This is what I brought you, this you can keep
This is what I brought you, you may forget me
I promise you my heart, just promise to sing
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep

There were many things to consider before Edward showed up - and I was very certain that he would. I began with what I felt was most important: could I forgive him?

I did my best to look at the situation from a detached perspective, an outsider looking in. We had been friends when I spoke to him in the meadow. Friends were supposed to trust each other, and I technically broke his trust first by lying, if only by omission. But was my personal life really any of his business?

I hadn't bothered him about his personal affairs, from the surface level things like what he did after school to the more traumatic things like Bella. No, my personal life was not his concern, and even if I did omit key details, we simply hadn't been on that level.

So had he thrown the first stone, then, when he all but accused me of lying, even though my dishonesty had predicated the entire ordeal?

Even for my expansive vampire brain, this was getting convoluted. The matter would need to be cut to the quick if any solution were to be found, although it was not a simple task to boil the details down to the basics.

Key facts: I had admitted I was withholding information about myself. He shared details he had also been keeping concealed. I did not verbally, physically, or emotionally attack him for this. He did.

And he had apologized, in a manner I found somewhat profuse, but only after failing to will me into nonexistence. I would need to ask him about that. I felt that, after everything was tabulated and accounted for, I could forgive him. What he said about my 'grey period' would define if I would.

If forgiveness was to be given, then, where did that leave us? I was unsure of my feelings for him outside of being quite sure I wanted him in my life in some capacity. For the first time in over a century I had laughed, smiled, and felt true happiness and that was not something I was willing to go without again.

Did that make me selfish? I needed to be certain I wanted him in my orbit because I genuinely enjoyed him as a person, not just as a salve for my wounded psyche. To obscure Edward's future over my own rapacious avarice would be a grave sin.

Alice had insinuated that I would destroy him in some form if I continued to twine my fate with his. It would be tantamount to murder. To show such a wanton disregard for that information would be beyond depraved.

If he didn't bring me any sense of peace would I still want him to be around me? The consideration was brief this time - if he brought me nothing more than scintillating conversation and unenumerable rounds of 20 questions, I would still want to be his friend. Whether or not it was worth risking his seeable destiny, that was a question I could not even begin to fathom. If I truly cared about him in any regard, I should not jeopardize future no matter how I felt.

I was struck by the similarity to this line of thinking and what Edward's had apparently been, when he left Bella. He had done it for her own good because any fate with him was a fate doomed to death. This only served to solidify my opinion; if he wanted me around, I would not take that choice from him. With a dark twinge of sarcasm, I mentally told myself that he was certainly old enough to make his own decisions.

The one thing I found most difficult to ponder was precisely how deep my feelings went. While there was certainly fondness and and appreciation, those things did not account for the aggressive swarm of butterflies that manifested at his easy smile, or the shocking thrill that coursed over my skin when he touched me. If I had not been aware that I had known love before, I would have struggled understand these responses. But I had known love before, even if I did not remember the exact details of it, and I was on a very dangerous precipice.

Edward was simply not physically capable of feeling the same way. He had already had a great love, one that had altered something that was otherwise completely unchangeable. I was alone in my feelings, wholly and totally. He could not, would not, ever know the true depth of my emotions toward him. I had kept so many things from him already, to keep one more was akin to being burned alive, but I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't push that sort of baggage on him, not when I understood next to nothing about my own past and all the feelings that came along with that.

I did not have to keep everything from him, though. I could show him what I had learned - it was entirely possible he would be able to help me sort out the circumstances of my transformation from his unique perspective. Naïve hope began to creep in that he could even help me find and unlock more of the stubborn, rusted locks that held my memories, which was promptly and voraciously stomped down before the blooming tendrils could take root.

My mental gymnastics had taken me from what started as a wide loop around my 10-acre property to tight zigzags in my living room, out of my bedroom to the garage, then into a towering cedar and down again. My path was aimless and as chaotic as my thoughts, without rhyme or reason.

I was still pacing in the 8 foot opening of the French doors to my room when a hand rested on my arm. The contact made me immediately start, throwing myself in the air and twisting so that I was on the opposite side of my queen bed, with a vehement hiss escaping my lips. I belatedly realized it was Edward; I had been so absolutely absorbed in my own thoughts I hadn't even sensed him approaching.

Straightening from my hostile stance, I stared at him briefly before immediately looking away as embarrassment lapped at me. He chuckled and moved, graceful as a panther, to sit on my bed before he smirked at me.

"Whatever in the world were you thinking so hard about you didn't even hear me? It must have been very interesting."

I didn't look up, still feeling extremely awkward.

"It wasn't that interesting." My words were mumbled, although it didn't matter; he heard me perfectly. The smile fell from his face and his voice was concerned in response, soft and encouraging.

"Elle, you know it's very near impossible to sneak up on a vampire. Whatever it was, you can tell me."

