A/N: Hi everyone! Thank you for all for the amazing support on last chapter. Means the world to me.

Sorry for being a day late...

I don't own Twilight, just my plot:)

Song suggestions: Daylight by Taylor Swift & Flashlight by Jessie J

I had to tell Edward the truth. All of it. If I didn't, I was going to lose him.

Who knows—I could still lose him after he hears about my involvement in Jane's death.

It took everything in me not to venture to Brooklyn at 2AM and bang on his door and confess all my sins. I had my coat on before I remembered Bree and retreated. I didn't need to get that innocent girl mixed up in all my mess. It was bad enough Edward got caught up in it without knowing what he'd signed up for.

I was determined to tell him tonight. He was supposed to be teaching me how to make his famous lasagna. Who knows if we would even get to that?

While I wasn't arrested following Jane's death, I was questioned extensively. For hours. Having to recount every detail from that night. While still protecting Alec, of course.

I felt guilty. They knew it; I knew it. It was written all over my face.

Last thing I needed was the Devilles to come after me. At least that was what my mom kept telling me. She convinced me I was doing the right thing. Why should another upstanding family be destroyed like ours?

I listened to her up until recently. I listened because I felt like I owed it to her. After all, I did cause this mess.

Now all I could think about was how I wasn't alone that night. I wanted to tell the truth. My truth.

The tabloids capitalized on my guilt and remorse. Killer Swan was what they dubbed me. They used every mistake or weak moment they ever captured with their cameras to prove I was in the wrong. That I deserved the treatment everybody doled out so easily.

Every photo on a yacht, every skimpy outfit for an themed event, every drunk encounter. Plastered on every newstand for the world to dissect.

In their eyes, I was a murderer. The judgmental looks from my so-called friends and associates solidified their opinions on the matter. Not to mention my own anguish whenever I did get the courage to leave the house.

I checked myself into a program voluntarily. The courts suggested a small drug course. I was surprised. I thought I should be punished more for my involvement.

Instead, I'd been punishing myself.

I had to get away from it all. The escape from the city did me good. I did every kind of healing remedy suggested to me. Talk therapy was the most helpful. I think I needed the validation.

After months of running and hiding, I knew I had to come back and face the proverbial music. But I couldn't go back to the brownstone. There were too many memories there. It would've been like going home to a ghost. A shell of who I was and will never be again.

It was for the best, but I wished I could have been this person when Jane was still alive. But the logical, more rational side of myself told me that I couldn't be this person until Jane was no longer here. What a sick joke.

That was the thing about grief—you feel like you're cheating on the deceased by moving on, by just living day-to-day, because they don't get the luxury.

Walking up the steps of the train station, I felt at ease upon my arrival in Brooklyn. I never really felt at home anywhere else, not like I did here. I knew that was mainly because my heart lived here now.

Brooklyn certainly captured my heart, and it had everything to do with the handsome man leaning against his truck. Edward insisted on picking me up from the station.

He wanted to come into the city to get me, but I told him it was unnecessary. I'd taken the train to Brooklyn and then either caught a cab or walked to his house many times. We compromised and he said he'd pick me up here instead. It was only a ten minute walk to his apartment, but he argued it was getting darker earlier and he'd feel better if he could drive me.

It was his "free" night where Esme had grandma time with Bree, so we were sneaking in a moment to ourselves.

Not that I didn't love being with Bree, but I did cherish the time I got to spend with just Edward.

I knew if things progressed in our relationship, I would be around his daughter more, and if we grew even more serious, one day I might fill the role of her stepmom.

I shook my head, trying to rid myself of pipe dreams as I ran to the one I never wanted to run from again.

Hopefully I wouldn't be the one getting pushed away.

"Bella!" Edward waved, making sure I knew where he was.

Always so damn attentive. Loving him has been the easiest thing I'd ever done.

Yes—I love him. I love him so much I want to shout it off the rooftops. And I know he loves me. Aside from his slip-ups, the way he looked at me said it all. It was the way all girls wanted to be looked at. The way they should be looked at.

I should be overjoyed—instead I was fucking terrified.

Edward loving someone like me wasn't bad for me, but for him…

It was a catastrophe.

The distance between us grew shorter, so I shook my head in hopes of stopping my pondering—brooding was more like it.

