Chapter Eleven
Edward
Don't confront her. Don't start an argument.
That was what Alice had instructed me to do. Not advice—an order. Her voice had been clipped, urgent, as if she was trying to stop a train already in motion.
Just sit across from her, Edward. Be polite. For Bella.
I had to wonder what exactly she'd seen. What kind of outcome was so volatile it warranted a warning. Or a plea.
So I didn't say anything when Bella opened the door and introduced me.
I didn't ask Renee what she thought of the abuse her daughter had endured.
Did she lose sleep over the signatures she'd scribbled across those medical waivers?
Had she ever read the fine print—seen the way the words treatment and punishment blurred together when they were written in the same clinical hand?
Did she know what kind of place she had delivered her daughter into?
Did she care?
"Do you live nearby, Edward?" she asked.
Maybe that's why he's here, she thought, trying to piece me together.
As if the only possible explanation for my presence was proximity.
As if I'd simply wandered in from down the street.
I nodded. "Just outside of town. With my family."
"Your family?" she prompted, her tone syrupy with false interest.
"My father's a doctor at the hospital," I said smoothly. "My mother restores old homes, when she can find one that speaks to her."
I left it there. Just enough information to close off another theory. One more dead end for her to run into.
"How long have you both been together?" she asked next, shifting her focus to Bella.
I didn't give her a chance to dig. "Long enough," I said, colder than I meant to.
Bella jumped in before she could react.
"We met when I first moved here," she said lightly. "We just… kind of hit it off."
I could feel Renee watching me. Measuring. Searching.
And then something shifted in her mind.
She was thinking of the kitten Bella used to beg for as a child.
The one she never got.
Because she didn't trust her daughter to care for something small and alive without breaking it.
She'll ruin it, Renee thought as her gaze returned to me. Or he'll run. Because it's hard.
My hand curled into a fist beneath the table.
I wanted to walk away. More than anything.
But Bella was cemented to her seat, jaw tight, eyes dry.
So I stayed too. Anchored by her silence.
"What do you think of the house?" she asked, glancing around.
Bella hesitated for a moment before answering. "It's just like I remember it."
Renee didn't push her.
Didn't ask how that felt.
Didn't mention Charlie.
Didn't say his name.
Of course she didn't.
Instead she brought the one thing I truly wished she'd leave alone.
"Well you wouldn't have caught Anna here. Far too quiet and boring." She prised , the first genuine smile I'd seen since her arrival spreading across her lips.
"I always thought New York or….i don't know, backpacking across Europe. Something exciting"
Bella lets out a rough breath.
His jaw clenched.
"I've been thinking about her a lot lately." Renee explains.
"Me too." Bella whispers. "And Max, Bella adds without thinking.
"Yes well… " Renee's voice suddenly becomes cold.
He could see that if it were possible to reach out and grabs the words you spoke, Bella would and she would swallow it back down.
"How long are you in Forks for?" I asked quietly, trying to fill the deafening silence, trying to save Bella from it.
"I actually have to leave early Friday morning. Susan.. you remember Susan don't you Bella?"
Bella nodded as her shaky hands picked up the cup of hot tea.
"She's having a baby shower , so I'm on my way to Seattle. Just passing through." Renee said thoughtlessly. Not even occurring to her how incredibly painful her simple words were to hear.
"I'd like to see what you've done with the place Bella?"
It was clear I wasn't invited on the house tour. A part of me rejoiced at the idea, the rest of me tensed.
How incredibly unsettling it was to be fully aware that I had sent her off with vampires before and never once feel the fear i do right now watching her approach the stairs with her own mother.
I stayed still.
Not because I wanted to give them space, but because every step I took would've been toward the stairs. And if I started up them, I wouldn't have stopped.
Not until I pulled Bella out of whatever trap her mother was laying.
So I stood in the kitchen, fists clenched, eyes on the ceiling.
Their footsteps stopped. The door to Bella's room creaked open.
And then, silence.
Renee's thoughts buzzed faintly—distracted, self-satisfied, already critiquing the room before she spoke a word.
Still drab. Still plain. She never did grow out of that.
I tuned in tighter. Sharper. And through her eyes, I saw Bella.
She was standing near the bed, unsure of where to place herself. Her arms were crossed—not in defiance, but protection. Her shoulders were pulled in, her chin down.
Small. Guarded.
No wonder he's here, Renee thought, circling the room with slow, deliberate steps. Someone like him could play house in a place like this for a while. A quiet girl. A tragic story. Men love to feel needed.
