The Breakers Chapter 14

~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~

Chapter 14

BPOV

"Do you need more syrup for your pancakes?" I ask Peyton at breakfast on Sunday morning.

As expected, I'm answered with a huff and a quick shake of her head. She hasn't strung more than two sentences together since last night and I don't really expect that to change any time in the near future either. She's apparently not speaking to me because I told her Edward wouldn't be coming to dinner tonight.

It wasn't an easy decision. In fact, I had convinced myself more than a few times to just go ahead and tell him to come like usual, but every time I had my fingers poised to call him, I stopped. I'd actually let the phone ring one time before I hung up. A part of me was hoping he'd answer right away and I'd hear his voice.

I miss him.

So much.

It's only been two days but it feels like its been so much longer. I'm well aware that it's my fault I haven't seen him, but I also know I've needed some space to work things out in my mind. I was finally able to sleep last night, or rather I passed out from sheer exhaustion. The four or five hours of sleep I did manage to get have gone a long way toward clearing out the cobwebs so to speak so I can focus on Edward and what he's told me. I realize that there are a multitude of questions I have to ask him. I only hope he was serious when he told me he'd tell me anything I wanted to know.

"Mom, is Edward mad at me?" Peyton asks in a sad, subdued voice.

I gasp and then slide off my chair, falling down on my knees beside her. I tried to tell her last night that he wasn't mad at her, but like her mother, she narrowed her eyes at me and grunted when I attempted to explain. Granted I was pretty much winging it because I couldn't tell her why he wasn't coming to dinner, and I refuse to lie to her. A shading of the truth, maybe, if a situation calls for it, but I haven't ever, and I won't ever, lie to her.

"Baby, no, of course not," I try to soothe as I rub circles on her back.

She's ramrod stiff, not an inch of give in her whatsoever and I know the tension results more from the unknown than from the fact she's really mad at me. She's confused and scared, and rightly so.

I glance toward the door and see the sun shining through the window. "Come on, P, let's go take a walk," I urge her.

Breakfast has been a colossal waste of time because neither one us feel like eating, not even her favorite chocolate chip pancakes. It was a bribe plain and simple, something to try to make her feel better. I know better. My daughter isn't an idiot and I know full well she's been worried about the tension she can feel swirling around us.

Stubbornly she doesn't move until I nudge her off the chair. "Baby, let's go. I want to talk to you."

She huffs and waits a full minute before she moves, just long enough to let me know that she got up when she wanted to, not when I did and then stalks toward the door. I try not to smile at her antics, but it's impossible not to. I know I shouldn't encourage her stubbornness, but I'm actually rather pleased with the fact that she's not afraid to show her displeasure … respectfully of course.

I grab my phone and we head out the door. We walk down our street and then follow the path at the end that leads toward the beach. There's been a slight break in the stormy weather we've had the past few days so it's nice to see the sun shining, even through thin, wispy clouds. The air is heavy with humidity, more so than normal, and there's a slight chill in the air because of all the rain.

We walk down the beach without talking. I'm stalling as I try to get a clear idea of what I want to say to her. She's so smart, not to mention perceptive, and that makes it next to impossible to get anything past her, as uncomfortable as that might be at times. I cringe just thinking about when it's time to have 'the talk' with her … and then chuckle just a bit when I remember what I told Xavier.

The man's a fool if he thinks I'm letting him off the hook when the time comes.

She's kicking a rock down the beach as we walk along and I glance down at her. She still has a scowl on her face and her little nose is scrunched up - classic Peyton signs she's still put-out with me. The girl definitely has learned the fine art of grudge holding. To her, it's practically an art form.

"I'm sorry you haven't seen Edward for a few days," I begin. I figure it's best to just dive right in.

She humphs and crosses her arms. When she looks up at me, she's glaring. "If he's not mad at me, he must be mad at you. He promised we'd play Monopoly when he got back and we haven't yet," she accuses and my stomach drops.

Damn it.

"Come on, let's sit," I tell her and lead her toward a group of rocks.

I find a spot and wince when she sits as far away from me as she can while still sitting where I told her to. I swallow painfully a few times and close my eyes as I try to figure out how to explain what's going on without telling her everything. Until Edward and I have a chance to talk, there's no way I'm letting Peyton find out about him being in prison. When the time comes to tell her, it will be Edward's decision as to how.

I owe him that.

"Peyton," I begin slowly, carefully. "I know it's hard for you to understand, but Edward isn't mad at either one of us."

"But why isn't he here? He always comes over on Sundays!" she cries out, clearly not happy with my lame attempt to explain.

I imitate her huff from earlier, totally unsure of what to tell her. I can't tell her he told me something that shocked me so much I can't think straight, because if I do that, she'll want to know what it is. I can't tell her we got in a fight, because that's not the truth, either. We aren't fighting, at all. I just need some space to clear my head so that I can figure out what I want to ask Edward, but Peyton won't understand that either. All she knows is for the past almost two months Edward has been at our house for Sunday dinner and now all of a sudden, he's not going to be.

I don't blame her for being confused; I am, too, truth be told. I know I want Edward. The questions I have don't change that fact. I just need to know more. I know we need to talk; I've just needed a few days to think and absorb everything. I know I'm not ready to see him yet, no matter how much I want to.

And, I really, really want to.

Sighing, I run a hand through my hair - a move that causes a catch in my throat because it's something Edward does so often, but I push that thought back to focus on Peyton.

