Hello again!

So this is only part of the chapter I am almost finished, but it was getting unruly in length and I ended up splitting it. That also means you wont have to wait too long for the next installment!!

This chapter has more details in the description of the Cullen's house, and there is one or two things that ive changed slightly since beginning this story. Dont worry, it's nothing important to the plot, just sprinkling some flavour on. But if you notice anything, just chalk it up to the fact that Edward's description is different because its normal to him, so he doesnt see the details as much.

Enjoy!

BPOV

By the time three o'clock drew near on Saturday, I had already spent most of the day trying to distract myself and use all my nervous energy before Edward arrived to pick me up. After a night of restless sleep, I had woken up just as the sun had started to rise. Needing to occupy my mind and hands I set about stripping my bed and doing two loads of laundry, as well as making an apple pie to take to the Cullen's home later. I thoroughly cleaned the entire apartment, moving furniture to vacuum underneath and pulling things off shelves to dust behind them. When it was finished, every surface sparkled and the spicy smells from the apples permeated the entire apartment, providing a comfort I didn't feel inside my head.

I couldn't describe the feeling I got when I thought of the upcoming meeting with Maria's parents, Carmen and Eleazar Di Nali. It was an odd combination of anticipation and dread. A part of me was eager to make another connection with my sister's family; to see on the other side of the curtain.

I wondered what they had been like as parents, what Maria was like as a daughter. Were they a happy family? Edward said they were, but hearing it and seeing the love in their eyes were two different things. I wanted to know what their favorite memory of her was and to see each and every photo they had from the day they brought Maria home from the hospital. Besides Edward, they were the closest I would ever get to my sister, and deep down I wanted their approval.

The idea that they could have easily been my parents instead of Charlie, that I may never have had Emmett, or Jake, or Rose, or Jasper, or any of the people who made me who I was had been plaguing me. But yet I couldn't help but wonder who I would have been and if that life would have mirrored Maria's. How much of her life would mine have followed? Would I have been a lawyer? Would I have spoken Italian? Would I be married to Edward?

Was a coin tossed to decide which baby went to which family? How easily I could have ended up a completely different person.

In the back of my mind, I couldn't help but worry about Edward's reaction. The idea of me meeting Carmen and Eleazar really seemed to throw him. It was like he had compartmentalized everyone involved into isolated boxes, and he was only just now realizing how untenable that was.

But I also wondered if seeing me with both his and Maria's family was going to be triggering for him, like a postcard from the past. He had talked about feeling haunted after Maria had died, how he'd sometimes think he saw her out of the corner of his eye, back at their old apartment in Chicago. He'd also told me about what that day in the hospital, when we first saw each other, was like for him. How he thought he must have gone insane, until he realized I was real.

Now I would be standing where she had stood, with the people they loved. It was like a Jenga tower of emotions, waiting to topple down and I once again questioned why I agreed to do this; or why I thought I could do it alone.

I had sworn Jasper to secrecy, knowing that Emmett and Rose were working this weekend, trying to get in a few more shifts to cover the longer leave they both plan to take once their twins arrived. I knew either of them would call out of work to be with me in a moment if I asked, and Jasper wouldn't take that much convincing to help me if I needed him. But I didn't want to bother any of them, so now I had to be a big girl and face this by myself.

I was on the verge of caving and trying to call Rose when my phone lit up with a text from Edward.

E: I'm out the front

I hadn't realized I had been sitting on the sofa, chewing on my lip while in deep thought for so long, until I saw the time at the top of my screen. Quickly texting him back, I jumped up to grab my purse and the pie, whose residual warmth kept my fingers toasty as I locked up and made my way down to meet Edward in the parking lot.

"Hi," I greeted, as I climbed into his pleasantly heated car. I heard dreamy music playing through the speakers, but Edward reached forward and turned down the strumming guitar and wispy male voice.

"Hey," he said back apprehensively. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," I insisted weakly. It was obvious he didn't believe me.

