Hello, dears!

As usual, I would like to thank everyone who decided to give this story a chance—your reviews and follows really mean a lot and they make the journey even more amazing.

And I am also highly grateful to CoppertopJ for always helping me with her magic beta skills.

Now let's see how that Wednesday meet-up between Edward and Bella goes, shall we?

Impatience had never really been a real problem for me—it wasn't a smart trait to have when your time was virtually unlimited. I was good at feeling the unbearable passing of time without going insane over its inevitability. Better yet, I had perfected my patience in new ways since breaking up with Bella; I had no choice but to do that, seeing that my existence had become a useless blob without her.

How easily it all went out the window.

I spent the rest of my Monday replacing the broken window of my old home with a new one and reading The Book Thief twice. This book opened the gates to another type of connection with Bella—one I had been convinced I lost long ago. There was a time when discussing what clicked for us and what didn't upon reading a certain book was normal. Expected. It was yet another way for me to pick her fascinating brain, only to discover I had more to learn, more to discover—about who she was, but about who I was too. Her unpredictable takes kept me on my toes.

As I kept reading, I felt distressingly attached to Death, the narrator, and his simple, yet harrowing conclusion: I am haunted by humans. Much like him, I felt haunted too—however, my affliction was caused by one human and one human only. Even more than before, I could see what I had lost with perfect clarity, and I didn't know how to accept the reality of not having the right to get any of it back. Facing ghosts was much easier when you kept your distance from them, but I wasn't ready to return to that.

Each new minute fed my delusion that I was doing something right by overstaying my welcome in Forks, making it feel more justified, more reasonable. After all, I had no intention of letting Bella know that my fire had never burned out. I wasn't going to cross any lines, or—God forbid—flirt with her, just to take the edge off my self-serving desire. I could be good if I set my mind to it. And I was going to exhibit absolutely impeccable behaviour, as long as it earned me the right to enjoy Bella a little longer.

Passingly, it dawned on me that my stalking could hardly qualify as impeccable. Little did it matter that I wasn't doing it for perverse reasons. It was still a depraved act. Unhealthy. Warped. Immoral, just like myself.

The evening was starting to paint the empty walls with deep shades of blue when the tingling need to head to the Swan house for the fourth time in a row started to rear its head. I fought against it, seeking to rise above its dark, tempting depths. Seeking a distraction from it—any distraction, really—I switched my phone back on, fully aware that I was about to wake up a different kind of beast. The wave of missed calls and unread messages had not even begun to load when I saw Alice's name on the screen.

Inhaling deeply, I answered.

"You're all over the place," she accused, giving me no chance to properly greet her.

"I've had better days."

"In another lifetime maybe. You're impossible to reach, and it's more annoying than usual, to be honest. You're lucky I have a signal here, in the heart of the mountains. And that I haven't started hunting yet."

"Alice, I'm dealing with a lot. But I've no doubt you know all about it."

I couldn't see her, but I was pretty sure she had rolled her eyes. "That is the problem. I've been losing my mind with all this topsy-turvy you're doing. One minute you're set on leaving, the next you've found an excuse to stay. I can't keep up."

"I didn't ask you to keep up."

"No, but Esme and Carlisle have. For the record, they're pretty much convinced you're trying to get Bella back, after that whole thing at the library."

"I'm not," I retorted, insulted by such an assumption. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"That's reassuring, because your technique there was… highly questionable."

"There was no technique. I'm not trying anything with her. She made a promise to a man, I'm not getting in the way of that. My morals might be skewed, but I don't want to be a homewrecker. Especially if it's Bella's home we're talking about."

"I know," she replied. "I mean I'm highly aware of the possible outcomes, and every decision you might make seems to lead to friendship and nothing more. You appear to be highly chivalrous in my latest visions."

"I aim to be chivalrous. The last thing I want to do is to give her the impression that I'm flirting."

"So it seems."

"Can you make sure Carlisle and Esme understand this? I really don't want them to think I have any nefarious intentions here. Or worse, worry about me."

