Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just play with them. This story is rated M, and is not suitable for younger readers. Story contains violence, coarse language and sexual "situations". Please do not read if any of these things offends you.

Note: [Beta'ed by: adt216]

Chapter 42 -"Faith"

Edward Cullen

"And how did that make you feel?"

"How the fuck do you think it made me feel? I got pissed off!"

"And were there any grounds to his accusation?"

"What? NO! Of course not! I was fucking upset. Hell, am I the only one gesturing with my arms when I get upset?"

"So you weren't going to hit her?"

"I would never hit her. I would never hurt her... She's too important."

x x x x x

"Edward! Edward! Slow down for crying out loud!"

I tried to ignore the voice, but soon I felt the owner of said voice grabbing my wrist and pulling me back. I stopped and turned to glare. Rosalie wasn't having it. She just glared right back.

"Let me the fuck go," I snarled.

"What happened?" she asked. "And why on earth are you crying?"

"I'm not crying," I argued.

She raised her hand and wiped my cheek, showing me her wet fingertips.

"Really? I guess your eyes are just sweating then," she replied sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes and yanked my wrist back. She sighed as I wiped my cheeks dry from traitorous tears.

"Talk to me, Ed, you know you want to," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. I clenched my jaw and shook my head, turning my gaze away from her. "Talk," she demanded.

"Talking gets me nowhere," I muttered. "Talking leads to shit." She didn't say anything; she just quirked an eyebrow at me, waiting patiently for me to continue. "She fucking turned me down, okay? Are you happy now? Alice is gonna be thrilled. Finally, Edward fucking Cullen gets his fucking heart broken. Oh wait, who even knew the bastard had a heart. HUH!" I said, throwing my arms out in frustration.

"She… what? Bella turned you down?" Rosalie echoed incredulously. "Seriously?"

"The Goose turned me down," I said, closing my eyes and pinching the bridge of my nose. "The fucking Goose turned me down." Before I knew it my shoulders were fucking shaking, and I felt my cheeks getting wet again. Fuck. What was I? A girl? Since when couldn't I handle a little rejection?

"Oh, honey," Rosalie said surprisingly softly. "What the fuck did the bitch say? You want me to kick her ass? Because I will. I don't care if the girl is a cripple; I can beat her ass down."

I turned my head up, glaring at her as I let my hand fall to my side. I knew that she was just kidding and trying to cheer me up, but I didn't appreciate it. Threatening to hurt the girl I loved – no matter how much she had hurt me – wouldn't cheer me up. It would only bring me down further.

"You think it's funny, don't you?" I snarled.

"No, I don't," she replied, sounding both honest and tired. "But you must admit that the situation is pretty amazing. You do realize that you, Edward Cullen, are standing here in a parking lot crying over some girl."

"She's not just some girl." And I'm not crying.

Rosalie rolled her eyes and smiled. "Yeah, I figured that when I caught you guys making out, and when I talked to her on our way upstairs."

"You talked to her?" I felt my anger flare.

If Bella turned me down because of something Rosalie had said to her, I swear to God I would… would what? Damnit. Why the fuck did everyone have to keep interfering anyway? First Jasper and now Rosalie. No fucking wonder Bella wanted to keep us low key – if we ever went public then everybody would want to have their say in it, trying to control what we had.

"I just asked her what you guys were doing," Rosalie replied as she inspected her well-manicured fingernails. "She got a little flustered when I asked her why she wasn't bragging about banging you. Why she wasn't telling the world."

"She's not banging me," I muttered.

"Anyway, apparently she doesn't want people to know. And that's all I know. I had to go and beat up my brother for keeping it a secret after that."

I sighed. "Did she tell you why she doesn't want people to know?"

"She said it was because it's none of their business, and I can respect that. I'm just surprised she's the one wanting to hide it, since she's the one who would gain the most by going public with you." She laughed an empty laugh and it was like nails on a chalkboard. "You're ruining your reputation for the girl, and she still turns you down. That girl is a mystery. Maybe she is as insane as people say she is."

"Have you told Emmett?"

"No, I had a feeling it wasn't my place to tell."

With that, I turned around and walked away. Rosalie was not the first person I would go to for a pep-talk. She didn't know how to help or cheer people up. It was as if she couldn't decide which route to take – was she going to tear Bella down just to make me feel better? Or would she focus on what Bella did to me instead. Apparently, she couldn't chose – so she decided to say good things about her at the same time as she tore Bella down. I didn't like it. Though, I did appreciate her not telling Emmett. At least the woman had some integrity.

