The Breakers Chapter 21

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Chapter 21

BPOV

"Bella!" he cries out for me, but I can't see him. "Help me!"

"Where are you?" I yell, trying with all my might to find him in the water.

"Help me, Bella. I can't hang on much longer," I hear and his voice is fading.

Waves come one right after the other and I know I only have seconds to save him.

"I can't see you! Tell me where you are!" I scream and feel my heart race when I still can't find him.

"Please, Bella! Save … !" he cries out one last time. I strain my ears, desperate for even the faintest sound but there's nothing. The silence that rings out is more deafening than the storm that rages.

All I hear is the wind screaming and the clang of the buoy as it rocks in the distance. I stand there, unmoving.

He's gone and it's all my fault.

Gasping for breath I sit up, ignoring the protest from the aching muscles in my back. Disoriented, I rub my gritty, swollen eyes. I open and close them a few times, ignoring the burn and the fact that my eyelids feel like sandpaper, and let my eyes adjust to the darkness. Sounds begin to penetrate my sleep-fogged mind … a low, constant hiss, an occasional beep, beep, the squeak of a door opening, though it's not close by. My heart rate spikes as confusion gives way to realization.

Storm.

The Isabella Marie.

The sound of someone screaming.

Water.

Edward.

Edward in the water.

I can't breathe. It feels like my chest is being squeezed in a vice, each much-needed breath more painful than the one before. I look around frantically, almost falling out of the chair before my eyes sweep over the still figure on the bed. My breathing finally evens, though it still comes out as more of a rasp than anything. I close my eyes, squeezing them so tightly starbursts of white and red explode behind my eyelids. Steeling myself as a sense of dread slinks up my back, I open them slowly, making my skin break out in painful goosebumps. I start at the end of the bed and take in the thick, heavy blankets that obscure what lies beneath. The body is so still, the only movement coming from breaths in and out. I keep going. Up then up some more over the torso until I collapse against the bed rail when I see Edward's pale, battered face.

A white bandage with spots of blood soaked through covers almost half his forehead and there are cuts along his cheekbones. His head is the only part of his body that's visible and I shudder when I imagine what the rest of his body looks like.

I swallow the sob that's trying to bubble out of my throat and slide my hand beneath the layers of blankets that are still trying to get his body temperature up. I find his hand and sigh when we're skin against skin. I curl my fingers around his hand and lay my head against the rail. A tear splashes on the linoleum beneath me, falling into a pool of white-gray light. I lift our hands and lay my lips against the back of his, blowing a warm breath across the too cold skin. I indulge for only a moment, too afraid to leech whatever warmth his body has managed to build. My eyes unwillingly find the IV tubes sucking out his blood then returning it warmed as his body struggles to regulate itself.

My mind churns as frantic thoughts try to push forth, but I stop them before they can overtake me. There is no time for them.

I stand on wobbly legs and lean over to kiss him, trying to ignore the blue tinge beneath the translucent white.

"You promised you'd come back. I need you to wake up, Edward. Please wake up," I whisper.

This time the sob does escape and I don't try to stop the tears that fall. I collapse in the chair and lay my hand over his beneath the blankets. I rest my head on the edge of the bed and begin to pray.

I won't stop until he's back where he belongs, with me and Peyton.

EPOV

Earlier in the day …

"God dammit!" I yell as a heavy, ice-coated lobster pot slides when the boat tilts and it slams into my elbow.

Again.

Jesus, I want to go home, I think as I right the pot and secure it to the others. Thank God it's the last one, at least the last overnight trip of the season. I don't think I'd survive another one, and I'm pretty fucking sure Bella won't. I know this trip isn't normal in that we've been gone so long and went so far out. We left Corea first thing Monday morning and traveled for over a day and from there we spent three days dropping lobster pots on the course Charlie had set. Once they had time to soak, we turned around to head back to port. The work has been ceaseless. If we weren't dropping pots, we were getting them ready to drop and filling the bait bag. It's been a monotonous, miserable week, for sure. The hardest I've ever spent.

I wince as I heave a coil of rope inside the pot and then slip and slide my way across the deck to help Emmett get the rest of the pots up.