Once I was within reach, his strong arms engulfed me in the biggest hug. Every time he held me like this, I felt like I was protected, safe from all the evils in the world. It was a foreign feeling, but one I savored.

"Missed you, baby." Edward pulled back from the hug and winked at me.

Sexy fucker.

His hand never left mine as we walked to his truck. Edward, always the gentleman, opened the door for me.

He apprehensively let go of my hand. I loved how Edward always wanted to have some sort of connection to me—the intertwining of our fingers, his hand on the small of my back, our bodies pressed close together when we were side by side. It was like he was holding me back from running away, trying his best to keep me grounded. Can't say I hadn't thought of it, once or twice.

He showed affection toward me proudly. Never fearful of what people might think. Granted he didn't know the full extent of who I was, but I had to change that tonight.

"Earth to Bella." Edward chuckled, popping his chewing gum.

I realized we were already on the road. God, I needed to play more attention to my surroundings.

"Sorry. I spaced there for a second." The car jolted from a pothole. Gotta love New York.

He laughed again, making me more uneasy. What if I never heard him laugh at me again, with me?

"You do that a lot, you know," Edward said with a smirk. "Space out. I mean, thankfully I don't mind having conversations with myself."

I gave him a small smile, secretly hoping the conversation would die and I could brood more in silence.

Yeah, Bella because that was what you really needed—to be more in your head.

I bit the inside of my cheek nervously and looked out the window at the houses rushing past us. We'd just reached a familiar intersection when a car cut us off.

The brakes shrieked from the exertion, and I was jolted backward, my head hitting the headrest.

"Come on!" Edward threw his hands up dramatically. We were stopped in the middle of the intersection going straight toward Bar. He muttered "asshole" under his breath.

The kid in the other car was inches away from Edward's front bumper. Thank God for his quick reflexes. The truck rattled from the incident. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself from a potential panic attack.

"Are you all right?" Edward asked, looking at me.

I didn't trust my voice not to shake and give me away, so I nodded quickly and then looked back at the careless driver who decided to make a right on red.

The smartass in the other car held up his middle finger and continued to cut Edward off.

He was probably around my age, smoking a joint and laughed menacingly at Edward's annoyance. I glanced up to see a red light photo camera above. Won't be so funny when you get a ticket in the mail!

Edward continued driving once the light was actually green. We were only a few blocks away from the bar. After Edward had called me out on spacing out, he repeated what I'd missed—he needed to stop there to pick up the wine inventory list. He apologized for us having to stop a few times. I was still shaken up by the incident from moments ago, but I didn't want him to know, so I just told him it wasn't a big deal and apologies weren't needed.

Ever since Jane's accident, cars made me nervous. I'd seen firsthand the damage they could do. How quick an accident happened, but damn did the pain linger. The first few months after Jane's death, I had to take a Xanax each time I rode in a car. It was part of the reason I never pursued getting my license. I was scared by the idea of being in control of a car, though my therapist once said it was the lack of control of my life that truly terrified me.

Edward had mentioned once or twice about teaching me how to drive, but I never entertained the idea. Just the thought of potentially having more blood on my hands was enough for me to dismiss his offer.

Before long, we pulled up in front of Bar. Through the windshield, I spotted that the garbage bins were still out front. Edward wasn't going to be happy about that. Whoever started their shift was in charge of pulling the bins around to the back of the building.

"Fucking Jake," Edward muttered as he turned the key to shut the engine. He turned to me. "Do you want to come in? I'll only be a few minutes either way."

I shook my head. "No, it's fine. I'll stay in the car." I didn't want to witness his wrath on Jake.

Edward pursed his lips as if he wanted to say something but instead held out his hand. "Here turn the car back on if you get chilly."

We were at the point where the weather in NYC was unpredictable. Some days you needed a sweater, others a coat. Most times, you needed a coat in the morning and a light sweater in the afternoon.

He scooped his finger underneath my cardigan. "Always weather-confused, my love," Edward teased, his eyebrows waggling.

My eyes widened at the word "love." My heart raced and my palms began to sweat. I didn't know what to say, so I just took the key from him.

Thankfully he wordlessly exited the truck. I prayed Jake's mishap would distract Edward enough from remembering this uncomfortable exchange.