It didn't matter if Bella had just turned me down – very thoroughly too, I might add – just minutes ago. Hearing people talk shit about her would do me no good. If people put emphasis on her flaws it would only put emphasis on my flaws too.

If I was in love with someone so full of faults, what did that in turn say about me?

I walked all the way home – ignoring the rest of my classes. It didn't even occur to me that I forgot all my shit in my locker until I was basically home already. I was only wearing a button up shirt and tank top underneath, so I was more than freezing when I finally entered the house.

The house was quiet as death, and neither of my parents' cars had been parked out front. So I guessed I was about to have a few hours to myself.

I ascended the stairs, feeling dread wash over me with each step. It was like a storm was brewing, and it would hit me any second now. I frowned as I reached the third floor and slowly walked towards my room. I pushed my door open and slammed it closed behind me.

And then I fucking crumbled.

Before I knew it I was rocking back and forth like a crazy person; my legs were bent and I was hugging them to me. I rested my forehead against my knees as I rocked – occasionally hitting my back against the door.

I wanted to throw up. Or maybe pass out. Maybe both? Or maybe just pass out.

Waking up covered in vomit would be disgusting.

Darkness and unconsciousness both seemed pretty appealing right about now.

It fucking hurt.

A strangled moan escaped me before I had any chance to stop it. My hands found their way to my hair, and I gripped it so tightly that my head started to hurt too. Although that pain was nothing compared to the ache in my chest. It was as if something was eating me up from the inside. I couldn't even begin to understand how something in my head could give such a strong physical reaction.

Bella hadn't hurt me physically – she had just spoken words. Words that logically only should be affecting my brain – not my chest. But her words fucking hurt more than anything I've ever experienced before. And they were all rushing back to me, assaulting me all over again.

Never letting me forget.

Bella could have fucking stabbed me with a knife, and that probably still would have hurt less than her words did.

I tried to rub my chest with my knuckles, while the other hand still gripped my hair, but it did nothing to soothe the ache. It fucking hurt, and I didn't know what to do to ease it. I could barely fucking breathe.

"You need help. Help that I can't give you. And I can't… I can't be what you need me or want me to be before you do."

I clenched my hand into a fist over my chest, resisting the urge to just hit myself where it hurt the most. My heart. I had a fucking heart. Who the fuck knew?

I fucking loved her, and there was no denying it either. I loved Isabella Swan. I couldn't believe I actually told her - especially in front of Jasper of all people.

I told her, and never had I spoken three simpler words that rang more true than those did at that moment. I loved her. Nothing would change that. Not even the way she so thoroughly rejected me by spitting my issues in my face like she did.

How could she use things that I could not control as reasons as to why she wouldn't be with me? I mean, it was almost like me saying that her mother was crazy and that was why I couldn't be with her.

She couldn't help that her mother was crazy any more than I could help that I…

I groaned.

Fuck, she was right.

I was a fucking mess. I could barely ride in a car – let alone drive one – like a normal person. I had blackouts and freak outs and I… I was a fucking mess.

And I could change that. All I needed was to say the word and my dad would call up the best shrink he could get a hold of. It didn't matter that I thought she needed help too. She had so many fucked up ideas about love and sex and life; still, she had yet to really talk to someone about that night. How the hell would she ever get past it if she didn't talk about it?

I loved her, and I would continue to love her even if she never got help.

She would always be my Sparrow.

x x x x x

"She's a fucking hypocrite. She wants me to get help when she's the one who's fucked up."

"So you don't understand where she is coming from?"

"Of course I fucking understand her. Her mother was crazy. I don't expect butterflies and fucking lollipops. I just expect her to trust me."

"Seems to me that she does trust you, otherwise she wouldn't have told you the truth."

"Truth… what fucking truth?"

"She recognizes the fact that she can't be your girlfriend. And by taking a step back she's allowing you both a chance to breathe and consider where you're going."

"She's a fucking hypocrite."

"I didn't say she was without faults. I just said that she may have helped you both."

"She needs help."

"I don't doubt that for a second."

x x x x x

She was a fucking hypocrite.

Or maybe she was just blind… and broken. She was so fucking blind and broken that she couldn't even see herself anymore. She was so blind she couldn't even see the darkness.