"Fuck, I'm tired," I whine to Emmett as he hits the lever to bring up another lobster pot.

We've been out on the water for over a week now and I am ready to get back to Corea … and to my girls.

I've promised Peyton I'll watch the football game with her she is going to save on the DVR and well, what I want to do to Bella after not seeing her, touching her, kissing her for more than seven days should be pretty damn self-explanatory. The two of them are my life now, my family … my whole world. I never expected to find them, I damn sure know I don't deserve them, but there is no way I am giving them up now. I've promised myself, but more importantly I've promised the two of them that I will work, every fucking day, to make sure I am worthy of them because they deserve nothing less than my very best.

The muscles in my arms ache from the biting cold that seeps into my bones and the wind that rages around us lashes my skin like a whip. I can barely feel my fingers, even though they're covered with the bulky work gloves I have to wear when we're out on the water. My legs and back feel like they are on fire and it's all I can do to stay upright.

I'm so fucking tired.

We've been pulling the traps up for almost twenty-four hours straight now, trying to get the lobsters in the live tank and the traps stowed on the boat before the storm overwhelms us.

The Isabella Marierocks and lurches as a gust of wind swirls around the boat and my legs protest painfully as I try to keep myself from falling on my ass.

"Come on, boys! Get those damn traps up. The storm is breathing down our fucking necks!" Charlie barks from the wheelhouse.

"Damn, I hate this shit." Emmett grunts as we reel in the next trap.

Another gust of wind whips through the air and this time when the boat violently pitches to the left, a wave of water surges up over the side. I let go of the gaff so that I can hang on, losing my balance in the process. It takes me a moment to right myself and I can tell I'm going to have a hell of a bruise on my thigh from being slammed against the side of the boat. I briefly think of how good it will feel when Bella's warm, soft fingertips will trace over it, like she does to every bruise and ache each time we come in.

I let myself smile for a fraction of a second then my stomach clenches so tightly it hurts. Immediately I remember how she was the night before we pulled out … frantic, almost inconsolable. She'd been positive something bad is going to happen during this trip out and no matter how much I tried to convince her otherwise, she just wouldn't listen. In the blink of an eye she went from sweet and playful to irrational and petrified. I know every time I go out it reminds her of Evan but I have a job to do. I've made a commitment to Charlie, Wayne, and Carlisle, and I can't let them down. Charlie needed us to go out this one last time and because of that, I felt like I had to say yes.

Leaving, even if it's only for a short time, is always hard, but this time has just been plain brutal. Bella is always so calm and rational, but something about this trip out hasn't set with her well … at all … and hasn't from the get-go. When another clap of thunder rings out overhead and another gust of wind stings my face like hundreds of tiny needles, I think she's probably right.

"Let's go, fellas. We only have three more trawls to get up," Jasper tells us and I grunt in response.

Emmett is working the hauler and it creaks and squeaks from the pressure of pulling the traps up through the crashing waves and the fierce wind.

Motherfucker, I'm cold.

Waves continue to batter the hull and creep over the side and the spray from the waves that buffet the boat is freezing almost as fast as it hits the deck.

And we're doing it; we've almost got this bastard of a storm beat when I let my guard down like a damn greenhorn. It only takes a moment; just one flickering loss of concentration and a life can change in the blink of an eye. My life.

A vision of my body curled around Bella's as we lie on the couch in front of the fireplace while Peyton watches TV from the floor flits through my mind and … I never see it coming.

"Edward, watch out!" Emmett yells and I don't even have time to react.

One moment I'm standing on the deck of the boat and the next … I'm in the dark: sinking, frozen in the middle of the icy North Atlantic.

As I struggle to breathe, I realize I'm going to break my promise to both Bella and Peyton … my girls … because there is no way in hell I'm going to make it home to them. The water is so cold. It's like nothing I have ever felt before, nothing I could have even imagined.

Bella ...

Peyton ...

I try to focus on them but I can't.

Fuck … Bella was right to be worried,I think through a haze of numbing pain.

Because … then … my world turns black.

Jasper POV

"Edward! Holy fuck, Jasper! Dad!" I hear Emmett scream. "Man overboard!"