"P, I just need you to trust me, okay? I know it's confusing and I know you have questions, but Edward just couldn't be here today, that's all. It's not your fault; you didn't do anything wrong."

She eyes me. I can tell she's working things out in her little head, and I don't say anything. I relax a bit when I see her lower her arms and huff in frustration because I haven't given her anything else.

"This is one of those grownup things, isn't it?" she questions shrewdly.

Nodding, I chuckle softly because really, she's way too damn smart sometimes. "It is, baby. I know it's unfair, but really, this is between me and Edward. I know it kind of stinks, but it can't be helped right now."

She jumps off the rock she's sitting on and puts her hands on her hips. "Yeah, it really sucks," she tells me succinctly then turns and walks toward the jetty where her box is buried.

I let her go, not even bothering to get upset about her using the word 'suck' … because she's right. I watch her walk away with a mixture of sadness and love and wish, not for the first time, that Evan was still alive to see what an amazing little girl she is. Thinking about Evan always hits me hard, and this time it's no different … but then again it is.

That consuming sense of loss has lessened. I can feel it, even though it's only a little bit. I know it will always be there, as it should be, but whereas before, anytime I thought about Evan I could only see guilt and blame, now I'm able to remember him … my dear friend and Peyton's father.

I know it's because of Edward. Allowing thoughts of him to come forth, I stare out at the water. Like the rising of the tides, the pull toward Edward is undeniable; it's been there from the very beginning. It's what sent me running out of The Breakers like a scared little mouse, scurrying away from the big, scary cat to its little hidey-hole. Of course, just like a mouse, I couldn't resist poking my head out, just to see if I could.

Knowing what I do now, remembering what he looked like the first time I saw him, makes so much more sense. That air of danger still lingers around him, but the danger isn't because he's a bad person. I know that with all my heart, even if I'm aware of the fact that I don't really know that much about his life, especially his life before he arrived in Corea. No, the danger is because he's seen things, done things … been exposed to things that in my sheltered life I've never had to imagine. Drugs, guns, fighting, shootings … the only reference I have for any of that is what I see on TV or in a movie, or what I've read about in books. Living in Corea all my life, even though I've been to Boston and New York City and to smaller cities like Bar Harbor and Portland, I've still not been exposed to too much.

People drink and get into drunken brawls at the pub in Ellsworth, or there might be an argument that winds up with a few punches being thrown at the American Legion Hall during a wedding reception but nothing like what Edward's seen and done. Every year there's at least one fisherman that dies out on the boats, but I've never had to make a life or death decision like Edward did. I've never held a dying man in my arms, his blood coating my hands as I fight to keep him alive.

How has he lived with that? And how has living with all he's seen and done changed him? He's as gentle as a lamb with Peyton, with me, too, but I can tell there's always a barely contained anger simmering beneath the surface. I saw a flash of it when he talked to Xavier at Finn's, but then he was more concerned about me than getting into a fight with Xavier. What would it take to make the thread that keeps the lid on all that snap and for everything he's kept bottled inside from exploding?

Can I take a chance on Peyton being a witness to that, or worse yet, what if somehow it got directed toward her? It's these few nagging questions that keep popping up that keep my mind in constant motion. I know what my heart believes; it's my head that keeps playing devil's advocate.

So many questions, I think as I sigh. Looking up I see Peyton perched on top of the rocks of the jetty, her battered tin box in her hands and I smile, thinking back to the night on the beach and the bonfire. I'm still so amazed at the fact that Peyton not only showed Edward her box, but she gave him some of her special treasure. Sure to most people they're ordinary things, but to Peyton, they're magical.

I told her once a few years ago when she started asking about her father that her dad was in heaven and that he would leave her special treasures on the beach so she'd always know he was watching over her. That's why she collects things on the beach and keeps them in her box. We've never shared that story with anyone and she's never shown anyone what's inside … until Edward.

I have no doubt that Edward loves Peyton. It doesn't matter that he hasn't said the words; it's evident in everything he does as far as she's concerned. It's in the way he talks to her and about her, reverent and adoring. It's in the way he looks at her, like she's the shiny, new, first bicycle under the Christmas tree. It's in the way he holds her hand like his sole purpose in life is to always stay by her side, ready to swoop in if she needs it.

He loves her … and I think, no I know, I'm okay with that.

My fingers are in my pocket and pulling out my phone before I even have time to think about it. No matter what things Edward and I have to work out or how long it takes us to do so, the fact remains that Edward and Peyton are best friends. It isn't fair to her … or to him … to pretend they aren't.

I tap the screen to call him before I have a chance to chicken out. It rings once then, "Bella." He says my name on a sad, anxious sigh.

Tears burn the second his voice washes over me and I have to close my eyes to keep them from falling down over my cheeks. My heart aches and a sob gets caught in my throat. Oh, this hurts … so fucking bad. I haven't said anything yet because I know as soon as I open my mouth I'll beg him to come and I'm not ready for that … yet.

I hiccup and I immediately hear, "Baby, don't cry. Please don't cry."

"I'm sorry," I manage to say between deep breaths. I'm sorry for lots of things, but they're not what I called about.

"Bella," he whispers my name again. I can just see his eyes, gray and turbulent, like thunderclouds heavy with rain.

I finally find my voice and say, "Edward." His name stings like a paper cut, acute and quick. I breathe through the pain though and keep going. "I know this isn't fair to ask you, but will you talk to Peyton? She doesn't understand why you're not here and I'm afraid my reason didn't meet with her approval."