I resented her for it, or maybe I was resenting myself? It wasn't her fault that she was this way, but it was her fault that she kept being this way. She refused help. She wouldn't even acknowledge that she had a problem.

A huge fucking problem.

And I did too.

I remembered a cheesy-ass movie I watched with my family once. There was some woman in it, saying that if you truly loved someone you would let them go. Because if it's meant to be, she'll come back… if not, well, then it wasn't. Or whatever. Some shit like that. And if that was true, did it mean I had to let Sparrow go? Let her spread her wings and fly so to speak? If she really loved me, and if it was meant to be, she would fly back to me?

I didn't believe in fate or destiny. I didn't believe in shit like soul mates and people that were "meant to be." I only believed in what I was feeling, and what I was feeling right now was love. Love for her, and I didn't fucking want to let her go.

But what was the point in fighting for someone who didn't love you back?

x x x x x

"Tell me about how you act towards girls."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, are you very physical or are you more verbal? Do you like being intimate?"

"I'm a guy, of course I like being… intimate."

x x x x x

Dad came into my room later that afternoon. I was sitting on my couch, staring out the window as if I was catatonic or some shit. I didn't even realize I had sat like that for almost four hours, until he cleared his throat and I glanced at my alarm clock.

Time sure does fly when you're feeling sorry for yourself.

"Mind explaining why your school called today, saying you skipped a bunch of classes?" he asked with his serious father-voice. I sighed and shrugged, looking back out the window.

"I wasn't feeling it," I mumbled.

"Wasn't feeling what, Edward? You weren't feeling like going to class? Well, I don't feel like going to work every day, but I have to because it's my job. And going to school and attending your classes is your job," he said, and I couldn't find it in me to even roll my eyes at that statement. "So, is there a real reason why you decided to skip?"

I inhaled deeply, preparing myself to give him an honest answer. But as the air left my lungs, no words came with them. I had to settle with just shaking my head and shrugging. As if that was answer enough.

It wasn't.

Dad sighed deeply, and I could feel his disapproving eyes on me.

"You can't continue like this, son," he said.

"I know," I mumbled.

"So what do you suggest we do?" he asked. I knew that he wasn't really expecting an answer.

I turned my head and met his gaze.

"I need help."

x x x x x

Bella didn't come to school the next day.

I was standing with Emmett, Rose and Alice, watching as Jasper's car pulled up. He parked behind Crowley's van as usual, and when he appeared from behind it, I frowned when I realized he was alone. I figured she maybe had gotten a ride with someone else.

"Hey, sweetie," Alice said, giving Jasper his usual morning kiss. "Where's Bella?"

Jasper's eyes flickered to me before smiling at Alice.

The smile was forced. I wondered if I was the only one who noticed.

"She didn't feel that well," Jasper replied. "Her leg was bothering her, and her doctor thought that it might be best if she spent the day in bed to keep the pressure off."

Why did it sound like he was lying? Was he lying? It sounded like to me like he was making it up. But the others just nodded, accepting the explanation without further questions.

If he was lying it was probably because she asked him to lie.

I clenched my jaw and stared at the ground as I started walking away.

Fine, be that way.

So much for still being there for me, for still being my friend, even though we couldn't be together. Wow, I mean really, Bella? You can't live up to your promise, and now you're avoiding me because of it.

I snorted quietly to myself as I made my way inside.

If Bella was going to ignore me now, then I could ignore her right back.

Two can play this game.

I turned my head up, glancing at the girls as I passed them. Maybe I would feel better if I just got off. Maybe I was feeling like shit because I hadn't gotten laid in weeks. And why hadn't I gotten laid in weeks? Because Bella was a fucking prude. She was a fucking cockblock with a cast and crutch.

I did some inventory of the girls at our school, trying to decide what skank would get the honor of having my wonderful dick shoved up her pussy today.

Lauren? No, too blonde. Tanya? No. Just no. Irina? Yeah, maybe. Irina had dyed her hair brown. She had also cut it short and her eyes were blue, not brown…

What the fuck does it matter if her eyes are blue? You're not gonna fuck her eyes!

Bella's eyes are brown.

I groaned inwardly at myself.

Fuck my heart.

x x x x x

"Have you always used sex as a way to escape your problems?"

"I never used to have any problems."