I look up, stunned. Time does this freaky stand still thing, only a breath in and out, until everything suddenly moves again, only this time, it's like they're in fast forward. Emmett's waving his arms frantically and I realize … Edward's not standing beside him.

Instinct takes over and pure adrenaline spurs me into motion. I try not to think of the fact that it's Edward in the middle of the icy Atlantic and I grab the life preserver off the hook. My eyes search frantically for any sign of him. The wind howls, the rain like tiny needles against my face as I look from left to right.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Do you see him, Jasper?" Emmett pleads. I can't even look at him because if I do, I'll lose it. Emmett races back and forth, leaning over the side almost to the point I worry we'll have two men in the water if he's not careful.

"Emmett, what the hell happened?" Charlie's voice booms through the speaker as he looks from the wheelhouse.

I can feel the boat turn as Charlie begins to come about. I scan the water, the white-capped waves making it almost impossible to see anything. I glance down at my watch and note the time out loud to Emmett.

"It's four twenty-three. He's been in the water about a minute," I say, and his eyes widen with fear and realization.

We only have a few minutes to find him before it won't matter whether we do or we don't … he'll be dead anyway.

We crest a wave and I spy a flash of neon orange that disappears but then bobs back up to the surface.

"There! He's over there, about forty feet. Ten o'clock," I yell and turn to look at Charlie making sure he knows which direction to go.

"Oh, God." Emmett groans. "Not again, we can't go through this again. Bella won't fucking survive it."

My jaw flexes and every muscle in my body locks down. I don't move my head to look at him; my eyes stay riveted to the speck of orange floating on top of the swirling, gray water. "Shut the fuck up, Em!" I hiss at him and ready the preserver to throw.

Never, ever in all my life have I been so thankful that I grew up in Texas. Of course plucking Edward out of the middle of the ocean is a bit different from roping a calf … and a hell of a lot more important.

A gust of wind knocks me off balance and a crack of thunder rings out. Rain still falls from the smoke gray sky, so heavy it's like it comes down in sheets instead of drops. I can hear Emmett beside me saying something, but between the wind, the rain, and the waves that batter the boat, I can't make out what he's saying. From the look on his face, it's probably better that I don't.

I train my eyes back toward the sea, bouncing on my feet. Nervous energy is pumping through my veins and I'm ready for action. Edward's life is at stake. There isn't any time for indecision … or for a mistake. One wrong move and we could lose him forever.

"Oh, Christ." Emmett moans loudly and immediately I tense.

"Get ready. We've got to get him on the fucking boat." His mouth is set in a grim line and his eyes flash with determination. "We're getting him on the damned boat, Jas."

I nod and steel myself by planting my feet, or as best as I am able to on the ice-covered deck.

BPOV

Meanwhile, back in Corea the night before …

"Baby, what are you doing down here?"

I hear Mom's footsteps behind me as she enters the sunroom, but I can't take my eyes off the window. Safely ensconced inside as the wind howls outside, as the heavy clouds get more threatening by the second, seems so inherently wrong because I know Edward is out there, somewhere. The weather reports have gotten steadily worse throughout the day. I've tried to stay calm, I've tried to focus on the fact that my dad has been through savage winter storms before ... I've tried not to think about my nightmares and the fact that I can't bear to lose someone else.

I've prayed.

I've worried.

I've thought about anything but Edward on that boat.

I knew sleep would be a lost cause so instead, I came downstairs where I can hear the scanner. Of course, I hope it stays silent all night, but it makes me feel closer to him somehow to be so near. I clutch my cell phone in my hand, holding it so tightly it's a wonder the sweat from my palm doesn't keep it from slipping and falling to the floor.

"Bella?" Mom asks as she settles into the opposite corner of the loveseat.

I shrug my shoulders, figuring she doesn't really need an answer, but I give her one anyway. "I can't sleep. Plus, I want to be close to the scanner … just in case."

She sighs and then scoots over to throw an arm over my shoulder. "You're going to give yourself an ulcer if you keep this up, Bella." She kisses the side of my head and I know there's more she wants to say, but thankfully she doesn't.