He laughs once then it dies immediately. "Of course I will. I've been worried and thinking about her all day … about both of you," he adds on softly after a beat.

"I miss you," I tell him, the words honest and true, spill from my lips before I can stop them.

He's silent for a moment then says, "This might sound totally wrong, but I'm really fucking glad to hear it. It means there's still a chance."

I cradle the phone against my ear and rub my chest over my heart with my other one. I don't say anything so he says "Christ, Bella. I shouldn't … I didn't mean to say that."

I can't help but smile a little at how awkward and unsure he sounds, though I sober quickly when I think about why that is. He wasn't kidding when he mentioned not having much experience.

Glancing at Peyton, I watch her pick something up off the beach and place it carefully in her box. "I have so many questions," I tell him, my own voice a question.

"And I'll answer every one of them," he promises immediately, his voice full of conviction. "I won't keep anything from you, Bella. I promise, even if it's hard to tell you or hard for you to hear. I want you to know everything. I hope you know that I wanted to tell you about Boston for a long time. I wasn't trying to keep it from you; I was just waiting for the right time." At that we both laugh and it feels so good to do it together.

"Well, I'm not sure you managed that, but I'm glad it happened when it did."

"Yeah?" he asks sounding surprised and relieved at the same time. "Your dad said the same thing."

I take a deep tension-relieving breath and shift on the rock to find a more comfortable position. Sitting on a cold, wet rock isn't exactly the most ideal thing, but hearing his voice and feeling closer to him makes the fact that my ass is half asleep fade into the background. A rather telling statement I think.

"I know. He told me Friday night," I answer him a little hesitantly.

I hear him blow out a nervous breath and then he asks, "You're not upset I talked to him are you?" His voice is so small and he sounds so … lonely.

It hits me like a tsunami … he is alone. He has no one, well, except for the people's he's met since he arrived here. We're all he has and the realization of that takes my breath away.

My voice cracks but I try to keep it soft and even. "No, of course not, Edward. I'm … I'm really happy you feel like you can go to him. You need someone you can talk to."

He's completely silent for what feels like long minutes and then he whispers, "I talk to Carlisle, too."

I'm stunned and utterly speechless as his words register. I know enough about what Carlisle used to do to understand the huge implication of what he's just told me. Holy shit.

"Bella?" he questions almost frantically.

"I … that's really good. I'm sure it helps?" I try to hide the question buried in that statement, but know I haven't done a very good job at it.

He chuckles, and it sounds like a mixture of self-deprecation and relief all at once. "It does. I wasn't sure it would at first, but yeah, it really has. Carlisle's a pain in my ass about it, and he enjoys being right about the fact that I'm more fucked up than I thought I was." His words are harsh, but there is no denying the respect and affection he feels for Carlisle either.

"Edward." I sigh, hating to hear him sound so … lost and bitter.

He sighs as well and I can picture him running a hand through his hair while he flexes his jaw. I hear him move, like he's pacing back and forth, nervous and agitated. "Bella, I'm not going to lie to you. I have a lot of shit to deal with, most of it I've ignored for a long fucking time. Since getting out and coming here, meeting you and Peyton and everyone else, and finding a job that though it kicks my ass from sunup to sundown, I find I really enjoy, I realize just how much I haven't dealt with. I probably shouldn't tell you that, not while you're thinking about everything else, but fuck, baby, I don't want to lose you," he whispers brokenly.

"You won't." The words are out before I can stop them, but once they are it's as if everything that's wrong is suddenly right again. Tears of relief fall. I clutch the phone like it's a life preserver, which I suppose in a way it is. I feel pieces of my heart, pieces I thought were long since broken and gone forever, fuse back together and for the first time in a really long time, I feel as if I'm finally me … or much closer to the me I want to be.

I've known since Edward rode off on his bike that I wanted him … that I needed him. I've known it a lot longer than that, probably since the first moment he walked into the restaurant. I'm tired of living in the past, of carrying around the guilt I feel every day for Evan's death and I'm tired of being alone.

I want Edward in my life and I want him in Peyton's.

I'm sure of it.

"Bella," he croaks and I can tell he's overcome and shocked and probably not sure he heard me right.

I can hardly believe myself, but I know what I told him is nothing but the truth.

Spying Peyton poking at the sand on the beach with a stick, I snort, and roll my eyes at myself. "We sure have a way with timing don't we?" I ask, meaning for it to be rhetorical but he answers anyway.

"Yeah, we really fucking do."

Peyton looks in my direction and I stand up and wave her over. She twists her mouth at me, like she's going to debate whether to come or not, but I wave her over again and she starts walking slowly toward me. I can't tell, but I'm sure she rolled her eyes and more than likely muttered something under her breath before she does.

"Look, I'm exhausted and I know you are, too. If you still want to, why don't you talk to Peyton and then get some rest. Let me spend the day trying to smooth things over with her and then when we both have clearer heads, we'll talk. I um …" I stammer, knowing it's my turn to give him something. "I want to tell you about Evan."

He sucks in a sharp breath and I can almost see him shaking his head at me. "If you aren't ready, Bella, I'm not going to push. I don't want you to think-"

I cut him off. "Edward, it's time and it's right that you know."

"Okay," he answers quietly. "Sprite's not mad at me is she?"

"No, she's mad at me. She told me it had to be my fault you weren't here today," I tell him honestly.