I believed him, without question. Knowing how to speak the words into being was an entirely different matter. I was still staring at a board on the floor that had sustained water damage, the grain swollen with moisture, unsure of how to meet his eyes. I hesitated too long, and he misconstrued my silence.

"I know I betrayed your trust, Elle. I promise you, I will do whatever it takes to gain that trust back. I can't even begin to make up for how I've treated you, but I want you to know I will listen to any and every thing you want to tell me."

Edward saying this brought me back to the question I had most needed an answer to, which was significantly easier to ask. Finally I looked at him, trying to keep my features neutral.

"Edward, after we fought, you were still here when I came back. You tried to talk to me then, but I wasn't able to hear you. After that, you only tried to talk to me again one other time. I suppose what I'm asking is, why did you act like I didn't even exist? Were you really that angry with me for not telling you about my past?"

His eyes flashed, hardening with an emotion I couldn't put my finger on before relaxing slightly.

"I wasn't angry with you, Elle. I was angry with myself. I did not understand the depth of your... despair. You wouldn't even speak to me. I thought you were angry with me and I did not want to inflame you any more. I felt that I had already done more than enough damage. When you let me into your thoughts, I realized how woefully wrong I had been."

His eyes roamed my face, searching for I knew not what. Sighing, I sat down on the bed opposite him.

"I thought you were angry with me, furiously so. For keeping my secrets from you, and for only telling you when I didn't actually think you were there." I didn't realize my gaze had drifted, past him and out the still-open doors. I forced myself to look at him again, trying to bury the shame I felt. "That was wrong of me. It's not an excuse, but I'd never told anyone before, and I just... didn't know how to open up about myself like that. I already felt like I was clinically insane. I dreaded hearing someone else confirm that deepest fear."

I had expected wrath, mockery, even disgust. He surprised me when he leaned across the bed and, so softly, as though I were made of china, ran his knuckles over my cheek again. I shivered.

"I can't imagine the pain of what you've been through, Elle. It must have been so difficult being on your own for so long, unable to remember the things that make you you. Please do not feel ashamed for being afraid of sharing that pain. We all have our own demons to wrestle with. Yours are just as valid as the rest of ours." His voice was gentle, and my head fought the comfort it brought my heart. I could not fall into the trap of caring for him any more than I already did.

"It means a lot to hear you say that, Edward." My words caught in my throat, unsure of what else to say as my chest swelled at the idea he didn't hate me or think I was crazy. I swallowed, then cleared my throat. "Speaking of demons, I have something I want to show you...?"

My words trailed off in question, and I couldn't tell if I wanted him to spurn me or revel with me. He nodded, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Whatever you want. I'm all ears... figuratively speaking, of course." I laughed, short and quick, caught off guard by his flippant remark.

I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, trying to steel my nerves.

"Okay. Here it goes."

I closed my eyes as I lifted the shield from my head, and thought of the solitary memory from my human life. I tried not to linger on the feelings, preferring to keep the examination more clinical, but I did pay special attention to the drawn-out timeline of my transformation. When I was done I let the shield fall back into place, waiting for his verdict. When no sound came I opened my eyes, suddenly very worried.

He was gazing at me in silent fascination, like I had just told him the most riveting thesis on the human genome. I smiled tentatively, wishing for once I had his uncanny power to read minds. Slowly he brought both of his hands up to cup my face, a massive grin splitting his features.

"Elle... that was incredible! You're telling me you remembered that? How, when?" Abruptly his elation faded, replaced by a look of contemplation. "And how long your transformation took. Carlisle will have some theories, no doubt." As fast as it had come on the contemplation was gone, but he was smiling again, albeit less dramatically.

"I'm so happy for you, Elle, truly. I'm sure it doesn't answer much, but I hope that this will be the start of more to come."

I smiled back in earnest then, no words for the relief I felt that he seemed to just understand the what and why of my demonstration. His words brought me to a point I hadn't considered, though, so I asked.

"You said Carlisle would have thoughts?"

Edward nodded. His hands were still on my face, but I wasn't in a hurry to bring it to his attention. I was basking in the sensation they brought, like the sun was warming me from the inside.

"Yes, Carlisle is a doctor in the human sense. Truthfully, he has a deeply extensive knowledge of medicine that goes back centuries. If anyone could postulate on the effects of your dramatic changing and its tie to your memories, it would be him."

I jumped from the bed, suddenly full of adrenaline. This day had started so banal, indistinguishable from so many days and weeks of the same. But this day was not over yet, and the naïve hope I had tried to uproot before was in full-on blossom.

"Can we go see him? Right now?"

He smiled, standing with me. His hand was extended toward me, and for once I didn't hesitate even a tenth of a millisecond. I took it instinctually, and without effort. We didn't hold hands as we ran, but the tips of our fingers still brushed every once in a while as we streaked through the moon-bathed forest. Maybe Carlisle wouldn't be able to offer any insights, but he could also have all of the answers, and for once I let myself really believe that.