"I can't help it, Mom. I know, I know." I hold my hand up and stop the next words out of her mouth. "I know this is his job and I know it's something I have to learn to live with. This just feels different is all, and I don't know why. Even before they left on Monday I had a bad feeling about this trip and now with the forecast and the storm heading this way, I just can't shake the feeling something terrible is going to happen."

Her arm squeezes me tighter though she doesn't speak. What can she say? She knows as well as everyone else that up until this trip, though I've worried, I've not been afraid. This time, from the moment Edward told me they were going out, I've had a bad feeling. One that has settled deep into my bones and won't let go. No amount of assurances from Edward or my dad, or my mom or Xavier has been able to convince me otherwise and sitting here, huddled in the corner of the couch, the feeling is still there. Until he walks in the door tomorrow night, I know I won't breathe easy.

Mom sits with me a few minutes longer, until she says, "I'm going up to bed. Try to get some rest." She kisses my forehead and slips out of the room as quietly as she entered.

I lay my head on the arm of the loveseat and think about the weekend he left. We'd spent the Sunday before picking out a Christmas tree … an outing that took way longer than it should have in all honesty. Edward wanted it to be perfect; it had to look just so, and nothing else would do. No missing branches, no uneven ones either, and it had to be perfectly proportioned. It was as sweet as it had been infuriating, watching him walk up and down the rows of trees dismissing tree after tree until he found the one he wanted.

Getting it home and into the house was a different thing altogether, but I loved every minute of it. Watching him walk with Peyton sitting on his back as they looked for the tree, giggling about having a better tree than Em and Rose, and arguing over multicolored versus white lights tugged at my heartstrings something fierce.

It was the first Christmas in more than seven years where he could give into the spirit of the season and I planned on making it one to remember. We decorated the tree and the house, inside and out, and the day was wonderful from start to finish, especially when Peyton gave him the ornament we'd bought specifically for him during a sneak trip to Ellsworth one night when he was watching football with the guys. That was nothing compared to the look on his face when he saw the stockings on the mantle and there was one with his name embroidered on it hanging alongside mine and Peyton's.

Yes, things were blissful until it was time for him to tell Peyton goodnight, then … I lost it.

"How come you have to be gone for a whole week this time?" Peyton asks as Edward tucks her into bed. He sits on the edge of the bed next to her and leans on his arm so he can bend his head close to her.

"Because it's my job, Sprite. Pop says we need to go, so we go. I'll be back before you know it," he tries to placate her but Peyton's just as nervous as I am about this trip it seems because she frowns and shakes her head stubbornly at him.

She stares at him, deep and penetratingly, without moving. Her arms are crossed over her chest and it's taking all I have not to mirror her actions knowing that he couldn't possibly resist the both of us. "I don't want you to go for that long," she whines.

"I'll miss you and your mom, too, P, but I have to go. You know I do," he tells her gently and runs his fingers through her hair before he brushes a sweet kiss across her forehead. "You guys will be busy making cookies for your Christmas party at school anyway. Besides," he smirks when he looks from her to me and tries to keep the mood light, "you can go get my Christmas present and wrap it since I won't be here to see."

I try to smile back at him, but I know I fail when his eyes narrow and he sighs. It does help Peyton though, to hear him laugh, and thankfully she can't tell that he's only doing it for her benefit. I turn and rush out of the room when she sighs at him and says, "Fine. Okay, hold out your hand so I can give you your good luck charm for this trip."

He finds me a few minutes later standing in the living room staring out the window beside the Christmas tree. The lights are reflected in the window panes and the light snow from the night before still covers the ground. There's a fire in the fireplace. The house is warm … peaceful and filled with the scent of fresh pine and cinnamon. The whole thing would be straight out of a sappy Christmas movie if it wasn't for the fact he's getting on a boat in the morning and about to be in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean for a week.

"You didn't wait for me," he says softly as he steps behind me. His arms slide around my waist and he pulls me back to lean against his chest. He's solid in all the right places and in just a t-shirt and a pair of sleep pants, deliciously warm and inviting, but I can't even enjoy the way it feels to be in his arms.

I do lean my head back though and rest it on his shoulder. I can feel his heart beat in a steady rhythm against my back and whereas that usually soothes me, tonight it just seems to reinforce the fact that it will be a week before I can feel it again. I shiver at the thought.