"I'll take that as a yes."

x x x x x

Bella was a stubborn bitch, and some of her stubbornness must have rubbed off on me because I was feeling pretty damn stubborn right now. I wanted nothing more than to grab Jasper, throw him against a wall and demand him to tell me the real reason she wasn't at school. But I didn't. I managed to keep my feelings in check.

I didn't throw him against a wall; I barely even spoke to the guy, let alone asked him about Bella. He gave me a few weird glances during lunch, but he never said anything. I silently wondered if he was feeling good about himself. Did shit turn out to his liking? I mean, how different would Bella's and my conversation have gone if he hadn't interrupted us? He had no business being there, yet he had been. Screwing shit up and making her afraid of me.

Like when he mentioned how close I was to hitting her, even though that wasn't the case at all.

I never thought I would resent Jasper.

But I did now.

Shit would have gone completely different if he hadn't been there to affect her decisions. It was pretty clear that he had some kind of influence on her. I mean, he must have, right? Considering how much she seemed to trust him now, speaking to him about stuff she barely spoke to me about.

How did that even happen?

Hell, if I know.

School ended. Thankfully.

I grabbed my stuff from my locker before meeting up with Emmett. We walked in silence to the car, and I was surprised he hadn't asked me once about Bella. He hadn't even asked me why I wanted to take a walk with her. He didn't ask or say anything.

I wondered if Rosalie had filled him in on what she knew now, even though she said she wouldn't. Or maybe Emmett simply didn't care. Maybe he was over the whole bodyguard bit.

I glanced at him, snorting and shaking my head.

Who was I kidding? That was Emmett in a nutshell. He was a damn bodyguard. Protecting people with his scary fucking attitude.

We got in the car, still not speaking, and drove off.

I glanced at the speedometer, noting that we were going way too slow, and he was keeping his hands glued to the ten-and-two position on the wheel.

"Why the fuck do you drive like an old man for?" I blurted.

Emmett jumped at my sudden question but collected himself quickly.

"Shit, dude," he yelled. "You can't be quiet all day and then scare the crap out of me like that."

"Well, sorry," I said, rolling my eyes. "But would you mind answering the damn question?"

He sighed deeply, glancing at me, before focusing his eyes on the road again.

"Because you hate cars. You hate riding in them. You can't even drive them. I figured I would try to make shit easier for you by not driving like a mad man. I was hoping you would stop killing the upholstery if I did." He glanced at my hands and rolled his eyes. "But I guess that was a wasted effort."

I looked down at my hands to see what he was referring too. I almost groaned when I realized I was holding on and digging my fingers into the seat so tightly my knuckles were turning white. How could I not notice I was doing it?

I tried to let go, flexing my fingers, but I soon found myself gripping the seat again. But not as tightly this time. I sighed and tried to relax, another wasted effort considering I was sitting in a moving vehicle. I couldn't relax.

Emmett made a left turn, and I resisted the urge to tell him to just turn around and drive back. This was starting to feel like such a bad idea. The car soon came to a stop, and he glanced at me.

"So, you want me to pick you up later or…?" he asked, trailing off.

"I'll call you when I'm done," I replied as I got out of the car.

"Good luck," he said, giving me an awkward smile and wave. I rolled my eyes before flipping him off. That made him burst into laughter.

I turned towards the building and sighed.

The hospital.

I couldn't seem to get enough of this place.

x x x x x

Dr. Randall asked me about my blackouts. I wanted to tell him to fuck off.

But that wouldn't have been a "productive" way to spend our hour.

At least that was what my dad so nicely pointed out to me after making the appointment for me.

I didn't know what to tell Dr. Randall, so I decided to just shut up. He didn't seem to mind since he proceeded to tell me about the different kinds of blackouts there were instead. I wanted to ignore him and roll my eyes at his little lecture. The whole concept of having blackouts still sounded so insane to me. But the more he talked, the more I found myself listening – even though I pretended I wasn't by looking out the window.

"…is like being unconscious. That's not always the case. Some blackouts are purely moments of memory loss. You are still yourself, acting like yourself, but when it's all over you have just forgotten about it. They are pretty much no different than suffering from memory loss due to alcohol consumption. But also, they can be moments when you act out in fits of rage for example, and act completely out of hand, only to have your brain block it all out when it's all over," he explained, his voice calm.

