like! Vertigo? What vertigo?"

And with that and a shared grin as if we hadn't been on the verge of a discussion that would be necessary either sooner or later – preferably sooner - she resumed the counter's wipe down, and we put an end to the awkward topic. When she had to end the call, I only barely dared one last request.

"Good night, sweet Lumberella. Text me when you arrive home later?"

"Fine, City Boy," she sighed dramatically, "fine."

I chuckled at the face she made.

OOOOO

PRESENT:

Bella lay half-reclined, half-propped over the Swan's sofa, with a blanket bunched up around her legs, a plastic bucket tightly in her grip, and her head half buried inside said bucket. Although I couldn't see her face, the tell-tale sounds told the damn story regardless of the plastic muffling them. A memory flashed through my mind of a long-ago hospice room and a light-haired rather than a dark-haired woman, with her head also burrowed inside a bucket. Wincing, I forced away the memory.

Sue had already made her way to Bella's side. She held back stray tendrils of hair that escaped Bella's ponytail with one hand. The other hand gently rubbed soothing circles across Bella's back.

Finally, I unfroze and briskly rushed forward, dropping to my knees in front of Bella. I curved a hand around the bucket's rim and leaned in to murmur close to Bella's ear.

"I've got it, baby. Let go of the bucket."

Her knuckles protruded sharply with the inflexible hold she had on the bucket. "What? No…" she heaved, "No, Ed…gross…"

"Let go. I've got it."

For the next few minutes, while nausea roiled inside her, Sue sat beside her, and I knelt in front of her, holding the bucket and nudging wayward strands of hair behind her ear. Inwardly, I vacillated between praying for an end to her bout of nausea…and cursing Paul Lahote to the deepest pits of hell.

OOOOO

After Bella and I ended our call, I made my way to the window, with the phone gripped at my side. A full moon was expected tonight, but it was currently covered by pewter clouds that also overshadowed what was often a glittering sky. It reminded me of Bella's sparkling, ebony eyes. In the darkness, without that moon or stars, the landscape was nothing but vague, indistinguishable shapes, formless obscurity that went hand in hand with my indefinable mood.

I was grateful that our disagreement hadn't escalated. Yet at the same time, relief for that, and even more so, for the fact that Bella had been perfectly fine, warred with a gnawing sense of dissatisfaction, as if, perhaps, we should've let that argument play out. Even Alice had said-

"Alice!"

I'd left her on the other line almost a half hour earlier! Quickly, I lifted the phone and switched it back over.

"Al, still there?"

Alice appeared on screen, still at her desk. She lifted her eyes from a textbook and scowled at me.

"I'm still here, Ay-hole. You're lucky I had studying to do anyway."

"I'm sorry," I said, offering her a mostly contrite chuckle. "That was Bella on the other line."

"Gee, no kidding?" she said dryly.

"Tristan wanted her to read him a story, and then she and I talked and…

"And you forgot about me."

"I'm sorry," I repeated with another chuckle, raking a hand through my hair.

Alice was silent for a beat.

"Al?"

"Edward, are you in love with her?"

My reply wasn't immediate, but not because I intended to deny it. More like the question itself had caught me by surprise. I figured I'd been obvious enough. Still, as they say, silence speaks volumes.

"Al," I grinned, "do you think I'd let a woman, who I didn't feel that strongly about, so close to your nephew?"

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense," Alice said after giving it some thought. "I guess I never really stopped to think…to picture what you, in love again, would look like. Or sound like." She paused and studied me through the phone screen, angling her head sideways. "You're different," she concluded. "Even from before."

"What do you mean 'from before'?"

"I mean…" Now she cast her eyes around the room as if searching for words hanging somewhere on her walls, maybe next to her posters. "I was young when you and Kate were married, so I don't remember perfectly, but…I can't recall ever hearing you sound this, well, I can't think of a word for it."

"I'm telling you, pay better attention in those English classes."

"Eff you. Let's say the word describes someone relaxed yet elated all at once. Of course, this isn't based on tonight. Tonight, the word to describe you is maniac."

"I'm not a maniac."

She ignored my comment, already off on another tangent of that thought. "Hey, do you remember how I told you once, right after Kate passed, that you needed a radar so that you could know when someone was trying to get close to Tristan just to get close to you?"

"Of course, I remember. It was one of the few good pieces of advice you've ever given me."

"Edward, you set that radar to 'Annihilate,' armed it with a death glare, and never let anyone slip past it."

