Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of the characters. Story is inspired by the Mexican novela "Caer en Tentation"

Bella

An unfamiliar weight across my waist woke me up the following morning. It takes a moment for me to come out of my sleepy daze, rubbing the sleep away from my eyes, I look at my surroundings only to realize where I am and the events of the night before that landed me on this bed.

His tattooed arm is draped over my abdomen while the other is under my head, holding me close to his naked chest. I slowly twist between his arms toward him, trying my best not to wake him up and simply admire his sleeping form. He looks so young, peaceful, and childlike when he's sleeping. His lips pout and are slightly parted, his hair falling in messy curls over his forehead and the side of his face is pressed against the pillow. I lean in and press a gentle kiss on his parted lips, and I smile when his lips twitch into a smile and he opens one eye.

"Mornin'." He holds me tighter against him, tucking my head under his chin. "How'd you sleep?" He asks as he kisses my hair.

I hum happily, wrapping my arms around his waist. "Like a baby. What time do we have to meet Detective Black at the cabin?"

"At four." He pulls away and lays on his back, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes. He looks back at me and sighs. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

His fingers trace small circles on my arms and he asked, "Your panic attacks, how long have you had them?"

I pull back, a little taken aback.

"That's an odd morning question."

Edward chuckles. "I know, but I've been meaning to ask you about this."

"Why?"

"Because I care about you and I've never asked before."

I sigh, laying on my back, staring at the ceiling. How do I begin to explain?

"I've had them for as long as I can remember, but I started treatment when I was about eleven years old. Dr. Wyatt says I've probably had them since my father died, but my mother didn't notice until I was older. She took me to several doctors until we found Dr. Wyatt."

Edward rolls onto his side, propping his head on his hand. "Really? Since you were eleven?"

"Yes. The man has known me my entire life."

"And how has he explained it to you?"

"Basically, I have my own defense mechanism that developed when my dad died. My mind simply blocks bits and pieces of information when I go into this panic-"

"And you don't remember," he said, almost to himself.

I nod. "Nothing."

He begins to play with my hair, twirling the strand around his finger.

"Does it ever bother you?"

"It did at first, but when the panic attacks began to happen less and less frequently, I learned to let it go."

"When did it start to slow down?"

"A little after I met Emmett," I admit. I start tracing the tattoos on his arm. "And the irony now is that because of him, they've been worse than ever."

The corners of his lips twitch into a frown.

"You don't have to worry about that anymore," he whispers and leans in to kiss me. "I got you, okay?"

I smile, liking the idea. "Okay."

"We should get ready for the day, we don't want you to be late on your first day at the garage." He gives me a playful smile.

I roll my eyes. "Well, it's a good thing my new boss likes me." I give him one last kiss before I crawl out of bed. "But I really do need to go. I have to take the boys to school."

I run quickly to the bathroom to splash some water on my face and wash my teeth at least with my finger to get rid of the morning breath. I would use Edward's brush, but I doubt we're at that point yet. Almost like instinct, my hand goes to the bright red hair brush on the counter but I stop myself before I can touch it. The brush still has some blonde hair, evidence of her. My hand snaps away from it almost like it's on fire and I walk out of the room.

I don't know what I was expecting. This used to be her house, full of small details and memories that remind me this place belonged to her. The kitchen table where I talked with Edward, the kitchen where I kissed him and the bed I slept on. It's wrong, so wrong, but there's a side of me, the selfish side that is well beyond the point of caring.

When I walk back to the bedroom, Edward is getting into a pair of gray sweatpants that hang loose from his hips. He isn't totally built the way Emmett is, he is leaner but veins do pop out on his forearms and his chest is toned. Something about the sight of him standing in the middle of the room with nothing but gray sweatpants melts me on the inside. Edward walks me to the door and with one last kiss, we promise to see each other in an hour at the garage.

The boys are still sound asleep by the time I get home. They still have another hour before they have to get up, so I hop in the shower to wash away the night before and get ready for the day. There's a giddy feeling in me today. It's an excitement that makes me hop with every step I take.

It's an Edward Cullen high that I do not want to sober up from.