"I'm so sorry you've been pushed into this, Bella," Edward sighed. "I wish I could have held it off until you wanted to do this."

Edward had apologized a few times since Thursday afternoon, and each time I tried to assure him that it was okay, that I was okay, but he kept beating himself up. I wished I could convince him that he didn't need to be sorry because he wasn't responsible for any of this. He was just the messenger and he didn't deserve to be shot.

"You don't have to keep apologizing, you know. I don't blame you and I wish you'd stop blaming yourself," I said adamantly.

He didn't respond, just gave me a nod in acknowledgement of what I had said. Edward was turning out to be just as stubborn as I was. The atmosphere in the car was a little tense as he started the car and drove out of the parking lot. I knew it wasn't tension between Edward and me, but with what the rest of the day would hold.

After around five minutes of quiet worry, Edward seemed to relax a little. "What have you got there?" His eyes narrowed in on the covered pie in my lap as his nostrils flared.

"Apple pie," I giggled lightly, relieved as the unease lifted more and finding the look on his face comical. "I had some time this morning and needed something to do. Plus it's always good manners to show up with an offering when you're going to someone's house for the first time."

Edward chuckled. "I'll let you break that one to my mom. She's been so excited to meet you, she's been cooking all day."

My face dropped. I hadn't thought about what Edward's mother might have made for the meal we would be having later, and now I felt unsure. "Oh. I can just leave it in the car…" I started, a little dejected.

"No!" Edward interrupted, waving his hands. "That's not what I meant at all. It honestly smells delicious and I'm looking forward to trying it later. And Mom will be thrilled because apple pie is her favorite."

The rain had cleared earlier in the day but the light from the afternoon sun bounced brightly off the still wet road. Dazzling sparkles caught on the pavement as we made our way through the streets. The area we were heading to was in the same direction as Evergreen Academy. However, as we passed the way Jasper and I would normally go to get to the school I noticed the houses were getting bigger, and more expensive. As Edward drove, I noticed we were heading towards Laurelhurst, where many of the rich and famous that called Seattle home lived. It made me wonder how well off Edward's family actually was.

That question was answered pretty quickly when we pulled off the road into a long brick driveway. The house itself looked like a cross between a fairytale cottage and a Tudor manor house. The house was large and made of red brick, but the extended entrance was rendered white and its tall peaked roof held a small, round stained glass window. Unfortunately, I couldn't see what the design was from the outside with the angle of the light. The front door, which almost reminded me of the one in the house the Halliwell sisters lived in on Charmed, had an exquisite stained glass panel that shone like a precious stone in the middle of a jewelry box, thanks to the lights from inside the house. The delicate art nouveau oak leaf pattern, framed by larger matching glass panels that were inset into the walls surrounding the doorframe, seemed to glow like a beacon that drew people near.

I could see a large chimney on the left side of the house, peering up over the high roof with chimney pots that looked like crowns from this distance. There were two bay windows, bordered with crossed wooden beams, and multiple small panes of glass. The whole building looked like it was out of a movie, or an architectural digest magazine.

The landscaping I could see from here on the driveway looked amazing as well. Bushes pruned into swirled cone shapes sat in pots on either side of a small set of stone steps that led to a cobbled path to the front door. Other pots filled with lavender were placed at equal intervals around the drive. To the right of the house was a beautiful flower garden, many of the rose bushes still blooming in an array of colors, even in the cooler weather. Brick arches covered in vines, some with bright pink roses in full bloom, divided that part of the garden from what lay beyond and obscured the view. A small crop of trees blocked any view of the neighbors, giving the illusion of rural isolation.

I was absolutely gobsmacked. This was the home Edward grew up in? Driving up and parking in front of the garage, which is what I assumed was the building on the other side of the drive, facing the house, because of the barn doors, was a normal occurrence for him. I suddenly felt very self-conscious that the pie dish I'd brought was second-hand from a Savers.