An image flashed through my mind of Tanya sitting on my lap and kissing me wildly. I shook the disturbing memory off. It was a shameful moment I'd never spoken of aloud, not even with Alice.

"The question I'm getting at," Alice continued, "is how did you go from being fully armed to being in love?" She tilted her head to the other side, and now she got to the point. "How'd Bella slip past those massive defenses in only half a summer?"

The cloud cover must've momentarily dissipated because the bright, full moon suddenly shone over the lush landscape, and the stars twinkled. It all gave shape and meaning to the world below.

"Half a summer, half a year, half a lifetime," I murmured, "Al, it could've been half a day, and it wouldn't have mattered. She's simply-"

"Don't tell me she's perfect, Edward. Don't use the word 'perfect,' because that's where I stop trusting anything coming out of your mouth."

"I wasn't going to say 'perfect,' smart-ass," I lied. "But let me put it this way, then. That radar served me well until I met someone who wasn't trying to slip past my defenses. She didn't have to. I lowered them willingly. And it wasn't even because she's so damn smart. And brave. And adventurous. And funny and kind, and yeah… gorgeous," I grinned, "not even gonna try to deny that. See, she's got these deep, soulful eyes." I turned my gaze back up to the ebony sky. "She lights up my world with those fiery eyes. But again," I said, looking away from the evening's hidden stars, "none of those reasons were why I willingly surrendered."

"Then why?" Alice asked with a sort of amazed curiosity.

"Because of how she loves Tristan and how he loves her. In half a summer, they've come to share the sort of relationship I never dared dream of for my son, not after his mother's passing. She didn't get past my defenses, Al. She rendered them moot."

For a full minute, Alice silently held my gaze.

"So, what are you guys planning come the end of summer? A long-distance relationship?"

Alice had gone straight to the heart of the most significant question mark.

"We haven't made concrete plans yet. It's a bit complicated. But…no, I don't think long-distance is an option for us."

"Then she's moving to New York?"

I swallowed hard. These were all decisions Bella and I would have to consider soon. Alice looked suddenly wary.

"Ed, you wouldn't move so far away, would you? Cheese Grater sounds like an amazing summer spot, but New York City is New York City."

"Forks," I corrected, "and these names are getting increasingly ridiculous. Plus, as I said, we haven't discussed logistics yet. There are other issues to consider."

She quirked a brow. "Such as?"

"Now you're being nosey."

"You're right, you're right," Alice conceded with a sigh. "Hey, Ed? I am happy that you and Trist seem so happy. And now I really can't wait to meet her. I've only got one more question," she hedged, "and I'll let you go for the night."

"What is it?" I asked warily.

"Have you slept with her yet?" She asked suggestively, waggling her brows. Yet before I could tell her off, she seemed to realize on her own what she'd just asked. Her eyes grew wide in horror. Then she made a massive, Alice-Cullen-like production of gagging.

"Oh, my God, I just realized what I asked and who I asked! I don't want to know if my big brother slept with someone! I don't want to picture-" She palmed her forehead. "Fuck, now I'm picturing it!" Again, she gagged. "Make it stop! Someone make it stop!"

"Serves you right," I laughed.

"Gross! Yuck! I'm nauseous! Pass the brain bleach!"

OOOOO

PRESENT:

Bella's nausea finally subsided, at least enough for her to pull her head out of the bucket and lay back. Sue sat back with her, cradling Bella's head against her chest. She cooed gently at her, assuring her it would pass, that she was there for Bella, all while Bella's eyes remained shut.

She looked exhausted, the bout having sapped her of energy. The quiet groans that erupted from her were half-hearted, weary sounds. Her skin was leached of color, pale, and almost transparent. Her usually lush and healthy hair hung limp and damp. Her breathing was labored, and a thin sheen of sweat shone above her top lip and across her brow. She was battered; this strong, brave woman, who just last evening had allowed me to make love to her, who had bounced energetically-

"Mouthwash, please, Sue?" she requested on a barely audible breath.

"Of course, honey."

A bottle of blue mouthwash rested on the side table. Next to it was a short stack of plastic cups. Bella usually abhorred plastic. Sue carefully moved Bell off her chest and reclined her head on the couch's backrest. She then filled one of the cups with the mouthwash about a quarter of the way and guided the cup to Bella's mouth.

"Open up, hon." With her eyes still shut, Bella slowly leaned forward, and holding the cup between Bella's parched, slightly parted lips, Sue carefully tipped the liquid into her mouth. "There we go. Feeling better?"