She laughed, but I could guess she was far from amused. "I think we're past that point. Besides, you can tell them yourself. They've both been trying to call you."

"I will. But not right now. I'm… I'm not sure I can handle either of them, after my last phone call with Esme. I know I upset her."

"And you also know she can never really stay upset for long when it comes to you. You are her favourite."

I huffed but didn't bother to argue, mostly because she was right, even though our mother would have never admitted to it out loud. "I'm just not ready. I need some tranquility for a while."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning you have to stop coddling me with texts and phone calls. There is a reason I turned off my phone. It's exhausting having to explain myself in front of you."

"It's because we care", she snickered. "We care about you, and we care about Bella too."

"I believe Rosalie would beg to differ."

"Some of us care, all right? And we don't want to see you hurt yourself or Bella more than you already have."

"I won't." This wasn't just a promise I was making to Alice. It was also a promise I was making to myself. Because if I was going to be a passing guest in Bella's life once again, I was going to do it right. No self-seeking actions this time. No waiting around past my due date, waiting for an excuse. "She deserves better."

"And you deserve some mental rest. Although I doubt you'll be getting it anytime soon, at this rate. I'm… sixty-seven percent sure you'll be going to her house tonight as well. You'll fight against it some more, but… it won't be enough."

I felt called out. "That's encouraging."

"It's not like I'm pushing you to do anything. You can always try to prove me wrong, you know?"

"I might. Anyway, I'll manage just fine."

"I hope. I'll certainly be on the lookout."

I smiled to myself. "No doubt you will."

"Take care of yourself, Edward. Please."

"You too. And… everyone else."

When the phone call reached its end, silence descended once again, unnerving in its potence. With the house so still, it was strange to imagine that there had ever been a time when it was brimming with footsteps, whispers, music, and laughter. I wasn't sure what the empty feeling in my stomach meant. Was it nostalgia? Or was it just the acknowledgement of my own loneliness?

As much as leaving Forks affected everyone in my family, at the end of the day each of them still had something to hold on to. Their mate, their raison d'être. But ultimately, what did I have? Apart from the certitude that the one woman I loved was going to walk down the aisle and say yes to another man, nothing. I was an empty shell. No prospects of real, meaningful happiness, just fragments from a more joyful past.

In these moments it was more difficult than ever to keep myself from imagining what would have happened years ago if I allowed the venom in Bella's body to just spread. To burn her life out, replacing it with stone-cold immortality. Just like she wished. I could picture her: garnet eyes, snow-like skin, indestructible tissues. Maybe then we wouldn't be old friends. Maybe then nothing would get in the way of her being mine and me being hers in all the different ways that I wanted.

Maybe then I could love her the right way, no devilish hunger hampering what I felt for her.

Alas, she was the same fragile human I had left behind—more mature, I was willing to bet, but still as breakable and prone to accidents. To illness. To bad luck. To the ruthless harpy that was her fate.

I had to remind myself why it was better this way. As temporary as her existence was, at least it was pure. She would never have to face the cursed bloodthirst that I knew all too well. She wouldn't have to drain the life out of breathing things in order to sustain herself. And she still had a shot at whatever kind of heaven awaited for those who had their souls. Ultimately, a shot at a peaceful afterlife had to account for something—definitely something greater than the crushing eternity ahead of me.

Nevertheless, the impulsive need to be close to her tickled the periphery of my senses again. I knew I shouldn't—I was still sane enough to distinguish between right and wrong. But sanity didn't equal strength. I needed that glimpse of her, even though I just saw her in the morning. I needed to hear her pulse and know that she was fine. At peace, despite the unexpected encounter of the morning. Right now, Wednesday was too far away, even though it was more than I could have ever wished for.

If it wasn't obvious before, I was in way over my head.

Alice's vision won in the end. Bella was sound asleep in Jacob's arms when I climbed up to the familiar spot in her tree, risking a glance through the window. My guilt was muted at once when I heard their breaths weaving together in a calm pattern, replaced by something else. I didn't want to believe it was jealousy, I had to be better than that. Yet it felt an awful lot like it. The feeling was hot and blistering, rendering the misplaced hope of the morning to nothing.