What must Edward have thought when he saw my family home? Dad's house was a modest three-bedroom home, though it had originally just had two bedrooms. Dad had an extension put on when Emmett came to live with us, adding a larger master bedroom and ensuite downstairs so that Emmett and I could share the old upstairs bathroom. It had just been the three of us, so it's not like we needed much more space. My house could have fit inside the Cullen's at least three times over. It was kind of intimidating.

Edward must have seen something uncomfortable on my face because he paused before he opened his door. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I said, though it didn't sound convincing. I tried to reassure him with a smile, but I didn't that was very convincing, either. "So, you're like… rich, huh?"

"What?" he asked, seeming startled by my question. Still, he shook his head as he laughed lightly, obviously relieved that was what I was worried about and not who I'd be meeting later. "No. My mom inherited this house from her grandparents."

That did nothing to alleviate my unease. "So you're from old money?"

He laughed again at that as he reached over and opened his door. "I wouldn't call the twenties 'old' money. And I wouldn't call us rich. We're comfortable."

"That is so something a rich person would say," I muttered under my breath as he got out. It mustn't have been quiet enough because I could hear Edward's deep chuckle through the closed car door.

I had gathered my bag and shifted the pie to get a good grip on it, so I wouldn't drop it when I got out of the car. Before I could reach for the handle, Edward had pulled it open from the outside.

"Thank you," I said softly.

My nerves had returned with full force the moment my feet were on the ground.

Edward didn't move after we were both standing outside his car. He looked at me with worry, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Like he was searching for the right words, but every time they were on the tip of his tongue, they either left him or he either lost his nerve.

"Are you okay?" I asked softly, my voice full of concern.

Letting out a long breath, he laughed sardonically. "I… I'm fine. I'm just so sor…"

"STOP!" I halted him in a yelp. "Please stop apologizing. I've told you it's unnecessary."

With a huff, Edward looked away. It seemed like he was trying to get control over whatever he was about to say before I cut him off. Or perhaps there was more to his guilt and he was trying to rein in more difficult emotions than I'd previously thought. Or maybe he doesn't want me here.

I suddenly felt very apprehensive. Worry filled me. What if Edward didn't actually want me here? In all the time we spent together, he rarely talked about his family, just the basics. I knew his parents' names and what they did for work, and that he had a younger sister named Alice. But besides that, Edward had only shared things that directly involved Maria.

Of course, I knew more about him. Just not much about them.

"Hey, try not to worry so much," Edward said kindly, as he tugged carefully on my chin to release my bottom lip from between my teeth.

He put his hand on my lower back gently and smoothly led me across the driveway, toward the cobbled path. "I already know my parents are going to love you, and I'm sure Carmen and Eleazar will too."

When we finally reached the spectacular front door and I still hadn't said anything, Edward turned to me with concern on his face.

"It's going to be okay," he said, trying to reassure me, though I suspect it was just as much for himself.

I took a deep breath to calm my racing heart, giving him a nod. "Alright. I'm ready," I said with as much confidence I could muster.

Without knocking, Edward opened the door and let us in.

What greeted me was just as breathtaking as the outside. Before us was a large oak staircase that went up to a landing before turning at a right angle to continue up to the second floor. Through the hallway to the left of the staircase, I could see a large floor-to-ceiling window that provided a direct view down a lush green lawn to water, and trees beyond. The Cullen's home wasn't just in Laurelhurst, it backed directly onto Lake Washington.

"Hey!" Edward called out into the house. "We're here."

Taking a quick look around, there was a tastefully decorated sitting room to the right that looked out onto the flower garden through one of the Tudor-style bay windows with luxurious-looking curtains hung on either side, so they could be drawn across to hide whoever was seated there. To the left looked to be a larger, airy living room, a large fireplace directly across from the arched doorway, and two white lounges and a pair of armchairs arranged in a U-shape around a large square coffee table.