"Hey, what is going on with you?" he asks and turns me around to look at him.

I hang my head and try to decide if I tell him the truth or if I pretend like this trip isn't killing me.

He reaches out when I take too long to answer and lifts my chin. "Talk to me, Bella. What's wrong?"

The worry and confusion in his eyes is enough to make me hesitate, which only makes him groan in frustration.

"Bella," he beseeches.

"I don't want you to go," I finally admit and with that the dam breaks. "I have the worst feeling, Edward. Something is going to happen to you, I know it. I don't know what, or when, but as sure as I'm standing here, I know it. Don't go. Tell Dad you're sick or something. I don't care, just don't get on that boat tomorrow!" I cry out to him.

I know I'm being unfair. I know what I'm asking is impossible, but I ask it anyway.

"Baby, stop," he tries to soothe me and wraps his arms tightly around me. "I'm going to be fine." He kisses the top of my head over and over again and splays both hands, covering my entire back and making me feel as safe as only he can.

We stand that way for a few minutes until he loosens his grip and then slides his hands up along my arms until he holds my head in his very strong but so gentle hands. He kisses me. His lips are soft, needy and his tongue makes deliberate, sweeping motions along my own. His thumbs brush across my cheekbones and my body melts against his.

My fingers twist in his t-shirt, holding him so tightly. If I could, I'd hold him that way always. The feeling of dread is still there, but I know I have to deal with it. I know he's leaving in the morning, regardless of what I say, and for both our sakes I have to be strong. Even knowing that, I beg for the one thing I've never asked before and the one thing I know he shouldn't promise, but will because I've asked.

"Promise me you'll come back, Edward," I whisper as I look into his eyes.

He doesn't hesitate. "I promise."

We both know the words aren't his to give, but I take a small measure of comfort in hearing them anyway. Until he returns safely, they'll be all I have to hang onto.

I wake up disoriented, sore, and feeling like I didn't really sleep at all. I'm still in the sunroom on the loveseat, I have a crick in my neck from keeping it at such an odd angle for so long, and I'm not sure my fingers will be of use ever again because they are still wrapped around my cell phone. Blinking a few times to try to get my eyes to focus, I gaze out the windows. The sky is gunmetal gray, ominous-looking, and the wind seems to have picked up since I last looked. It's very early in the morning. The only reason I know this is because my mom isn't up yet. For as long as I can remember, she's been awake long before the sun comes up so she can see my dad off, and even when he's not home, her internal clock doesn't let her sleep in … ever.

Gingerly, I stretch my legs out, pointing then flexing my feet. My muscles scream in protest, but after doing it a few times and rolling my head around to try to loosen the knots in my shoulders, I stand up. The feeling of dread I had the night before has seeped deep into my bones which makes even standing feel like an exercise in futility. I take a few steps forward and let my fingertips ghost across the frosty window panes and stare out into the murky horizon.

"Please keep him safe," I whisper before turning to go to the kitchen to start the coffee.

It's going to be a long, long day until I can see for myself that he's okay.

By the time I drop an uncharacteristically subdued Peyton off at school and make it to The Breakers, I feel as though I've just trudged through miles and miles of quicksand. My muscles ache, my heart hurts, and it seriously feels like I can't breathe. If I wasn't so convinced that something was off, I would have no qualms about kicking my own ass for acting like a drama queen, but I can't shake the feeling of unease that keeps spreading through my body. I glance around the parking lot as I climb out of Cherry and the knot inside my chest grows.

There are way more cars here than there normally would be at this time of the morning. That can only mean one thing. Hurrying, I push through the back door, flinging it open and race through the kitchen without acknowledging Xavier, Rose, or Alice.

"Any word?" I ask my mom without preamble, not caring about small talk in the slightest.

I try not to look anywhere but at her. I know Xavier is hovering; I can feel it. I know I should look at Ali and Rose who have every right to be as anxious as I am, but I can't … not yet.

She shakes her head and the slight slump of her shoulders and the pinch at the corner of her eyes tells me all I need to know. She's worried which makes my anxiety skyrocket.