I can hear him start to argue with me, but I cut him off again. "It is my fault. I'm not saying that I did anything wrong because I know I needed time to think about everything, but don't say it's not my fault. "

He sighs. "I don't want you to feel bad. I understand why you needed some space."

"Yeah, well, try explaining that to a very opinionated seven-year-old who happens to think you walk on water. I swear you could probably tell her you hate Tom Brady's hair and she would still adore you," I tell him with a shake of my head.

"But, Bella, I do hate Tom Brady's hair. The guy had a ponytail for fuck's sake!"

I giggle, and damn does it feel good. "Yes, well, you won't tell Peyton you hate it, that's the point. It's okay, really. She and I will talk when you get done speaking to her, and make up over some chocolate chip cookies and milk. It'll be fine."

"If you're sure," he says still sounding like he doesn't believe me, but giving in just the same.

"Trust me, if you spend enough time with us, you'll learn all the tricks," I tease.

"I plan on doing just that," he answers in a voice laced with so much … just so much that it brings tears to my eyes.

I sniff and smile telling him, "Good. Here she is. I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Absolutely."

I hand Peyton the phone saying, "Someone wants to talk to you."

She takes the phone and looks at me with a frown on her face that disappears as soon as she hears who's on the other end. "Edward!" she squeals. The smile on her face is so big I'm not sure she can talk and smile at the same time.

I sit down on the beach, and dig my fingers into the warm, damp sand as her voice fades in and out as she talks to Edward. I stare out at the water and a piercing sense of longing washes over me. I miss the water. I miss swimming in it and being on it … and the sense of freedom and exhilaration that comes along with it.

"Edward, I miss you," I hear Peyton tell him with a little whine in her voice.

I feel bad that she does, but I can't but feel happy at the same time. I miss him, too, but the fact that I do, and the fact that I've basically just told Edward that we're going to try, makes my heart do that stutter step thing. I glance at the water again, marveling at how quickly things can change, and wonder, if sooner than I realize, I might not have to miss the water anymore.

~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~

"Ahmmm," I groan as I stretch, not quite fully awake. I lift my arms over my head, my muscles flex then relax. My fingers rub the sleep out of my eyes and they burn from the grittiness beneath my eyelids. Tentatively, slowly, I open them as I sit up. "Damn," I mutter, when I notice the disarray of the sheets and comforter twisted around my legs and on top of the bed.

I'm still for a moment, and a sense of unease settles around me, like a heavy, wet blanket. It's obvious from the soreness in my body and the chaos on my bed that my sleep was anything but easy, but when I close my eyes again and try to think, I can't remember waking up from a nightmare during the night. There's a sour taste in my mouth and my stomach lurches as I wrack my brain but still comes up blank. I remember laying in bed with Peyton for the longest time, reading and talking, and then coming to bed, but after that … nothing. My skin breaks out in goosebumps. I wrap my arms tightly around myself and rub my skin. It doesn't help. I'm still chilled to the bone.

"What the hell?" I mumble again. I need to get in the shower but for some reason, I don't want to get out of bed. It's like if I do, whatever plagued me while I slept is somehow going to manifest itself into some evil incarnation in the light of day. I shake my head at myself and decisively set my feet on the floor. Like a ghost is following me, I scurry to the bathroom and shut the door tightly behind me, barely resisting the urge to lock it.

"Get a grip, you damn baby," I hiss at my reflection in the mirror. I flip the faucets for the shower and quickly undress, yipping loudly when I step under the water and it's not quite hot yet. Even when the water is almost uncomfortably hot, I'm still shivering, though thankfully not as much. It doesn't take long to do what I need to do and by the time I shut the water off, I feel a little better.

Stepping out of the shower, I grab a towel and wrap it tightly around me then hurry back to my room so I can get dressed. I'm not sure why, but I grab a pair of jeans instead of the shorts I've been wearing lately, put my Breakers t-shirt on, and slide my cell phone in my pocket. Walking out into the hall, I look toward Peyton's room but I decide to let her sleep in a little bit so I make my way quietly downstairs. When I glance out the front windows, I stop dead in my tracks.

It's no damn wonder I've felt like I just watched a black cat walk under a ladder. Even though it's supposed to be light outside, it's almost black because the storm clouds are so thick, like the smoke from a grease fire, heavy and menacing. I can't tell, but with the wind blowing, it looks like it's the middle of winter instead of the middle of summer and I shudder imagining it just as cold, too. The knock on the door makes me jump out of my skin. When I open the door and Xavier's standing there, my heart feels like it's going to race right out of my chest.

"Jesus, Xav, you scared the bejeebus out of me," I tell him, my skin prickling all over when a gust of wind follows him inside.

He shuts the door behind him and stomps his feet before he looks at me. "Well, good morning to you, too, sunshine," he says as he tips his head to the side. "You look better," he continues and the inflection at the end of his statement lets me know he's hoping I tell him why.

I scared the hell out of him on Friday, when he showed up to take me to work. To say I looked awful is being extremely kind. Eyes almost swollen shut, nose red and running, cheeks splotchy and tear-stained, I was a mess. It was even worse because I wouldn't … couldn't tell him what was wrong. After he threatened Edward for the fifth or sixth time, I exploded and told him to shut the hell up about Edward and that if he said one more bad thing about him, he could damn well leave. After that, he was silent though he watched me like a hawk all day.