She smiled at Bella, and it looked warm from the outside. But I could feel the ice beneath it.
"You've made it cozy," she said aloud, her tone laced with condescension. "Very you."
Bella didn't answer.
Renee sat on the edge of the bed like it was hers. She folded one leg over the other and smoothed her blouse.
Then the interrogation began.
"So. Edward," she said casually. "How did that happen?"
Bella hesitated, her heart skipping just slightly.
"We met when I moved here."
"Yes, you said that downstairs." Renee's smile tightened. And that didn't answer anything, did it?
She tilted her head. "But why is he still here?"
Bella blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Renee said, "boys don't just hang around sick girls out of the goodness of their hearts."
My hands flexed at my sides. I pressed them flat to the counter to stop from shattering the ceramic edge.
Renee leaned forward, and in her thoughts, I saw the calculation in her eyes.
Better to say it now before she falls too far into the fantasy.
"Sweetheart," she said gently, "he's handsome. And kind, yes. But I've seen this before. You get attached, and then… it gets complicated."
Bella looked down.
"He probably thinks he means well. But you and I both know what happens when people start playing nurse. They stay until it stops feeling rewarding."
"Edward isn't like that," Bella murmured.
"Isn't he?" Renee asked, brow arching. "Do you even really know him?"
I saw it then—through Renee's mind—Bella's face begin to crumble. She tried to hide it, but Renee saw it too. And worse—she felt victorious.
Not cruel. Not malicious.
Just setting things straight.
"It's just… with everything you've been through, it's easy to mistake support for love," Renee went on. "And love for permanence. Especially when someone shows up right when you're at your worst."
Bella was silent. Holding every word in her mouth like a broken tooth she didn't want to touch.
Renee rose from the bed and walked toward the window.
Better she learns now. Before it becomes another thing to unravel.
I had heard enough.
The stairs creaked before I even realized I'd moved. One, then another. My steps slow, deliberate, but carrying all the weight I felt pressing down on me.
Upstairs, the conversation had gone quiet.
But Bella's heartbeat was not.
At first, it was steady—fast, but within reason. Then it began to climb. Unnatural. Unsettling. Her breathing shallowed with it. I could hear the tension building in her lungs, the pressure folding over itself like waves.
Renee's voice came through again, delicate and faux-apologetic.
"I didn't mean to upset you," she said gently. "I'm sorry if it came out too harshly. I just… I want you to really think about what this is."
This—me.
And behind the softness of her voice, her thoughts were unwavering.
Someone had to say it. She's young. And he's too involved, too attentive. That kind of thing doesn't last. Better to let her down gently before she falls harder.
She believed she was doing the right thing.
That she was protecting Bella by dismantling her hope.
Bella's heart gave another hard thud.
I was already moving.
Two steps at a time, silent but fast. The hum of Renee's voice rose again as I reached the landing.
"Maybe we could all go to dinner tomorrow night," she said lightly. "We can talk. The three of us."
Bella's heart pounded like a trapped bird.
And in that instant, it struck me—how it had always puzzled me, the distance between them. How Bella had managed to hide so much from her mother. Her pain. Her past. The truth.
But I knew better now.
Renee hadn't missed anything.
She hadn't seen because she never looked.
She was oblivious to anything that didn't orbit her directly.
Inside the room, there was a pause, then Bella's voice cracked through the silence.
"I—" she swallowed. "I need to use the bathroom. I'll see you tomorrow."
Her footsteps moved quickly—unsteady and rushed—but Renee didn't notice. She leaned in, kissed Bella on the cheek like she was clocking out for the day, and turned toward the door.
She nearly collided with me in the hall.
Her eyes met mine, surprised for only a fraction of a second. Then they settled into a neutral expression, composed and unreadable. No greeting. No acknowledgment. Just that same polished civility she wore like a mask.
I didn't speak either. I didn't trust myself to.
We stood like that for a second—two strangers, both knowing exactly what had happened in the room behind her, and neither willing to say it.
Then she walked past me.
I watched her. Every click of her heel on the floorboards sounded like a hammer against glass.
She moved easily, gracefully, already thinking about tomorrow.
Dinner will do her good. A change of scene. If he's still here by then, maybe he'll hear something he needs to hear too.
She reached the stairs and disappeared from view.
And then I heard it.
A sharp, quiet gasp.
It came from the bathroom, barely audible to anyone else—but not to me. It was the kind of sound you made when your lungs forgot how to expand. The sound of panic clawing its way up a throat already raw with restraint.