Bella emitted an almost indiscernible grunt. She sloshed the liquid in her mouth, her jaw moving languidly. With the same sort of measured restraint, she spat the mouthwash back into the waiting plastic cup.

"Still dizzy, but a little better."

"I think you may have spit up the meds." Sue sighed. "We'll have to wait a little while before we try giving them to you again." She wiped Bella's mouth with a napkin. Then she reached toward me, where I remained at Bella's feet, still clutching the bucket.

"I'll take that, Edward, and empty it."

Bella's breath seemed to catch in her throat as if she'd been startled…or forgotten that I was there.

"Oh." I felt slow. Everything looked surreal. Thrown backward in time. The setting different, but the scene… I drew in a deep breath. "I can take care of it."

"Why don't you stay with Izzy?" she suggested instead. "There's a clean bucket right there if she needs it."

"Thanks, Sue," I murmured.

Sue offered me a wistful smile before brushing a hand over Bella's knee. "I'll be back in a few, Izzy."

Bella offered her an almost imperceptible nod. While Sue padded out of the room, I took her place, easing onto the opposite end of the couch while trying not to jostle the cushions and Bella. There was a long moment of silence between us.

"Edward," Bella breathed, gritty and hoarse, "is Tristan okay?"

Encouraged, I moved in closer, fearful of shaking her yet unable to resist brushing my lips against her damp, clammy temple. "Shh," I whispered, "he's fine. He's just fine, I promise. He's at camp."

When a lone tear skimmed her cheek, my throat tightened painfully.

"Good. He wasn't scared, was he?"

"No." Though she couldn't see me, I shook my head vigorously, furrowing my brow as if the question was senseless. "No, not at all," I lied. "I told him you weren't feeling well and that he'd see you after camp if you were feeling up to it, and he ran off to play."

In truth, Leah had to practically drag him away as he looked back at me almost pleadingly more than once.

Bella said nothing. Already having dared a kiss to her temple, I now touched her and ran featherlike fingers through her hair. I swallowed thickly.

"Is this okay?"

She gave me a short grunt. Whether it was confirmation or repudiation, I couldn't be sure. When I kept my fingers in her hair, and she made no other comment, I took it as permission.

"Bella, I'm so sorry."

"For what?" she breathed after a moment.

"Last night's fireworks. We shouldn't have gone."

"Tristan wanted to see them…he deserves…" she sighed, "Edward?"

"I'm here, pretty girl."

"Stop."

"Stop what, my love? Is this bothering you?" My hand paused in midair.

"Stop…coming. Leave. Don't bring Tristan here."

Nodding, I skimmed my mouth back and forth across her forehead. "Okay. If you're not up for it today, I'll tell him he has to wait 'til tomorrow."

"No." She paused, color flooding her cheeks as she seemed to gather strength from somewhere. When she spoke again, even with her eyes still shut, her tone had a determination, a finality. And the words stopped my heart.

"Tristan…Edward, we weren't thinking." Her already ragged voice broke. "Don't bring him here. Don't come back here."

When my heart started up again, it pounded wildly, displaced my blood, and sent bile to my own throat.

"Bella, baby, I know you're not feeling well-"

"We weren't thinking," she repeated, while another tear fell, and her chest heaved harder, "and it wasn't fair to him."

"He loves you, Bella. I love-"

"No." Her chest rose and fell erratically. "Don't." Fueled by reserves of strength, of fury, she shoved my hand away and leaned forward once again. "Sue!"

"Bella, do you need the bucket again?"

"Oh, God. Edward, leave, please. Sue!"

I grabbed the spare bucket and returned to her.

"LEAVE!" she shouted.

"No," I said calmly.

Now, she opened her eyes and looked right at me as if my refusal had shocked the hell out of her. Bella's eyes…her gorgeously dark, sparkling eyes were bloodshot from popped vessels caused by the force of her retching. It was something else I recognized. She squeezed them shut again.

"I'm here to stay, Bella."

"SUE!" she shouted, then heaved into the bucket I held.

A few minutes later, when she was done, I set the bucket aside, poured her mouthwash, let her rinse and spit, then set aside the plastic cup. Then I gently picked her up and put her sideways on my lap, resting her head on my chest and bundling us inside her blanket. At first, her limbs remained stiff, refusing to shape around me. After a few deep breaths – hers and mine – she nestled and burrowed her wary frame against mine. Although her eyes remained closed, they were no longer squeezed shut with painful intensity.