I hate keeping things from him, but there was no way I was going to tell him about Edward, not then and not yet either. There are still so many things to ask Edward and understand before I even think about talking to Xavier about it. I imagine everyone will have to know or will find out now that Emmett knows.

I still can't believe he followed Mom and me to our parents' house and listened to us talking before jumping in like a raving lunatic. I don't care that his excuse is he knew there was something wrong and he was just trying to help; he had no right to do that.

Shaking my head, I focus again on Xavier who is still looking at me with his eyebrows raised. "I am better," I answer him simply and giggle when he grunts at me.

"Bell, you never used to keep things from me. What's going on? You looked like death warmed over on Friday morning and it was obvious you'd been crying for hours. If Edward did anything … " he warns.

I hold up my hand, stopping that train of thought right there. I might not be ready or able to tell him about Edward's past, but I won't let him badmouth him either. "Xav, stop. Just stop, okay? I'm a big girl. I don't need you to feel like you need to swoop in and protect me from everything anymore. It's gone on long enough and it's time for all of you to stop sheltering me because you all think I'm going to break at the least little thing."

I huff and turn, looking out the window as I try to get my emotions back under control. I've let everyone baby me for far too long … because it was easier than accepting what happened to Evan and moving past it. I can see that now. I don't know whether it was the talk with my mom last week, or finding out about Edward and realizing how much he's suffered and seeing that he still tries everyday to accept what's happened to him, or if it was listening to Emmett jump to conclusions about Edward and then assume to know what's best for me, but whether it was one thing or a combination of all of them, I know I've not helped myself at all by letting the people around me coddle me as if I was a fragile piece of glass.

Yesterday when I told Edward he wouldn't lose me, it was the first time in years I did something for me … and made a decision based on what I want rather than being too afraid to take a step because I'm suffocated by guilt.

It was … freeing.

Liberating.

And most of all - right.

My feelings for Edward are right. I know they are. I also know we have a ways to go before there are declarations of love and promises made, but that doesn't take away from the fact that he's become someone I can't live without. It seems as if I've ripped the floaties right off and dived straight into the deep end but it's what I want.

He's what I want.

I don't have any idea where the clarity has come from. Maybe it was hearing Edward's voice yesterday, maybe it has something to do with the dreams I can't remember from last night, I don't have any idea, but what I do know is, standing here, in the not so bright light of day, I can see things clearer than I ever have before.

"Bella?" Xavier asks when I haven't said anything for a few minutes.

I turn around and look at him and feel my mouth lift in a smile.

He stares at me but doesn't say anything. He watches, waits, then smiles himself. When he nods at me once before walking toward the kitchen, even the dreary weather outside can't put a damper on the giddiness I feel bubbling inside of me.

We make small talk as I fix our breakfast. He fills me in on the weekend he spent with Seth. They actually spent the night on Saturday in Bar Harbor and didn't get back home until late last night. I love hearing about their time together, only because it's so rare that they venture outside the safety and comfort of Corea together.

"He still won't move in with me." Xavier huffs as he pops a grape from the fruit bowl into his mouth.

I finish whisking the eggs and pour them into the skillet before turning around to face him. This argument has been going on between the two of them for far too long in my opinion and though I have a tendency to side with Seth when it comes to their fights, in this one, I'm firmly in Xavier's corner.

"I'm sorry, Xav," I tell him as I hand him a glass of orange juice and pour one for myself. "I know how much you want him to."

He sighs. "He does, too. That's what's so damn frustrating. It's not like the entire damn town doesn't already know we're together."

"Yeah, but his parents don't know," I remind him, though it's nothing he isn't more than a little aware of.

Seth and Xavier didn't 'come out' until after high school and by then Seth had decided he was staying in Corea to be with Xavier and Seth's parents moved away to be closer to his sister, Kim, and her family. Kim is a few years older than Seth and met her future husband on a mission trip to South America. Since Seth's parents have moved away, they've become much more rigid in their religious beliefs and Seth's relationship with Xavier would certainly be met with much disappointment, not to mention vitriol. Seth isn't close to them, but so far he hasn't been able to tell them he's gay.

It's the one thing that tests their relationship more than anything.

Xavier slams his glass on the counter and shakes his head, muttering, "Well, I wish he'd just tell them, damn it. I want us to live together. It makes no sense for him to keep staying at the boarding house. Hell, he spends more time with me at my place anyway."

I walk around the island and sit on the stool next to him. I reach up and throw my arm around him, though it doesn't go very far because the guy is a freaking giant. "I love you two, but I hate when you fight about this. I know it's hard, but they're his family, Xavier."

He's shaking his head before I'm even done. "No, I am, and you and Peyton are. And Carlisle and Esme and everyone else, here, are his family." He's emphatic and it brings tears to my eyes to hear the hurt in his voice, but also the strength of what he believes.

"I know and you're right." I lean over and lay my head on his shoulder.

"I've missed you, Bell," he says quietly and my heart swells when he kisses the top of my head. "I know you've got this new whatever the fuck you wanna call it going on with Edward, and besides seeing you upset on Friday, you've been happier than you've ever been, but just promise me that you'll still make time for me. I need my best girl to help me keep my boyfriend in line. He's scared of you; he just laughs at me."

I giggle, and cuddle closer to him. "I'll always be here for you," I whisper. Swallowing against the unsurprising lump that's just formed in my throat, I tell him, "I'm going to tell Edward about Evan."

