It was Esme who offered to drive her home about an hour later. The car ride was silent, the energy low. Bella stared down at her phone in her lap, part of her wishing, willing for it to come to life. Jasper hadn't seen her out, and it left her predictably antsy.

Esme eased the car by the curb of her house. She didn't ask Bella how her trip was, how Renee was. The casual small-talk that Esme liked to inject into their daily interactions was missing. She only noted, "Your father's home."

Bella was frowning at her phone, at the unsent text to Jasper that read: Are you okay? Her finger hovered over the screen for a moment before deleting it.

"I caught Jasper outside," Esme said, and at the mention of his name, Bella looked up at her. "He told me about Alice... and the problem with your shield."

Bella's face failed to heat at the implication. "It was my fault."

"None of this is your fault, Bella."

For a long moment, Bella searched her golden eyes that were brimmed with emotion. "But you won't admit who is really at fault, will you?"

Esme watched her in return, wordlessly.

"I understand. I do," Bella told her, hand finding the handle to the door. "You can never be honest with yourself that the man you are married to—the man you are mated to—is a monster."

The shift was borderline animalistic. Esme's demeanor sharpened, her back straightening at once, and Bella knew that this was a line she shouldn't cross. Esme's voice dipped to something chilling. "If you think you're going to be immune to it, you are wrong. The bond is absolute. It—" She cut herself off, blinking furiously. After a while, she continued, "I know my mate's ambitions, and his desires. I know his fears, and his shortcomings. I know everything there is to know about him. I have to. The bond makes you. My individuality is gone. I am an extension of my mate, and he is an extension of me. Do you understand?"

Bella's fingers tensed, curled around the handle.

"And though he has damned you—though he has damned all of us—I yearn for him. Every day, I yearn for his presence, and his guidance. It is a sort of worship that I still cannot comprehend." She stared, unblinking, at the windshield ahead. "But it is two-sided, and that is its saving grace. I am Carlisle's strength, but also his weakness. Those who want to hurt him only need to hurt me."

"Esme—"

"Do you know why Jasper has been left unmated for so long?"

Mouth dry, Bella replied, "Anyone who would mate with him would have to serve half of his sentence."

Esme shook her head, and finally, her head snapped towards Bella. "Jasper will eventually be free from his servitude, but your bond will be eternal. And he will have to not only watch his own back, but yours as well. A mate will always be a weakness for him. For anyone."

"That's called a partnership, Esme," Bella said, a little defiantly. "You protect those who you love. Always."

"And I hope you do love him," Esme continued, voice slightly wavering. "I hope you love Jasper enough that you may forgive him for doing this to you. And I hope that he may forgive you in return."

Bella could feel the disdain in her words. The resentment was evident through her gritted teeth. No matter how much she has learned to love Carlisle in this twisted way, Esme Cullen saw the mating bond as an entrapment.

And when used in the Cullen way, it was an entrapment.

"You gave me this knowledge," Bella said carefully. "You guided me to my proposal to Jasper."

"Because my son does not deserve you."

"Edward is not your son. And for that, you should be glad."

For a moment, Bella watched Esme. With her head hung low, her eyes wouldn't lift. If she could cry, Bella imagined she would be.

"I am grateful for your help," Bella said quietly. "And I am sorry…" She couldn't bring herself to dictate Esme's very real, very tragic reality. "I'm just—"

"Go inside, and spend time with your father," Esme told her hoarsely. "Please."

Bella gave her one last look, and when Esme wouldn't meet her eyes, grabbed her backpack, and got out of the car.

Coming home to her father felt comforting. Bella hugged Charlie longer than she had to, and then gave him details of her time with her mother. They cleaned the kitchen together, bantering about their weekends, about Renee's parenting skills, and about Charlie's inability to feed himself nutritious meals.

But Bella found herself constantly gravitating towards her phone, which remained mostly silent for the rest of the day. Her heart would leap up to her throat at every ping, but it would only be Renee updating her about her flight, and then reassuring her that she had landed safely.

Before dinner, she retreated to her bedroom, and began to mindlessly organize her closet. Her mood suffered the more time she spent sorting through her clothes, old shoes, and fraying scarves. Each item would trigger an unwanted memory of a time that was undeniably better. A time where her only stressors consisted of passing her English exam and running out of flashcards. It was a time where she had friends, and a semblance of a future.