It was strange. Despite what was going on and why we were assembled this way, she fit against me as if she'd always belonged there. As if this had always been meant to be my job.

Sue had quickly and quietly appeared soon after Bella's shouting. Then she'd shuffled away just as hastily. In the same manner, she now did me the favor of gathering up the soiled items and replacing the bucket with a clean one, shooting me a soft smile as she backed out of the room.

"You don't deserve this," Bella said after a while. "Neither you nor Tristan deserve to have your summer ruined this way." She snorted weakly. "Bad enough my godparents and Leah…but Tristan…"

"You want to know the truth?" I said. "Tristan is terrified."

Bella choked back a sob. "Don't do this to him, Edward."

"Don't do what, Bella?" I said, brushing my lips against the top of her head. "Don't allow him to revolve around his sun?"

"His sun," she scoffed. "His sun is damaged."

I shook my head. "His sun fills his world with more sunshine, light, and happiness than he's ever known. I don't call that damaged. He's young, baby. And what he's terrified about right now is the unknown. We'll teach him in age-appropriate ways. I mean, he's already been learning over the summer, right?"

"You went through this once, taking care of a sick woman. And while I won't compare myself to your wife-"

"Bella," I sighed, "you can say whatever you want, but I'm not leaving your side. Leah can bring him home with her when Tristan's done with camp. If you're up for it, he can visit you for a little while. If you're not, I'll speak with him, and he'll wait until you're feeling better."

"You have things to do-"

"I'm on vacation," I said with a smirk in my voice, "remember? Besides, there are these magical things called laptops that I can place beside me and just…type away in between your heaving."

She went quiet. Just as I began fearing that my senseless and badly-timed attempt at humor had been way too distasteful – shit, no pun intended – she offered me a frail, though heartfelt chuckle.

"You're an ass."

"Hey, you don't want to be treated with kid gloves, right?"

"I mean, no. But damn." She chuckled again, the sound like music to my ears. "A little delicacy, some tact wouldn't hurt."

"Ahh," I said, pretending to ponder the suggestion, "so, after all that complaining, the princess wants gallantry and chivalry after all."

She snorted. Then she was quiet again. "The other day, I was talking with Emily…Edward, I was beginning to think this was a fairy-tale."

I drew in a deep breath. When I exhaled it, Bella gently rose and fell with my chest.

"Strange. I'd also begun thinking in fairy-tale terms over the past few days. I don't know, Bella. Maybe it is; I'm just not the hero here."

"You were thinking yourself the hero? Jeez, arrogant much?"

"Yeah, yeah," I said, acknowledging my stupidity. "I mean, you're the one who wrote that anonymous article about Forks-"

"How do you know I wrote that article?" she whispered.

"Bella, my love, now that I know you, that article has your heart and soul imprinted all over it. Plus, I've read the tourism prospectus you prepared with Sue. I know how you write. Anyway, you wrote this article that brought Tristan and me to Forks. Your godfather was the first person we met. Then, on our first night here, I bumped into you at Emily's pub and practically drowned in your eyes."

"You thought I was a lumbering drunk."

"Even though I thought you were a lumbering drunk," I acknowledged.

"Man, you're not pulling punches with me today, are you, City Boy?"

"Then, the following night, Tristan and I were invited to your godparents' barbecue, where you and Tristan fell in love at first sight. And with Tristan loving you…Alice and I were talking about this last night, Bella; there's no way this wasn't meant to be."

"Maybe…maybe Tristan is the hero of the story."

I chuckled. "Maybe." Then I sobered. "This is better than a fairy tale."

"How?" she asked, her warm, minty breath fanning my face.

"It's real – stupid, arrogant princes and dizzy, vomiting princesses and all."

"Jesus, man," she laughed cautiously, and though I missed the way she tended to throw her head back when she laughed, I decided to cut down on the jokes until she felt better.

Yet again, she went quiet for a while. I thought she'd fallen asleep until she reached up and cradled my cheek in her warm hand with her eyes still closed.

"Edward…if you change your mind, I won't ever blame you. One summer of this is one thing. But a lifetime…"

"A lifetime," I echoed.

She opened her eyes again. I saw them cross a bit before she quickly shut them.

"Makes me dizzy."

"Then don't open them," I murmured. "Like I said, I'm not going anywhere." I held her all the tighter and closer, wrapped her around me, and sighed.

"A lifetime. Yeah, that sounds about right."


A/N: Thoughts?

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