"Oh, Jesus. I can't do this, I can't," I whisper to no one, but unable to keep the words from slipping. I wrap my arms around my waist and squeeze my eyes shut, rocking back and forth.

Strong arms, though not the ones I want, engulf me and without opening my eyes, I know it's Xavier.

"He'll be fine, Bell. They all will. Your dad will get the boat back here ahead of the storm and everything will be just fine. Stay strong now, you'll see." He kisses the side of my head and rubs what he hopes are reassuring circles on my back.

I don't have the heart to tell him it's not helping.

I do try to give him a semblance of a smile before slipping out of his embrace. I want to follow my mom who has fled the kitchen and is trying to act like nothing is wrong by mingling with the others waiting for word just like we are, but I stop and throw my arms around Rose and Alice first. No one speaks; words are only superfluous at this point. When I can't take anymore, I go to my mom.

There are so many people in the restaurant and it shocks me for a moment, even though I knew to expect it from the cars outside. Wives and girlfriends, old-timers, and those who don't work on the water but are affected by those that do, wait, together, for word. The TV that hangs in the corner is on full blast, and everyone's eyes are glued to the map that shows the worst storm in years heading straight for Corea, with every boat still out on the water in its path.

The Isabella Marie isn't the only boat that hasn't made it back to port yet, but it's the one that's the farthest away and in the most danger. I pray Dad heeded the weather warnings as they came in last night and began heading for home sooner rather than later. Edward and the guys will be exhausted. The rush to get home means pushing themselves harder than ever to squeeze in what should be a full day's work into as few hours as possible.

I vow right then and there to pamper Edward for days with massages, warm baths, making all his favorite foods, and even promising myself to watch however many episodes of The Big Bang theory that he wants to watch, no matter how many times we've already watched them.

But first, he has to come home.

I try to stay busy, refilling coffee cups and making sure everyone is comfortable, or as comfortable as they can be in this situation. The morning passes with no word, good or bad, until the front door to the restaurant bursts open and Eric runs in yelling, "The Wind Dancer just pulled in."

My body sags and at once I'm half disgusted with myself, and half relieved when I pat Nicole on the shoulder. "I'm so happy Grant is home," I tell her honestly, knowing at least Lucy's dad is safe.

"I'm sure Edward won't be too far behind, Bella." She hugs me as she stands up. Her mind is already out the door, not that I blame her a bit. I watch her and the wives of the other men on the Wind Dancer get up, hating that I wish it was me and not them.

I look at Mom, then at Rose and Alice, and I can tell they feel the same way. It's probably one of the hardest things about living where we do and loving men that spend the majority of their lives on the water. That dichotomy of being happy when others' loved ones come home, but that gnawing, aching feeling when yours don't.

"Mom, call Aggie, please," I beg a short while later. The rain isn't even coming down in sheets anymore; now it's one steady deluge with no break in sight. The thunder continues to rumble overhead and the wind howls right along side. By the second, the storm gets worse and worse and just looking around the restaurant at the sea of faces, most of whom have been through this time and again, lets me know that this is no ordinary storm.

Alice moves forward and curls her hand around my arm, gripping so tightly I'm sure there will be a bruise. Rose stands on my other side, and her anxiety is palpable. Like my mom, she will keep her nervousness buried behind a wall of calm that will only show a crack when Emmett returns safely. I've seen this same scenario play out many times in the past but never, ever have I felt this oppressive weight that feels like my chest is slowly, painfully crushing me with every breath I take.

"Bella, Aggie will let us know as soon as she hears anything," Mom says slowly, as if by saying the words carefully makes them easier to hear.

I stare at her, knowing that she's right, but wanting so much for her to call anyway. When she holds my gaze long enough for it to feel uncomfortable, I pat Alice on the hand and then pull her hand off my arm. She needs comforting every bit as much as I do, but I know if I open my mouth to her all the emotion I'm holding inside is going to come spewing out in a torrent of tears and words, so to keep that from happening, I walk toward the windows.