Edward was kind, easy-going, and soft-spoken, but when push came to shove, he had no problem being assertive in voicing what he needed and expected, especially when it came to his business. It was one of the many things I loved about him.

Fuck!

Again with the love word.

A few moments later, my phone buzzed. I hoped it wasn't Renee—no way was I in the mood to deal with her antics. I looked down and had to read the message twice before I could process it.

I'm back, B. Heard you were slumming it with some bottom feeder. Let me know when you're ready to really party. You owe me a good time.

It didn't take a brain surgeon to figure out who this message was from. The devil himself. No, Alec was probably worse than the devil.

I took a deep breath and let out a scream. One glance out the truck window told me I had an audience to my meltdown. The dog walker across the street started running with dogs in tow. Now I wished the text was from fucking Renee.

Garlic permeated the air, Frank Sinatra was playing from the record player, and I was biting my now nonexistent fingernails.

Edward took a sip from his wine glass, his lips pursing from the tart notes in this specific bottle he'd snagged from Bar.

He continued peeling garlic, and I attempted chopping an onion but my eyes kept on watering.

When Edward promised to teach me how to make his famous lasagna, I didn't think I would run away crying but now anything was possible.

The onions were a good excuse, but in actuality, all I wanted to do was cry. I wanted to curl up at home under my blanket and cry. But I really didn't know where my home was anymore.

The brownstone was certainly not my home. I knew I wanted my home to be here with Edward, but who could love me after what I'd done.

I was worse than fucking Alec in some ways, and that was saying something.

I set down the knife and decided to rip off the Band-Aid. He needed to know; it was only fair.

"Edward, I—" I blinked.

"No," he interrupted, shaking his head.

I furrowed my eyebrows, confused. How did he know what I was about to say? Did he Google me?

No—he would never.

"No?" I asked hesitantly, afraid of what he was going to come out of his mouth. I couldn't even look at him, so I studied my wine glass. Pretty purple hue.

Edward walked around the island so that he was standing in front of me. He reeked of the garlic, enough to ward off a vampire.

"No, I'm not going to let you break up with me. I know you're scared. Fuck, I'm scared. But you can't give up on us." He grabbed my chin so I was looking at him square in the eye. "I love you, Bella."

My eyes widened at his confession. I knew he felt this way for a while—he'd almost slipped up a few times—but to hear it out loud … My heart swelled a hundred times.

"I know you might not be there yet, but I just need you to know I'll wait. I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you." Edward huffed, his green eyes piercing into my own. It was like he was pleading with me to believe him.

But he didn't need to prove himself to me. I knew exactly who he was, and it was time for him to know who I was as well.

"You might not want to make those promises just yet," I muttered as I grabbed my glass and chugged the remainder of my wine.

"Did you hear me, Bella?" Edward fumed, shaking his head in disbelief. I had never seen him so passionate. I was sure even Jake didn't get scolded like this. "I love you." He took a deep breath.

"Yeah, well you're in love with a killer!" I shouted, my chest heaving. I couldn't control my reaction.

All I wanted to do was tell Edward I loved him back and bask in that blissful feeling. But instead I had to face the music.

The room went quiet. You could hear a pin drop. Everything was spinning. I relived the last year and a half on a loop in my head. All the looks of disdain, being exiled from the only home I ever knew, my name and face plastered everywhere effectively killing my reputation. My own mother thought of me as a killer. All I could do was stay quiet, until now apparently.

His eyes widened at my confession. So many different reactions came across his face. He composed himself and studied my face.

"It's time I told you the truth. I haven't been 100% honest with you. About Jane." A lump formed in the back of my throat just saying her name.

Edward sat down on the stool next to me. Only when he grabbed my hand did I realize how badly I was shaking.

I had no idea where to start, so I might as well address the most important part first. "I killed my sister," I whispered as chills covered my arms. "I killed Jane."

"Start at the beginning," Edward said apprehensively, never letting go of my hand.

And so I went through Jane and my tumultuous past. The highs and lows. Her need for adventure. My need for my mother's approval. How far into high society I dove just for a little notoriety. I told him about the recreational drugs I did and about how hard I used to party.

And then I got to that night.

"Alec was just somebody I passed time with. He meant—means—nothing to me," I confessed. "I never felt like this before." I motioned between him and me.