Scrolling through her phone, she realized that the last person she had texted besides her parents, Jasper, and the Cullens… was someone she had correspondence with months ago. Her finger hovered briefly over all of her social media applications, but she couldn't bring herself to tap through them. The person depicted in those profiles was the best version of her—a person who would soon be dead. What would be the point of seeing the updates of her old friends, acquaintances, and distant family? Why would she hurt herself, dwelling on everything that she was not allowed to have?

She sighed at the texts from Edward that she hadn't even opened, deleted the emails reminding her to register for spring quarter classes, and then stared down at Jasper's contact with an uncertain thumb over the call icon.

And then she pressed it.

But there were hardly two rings before the call switched to a woman telling her: This number cannot be reached right now. Please try again later.

Of course, Jasper wouldn't have a voicemail. She laid down on her bed, staring at her ceiling, trying to distract herself with thoughts of a vampire king—Aro Volturi, perhaps—leaving Jasper a voicemail.

And then her phone began to ring, and Bella jolted, scrambling to sit before glancing at the screen. Her heart dropped to her stomach.

Alice Cullen beamed across her screen.

She hated how her hands shook when she lifted the phone to her ear. "Alice."

"Bella, my dear," Alice cooed through the speaker. "How are you?"

Bella didn't respond, keenly aware of each frantic breath rattling her chest.

"Oh—don't forget to change that bandage on your throat," Alice said. "Clean it well. We don't want that bite to be infected."

She reached up to absently itch at her turtleneck, right over where Jasper had tended to her wound. "What do you want, Alice?"

"Edward is very sad that you haven't been responding to him."

"I see."

"Do you? You're forgetting who put that ring on your finger."

"I'll text him," she said emptily.

"Of course you will, darling Bella. By the way—good news!—those gowns I've ordered have just been delivered. But I thought it would be more fun if we took a quick trip to New York, and you could have the proper couture experience. I suggested France, truthfully, but Carlisle doesn't want you too close to Italy right now. Understandable."

A sudden, nervous burst of energy ran through her. "I don't need to go to New York, Alice."

"No? But aren't we all about new experiences?"

Bella closed her eyes, and forced herself to say, "You said the gowns were there at the house, right? I can come over and try them on."

"Oh, would you?" Alice pleaded sweetly. "What a kind compromise. I'll see you tomorrow."

And then Alice hung up.

Bella's hands tightened on her phone as she glared at her call log. And then, being Alice's darling Bella, she opened Edward's texts.

They were endless.

Pictures of wine bottles, buildings with intricate architecture, an occasional selfie with yet another grand fountain behind him. Her heart should melt at the attention he gave her. She should be looking through his messages, thinking, my fiance is in Italy!

She scowled, dropping her phone and massaging her temples, if only to regain some sense of control over her racing mind. She had no idea what to say. What do you tell a man that you wished was dead?

Looks fun! She typed, and quickly hit send.

And then she tried Jasper again. Desperately.

Two rings, and nothing.

So she texted him: Call me. Please.

Her room was once again entirely too quiet. Charlie was snoozing in the living room, and there wasn't a single creak or groan in the house. The silence only added to her dread, so she picked up her phone, and called Renee.

Hugging a pillow to her chest, she found herself smiling when her mother began to go on about a flight attendant who wouldn't stop eying Phil. She laid down on her bed, pressed her phone to her ear, and closed her eyes. Eventually, she was crying.

"…and I don't even understand why they have those stores at airports, do you? What are you going to do? Buy your mistress a Gucci purse right before you catch a flight back home to your wife?"

"Right," Bella said thickly. "It doesn't make sense."

There was a long pause. "Bella, are you okay?"

But Bella only plastered a hand over her mouth, and hugged her pillow closer. She didn't understand this burst of emotion, but she also did. Her mortal mind struggled with her impending death. Her instinct for survival warned her of the imminent danger she was in. But ultimately, right now, there was a deeper, more raw feeling clawing at her chest: the understanding, the grim acceptance that she may not see her mother again.

"Bella?"

"I'm sorry," she said, sniffling. "I just can't believe we were together this morning."

"Honey, did something happen?"

"No, mom. Tell me more about your Uber driver. He seemed a little insane."

A pause. "Is it because of Edward?"

Her throat ached with how hard she was trying to keep her emotions in. "No."