Rita walks in the kitchen and stops dead in her tracks when she sees me. "Someone is in a good mood today."

I shrug it off as I make my coffee. "It's been a good morning."

Rita hums as she gets the boys lunch ready. There's a knowing look on her face, but I play dumb and sip my coffee.

"Does it have anything to do with where you spent the night last night?" I don't pretend to be shocked. Rita is a light sleeper and after I left last night, I knew she'd keep an eye out when I was coming home. She smiles at me and shakes her head lightly. "You look like a smitten teenager."

I bite the inside of my lip, trying my best to hide my smile. "I'm going to be working with him," I tell her. "Just helping him with all the paperwork at the garage."

"Is that so? Well no wonder you're all dolled up today."

I roll my eyes. I didn't doll myself up. I'm wearing what I would usually wear. A lightweight pink dress that goes down to my knees with a comfortable brown cardigan, my hair loose down my shoulders and light makeup. Well, with the exception of the cherry lipstick. Rita gives me another knowing look and I can't help but laugh. I set my coffee aside and say, "I'm going to wake the boys."

I head straight to the garage after I drop off the boys at school. Edward is working on a car when I get there in his classic work overalls, so I give him a quick kiss and leave him to work, concentrating on the mess he has in the office. I start off organizing his desk before starting to input some information about the documents in the computer.

It felt good working again, being so immersed into the paperwork and the organization, I felt like me again. It was a part of me I have been missing for years. The part of me that strives to do something beyond her husband and her children. It helped me forget about the case, it helped me forget about the affair and go into a world where I'm at the wheel.

Two hours into the job, Edward walks into the office and bends over the chair behind me, leaning his hands on either side of me and kisses his way from the top of my head to my neck. His butterfly kisses leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake, and I forget what I'm doing.

"I could get used to this," he whispers against my hair.

I turn my chair to face him, take his face between my hands and kiss him. There's a fresh and minty taste to him that drives me insane. His intoxicating smell is like my own personal brand of heroin. I notice he's out of his work clothes and into his regular clothes, and when I pull away, I arch a brow.

"We have to meet with Detective Black at four at the cabin and it's a two hour drive from here to Forks."

We're really doing this.

I take in a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that suddenly have my body shaking and my heart pounding against my chest. It's knowing that the cabin was their place. Their hiding spot. Their safe haven. It's known that the same cabin where they hid all these years to be together is the same cabin where Rosalie's body was found.

"Okay."

Edward pulls away, eyeing me cautiously. "Bella, I can go by myself. I don't want you to hurt more than you already have, not because of that bastard."

I shake my head and stand up. "I need to do it," I said. "I need to see it for myself."

Edward doesn't argue, instead he takes my hand in his and guides me out of the office. We make sure the garage is locked before driving off. Just as we're making our way out of Seattle, Edward calls his parents to check in on Lucy and let them know he is picking her up later tonight, but he is informed his sister has picked up Lucy for the night. Edward was annoyed by this. He said his sister had an overprotective tendency and her taking Lucy for another night was her way of protecting him, by giving him the time he needed.

"I don't need time," he said, but judging by the tone of his voice, I knew he was talking more to himself than me. "Lucy is my little girl and I don't need time to myself to know I'd give my life for her."

I take his free hand in mine and give him a gentle squeeze. He looks away from the road to me and smiles before turning back, our joined hands on his lap.

"You're a good father, Edward."

Their cabin was at the outskirts of Forks, hidden deep in the woods, miles away from any civilization. All I could hear was the rapid beat of my heart as Edward's car came to a stop. It was small with a reddish tone and the porch was made purely out of wood, whose steps creaked under our feet as we climbed. The cottage was still surrounded by yellow tape, but there was no one else in sight other than Detective Black who met us at the door.

Black's eyes widen at the sight of me. "Mrs. Swan, what are you doing here?"

"She asked to come," Edward said. "She wanted to help in any way she could."

"I do," I confirm.

Black nods with a tight smile. "Very well then, let's go inside."

He hands us each a pair of latex gloves.