From inside, I could now see the design of the round stained glass at the peak of the front wall that I couldn't see earlier. Two branches crossed the window diagonally. Four different colored birds sat in the boughs, two birds on each branch.

At the sound of someone approaching from the second floor, I turned around to see a beautiful woman, wearing a soft cream sweater tucked artfully into tan woollen slacks with a wide matching belt, coming down the stairs.

She was unmistakably Edward's mother. Esme Cullen had the exact same piercing emerald green eyes as her son. Her hair, a few shades lighter than Edward's so it was more caramel than auburn, fell in stylish waves to her shoulders. Her face was kind and she had a welcoming smile, which helped to calm a few of my nerves.

"Well, hello there," Mrs Cullen called down.

Her eyes widened as she drew nearer to us, taking me in for the first time. I could see a million thoughts racing behind her eyes, probably cataloging all the resemblances between me and how she remembered Maria. It was odd to see the same expression I'd seen so many times on Edward's face on another person.

To her credit, Mrs Cullen recovered quickly. By the time she was standing beside us, her face was once again cheerful.

Stepping forward, Edward introduced us. "Bella, this is my mother, Esme Cullen. Mom, this is Bella Swan."

Mrs Cullen's smile broadened. "Well, of course, you're Bella. Hello, dear. It's such a pleasure to meet you."

I swallowed trying to dispel the nervous energy causing a lump in my throat. " Hello, Mrs Cullen. It's a pleasure to meet you, too," I said, a little sheepishly.

"Please, call me Esme. It wouldn't feel right for you to call me anything else." Esme reached out to rub my arm in a reassuring gesture.

I gave her a soft, grateful smile in return. "Okay," I said, hoping my voice was loud enough for her to hear.

We stood for a moment in stilted silence before Esme broke the tension. "What have you got there?" she asked, pointing to the dish in my hands.

"Oh," I said with a little nervous giggle. "I-I made an apple pie. I thought we could have it for dessert later. Or you could just keep it, or freeze it. But I can also take it home because my brother will eat it either way…" I could feel myself rambling, so I let my voice trail off. Feeling embarrassed, I simply held the pie dish out to her.

"How delightful! We will definitely have it for dessert later on. I'm sure it's going to be delicious," Esme beamed, taking it from me. I was sincerely grateful she ignored my awkward word vomit. "Please, come in."

We followed her through the living room and into a kitchen I would kill for. A large island with white marble countertops and a sink dominated the center of the space, white sphere pendant lights with brass fixtures hanging above it. The cabinets along the left side wall were painted a blue so deep it almost looked black, and a large and expensive-looking six-burner range cooker was built into the counter underneath them. I couldn't see a refrigerator, but two large cupboards could be secreting it from view. The white walls and tiles on the backsplash broke up the rich color, balanced out by the abundance of light that flooded the room.

From this new vantage, I could see it wasn't only the wall at the end of the hallway that had been converted to a floor-to-ceiling window. The whole back wall of the open-plan kitchen and dining areas was also completely made of glass.

"Would you like something to drink? Tea? Coffee?" she asked, setting the pie down on the center island.

I didn't know if adding caffeine to my already jittery system was a good idea, so I settled for water.

"Your home is spectacular," I told Esme, as she filled a glass from a jug in the refrigerator, which did turn out to be hidden behind one of the long cupboards. "I especially love the stained glass at the front. They are truly beautiful."

"Thank you," she gushed. "I know it all looks quite ostentatious now, but Tudor Revival was all the style when my grandparents built the house in 1924. It was a bit of a passion project for my grandmother, actually. Believe it or not, but the door was the inspiration for the whole house."

I could tell Esme was in her element. Edward had mentioned that she was an interior designer, so it didn't surprise me that she had a profound connection to the building. "The door was originally from their house in Virginia. Granny loved it so much that she had it taken out and brought across the country when they moved here. Then she had the border panels, and the rose window with the birds made to match. She chose every detail of this house with complete care."

