Morning, Lovelies! Thank you as always to Mel and Pamela.

XXX

EDWARD

December 3, 1897

Calcutta, India

I have never known pain such as this.

I feel as if my entire world has been tilted off its axis, as if day has become night.

After the accident, Bella had been rushed to an overcrowded hospital where doctors managed to stabilize her bleeding, but by the time Carlisle arrived, there was nothing he could do for our baby. I had to stand by, heartbroken, wondering if my wife would live past the night as our child was carved out of her.

We have been back to Carlisle and Esme's home in Darjeeling for two days now, and Bella has hardly stirred. Carlisle has assured me this is all normal—that she is under heavy sedation—but part of my heart burns with misguided anger at her. It's as if she is intentionally sleeping so as not to face me, face the consequences of her reckless actions.

The moment those thoughts linger too long in my mind, though, I am immediately racked by guilt. I know in my heart what happened wasn't Bella's fault. Something happened to her at that temple, and whatever it was, I was to blame. I never should have let her come with me.

I sit by our bed, propped up in a stiff chair, refusing to move from her side. Despite the conflicting feelings roiling in my chest, I cannot leave her to wake alone.

"Bella," I croak, my throat hoarse from my lack of sleep and raw from the sobs I've already uttered. "My darling, please wake," I beg, my head landing near her arm. "Please don't leave me to this silent misery."

Bella doesn't stir, and I shut my eyes, trying to stop a fresh onslaught of tears.

"Edward?"

I sit up, my eyes burning as I blink to focus my vision. Carlisle is standing at the door, his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. He motions for me to join him outside of the room and my gaze falls back to Bella.

She's pale, a large bandage wrapped around her head making her look even more vulnerable. I lift one of her small hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "I'll be right back," I murmur against her skin.

She is perfectly still, the only sign of life her chest rising and falling as she breathes.

I stand from the bedside and make my way toward the door, my body aching in protest for having sat still for so long.

Out in the hallway, Carlisle waves me down toward the study, only a couple of rooms away.

Once we are seated in the room, Carlisle gestures to a tray of tea and fruit.

"You need to eat," he says softly. "You need to keep up your strength for Bella."

I want to argue, to tell him that I am perfectly fine, but I know he is right.

Reluctantly, I reach for a sliced orange.

The fruit is sweet, but with the heaviness in my heart, it tastes no better than ash in my mouth.

"Edward," Carlisle says, his voice soft. "I want to check in with you on how you are doing."

I look at him. "Doing?" I echo hollowly.

Carlisle nods. "How are you faring?"

My mouth is suddenly dry, and I lick my lips. "Carlisle, I …" I stop, tears welling in my eyes. I drop my gaze and shake my head, my shoulders slumping in defeat. "How am I supposed to go on after this?" I ask, my voice hollow.

Carlisle moves, scooting so close in his chair that his knee is nearly knocking against my own. "Edward," he whispers, his hand landing on my shoulder. I look up, meeting his tired gaze. "It is horrible what has happened to you," he whispers. "Both of you. It is not unreasonable to feel devastation at your loss."

Tears bite at my eyes and I blink hard to dispel them.

"Why did she run like that?" I croak, my voice breaking. "Why didn't she look where she was going?"

The moment the questions are out of my mouth, I feel an overwhelming outpouring of grief. Tears I have kept mostly at bay come flooding out of me, and I double over, my sobs racking my whole being.

Carlisle's arms go around my back, and I feel him pull me tight into his embrace. He is patient and tender as I weep, his presence both comforting and reassuring.

"Edward," he says once my tears begin to slow. "This was not Bella's fault."

I flinch in his arms and pull back from him. "Right," I agree.

Carlisle leans forward, his hand on my shoulder. "Edward," he says, and I hear an edge in his voice that makes me look him in the eye. There is an intensity in his gaze that is both foreign and familiar to me. I've never seen him look like my father before. "What happened was a horrible accident," Carlisle says. "It was not Bella's fault." He pauses, his gaze flickering over my face. "Nor was it yours."

At his words, fresh tears well to my eyes.

"I shouldn't have let her go with me to the jungle," I confess, my chest tight with my self-loathing.

"Edward, she is your wife, not a child. She is perfectly capable of making decisions of her own mind," he reminds me. "You have both suffered an unimaginable loss, and right now you will need each other more than ever." His hand squeezes my shoulder. "You have to find it in yourself to forgive her." He squeezes again. "And yourself."