Another pause. "You don't have to do this, baby girl." Bella could hardly stand the sincerity in her tone, her palm pressing harder against her mouth. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. You know that, right?"

And right then, Bella lost the fight. After muting herself, she set the phone down, and then clutched the pillow to her face.

Shoulders trembling, chest heaving, she weeped as silently as she could.

The next morning, there was no missed call. There wasn't even a text.

Bella scrambled out of bed and stood before her window, rubbing at her eyes that were entirely too puffy, feeling the tightness of her cheeks from salty tears. And then she stuck her phone to her ear as she called Jasper's number.

Two rings.

And nothing.

There was a knock on the front door, and Bella almost fell out of her chair at the dining table as she raced to open it. Socks sliding on the wooden floors, she slammed against the door before pulling it open.

The expected red eyes didn't greet her.

"Esme," Bella breathed.

"Good morning," Esme said, a kind smile on her lips, as if she hadn't almost broken down in the car yesterday. "May I come in?"

Charlie had already left for work, so Bella stepped to the side, gesturing vaguely for her to enter.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Esme said.

"Just breakfast," Bella said, following her towards the kitchen, with her half eaten plate of eggs on the dining table.

Esme sat across the table from Bella's plate, folding her hands on her lap. She was in a pristine white combination of a pencil skirt and a blazer, as if she were about to attend a meeting with the board of directors. Certainly not an outfit for a muddy, rainy day. "What would you like to do today?"

Warily, Bella seated herself before her eggs, acutely aware of her mismatched sweats and t-shirt. "What do you mean?"

"I'm here to accompany you, much like how Jasper would."

Bella glanced down at her phone screen. "Where is Jasper?"

"Busy."

"Busy?"

Esme's cheery shell cracked just a little. "With Alice."

"Did she break his phone?" Bella asked, only half joking. "I haven't been able to reach him."

"And you may not be able to for a while. From what I understand, Alice doesn't want Jasper seeing you. And Jasper doesn't want Alice near you. At least—neither of them want the other to have any sort of… alone time."

Bella tiredly rubbed at her face. She hadn't slept well at all. "He could at least text me."

"I'm sure if he could, he would, Bella."

For a while, they both sat there. Bella didn't eat more of her food, and Esme looked around the room.

Finally, Bella got up to wrap her eggs with plastic wrap to save for later. Leaning against the counter, she said, "I'm supposed to come over today. For my wedding dress."

Esme nodded. "I know. The living room is filled with tulle and glitter."

"Do you think she's doing this just to psychologically torture me?"

"I think Alice simply believes that you will be wedded to Edward."

"She might be losing faith in that belief if she's keeping Jasper from me." Bella stared helplessly at Esme. "Alice suspects something. You see it too, don't you?"

"She may, or she may not," Esme said slowly after a pause, a fingernail scrubbing absently at a stain on the table. "A physical relationship between a human and a vampire is not a direct indicator of anything more, Bella. It's quite popular within the majority of human-drinkers."

You know I've been drinking from her for a while. Is it surprising?

"Jasper just has to treat me like any other blood conquest," Bella concluded quickly.

"And that's difficult." Esme gave her a pained smile. "Too often, he has shown that he cares for you. He has shown that he considers your thoughts, and your feelings. Alice will start from what she saw in her vision, and scan retroactively to what she has observed between you—every interaction, every conversation." Esme then turned uneasy. "And if she determines that there is a relationship more than what Jasper presents to her, well… I don't know, Bella. I don't know what she would do."

Bella hated how fast her heart fluttered in her chest. She hated how Esme was probably listening intently for it. "Jasper told me that if Carlisle found out about our agreement to mate, that he would send Jasper away. Could Alice do the same?"

"Alice is capable of anything." Esme stood up, glancing out the window. "And she expects you in the afternoon. Perhaps we may go to a cafe? And there, perhaps you may eat a little more than you already have?"

Bella scoffed through a surprising hint of a smile. "I see you're also obsessed with my food intake."

"You must take care of yourself," Esme said. "Jasper insists that you do." From the pocket of her blazer, she pulled out a note. With a small grin, she added, "I have instructions."

A/N: This chapter: Esme's (tainted) mating dilemma. Alice and Jasper, both seemingly working to keep the other away from Bella. And a new human-sitter?

Thank you for welcoming me back after such a lengthy break!