Silence. It stretches for what seems an interminable amount of time before he slips his arm from my grasp and then wraps it tightly around me. "I'm so fucking proud of you," he says and his own voice is thick with emotion. "I can't even begin to tell you how happy I am to hear that. Things must be okay between the two of you if you're taking that step?" he questions and I know he's still wondering about Friday.

I lift my head, not even attempting to hide my smile. "They will be," I answer him cryptically.

He tips his head to the side and he holds my gaze for a moment. "You still aren't going to tell me what Friday was all about?" he asks incredulously.

"Nope."

I hop off the stool and rush to the stove, barely catching the eggs before they burn.

Peyton joins us, sleep rumpled and wearing a mismatched pair of shorts and a t-shirt. She's half asleep through most of breakfast, at least until Xavier asks about Edward and dinner yesterday. Apparently a pan of chocolate chip cookies, a double feature of Tangled (for the hundredth time it seems like) and The Little Mermaid which is both our favorites, hasn't completely absolved me in her eyes because she scowls in my direction. "He didn't come. Mom says it's between her and Edward," she mimics in a totally unflattering way. I don't sound anywhere near as whiny as she's imitating.

"Peyton," I warn. I've allowed her a little leeway where the situation is concerned only because I know it's upsetting and confusing to her, but enough is enough.

I didn't ask her about her phone call with Edward, knowing that whatever they talk about is between them and I trust the fact that he wouldn't say more than just the bare minimum of why he didn't come to dinner.

"Sorry," she mumbles sheepishly.

Xavier is watching the exchange with a bit of a smirk on his face, though he also seems a bit uncomfortable, too.

I clear the dishes and get the dishwasher loaded, purposely not looking at him and not mentioning anything about what Peyton said. Once she's grabbed her backpack and I grab my purse and phone, we head out the door. A gust of wind swirls around and the wind chimes that hang in the corner of the front porch ring out almost eerily. There are a few stubborn rays of daylight that manage to sneak through the heavy blanket of clouds and somehow they seem more ominous than if it was just overcast.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I grab it, wondering if it's Alice or Rose. I lose my balance as I walk, tripping over an invisible bump in the yard and my phone fumbles in my hand while I right myself. I stick my tongue out at the laughing duo climbing into the truck and when I lift the phone up to look at the text message, I almost drop it again because the message has stunned me stupid.

Edward.

Just wanted to tell you good morning and I hope you have a good day. I'll be thinking about you! E

I start bouncing up and down like a kid on a sugar high when the phone vibrates again.

Shit I hope its ok I sent you a message? Um k bye

And then once more.

Oh and tell Sprite I miss her too!

And now I'm squealing in such a high pitch I'm sure the neighbor's dog is running around in frantic circles from the noise.

Swoon. I rub my chest, above my heart, and it literally feels like it's trying to reach through my body and grab the phone clear out of my hand so it can place it right next to it. A kind of creepy thought I admit, but true nonetheless. I swear my smile is so big my cheeks hurt and it's in that moment that I'm desperate to see him.

So damn bad.

I'm ready to tell him about Evan, I'm ready to ask the questions I need answers to, and then, I'm ready to be his. I want to be his just like I want him to be mine. No more ghosts of our pasts, no more shadows that hang around like a dark cloud … only the bright, wide-open future, one that's full of endless possibilities.

I snort at myself and shake my head and wonder when the hell I turned into Harlequin Romance novel heroine, wiping my brow with the back of my hand while my voluptuous breasts heave as I proclaim my undying love to the male hero with the unbuttoned down to his navel shirt.

Then I giggle as if I've been given laughing gas at the dentist and slap a hand over my mouth to stifle the ridiculous sound from escaping. I look up and Xavier and Peyton are both looking at me as if I've lost my ever-loving mind and all I can do is shrug my shoulders and walk toward the truck so we can go.

"Do I even need to ask you who that was from?" Xavier teases when I get in my seat. I roll my eyes at him in answer.

Like he doesn't know.

Jerk.

He keeps glancing in my direction then snickering at me. I can only imagine the goofy look on my face, but I don't even care.

"Mom?" Peyton asks quietly from the backseat.

I turn around and wait for her to finish her question. Her face is serious; her slate-blue eyes far away as she watches out the window as we pass the trees that go by in a blur of green. Instantly I'm overtaken with a sense of déjà vu, remembering the day she and I drove by the docks and she declared that Edward needed her more than Xavier did. Little did I know how true those words would turn out to be.

Though I realize now that she's needed him just as much.

We both have.

"What is it, baby?" I ask gently. For some reason my heart is beating wildly in my throat and the hair on the back of my neck is standing on end. I don't feel a sense of foreboding exactly, it's more like anticipation.

It's been there since I opened my eyes this morning, this niggling feeling of … something. Actually I think it's been there since I went to sleep last night. This sense of impending change.

She wrings her hands, twisting them around nervously before she asks in a voice that I have to bend closer to be able to hear, "Did Edward send me a message?"

The end of my nose burns and my throat constricts as I swallow slowly. It's not as if I need a reminder of how special the relationship between Edward and Peyton really is, but hearing the hope and the blatant love in her voice for him only serves to reinforce what I already know. I turn my head to the side and blink a few times, hoping to keep the tears I feel in the corners of my eyes from falling. I glance at Xavier and remember our conversation from this morning and I can hear, again, the hurt in his voice that Seth is still holding back from fully committing to him, all because he's scared.

I'm tired of being scared.