Of course she would be sound asleep in his arms. Where else would she be?

Of course our interaction didn't stir some long-forgotten feelings inside her that would disturb her rest. Why would it?

Of course my entitlement got the better of me again. Had I really learned nothing?

I forced myself to keep my eyes away from the window for the rest of the night, making sure to only pay attention to the fragile dance of the leaves above my head and Bella's pulse. The sound pranced up and down, its sweet, alluring wavelengths reminding me that I had nothing to worry about, as long as she was alive and breathing. At the end of the day, it was all that mattered.

Not my longing, nor my thirst.

And especially not my love. Never again that.

Living alone, unsupervised, and brokenhearted in attics for almost two years meant that the charade of human habits was no longer a requirement. I changed my clothes rarely and purely out of necessity, with the sole purpose of seeming a little less disheveled whenever I had to face the world upon moving from one place to another. Otherwise, I didn't mind the cuts, the tears, the wrinkles, and the occasional blood stains on them. They meant nothing to me, other than the fact that more time had passed and less meaning had seeped into my existence.

Humans had a good way of phrasing it—letting yourself go. Perhaps I had done exactly that, in the absence of any semblance of motivation to live instead of simply subsisting. And I had never given it a second thought, until recently.

I changed my clothes when returning to Forks for the same reason I changed them when I had to find a new loft to inhabit: to keep up appearances. However, the knowledge that I would spend an evening catching up with Bella made me feel self-conscious to the extreme. It wasn't like I wanted to impress her, but I didn't want to appear like a slob either. All of a sudden, the wrinkles in my shirt felt too obvious, too irksome, too much—which is why on Wednesday, I found myself in the unpopulated thrift shop located at the periphery of Forks, begrudgingly picking up several clothing items that appeared to be my size. I also took advantage of the small collection of old domestic irons in the shop, settling on a battery-powered one, mindful of the fact that the old family house had long been disconnected from electricity.

Electricity was not the only thing lacking, of course. There was also the fact that the shower was no longer functional. Objectively speaking, I knew I didn't need cleaning. I had not hunted, and my body was blissfully immune to the burden of sweat and bacteria. Still, I wanted to be presentable in every way humanly possible, so I picked the easiest option available and bathed myself in the river behind the house.

The colours of the day were starting to shift and fade when I put on my new clothes: a black button-up shirt and regular jeans. If my reflection in the window was anything to go by, my still-damp hair had seen better days, but I didn't know what to do about it other than running a hand through it and praying for the best once it would be fully dry.

Once I was done with the trivialities, I realized I had underestimated their positive effect on me. Because as soon as I no longer had a distraction in sight, unwelcome jitters started to travel all throughout my body, irritating every nerve and dousing every bone. I wasn't ready to face Bella, not at all. I had nothing interesting to tell her, no story worth sharing. Her life had been far more eventful than mine had been, but I could only be so intrusive before she started asking questions too.

And worse than the somewhat reasonable fear that I wouldn't know what to tell her, I feared my instinctual urges. They were always there, in the back of my thoughts, waiting for the tiniest, most insignificant signal to go into overdrive. I knew I didn't need a lot for my thirst to be awakened from its slumber and start raging—just being near Bella was more than enough. And I needed even less for my lust to come into play—simply imagining the things she and I never got to do was triggering to the extreme, which was why I didn't let my imagination wander too far. At least not usually. But if we were to be face to face again and she would go as far as to bite her lips in a transient, pensive moment…

The mental image alone got me hard. Tonight would be hell, no doubt about it.

Since it was too early to show up, I decided to drive around for a while, hoping that my excitement would relent, even just a little bit. The town was calm—too calm—as I perused its streets from the comfort of my car. No sign of turmoil other than the usual trivial worries that humans had. Passing thoughts came and went in waves.

"Whoever the fuck invented homework was a sadistic fucker."

"Definitely not enough money to go to Niagara this summer."

"The meat is too dry, maybe I'll tell her."