"There are several reasons why your brain would decide to shut some memories out. Some may have been too traumatic for your brain to process, but some may also be just random. It can be genetic depending on the type of blackouts you're suffering from. But it's more likely that you've suffered from some kind of trauma to the head, which has caused these to occur. You may always have suffered from mild blackouts without knowing it before the added trauma made them worse. Drugs and alcohol can worsen the condition, of course, and there is no known way or cure to permanently get rid of the disorder."

I turned around, giving him a skeptical look. It all sounded like bullshit to me.

"So, if I'm suffering from that shit, why should I even care about it if I can't do shit about it?" I asked.

"Studies have shown that meditation can help, as well as exercises for the mind. Your father tells me you used to be into music. What changed?" he asked, letting his hand rest on the notepad in his lap.

"I woke up one morning, and I just wasn't anymore," I replied, turning back to the window.

"Do you remember how the music made you feel?"

"Free," I replied without even needing to think. "Music was liberating. I could play piano for hours. Guitar too. I completely lost myself in my music. Hours could pass, and it would feel like minutes."

"Would you say it made you enter a trancelike state?" he prodded.

I snorted and shrugged.

"Are you saying I blacked out when I played too?" I asked after a moment.

"Do you remember any time except for when you played music that you lost track of time?" he asked, ignoring my question.

"Are you asking me if I can remember forgetting shit?" He chuckled lightly, and I rolled my eyes. "No, I don't," I replied with a sigh.

In the reflection in the window, I could see him jot something down on his notepad.

"How about now? Since you've stopped with your music."

I shrugged again. "I can only think of the time I beat up my car… I don't know…"

He made another note and glanced at the clock.

Our time was up.

x x x x x

I called Emmett, and he came to pick me up. He asked me how it went, and I just shrugged. What was I even supposed to respond to that? I listened to a dude talk shit for an hour. How is that either good or bad? It was just another hour of my life that I would never get back.

We passed the school on our way back home, and my eyes widened when I spotted a very familiar face.

"STOP THE FUCKING CAR!" I yelled. Emmett jumped, almost swerving into the other lane, before getting his shit together and pulling up to the curb instead.

"What the hell, dude?" he complained, turning to me, but I wasn't listening. I was already out of the door, stalking up to the fucker who was hanging out by the entrance to the school's parking lot.

He must have heard me approach, because he turned around. Fear flickering past his face before it was replaced by a smug-as-shit smirk.

"Edward Cullen, long time no see," Jacob said, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back against his crappy motorcycle as I reached him.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked, my hands clenching into fists at my sides.

"Ah, you know, just checking out the neighborhood," he replied with a lazy shrug.

"Checking out the neighborhood, yeah right." I snorted. "You're gonna leave my girl alone. You got it, mutt?" I said, cutting right to the chase. He narrowed his eyes as he pushed himself away from his bike. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides now too.

"Your girl? Your girl? Bella is not yours. Just because you ran her over doesn't make her yours. What kind of delusional world are you living in? Some kind of 'you break it, you buy it' kind of place?" he spat.

"If that was the case, then you would already own her, since you were the one who fucking broke her in the first place!" I spat back. He opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. I chuckled darkly at him. "Hit a nerve, did I?" I mocked.

He responded by raising his fist and pulling it back. He was too slow though, because I ducked and punched him in the gut instead before running straight into him, pushing him against his bike. It toppled over with us, and Jacob did his best to block my advances as I punched him in the face.

"Edward! What the fuck are you doing!" Damn Emmett.

He tried to pull me off Jacob, but it was as if my fists couldn't get enough of punching that idiot in the face. How dare he show his disgusting face in my town? Wasn't the reservation good enough for him anymore?

"STOP! Bro, calm the fuck down!" Emmett yelled, effectively pulling me off Jacob.

"He deserved it!" I spat, tasting blood in my mouth.

"I'm sure he did," Emmett replied, pulling me away. "But I have no idea who this dude is."

I glared at Jacob, who was massaging his jaw. He didn't look nearly as beaten up as I would have liked. Did I even hit him at all? Yeah, his nose was bloody, but it didn't look broken.

Damnit, I should have broken his jaw.

"She'll never be yours," Jacob muttered. "You just want her because you know she's meant to be with someone else. Want what you can't have. The story of an asshole."

"If you even come close to her I swear I'll snap your fucking neck," I threatened, trying to get to him again, but I was held back by Emmett.

"Like she would even want you. My Bella has better taste than that," he said, glaring at me as he pulled his bike up.