Telling Edward about Evan isn't going to be easy. In fact it will be the hardest thing I've ever done, but I can't help but feel a little disappointed in myself, too. What Edward told me wasn't easy for him, but he did it. He'd planned on doing it for a while. I know there were plenty of times over the past few weeks he was ready to talk; I just wasn't ready to listen because that meant me talking about Evan in return.

He's already let me know that he wants me and Peyton in his life. He's made that plain to see. He might have things he needs to work on, demons he needs to face, but he's willing to do what he needs to so that we can be together … he's just waiting on me to do the same.

I'm ready.

Smiling, I hand her the phone and let her pull up his message and laugh lightly when she types something right back to him in response. I have no idea when he'll get it; I'm shocked he was able to send a message this morning in the first place. The only thing I can figure is Dad and the guys got a late start for some reason and he sent it before they headed out. I worry for a moment about Emmett and say a silent prayer that he doesn't do anything stupid as far as Edward is concerned. It will be the first time he's seen Edward since finding out about him being in prison, and on top of that, he doesn't know the whole story so jumping in Edward's face about it will only make things worse on everyone.

We get to the restaurant just as she's finishing sending her text. I let out a low groan when I see Rose wearing out the pavement in front of the back door. I expected nothing less; in fact I'm more than a little surprised I didn't receive a visit from her or my jackass of a brother yesterday. From the look on her face, I can tell Emmett's told her what he found out and she's none too happy.

Shit.

I mentally try to brace myself for the tongue-lashing she's been itching to give me, judging from the way her eyes narrow once Xavier parks the truck. I immediately bristle though, because for one I'm more than sure Emmett didn't tell her everything because he doesn't even know it all and two, it's really none of her damn business anyway. Peyton races past me, excited to see her grandma because it's been a few days. Friday night I had called her friend, Lucy's, mom and asked for a favor so that Peyton could go over there and spend the night. I knew I wasn't in any shape to have to entertain her all evening, not when I was barely holding it together.

Xavier takes his time walking past, the damn gossip monger, but when I shoot him a look, he twists his mouth and shakes his head, following Peyton inside.

I'm defensive right off the bat. The judgment and preconceived ideas are already shooting off her like static electricity and it's pissed me off before she even utters one word. I cross my arms over my chest and stare at her, eyebrows raised, shoulders straight, and mouth in a tight, thin line.

"What?" I snap, surprising her with the bite of my tone.

She presses her lips together and narrows her eyes at me. "Easy, tiger. I just wanted to make sure you're okay. Emmett, well … he told me about Edward. I'm sorry, Bell."

Oh, now, that just … I grit my teeth.

"For what exactly?" I manage to ask, though I have to force the words out.

She looks at me with a mixture of pity and confusion and I curl my hands into tight fists, my fingernails gouging into my skin. "Well, you obviously can't be around him anymore or let Peyton spend time with him. I know you really liked him, both of you. It's just such a shame; he really seemed like a nice guy."

I take a deep breath and remind myself that she's my sister-in-law, one of my oldest friends, and I love her. I don't like her very much right now, but she is family and it's clear Emmett only told her part of the story. I love my brother, I do, but he better be damn glad he's in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean right now, because I could seriously kill him with my bare hands.

Slowly, painfully … hopefully with plenty of begging for mercy, which I have not one iota of at the present moment in time.

How fucking dare he? I scream in my head.

After another deep breath, I'm pretty sure I can speak without losing my temper. Maybe. Even after Edward told me about being in prison and what happened to him, I didn't believe that he was a bad person. Sure, my first instinct was disbelief, and maybe, for like half a second, I wondered if I'd misjudged him, but that thought was gone faster than I had time to think it.

And for Emmett to rush home and rant to Rose when he doesn't even know everything is just wrong.

"Rose, I love you, but shut the hell up," I hiss at her, angry all over again … or still. My hands are sweating and adrenaline is pumping through my veins. I can feel my breathing getting faster and faster and I concentrate on not screaming until my throat catches on fire out of sheer frustration.

Her eyebrows disappear into her hair and her blue eyes are so big it's a wonder they don't fall clear out of her head. "I don't suppose my darling brother bothered to tell you the entire story, did he?"

"Edward's been in prison for the past seven years for attempted murder and armed robbery. It's kind of a no-brainer, Bella. You're going to send him packing aren't you?" she says like it's assumed that I will just cave and take the easy way out.

That stings.

Badly.

Especially because I can see why she would make that assumption.

Christ, I've been such a fool, but now isn't the time to visit that difficult topic.

"On the contrary, dear sister. If your dumbass husband would have stuck around instead of throwing a temper tantrum and then storming out of the house, he might have gotten the whole story. Now, he just looks like a freaking idiot." I sneer, anger pouring out of me.

She stares, looking very much like she's just swallowed a bug and says, "What are you talking about?"

So I tell her. Not quite everything, because there are details that while I haven't asked Edward, I know he'd rather keep private, or at least I'm keeping them that way until we talk. I imagine my dad knows most if not all of what I know, my mom, too, but somehow I just know we're the only ones.

By the time I'm done Rose has turned positively crimson, fire shooting out of her eyes and her mouth uttering words that would make the saltiest of fisherman blush. "Why that … " she mutters with a mixture of anger and disappointment.

Sighing, I step forward. Most of the anger and tension I felt when I walked up a few minutes ago is gone, leaving in its place a huge sense of relief. It shocks me momentarily that I feel that way, but I am relieved beyond words. After hearing most of Edward's story, Rose has come to the same conclusion I have and my parents and Carlisle and Esme have, too. Edward's a good man that deserves this second chance.