I listened to the choir of mental voices, content with their immaterial contents, mildly aware that their comfort was not going to last forever. Because soon enough, it was already eight, and I was looking for a parking spot far enough away from the Swan house to not be too conspicuous if someone curious enough were to walk by.

The last remnants of the day were still hanging in the air, their pale light dancing in the purple darkness that was slowly falling over the town, when I finally knocked on Bella's door. I listened to the sound of her steps—almost imperceptibly off-pace, thanks to her injury—hurrying down the hallway, racing to overtake her fast-beating heart. I inhaled the night air one last time, preparing myself for what was to come.

Promising myself to resist at all costs.

The door creaked open and the world stopped spinning for a few moments. The doorway might as well have been the gate to heaven, and Bella the welcoming seraph. She was wearing a blue shirt that clung to her shape tightly, revealing the most gorgeous contrasts my eyes had ever seen—between the way her alabaster skin made the cerulean fabric stand out and the dichotomy of her curves blending seamlessly into her small figure, I couldn't decide what I loved more. It didn't help that her hair had been tied up in a ponytail, allowing the lattice of veins pulsing underneath the skin on her throat to call to me.

"Hi," I said, letting go of some of the air reserve in my lungs.

"You actually came!"

She sounded surprised. I immediately feared that she had changed her mind about the invitation.

"You expected me not to?" More air left my lungs, bringing me a tad closer to my thirst.

"I'm not sure… m-maybe?"

My heart sank. "I can leave. If you no longer want to—"

"No! No, please don't. I just thought that it's not out of the realm of possibilities for you to leave town. And I had no way to reach you, so it's not like I could check." I felt inclined to tell her that I had an emergency phone, but I stopped myself right in the tracks. No need to feed my flame. "Anyway, get in."

"Thank you." And with that, the last breath of clean air escaped, leaving me raw and exposed. I stepped inside and Bella closed the door behind me, sealing my fate. I was welcomed by the same pale yellow I knew too well, but one thing got my attention. On the wall by the hanger, a photograph hung lonely and heavy with meaning. The picture sheltered an awkward-smiling Bella, wrapped tightly in Jacob's arms. They seemed happy. Complete.

I had to look away, not wanting to stare for too long.

"I'm sorry, it's a little messy around here. I usually clean the house during the weekends, but I had to postpone it this time, with my ankle being a little funky and all that."

That was it—I had to breathe again if I wanted to get another word out. Fearing the consequences, I inhaled.

I barely managed to keep my train of thought steady when Bella's scent hit my senses. Why in the world did she have to smell so damn edible? Not even Jacob's lingering scent could help me overcome my hunger. The air in the house was all her.

"Don't worry." My words struggled to get past the pool of venom on my tongue and out. "Your ankle needs all the rest it can get. How does it feel today?"

"Almost normal. Not enough to drive myself to work, but thankfully I've got Seth to help me with that when Jacob's away."

"Who is Seth?" I found myself asking out loud, strangely thankful to this stranger who was willing to help Bella in her time of need.

"Just about the nicest kid you can imagine. He's one of Jacob's friends from the reservation. And, well, my friend too."

She started to move, and I followed her down the hallway, feeling out of place, like I was trespassing. It felt so strange to be alone with her in this place, where some of my best memories resided. Long ago, if we would have had the chance to have the house to ourselves, Bella's appetite for lust would have taken the wheel right about now. She would have lured me in with loving kisses, basking in my defeat, and I would have needed all the strength in the world to put an end to our mutual passion before I lost my head.

My mind was still swimming with fantasies of the past when we arrived in the kitchen. I pushed my roaming thoughts away, studying my surroundings. With the exception of new dishes having been placed on the drying rack by the sink, the room looked exactly the same as five days ago, when I was frantically looking for an elastic wrap for Bella's ankle.

"I know the kitchen is not necessarily the ideal place for guests, but the living room really is a mess right now," she said. "Sorry about that."

"Bella, stop apologizing. You didn't invite me here to inspect your house now, did you?"