Edward's lip turned upwards, almost smiling.

"He was supposed to accompany me to an event for a big brand I was going to represent. But I never made it to the party, and Chanel dropped me as soon as the news broke."

I paused, trying to gather my thoughts and strength. I continued to explain Jane showing up at my door. How she was mad at me for following my mother's orders. How odd she was acting that night. And then everything that happened after Alec showed up. I explained Alec and Jane's history of hating each other.

"I gave her the drugs that killed her." I sobbed, unable to hold it all in anymore. Everything poured out about how Alec brought the drugs, but how I had been the one who encouraged Jane to partake. I was so messed up and just looking for connection.

"And if that wasn't bad enough, I threw her cigarettes in the street." I heaved, as Edward rubbed my back in circular motions. I told him how Alec was egging on our fight, just making things worse. "The car—it came so fast. I couldn't … I didn't …. I killed her." I cried, trying to wipe my tears but they just kept coming. There was no use. "As if killing my sister wasn't bad enough, I have her baby's blood on my hands too. She was pregnant. Eight weeks."

There was silence for a few moments before Edward rose from his seat. I was fully prepared for Edward to throw me out of the house. Excommunicate me from his life.

I closed my eyes, bracing for his face to mirror everyone else's who knew the truth. Killer Swan.

"Bella, open your eyes."

I shook my head. Not yet. I couldn't face him. I was an ugly crier.

"Open your eyes." He reached for my other hand, the warmth of his seeping into my palms.

Slowly, my eyelids fluttered open, and I took in his face, inches from my own. I swallowed loudly, afraid of what was going to come next.

I prided myself on my strength, but I didn't know if Edward hating me was something I wanted to be strong for.

Instead when I was brave enough to look into green eyes, they bore into my own and had matching tears pooling in the corners.

"Bella, I'm so sorry," Edward whispered earnestly, grabbing my hands even tighter. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

He was the first person in my life who ever said sorry to me about Jane. I believed I didn't deserve condolences from anybody.

I cried harder, full-on blubbering at this point. I let go of his hands so that I could clutch his shirt and burrow myself into his chest.

"I can't believe you've been blaming yourself all this time." He shook his head incredulously. "You couldn't have known, Bella."

"But—" I started to speak but was silenced by one of his fingers.

"You couldn't have known any of that was going to happen. Now do I condone the drugs? No. It's reckless, but I get you were young and in that lifestyle. There's no way you could have known those drugs would kill her. There's no way you could have known the car was going to whip around the corner and hit her. You didn't know she was pregnant. And you were intoxicated yourself, clearly in no frame of mind for sound decision-making. You're blaming yourself, and for what?" Edward reasoned, caressing my cheek tenderly. "You didn't kill anyone. It was Jane's choice to come to your house that night. It was Jane's choice to do drugs. It was Jane's choice to run in the street to grab a pack of cigarettes. It was a really shitty thing that happened, but it wasn't your fault. She made her choices, but you're making yours now and you're choosing wrong."

I looked at him, puzzled about the last sentiment.

"You're living in limbo. It's obvious you have been since your sister passed, and instead of being proud of how far you've come, you are mourning the fact that you're living and getting to make your choices. I know your upbringing was unconventional. I know you had ups and downs in your old life. What young twenty-something doesn't? Especially when money is involved. But I'm sorry if nobody's ever told you this, but you are worth something without a reputation, without praise from snobby rich people—no offense. Your worth isn't measured in what people think of you. It's measured in what you do for the world." Edward trailed off. "Sorry I'm just … I'm sorry."

I crushed my lips against his. My elbow knocked over something, presumably my wine glass. Fuck it. It didn't take long for him to catch up.

His tongue licked my lips, asking for entrance. I happily obliged.

I pulled away all too soon. There was something I needed to say.

"Edward?" I made sure he was looking at me. His lips plump from our makeout session. I smiled softly.

He nodded for me to continue.

"I love you too." I barely got the "too" out before his lips were back onto mine and I was being carried out of the kitchen.

I didn't need a newspaper to tell me where I was or who I was supposed to be with.

I was exactly where I was meant to be.

For the first time in my life, everything looked like it was going to be okay.

A/N: Everything's good...for now. Predictions for our love birds? Much love!