"Bella?" Emmett echoed, and I could sense his confusion – or maybe it was shock.

"Yeah, Bella Swan," Jacob said. "Ever heard of her? You might want to remind your friend here that she's mine. She was mine even before I was born. We're meant to be together. With me, it would be as easy as breathing for her. Unlike with this shithole." He nodded towards me. "She would have to duck punches on a daily basis. Always living in fear of when he would snap."

"Hey, who the fuck are you to talk about my brother like that?" Emmett snapped, letting go of me as he stepped up in front of me instead.

"Your brother? He's your brother? Oh sweet Jesus, I feel sorry for you. I really do," Jacob said, putting a hand to his chest and giving Emmett a very condescending and pitiful look.

"Get your disgusting face out of here before I rip it off," Emmett threatened, taking a step closer to Jacob. I smirked at how Jacob couldn't hide his fear any longer as he quickly climbed on his bike.

He could talk the talk, but he couldn't walk the walk.

Coward.

"You're fucking crazy. You both are," he sputtered, before turning the engine and driving off.

We stood there, looking at him go. I wasn't going to move until he was completely out of sight.

"You beat that sorry shit up… for Bella," Emmett concluded after a moment. I turned my head to look at him, but he was still looking down the road.

I didn't reply.

"Shit, you got it bad for her, don't you?" he asked then.

I smiled sadly to myself and nodded.

"Yeah, I do."

"When the fuck did that happen?"

"I brought her a pen."

"What?"

I chuckled. "Come on, brother, let's get out of here."

x x x x x

It was almost eight pm when there was a knock on my door. Dad entered without waiting for me to tell him he could. I wanted to bitch at him for it, but something in his eyes made the comment stuck in my throat.

"It's Bella," was all he said.

I felt my stomach drop and the blood drain from my face.

"Wh-what about Bella?" I stuttered. "She okay?"

He frowned.

What the fuck was he frowning for?

"Would you mind very much if I drove you to see her, right now?" he asked hesitantly.

"What? Why? What is going on?" I asked, rising from the bed. I was seriously not appreciating the look on his face or the tone of his voice.

"Mrs. Weber said she is… well, she's asking for you," he explained. "I think it would be beneficial for her if she got what she's asking for right now."

"What the fuck happened?" I asked, my voice tight.

I swear to God, if the asshole Black got his hands on her…

Dad didn't answer me, instead he just nodded toward the door before leaving. I quickly grabbed my shit and followed him.

This was not about her leg.

x x x x x

Mrs. Weber pointed me in the direction of Bella's room, and I barely muttered thanks before walking over there. Her bedroom door was slightly ajar, and I gently pushed it open. Bella was lying in bed, shaking like a damn epileptic.

"Sparrow?" I said quietly, moving towards the bed. "You okay?"

She sniffled and slowly sat up in the bed. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her hair was a mess. It looked like she had been crying for hours.

"I-I-I'm sorry," she whispered. Her voice fucking broke me. I quickly made it over to the bed, sitting down so I could wrap my arms around her and hold her to me. I stroked her back and kissed her head, doing the little I could to soothe her.

"It's okay," I whispered back. "It's fucking alright."

"Don't… don't turn away from me, please," she whispered into my shirt. "Don't leave me. I need you. Don't shut me out. I need you too much. I c-can't do this without you." She sniffled. "You can't leave me, Edward. I'm sorry that I can't be what you need me to be, but you can't… you can't leave me. Not again."

"I'm here, don't worry… I'm always here for you, Sparrow," I reassured her softly, rocking her gently back and forth. Her shaking and sobbing subsided some, and was soon replaced by the occasional sniffle. She was still distraught though. "What happened?" I asked quietly.

I pulled back so I could put my hands on either side of her face. I needed to see her eyes.

"M-my mom happened."

x x x x x

"You say that Bella is important to you. Why?"

"Because she never judged me. Even when I threatened to kill her, and almost made good on my promise, she never judged me. It's like she just… she just fucking gets me."

"Do you treat her differently from all the other girls?"

"Is it wrong that I want to be with her?"

"That's not what I'm asking."

"Yes, I treat her differently. I want to take care of her. She's fucking important."

"How do you show your affection towards her?"

"Kisses… innocent touches. She doesn't want to go further."

"But that's not enough for you, is it?"

"It's hard to stop."

"Have you ever considered that there are other ways to show your affection towards her besides sex?"

"Sex is all I know."