Her eyes widened, but she must have noticed I was smiling, because immediately after, the shock dissipated, a small laugh left her lips, and with it a rush of blood imbued her cheeks with colour. "You're right. I'll stop." She sat down on one of the four chairs surrounding the table and motioned me to do the same. "Make yourself comfortable."

I picked the chair facing her, deliberately making my movements slower than normal, not wanting to startle her—because surely, my nature was no secret to her, but I figured that certain things had stopped feeling familiar a while ago.

We studied each other in silence for several unending moments, the depth of her eyes so inquiring it was difficult to look anywhere else. Lost in that depth, I tried swimming to the surface, in a bid to find something—anything—to say. Something was separating us, and one of us had to break the proverbial ice.

"So," I began, a little unsure if this was the best way to get the conversation going, "how was your day?"

She huffed incredulously and I feared that I might have offended her without even meaning to. "You're really asking me about my day?"

"I upset you," I inferred, feeling like an imbecile. My muscles started to tense with anxiety

"No, you didn't. It's simply weird—having you in that chair and asking me the most trivial question."

She didn't sound upset, at least. My body started to relax—the parts of it that were able to relax anyway, since my throat had been busy burning with need from the moment I entered the house.

"Why is it weird?"

"Because… your presence still feels pretty unreal. Like I made you up."

"I am real," I assured her, my eyes never leaving hers.

"You look real too, but that doesn't make my brain hurt any less." She squinted at me as if she was still deciding if reality was tricking her or not. I felt like she wanted to add something more, so I didn't intervene. I was proven right when she opened her mouth to talk again—however, I was anything but prepared for her next words. "You know what? I think I'll pour myself a glass of wine. That ought to help."

I blinked—not because I needed to, but because it was almost like a reflex whenever I felt confused. "I'm… not sure that's a good idea."

Bella rolled her eyes at me, and the familiarity of that motion hurt. "Wrong. It's a great idea."

"You're nineteen," I argued, but it seemed futile—she had already left her chair. She made her way to the fridge, surprisingly confident in her steps.

"And? You're going to tell on me or what?"

"Don't be ridiculous, that wasn't my point."

She opened the fridge and pulled a sturdy-looking bottle out. It appeared to be already open, as the garnet liquid inside only occupied half of the space. She held the bottle with both hands as she placed it on the counter. I watched helplessly as she grabbed a glass and filled it to the brim, wondering if this was a usual occurrence for her.

It can't be, I thought to myself. I would have known by now, as people who regularly consumed alcohol had an easily recognizable smell—there was a shade of transparent sourness in their blood, that was nowhere to be felt when I breathed her perfume in. Besides, Bella had never been particularly interested in spirits, not even to taste them and see what the fuss was about. I suspected that this was just some strange bravado and nothing more.

Once she was done, Bella returned to her chair and took a long sip from the glass she held. The swift grimace that followed instantly confirmed my fast-growing suspicion.

"You've never done this before, have you?" I asked.

She blushed, but didn't put the glass down. "Not really. That bottle is Jacob's."

"Isn't he twenty?"

"Yes, but some of his friends are older." She took another sip, controlling her facial expression much better this time around—but I still caught the slight spasm in her throat, once the wine entered her esophagus. She wasn't enjoying this as much as she had probably imagined she would. "God, I figured this thing wouldn't be so… I don't know, sour?"

"Feel free to stop then," I suggested.

"Absolutely not. Now where were we?"

I sighed, not at all staggered by her stubborn will. "I was waiting for you to tell me about your day."

"Right." She giggled, although I couldn't understand what she found so funny about my query. "Well, it was the same as every other day. I went to work, not that many people stopped by the library. I got home and had dinner. The end."

Admittedly, it was far more interesting than what I had been doing.

"That's not too bad," I replied. "Having stability should feel somewhat reassuring."

"Maybe. It gives me plenty of time to read, at least."

There it was—something to hang on to. "Any recent favourites?"

"Apart from The Book Thief? Hmmm, I enjoyed Never Let Me Go. We received another batch last week. Although it's rather sad, I might have shed a tear or two when reading it."