Watching the storm does nothing to ease my mind, but at least standing by myself keeps me from falling apart in front of everyone else. I'm trying so hard to be strong, to make Edward proud of me for keeping it together and not letting my fear make me an irrational shrew … he had enough of that before he left. So I stand and pray and tell myself over and over again he'll be just fine and will be back soon. I twist one hand around the other, just trying to release some of the pent-up nervous energy thrumming inside of me and when I wrap my fingers around my wrist, I look down and frown. For a moment, I'm so angry because Peyton has something to always remind her of Edward, something she has no matter where she is and I'm ridiculously jealous of my own daughter. It's just a flash, but it shakes me enough that I have to force myself to take a few deep breaths.

I try to think about having hot chocolate in front of the fireplace sitting next to him while Peyton does her homework. I think about wrapping presents with him late at night after Peyton's gone to sleep, laughing about the fact that we have to double and triple wrap things and camouflage them inside of different-shaped boxes and containers because she guesses everything and spoils the surprise. I even feel myself smile a tiny bit when I think about how his face lights up at the prospect of building a snowman when we get the first significant snowfall.

It works … for a while at least, until Mom's cell phone rings.

"Oh, God, please," I whisper as I weave between the tables to get to her.

I watch her and every breath that leaves my body is a whoosh of air when I see her face turn white and the phone falls from her hand and skitters across the floor.

Mom looks at me and says, "They've lost contact with the Isabella Marie."

Jasper POV

"Em, he's right there! Get the gaff ready! Charlie, get us closer!" This is the first time I've had to use all that I learned from the countless explanations and demonstrations both Charlie and Emmett have drilled me on over the years. After what happened to Evan, there wasn't any way anyone was ever stepping foot on the Isabella Mariethat didn't know how to perform a water rescue.

He's been in the water for five minutes. We don't have much longer before it's going to be too late and it can't be too late. I refuse to let myself think about that. I have to concentrate on getting him out of the water. We have to get him out.

Charlie is yelling over the speaker that he can see Edward and I never take my eyes off of him. I can't lose him in the waves. Emmett's standing beside me with the gaff and we're only going to have one chance to snag Edward and get him on this boat … alive.

I can see Edward. He's not moving; he doesn't even lift his head to acknowledge our approach or our voices. I don't think he's actually aware of anything, but I have to hope he's aware enough to grab the life preserver. I send up a quick prayer and get ready to throw.

"Get ready, Em! This is it!" I yell above the crashing of the waves. With all that I have in me, I throw the life preserver and luckily it lands directly on Edward.

"Edward, grab the ring! Edward! You have to grab the ring!" He isn't moving other than with the rise and fall of the waves.

Suddenly I hear Charlie's voice loud and clear as it explodes over the loudspeaker. "Edward Masen, you grab that fucking ring right now! Don't you dare leave Bella and Peyton! You promised you would be okay. They need you and you need them. Grab that fucking ring right this second!"

I'm not sure anyone will ever know what gave him the strength to do it, but slowly he puts his arm through the ring. As soon as I can tell he'll be able to hang on, I start pulling him closer so Em can hook Edward with the gaff. I know it's going to take both of us to pull him on board and with the boat lurching from side to side, we're going to have to time it just right. I pull Edward until he's within reach of the gaff and Emmett hooks him just like he has done a multitude of times with a lobster pot. I drop the rope and grab another part of the gaff to help Emmett pull Edward up.

With all that we have, we both pull as Charlie hollers over the speaker for us to get him up before the next big wave hits us. We both see it coming. What I don't realize at the time is that it will be our saving grace. The wave brings Edward's body up high enough that we can grab his arms.

"Don't let go, Jasper! Don't let go of him!" Emmett yells. As soon as the boat rocks, we pull Edward over the railing of the boat and finally have him on deck. At least he's out of the water.

"We have to get him below deck and get him out of these clothes!" I tell Em as we both grab him and drag him across the deck.

"Fuck! The radio is out! I set off the EPIRB! The Coast Guard should be on its way! Get him warm!" Charlie tells us.

Emmett and I hurriedly get Edward's wet clothes off of him and wrap him in all the blankets we have on hand.

"Edward! Wake up, man! Come on! You need to wake up." Emmett shakes him and tries to get him to respond. His lips are blue and he isn't shivering. This isn't a good sign.