"And then you move in and desecrate it by ripping out the back wall," Edward chuckled sarcastically.

Esme slapped her son playfully on the arm. "You watch it, mister! I happen to think Granny would have wholeheartedly approved of the change. She was a woman that appreciated vision and she had no problem changing and making things her own. And it's not as if the windows were thrown away."

Edward chuckled, adoration for his mother shining from his eyes. This was obviously some sort of family inside joke.

It was good to see that Edward's relationship with his family was so open and affectionate. I'd begun to wonder if things were strained between them, seeing as he hardly mentioned them. Even though I knew he'd returned to Seattle to be closer to them, there could have been many other reasons why they'd wanted him to come back. I was glad to know that Edward had such a good family to support him after everything he'd been through.

Before I knew it, Esme's eyes were back on me. They were just as piercing as Edward's, and just as kind.

"I hope you enjoy roast chicken for dinner, Bella. It's a bit of a favorite in the house." She had a look on her face that I couldn't place, like a combination of amused, embarrassed, and a little…smug?

"Mom," Edward groaned softly. I couldn't decide if he sounded frustrated or embarrassed.

I was a little confused by his reaction. Esme said it was a favorite, but it didn't sound like Edward was looking forward to the meal. The smile on his face, however, showed that this choice had amused him more than it annoyed him. Perhaps this was another inside joke the Cullens shared.

"Sorry," she apologized insincerely, giggling to herself. She then shot me a very similar smile to the lopsided smirk I'd seen on Edward and rolled her eyes.

It was funny to see the dynamic between Edward and his mother. I hadn't grown up with a mother, Sue having only come into my dad's life when I was an adult, so I didn't have the most experience with them. I didn't have many memories of Renee, my adoptive mother, but what I did remember painted her as distant. Anything Emmett told me about what he remembered only confirmed those memories.

Esme exuded an energy that was both genuinely caring, while also being concerned. From the few moments I'd known her, I could tell she loved her family deeply and they were at the center of her world. She was also able to have fun with them. She was joking with Edward, laughing when he made fun of her and ribbing him right back. Their relationship seemed light and full of love, showing the real interest they, and the rest of their family had in each other.

I couldn't keep the grin off my face as I watched them.

"I love roast chicken," I finally replied. "Thank you, so much for having me. I'm sure it's going to be delicious." There was no doubt in my mind that this woman was also an amazing cook.

My words had the opposite effect than I expected. Esme's face fell slightly, losing a little of the joyful spark she'd had seconds ago as she'd laughed with Edward. "I wanted to say that I… I truly am sorry that our meeting is under these circumstances," she said softly, her beautiful jade eyes tinged with worry and guilt. "Edward did tell us that he was leaving when to tell Carmen and Eleazar about all of this up to you. But when faced with the choice that would mean betraying one side no matter which path I took, I chose to not lie to my oldest friend instead of respecting my son and your wishes. I am very sorry for any hurt I may have caused you, Bella, and I hope that you can forgive me."

I was taken aback by Esme's apology. I'd tried not to admit it, but I'd been apprehensive about meeting her for that very reason. Edward had said she'd first brought me up to Carmen inadvertently, but part of me had wondered if Esme had told Carmen on purpose because they were best friends. Seeing her contrition soothed the last of my worries that still lingered from our introduction.

A strong need to comfort Esme, to assuage her guilt, filled me. Her genuine apology made me feel a little guilty for thinking she was capable of being so uncaring. "You don't need to apologize."

"Yes, I do," she stressed. "I'm sincerely sorry that I was thoughtless. I may not have agreed with Edward when he asked us to not say anything to the Di Nalis, coming from the perspective of a parent. But that doesn't mean it was my place to tell Carmen, no matter the circumstances. I would hate for it to ruin any chance of us getting to know you because you don't feel comfortable around me."