I smiled, relieved to realize that she was just as sensitive as I remembered her to be. "Well, The Book Thief was brilliant, for what it's worth, so it is safe to say I still trust your taste in literature."

"Hmmm, you were fast," she observed.

"Such is life for creatures like me."

I shrugged and a new smile blossomed on her face. "Show off. Now tell me what you liked about it the most."

"The narrator," I answered without thinking twice. I had been having plenty of time to digest the book's contents, after having read it twice. "You'd think that if Death existed as this tangible creature, with a real conscience, he would be all arrogant since he'd hold all that knowledge. He knows, without fail, how everyone is going to die, and being all-knowing could get old fast. It would be all too easy for him to fall into the trap of conceit. Instead, he's just… sad. He's given up. He's not even haunting humans, like grim fairy tales would make you believe; the humans haunt him. And the worst part is he can never escape it."

Bella looked down at her glass, and a concerned dimple started to form between her eyebrows as she was preparing her next words. "I liked him too. I kind of envy the way he knows how everything is going to end." She drank again, before raising her eyes to meet mine and continuing. "Actually, he reminds me of you. I mean… you're also all-knowing, at least with your gift, right?"

"With one exception," I reminded her.

"With one exception," she confirmed, a hint of pride hiding in her voice. "Regardless, I think you're a little worn down by humans too. Or at least that's how I remember you to be."

"Your memory serves you right," I admitted. "But I've made it my mission to keep my distance from humans, for the most part, so it's not so bad."

"Then you must be terrible at that mission, seeing that you are face to face with a human as we speak," she teased.

"Again, one exception."

She laughed, and I loved the sound more than I could ever tell her. Still, something else was eating at me. "So, you envy Death," I reminded her, not willing to let go of that little breadcrumb she had thrown my way.

"Sometimes," she confirmed. "The utter lack of knowledge about what is going to happen next feels daunting."

"It also makes life interesting, in a way."

"Not really." Bella shrugged, her eyes darting to the glass in front of her again. "I'd rather know if tomorrow is going to suck or not."

"How would that help? When you consider kismet and all that, it's not like you could change much about it."

"True. But I'd have time to mentally prepare, obviously."

"Have your days been so bad you need special warnings for them?"

"Some of them."

She didn't sound sad, nor concerned—more like it was a usual, even expected eventuality for her. I was instantly reminded how, just a few nights ago, she cried herself to sleep as a response to Jacob's crude, non-consensual touches. That surely had to account for why some of her days were bad, but I could never dare to tread that intimate territory with her.

But that didn't mean I couldn't try to find ways around it.

"I'm sorry," I said after a while. "At least you don't have to face them alone, I suppose."

She grabbed her glass and sipped again, wincing as the liquid slithered down her throat. The alcohol did nothing to mask her appealing scent. "Yeah. Jacob's wonderful. It's good to have him around. He's been… really helpful."

I nodded, still not managing to push away the thought of him touching Bella in her sleep. Maybe it had been nothing more than a slip-up. I wanted to believe that, but the memory of Bella sobbing after he fell asleep kept my doubts alive. My new mission was to not let them come too close to the surface.

"I bet he is," I returned. "So, he's in McCleary now?"

"Yes. He travels around, repairing bikes and cars, that's his schtick. He's really good at it too, he's built quite a reputation." She paused abruptly, chuckling softly to herself.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing, just… thinking how his mechanic skills are what brought us close in the first place."

Not necessarily new information to me, since I knew the grand outline from Alice already. "Oh, I see."

"We used to fix motorcycles together," she explained. "Well, he fixed them. I watched. And then we rode them for hours."

I forced a smile, for her sake, not showing her how much it hurt to know the underside of their love story. "That sounds nice. Although I never took you for the adrenaline-loving type." Well, if I didn't count her past penchant for seducing a vampire who wanted her in every possible way, that is.

"Me either, until I found two dilapidated motorcycles in a neighbour's yard. He was selling them for nothing and I… I don't know, I needed a change of pace, I guess."

"No better way to change the pace than to jump on a death machine and ride it into the sunset."