I crumple again under his words, uncertain that I'll ever be able to forgive either one of us for this terrible accident.

…

Later that evening, after I take a nap on the settee in the parlor, I am by Bella's side again when she finally stirs.

I see at first her fingers twitch, and then a frown is tugging over her beautiful face.

I lean forward, breathless.

"Bella, my darling," I whisper, my voice raw.

Her eyes scrunch together before they carefully blink open. She looks confused at first, and then slowly her gaze focuses on me.

"Edward," she breathes.

Tears are burning my eyes as I take her hand in mine, pressing a kiss to her fingers.

"How are you feeling?" I ask, my heart aching to see the confusion on her beautiful face. She does not yet remember what has happened.

Bella frowns, and then at once it is like she is struck by her memory. Her eyes widen, her free hand flying to her abdomen. "The baby," she gasps.

Tears slip down my cheeks as I shake my head. Bella lets out a horrible, heartbroken sound, her body trying to curl against the pain.

I cannot take another moment of this.

I slide onto the bed, aligning my body along hers, and gently pull her into my arms. She clings to my shirt, pressing her face against my chest as she howls.

Her pain echoes my own.

It feels as if we will never be free of this torment ever again.

…

It is sometime later, after we have both quieted, that Bella speaks again. "We should never have gone to the jungle," she whispers.

I flinch, my eyes shutting as I press a kiss to her hair. "I know," I agree.

"What happened when I disappeared?" she asks.

I frown, my eyes fluttering open as I pull back from her slightly. "What do you mean?"

Bella looks at me. "I explored the back of the temple. I think I was back there for almost an hour. I thought you'd come find me eventually," she says.

I shake my head. "You were gone no more than a minute, maybe two."

Bella scowls. "That can't be," she says. "I went into the temple."

I lean myself up on one arm, looking down at her. "What did you find?"

Bella opens her mouth then immediately snaps it shut, looking uncertain. "I found an altar to Durga," she says, her gaze growing distant. "And then a tiger came up behind me."

Cold fear plunges into my blood. Even though I know she is alive in my arms, the thought of her so close to that sort of ferocious monster is utterly abhorrent to me. "What?"

"But he wasn't a tiger," Bella continues. "At least, not truly." She frowns. "He was the prince from Dr. Banner's book. Prince Arjun."

Has my wife's memory been altered by her injuries? Is it possible for her mind to invent such a wild tale on its own? I must ask Carlisle.

"Bella—"

"He told me that I'm not cursed," she continues, like she cannot hear the worry in my voice. "He said I need to find my mother, and that Death is in my shadow."

I flinch at that, my heart breaking all over again when I think of our loss.

Bella flinches too and shakes her head. "He was right," she says hollowly.

"Bella, I don't know who you met—" I start.

"Where is my bag?" she asks. "The one I was wearing that day?"

I motion toward the end of the bed, and Bella starts to sit up. "Hold on," I tell her. "Stay still. I will fetch it."

I rise from the bed and retrieve her purse, bringing it back to her lap. She yanks it open and produces a large red stone.

No, not a stone.

I lean closer, my eyes going wide when I see it's an uncut, unpolished ruby.

"By God," I whisper.

"He cried this," Bella says, holding the gem up. "He meant for me to have this."

I stare between Bella and the gem, my mind racing. "Bella, I …" What is there to say? I stare at her, unsure what to make of this development.

"Edward," she says, her voice cracking, her fingers finding mine. "The prince, he said that I am not cursed. He said my legacy exists in my blood, and I can not change it." She stops as her tears overcome her, and I see them splash down on her cheeks. "We have lost our first child," she says, shaking her head. "But now we know that all our children will be spared the weight of my legacy." She blinks hard, shaking her head. "The ill fate of my blood has died with our baby."

My knees buckle under me, and I shake my head as I sink onto the bed beside her. I don't know if what she is saying is true or merely wishful thinking.

I cannot decide tonight.

"Bella," I whisper. "Please, not tonight."

She immediately understands. We set the ruby on the small nightstand beside the bed, and for a moment, I feel her hesitate. I reach for her, and she slides into my arms, both of us sighing as she rests her head against my chest.

There are many questions left still to answer, but this is not the night for it.

Tonight, all we can do is sleep.