It means so much that she can see that, knowing what she does.

Now if she can just make Emmett realize how unfair he's being.

Neither of us say anything for a moment until she starts chuckling. I look at her, eyebrows quirked in question. She stares intently at me and then smiling she says, "You're not running."

I shake my head and sigh, a bit sadly I suppose, hating that she thought I would do that. I give her a shaky smile and look at her through watery eyes. "The only running I plan on doing is to Edward and not away from him," I tell her softly.

Before I know what's happening, she's wrapped me in a tight hug, and she squeezes the snot out of me. "I'm so fucking happy for you. You leave Emmett to me, Bella. By the time I'm done with him, he'll wish he was stuck on the boat for a week in the middle of football season." Her tone is evil and I almost feel sorry for my brother … almost.

I know the time is coming when he and I will need to have a heart to heart. His reaction on Friday solidified that for me. I've felt it was past time, and now I know for sure it is.

Rose kisses me on the cheek saying, "We better get in there before Alice comes and finds us."

I stop her right before we get to the door and tell her, "I hate keeping things from Ali, but until I talk to Edward, please don't tell her anything. He deserves to be able to tell everyone in his own way."

She nods. We put our aprons on and I flash Xavier a quick smile to let him know I'm okay. The breakfast rush has cleared out and we get right to work getting things ready for lunch. I look up and glance out the window, shivering when I notice the sky has gotten even darker than it was when we got here. My skin prickles and I try to shake off the uneasy feeling that has suddenly surrounded me.

As I'm filling up ketchup bottles, Rose stands next to me and whispers, "When are you going to talk to him?"

Now that she's on board the Edward train, apparently she's not wasting anytime butting her nose in, God love her.

I shrug my shoulders and lean closer to her. "I told him yesterday that we'd talk once both of us got some much-needed rest and had clearer heads."

She eyeballs me, doubt radiating out. "What?" I hiss as I try to keep my voice low. "Give me a break, Rose. I'm going to talk to him, I just don't know when."

She snorts and walks away and I glare at her back.

A crack of thunder makes me drop the bottle of ketchup and my hands shake as I bend down to pick it up. I hurry to the window, and my skin breaks out in goosebumps when I look toward the docks. The waves are crashing against the rocks, and now the wind is howling. I can hear the faint sound of the buoys as they rock back and forth in the harbor and my eyes are frantically searching the horizon for any sign of the Isabella Marie.

"He's fine, baby," Mom says softly from beside me.

I shake my head, unable to speak. I have this urgent need to see him, touch him … just hear his voice.

Sheets of rain stream down over the windows, obscuring everything outside. I hear thunder rumble again and it shakes the entire restaurant, or maybe that's just me shaking.

I turn toward the window again, frozen still as my eyes strain to see even the slightest sight of the boat.

"Bella?" Mom questions worriedly.

"I need to see him. I need to tell him. I've waited and I don't want to wait," I ramble. "Xavier and Seth, I don't want that. I … " I breathe deeply in and out.

Mom's phone rings and she picks it up and places it next to her ear. I watch, eager and anxious, my heart pounding faster with each passing second. "They're on their way in," she tells me, getting word from Aggie.

Without even thinking about it, I race to the kitchen. I grab a pair of rain boots and a raincoat from the closet in the office. Mom and Rose follow me. I have no idea what they've told Alice, but I don't have time to worry about it now.

"Mom, Peyton," I say as I struggle into the boots, not even sure what I'm asking. I'm going on pure instinct now, and every fiber of my being is screaming at me to go to Edward.

"Will be fine with me for the rest of the day. Do what you need to do for you, baby," she tells me kissing me on the forehead before leaving.

I get tangled up in the jacket in all my twisting and turning. Rose swats my hands away and gently helps me get my arms inside. She spins me around and silently ties the coat closed. When she's done, she looks at me, her eyes swimming in tears. "Go to him, Bella."

I smile.

I hug her quickly and run toward the back door, snagging an umbrella as I go. I hear Xavier mutter, "What the hell?" but I don't hear what Rose says back because I'm running.

Running toward my future.

Running toward Edward.

I get to the dock and I'm panting … and soaked because I ran all the way without opening the damn umbrella or putting the hood of my jacket on. I shake my head and squeeze some of the water out of my hair. I don't have any idea what I'm going to say to him when I see him, but I don't have time to think about it because when I look up, the boat is almost to the mooring.

I watch him, moving agilely across the deck and my chest swells with pride. He's learned so much and is trying so hard. The rain thumps against the umbrella and a gust of wind almost rips it out of my hand but I manage to hang on. My body feels electric, I'm just vibrating with so many pent-up emotions. I want to yell for him, but I don't.

I clutch the railing along the dock, my fingers digging into the wet, soft wood. Anything to keep myself in place. Finally the boat stops and I move the umbrella so I can see him. He laughs at something Jasper says and when he shakes his head, drops of water fly everywhere. When his head whips around he sees me. He freezes. He looks shocked for about two seconds and then a blinding smile appears on his face, one that not even the rain can hide.

The boat doesn't even come to a complete stop before he's jumping off and running toward me. I drop the umbrella and run to him, throwing myself into his arms as soon as he's close enough.

"Bella," he says, his voice struggling out of his mouth.

I hold his face in my hands, looking at him through rain and tears.

"I'm ready."

~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~