My waggish remark caught her unprepared, as she started laughing so hard that the glass she had grabbed started shaking in her hand, spilling some of its contents on the table. "You're as melodramatic as ever," she uttered, not one bit concerned about the now-wet table. "Not that I'm surprised."

"I'm only stating facts."

"It's not really rocket science to ride a motorcycle and not die. I should know. Besides, Jacob was a pretty good teacher."

"Clearly, since you're still in one piece."

"There you go again with the melodrama," she accused, her gorgeous eyes squinting at me while she drank some more, leaving progressively less wine behind.

I instantly felt awful, realizing I had overstepped without even meaning to. I had precisely zero rights to worry about the safety of her decisions. "I'm sorry, I'll stop. I promise."

"Ha! Now I'd love to see you try." Her tone was playful, sending scary, warm, pleasant feelings in my bones. A part of me wanted to run away—as fast as my feet could take me and as far as geography allowed me. I wanted to once again be in a place where her temptation was only a lively memory, not something I had to actively fight against. "But no, seriously, it's fine," she assured me. "I wear a helmet and everything."

That I knew, thanks to the first time I watched her from my car. "Then there's that at least," I sighed, forcing myself to look away and trying to come up with something to change the subject. At that precise moment, a loud noise broke through the freshly-fallen veil of silence, getting both of us to stare at its source. At the opposite end of the table, her phone was ringing, a single name illuminating the screen: Jake.

In her rush to get out of her chair and grab her phone, she managed to spill more wine, this time the liquid landing on her shirt and painting it crimson. She cursed under her breath right before responding, greeting Jacob with a strange, strangled voice. I tried my best to tune out their conversation, but it was awfully difficult. It wasn't just that she was so close I had no choice but to overhear. I was curious too.

"All good, baby?" he inquired. "You sound startled."

"Yes! I mean no, I'm not startled at all. I'm fine."

"What were you doing?"

"Just… you know, some last-minute chores around the kitchen."

She started walking back and forth, not once glancing my way, only downwards, to the floor. Even though her face was turned away from me, I could hear the sound of her blood rushing more violently into her veins, the noise of her heart beating too fast for comfort. And God, the smell of it all—the pooling blood, the lavender, the brazen lie… it made my mouth water with greed.

"Good for you, Bells. I was settling in here and I gotta say, it's far from being the worst motel I've ever been to. The water pressure in the shower is actually decent!"

She laughed, a tad less distressed on the surface—on the inside, her body told another story, going from how loud her circulatory system was getting. "Happy to hear that. I know how upset you were the last time."

"Don't remind me! To think I almost brought you there… I'm telling you, you wouldn't have survived."

"I still think I could've handled it better than you did."

Their conversation drifted into unknown territory for me—and without Jacob's mind close by to give me a clue, I was completely estranged from their inner jokes. I heard the sounds of their shared amusement every now and then, and the more this went on, the more I felt like a charlatan. What kind of monster did I have to be to sit at this table, falling impossibly more in love with Bella, when her fiancé was nowhere in sight?

I didn't doubt that her intentions for inviting me over were, at their core, pure—I imagined she couldn't possibly entertain the idea of wanting me now, when she was in the middle of settling into a long-term commitment with Jacob; and for one reason or another, she was graceful enough to still consider me somewhat of a friend, even after ruining her first foray into the world of relationships. However, I felt as if her pure intentions were causing her to miss the obviously rotten elements of our meeting: from my intolerable thirst to the hurtful desire boiling my every cell to perdition.

But how could she ever see them? I was playing my role to perfection.

By the time the phone conversation ended, I had made my decision. Bella sat back at the table, tension still plaguing her body, going by her suddenly upright posture.

"Sorry about that," she murmured. "Where were we?"

I shook my head, feeling hopeless. "It doesn't matter."

"What? Are you mad at me?"

I couldn't fathom the mere existence of a parallel reality in which I would be mad at her. Her presumption hurt in an unexpected way—but then again, it had been so long since we spent any amount of significant time together, I shouldn't have expected her to read me like an open book. "Far from that. I couldn't possibly be mad at you."