The men allow me to step inside first, but the sight of the insides stops me in my tracks.

Everything about this cabin screamed home. The warm brown leather couches, the scattered blankets, the fireplace, the old radio, and the red brick walls. I walked around the cabin as Edward and Jacob spoke, tracing the surface of every piece of furniture I could touch, imaging them here on a summer weekend. I pictured Rosalie cooking in the kitchen, the two of them eating dinner at that rounded dining room table enough to sit two. I pictured them curled up in a blanket in front of the fireplace, enjoying a snowy night. How many times did they sneak off here? How many times did Emmett lie to me about some book signing to come here and spend time with that woman? In this place where they could be together without having to look over their shoulders, where they wouldn't have to worry about being caught.

The tears were there, threatening to come out but I refused to cry. I didn't want to cry for Emmett any longer. Each truth that has surfaced, everything I've learned about him has broken every bit of trust I had. It has broken me.

I hesitated when I approached the only bedroom in the cottage. Did I really want to see this? Could I take it? I decided to try regardless. The door creaked as I opened it. The large king size bed wasn't made. The white sheets and blankets were tangled together and when I stood at the foot of the bed, I saw a pair of pink panties on the floor beside the bedpost.

The image of Rosalie laying on this very bed with Emmett between her legs, pulling said underwear off her comes into mind, like a punch in the gut. I shake the images away as chills run down my spine and run out of the bedroom. A few traitorous tears fall and I wipe them away aggressively as I walk into the living room. There is a small wooden table in the hallway and on top of it lies a photo album. I didn't want to open it, not after what I saw in the bedroom, but the nagging in the back of my mind was too much to ignore.

I only made it to the second page. This book was filled with pictures of them kissing, traveling, in this cabin and in bed together. One would think they were a regular couple, in love and happy. No one would have guessed the true deceit behind these pictures. The picture of a heavily pregnant Rose standing in the kitchen, cradling her belly sent a shock down my spine and I shut the book for good.

Black is standing beside the door with his arms crossed when I finally emerge into the living room, but Edward is nowhere in sight.

"Where did Edward go?" I ask.

Black points to the back door. I follow and outside the open door, I see Edward standing in the middle of the yard. It has started to drizzle since we came, but the rain didn't seem to bother him. His eyes were set on the wooden cross in front of him.

Oh, no... oh, my god.

That's her grave.

My eyes darted to his back. He is motionless and his hands were fists at either side of him. I cannot imagine what this must be like for him. The fact that he is standing over his wife's grave. It doesn't matter how much she may have lied to him, deceived him and broken him, at the end of the day Rosalie was his wife. She was the woman who he was in love with since they were children. The mother of his daughter. The woman who he thought he was going to spend the rest of his life with and who was killed the night she tried to leave him.

I walk to him, ignoring the fact that it's raining and stand beside him. All I want is to comfort him, hug him and make it all better. If I could bring her back... I would.

My heart breaks when I see a tear trail down his cheek.

"Edward..."

"I thought it'd be different," he said, never looking away from the wooden cross. "This cabin, I mean. I thought it would be empty, hallowed, not at all… that."

"It feels like a home," I said.

Edward nods, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Then, his hand reaches out to mine, threading our fingers together and holding it in a tight grasp. I look back quickly, catching Detective Black leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest, looking at us. But when I look back at Edward, it's almost as if he doesn't care.

I wonder what a sight this might be for him, seeing us hand in hand, standing at the foot of Rosalie's first resting place. But something inside me, a small little voice inside my head whispers to me a small fragment of the truth. Edward and I are officially done, done with the lies, done with the betrayal, just done. And perhaps we are done trying to hold back whatever this is between us. Attraction? Revenge? Pure lust? I wasn't sure. The only thing I was sure about was that I wanted him and as he gave me another squeeze, I knew he also wanted me.

And perhaps, now we were done hiding.

Author's Note:

I missed Friday's upload, but here it is! Any guesses as to who they have in chapter fifteen?

Chapter Fifteen Preview -

"'Felix smiles. 'I got the third person, Jacob. I ran the images using facial recognition software and I got a match. We have him.'"