Growing up, my dad instilled a 'parenting rule' - a sincere apology deserves sincere forgiveness. He'd used it to resolve many an argument between Emmett and me growing up. It was a motto passed down by his predecessor, Police Chief Wains, from a time when boys could get away with a lot in a small town. While Dad didn't ascribe to that philosophy in the same way as Chief Wains, he still implemented it in many situations when it came to dumb teenage shenanigans.

I honestly believed Esme's apology, and she deserved to know that.

"I forgive you, Esme," I said earnestly. "While it may not have been… exactly how I'd wanted it to come out, I understand the situation you were in more than you may think. After Edward first told me, I was so shocked that I went straight to my brother and sister-in-law's house. They helped pick me up, but I was in such a state that I could barely speak. They ended up reading the letter Edward had written me to explain everything. Actually, they read it even before me. There were things in it that I'm sure Edward would have appreciated being kept between us, but at the time all I was thinking about was the support I needed." I flashed Edward a rueful glance. "Sorry," I told him softly.

He smiled soft-heartedly at me. "I know. Don't worry about it."

"Thank you, Dear," Esme said gratefully, stepping around the corner of the kitchen island where we were still standing and pulling me into a warm embrace. I could feel myself softening against her as the hug lingered a little longer than was conventional for practical strangers. "That's very compassionate of you," she said softly against my head before she released me.

Suddenly feeling completely out of my element, I needed to redirect my thoughts. "My father has always told us that holding on to anger is like holding onto a hot rock someone threw at you; the initial strike might have been their doing, but if you continue to hold onto the hot stone, the pain that persists is of your own doing," I said with a slight shrug as a stepped out of Esme's arms.

"Well, your father sounds like a very wise man. Perhaps you can tell me about him?"

"Mom," Edward groaned again, but this time there was no amusement in his voice. It sounded like a warning.

Esme huffed in frustration at him. "Yes, okay, Edward. You can stop micromanaging now."

I didn't know what Edward found so unpleasant in his mother asking me about my dad. Did he not want his family to get to know me? It was Esme that explained, turning to me with an exasperated expression. "Edward asked me to avoid questions that you will probably be asked a few times tonight and save any 'interrogation', as he put it until everyone is here. He didn't want you to feel bombarded, and that you had to spend the night repeating yourself again and again."

Taken aback, I wasn't quite sure whether I felt irritated that Edward thought he had the right to tell people what they could and couldn't say to me, or if I was more secretly pleased that he had intuited one of my biggest apprehensions about this evening and acted to protect me. The warmth that spread through me as I contemplated either possibility answered the question of which emotion won out.

Not wanting to let either Edward or his mother know the thrill his safeguarding kindled inside me, I hid behind my hair, hopefully obscuring any blush that rose in my cheeks. "That was unnecessary," I mumbled, not directing it to either of them.

A strained lull settled over the three of us. Yet, it was as if all three of us were searching for the best thing to say to end the tension. I desperately wanted to draw the conversation back to something more comfortable, and it looked like Edward was trying to do the same. Esme looked like she was trying to come up with something that wasn't off limits to talk about, while also seeming to watch Edward and me from the corner of her eyes.

"Why don't you take Bella on a tour, Darling?" Esme suggested when it was obvious neither Edward nor I knew what to say. "You could even show her the garden while it looks like the rain is taking a break."

Obviously feeling relieved about the change in topic, Edward nodded enthusiastically to get away from his mom and any more possible questioning. Smiling at me, he held his arm out to indicate I should walk with him. "Let me show you around."

So what did you think? Is Edwards self flagellation getting to anyone else like its getting to Bella? What did you think of Esme's apology? What did you think of the house?!

Hopefully no-one feels like this chapter was unfulfilling because it's just the forst part of a large 'episode'.

I love hearing what everyone is thinking, so please leave leave a review :D

Till next time,

Thanks Lovelies!