"You look upset."

"I was just thinking, Bella."

"About what?" she persisted.

"About… how it's probably best for me to go."

Her eyebrows jumped up, and her eyes widened in pure shock. "No! Why? Did I say something or—"

"No, of course not. I enjoy talking to you. I always have." Admitting that out loud made me feel weightless, even if the feeling lasted less than a nanosecond. In its wake, reason came back, reinforcing its gravity.

"Then tell me what's wrong, please," she pleaded with me, and I didn't have the strength—nor the will—to leave her hanging.

"I don't want you to be forced to lie to cover my tracks," I confessed. "It's not fair to you. Or to Jacob, for that matter."

"Oh. Oh, I see." Her blushing returned in full measure, getting me hungry in more ways than one. I looked away, to the tree branches taking a peek at us through the window, my wrist involuntarily pressing down my erection under the table—as if that was enough to get it to go the hell away. "I know how that might have come across, but… I promise you, it's not what it seems. The thing is, Jacob's just getting back to being himself after a rather stressful time in his life, and I didn't want to burden him with… well, with something that's definitely a lot to explain right now. I wanted to have a talk with a friend, I guess. I haven't really got a chance to do it properly lately with anyone else but Jake, to be fair."

I listened to her, having a million questions, but only having the courage to ask one. "Why is that?"

"Because he needs me. And I want to be there for him, even if that means missing out on certain stuff. Like, I don't know, saying no to Angela when she invites me for an evening out, for instance."

"I didn't know she was still in town."

"She's not, but she comes back every so often. She went to college in Seattle." There was a hint of longing in her voice, if I had to guess, almost like she wished she had followed in Angela's footsteps too. But it was equally possible that I had only imagined it—at the end of the day, I really didn't know her as much as I used to. Maybe she had given up the thought of college altogether, for all I knew. "Anyway, I don't even know when she and I last talked. My main point was that I thought tonight I'd be able to… I don't know, to talk to a friend and not think about anything else for a change."

She took a deep breath when she finished and started to rub nervously at the stain on her shirt, looking anywhere else but directly at me. I couldn't escape the fear that my arrogant presumptions had hurt her feelings. I wanted to go back in time, just minutes ago, so that I could simply continue the conversation right where we left off, instead of telling her I needed to go.

I really, really had to find a way to pick up the pieces.

"I'm sorry," I offered, meaning it fully. "I should have thought twice before saying anything."

"No, it's fine, you couldn't have known. And it's not like you owe me any conversations, so… really, it's fine."

I watched as she nervously went back to drinking her wine, getting closer to emptying the glass. I strangled to silence the part of me that wanted to ask her to take a break, not wanting to risk offending her again.

"Do I get the chance for a redo?" I asked. Bella nodded, putting her glass down and finally daring to meet my gaze again. I got lost in her eyes for a few seconds, but I pulled myself back together. "In my defense, I forgot what it's like to be utterly unable to read someone's mind, so things are more difficult than usual for me. But my ineptitude aside, I do want to talk to you too, Bella. That's why I'm here. So if I'm still welcome and you haven't changed your mind—which, trust me, I would completely understand if you have—I can stay a little longer tonight."

My words seemed to ease the previous tension, but its leftovers still hung in the air, heavy with implications. I could almost taste them, in all their bittersweet glory.

"Yes, Edward," she replied, uttering my name for the first time in a long, interminable while. "Please stay."

Inevitably, I wondered if she noticed my sudden relief when she said that single word. Stay. And it wasn't just relief that made my bones mellow—it was a sense of joy so pure, so primal, that I almost didn't recognize the feeling.

One thing was certain.

I had been brought to my knees.

Don't hate me, but their meet-up is still not done!

As you can see, Edward and Bella are treading the waters of rekindling their friendship—do you think anything good will come of it? How long do you think Bella will be able to hide Edward's return from Jacob?

I'm so excited to read your thoughts on this chapter! Your reviews are like a gift that keeps on giving, so for that I am grateful.

Until next Sunday, stay safe and happy!