"Shit, man, he's bleeding," I exclaim when I spy a gash across Edward's forehead. I grab the first aid kit and press some gauze to the cut. He's so cold, his body temperature is so low that the blood is little more than a trickle. Normally head wounds bleed like fucking crazy and seeing the blood ooze instead of spew is just one more indication of how serious the situation is. While I tend to the head wound, Emmett covers Edward's hands and feet with socks and gloves to try to stave off any chance of frostbite. I'm not sure it will work, but we have to try.

Emmett groans when he pressed his fingers to the inside of Edward's wrist to check his pulse. "It's low, man, too fucking low." Emmett's voice is barely more than a whisper and he hangs his head.

"We are not losing him, Emmett," I tell him and don't try in the least to temper my voice. "We just have to get him to hang on until the helicopter gets here." I feel so fucking useless, rubbing my hands up and down Edward's arms and legs, but there's nothing else I can do.

He's as still as a board, which is the worst possible thing and between that, the fact the head wound isn't bleeding like it should and his low pulse, every minute it takes for the helicopter to get here is a minute too long. His breathing is shallow, his eyes are unresponsive and I know that for as long as I live, I'll never be able to forget how he looks.

"Emmett, Jasper, how is he?" Charlie calls down to us.

I look at Emmett and say, "Go. Tell him everything and see if there's any indication of how far out the chopper is. He doesn't have long, Em, before he goes into shock. If that happens here, there isn't anything we can do for him."

"Hang in there, Edward. You mean too much to too many people to give up. Fight, damn it. I know you can hear me. Don't you give up," I hiss at him. I close my eyes and pray. I haven't prayed since I was a little kid hiding in my closet so my father wouldn't find me, but for Edward, I'll say a whole rosary if I have to.

I listen as Edward's breathing becomes more labored and he's turned from blue to white. I furiously rub everywhere I can reach, ignoring the fact he's naked beneath the layers of blankets. The storm is right on top of us now, not caring a damn a bit that Edward is hanging on by a thread.

I don't have any idea how long I stay below with Edward and I can only hope that the reason Emmett is still with Charlie is because they are getting ready for the chopper to approach. Finally, what seems like an eternity later, I hear Emmett yell down to me, "They're coming," before he clambers down the few stairs below deck. We hurriedly throw some sweats and a sweatshirt on him and he's every bit as limp as was when we pulled him out of the water.

"Wrap him tight, Em," I tell him, as I put another pair of socks on his feet.

We get ready to pick him up when I spy something on the ground by his leg.

"Aw, hell, Emmett." I point with a shaky hand and then pick up the item off the floor. "It's P's shell. He must've had it in his pocket."

Out of everything that has happened over the past however many minutes, seeing that shell hits Emmett and me harder than anything.

Gently, almost tenderly, Emmett takes the shell from me and tucks it in his pocket. He leans over and kisses Edward on the side of the head and whispers, not even checking to see if I can hear and not caring that there are tears streaming down his cheeks. "I'm going to hang on to this for you, brother, so that when you wake up in the hospital, because you will wake up, I can give it back to you."

I give him a moment to look at Edward before I urge him to help me get him up to the deck. I can hear the helicopter as we step onto the deck and already the line is being lowered. Once they're close enough, the line falls to the deck and a medic repels down the line.

"What's the situation?" the guy asks as he looks around quickly.

We give him the basic information and he relays it to the chopper so they can send down the rescue stretcher. Laying Edward into the basket is probably the hardest thing I've ever done in my life and from the way Emmett hangs on to the side a few beats longer than necessary tells me he feels the same way. We watch as Edward is lifted through the screaming wind and the driving rain, each silently praying that nothing happens for the few minutes he's suspended in the air, epitomizing the phrase hanging by a thread. Letting him go and trusting someone else to keep him safe and alive, even though it's what the Coast Guard is trained to do goes against every protective instinct I have.

I let out a tension-relieving breath once he's inside and I see Emmett do the same. We watch them fly off toward Bar Harbor, and continue to do so until the chopper disappears, leaving us both in a sort of stunned state.

It still hasn't fully hit me yet what's just happened, and when Charlie tells us to move our asses and get the rest of the trawl lines up so we can head back to shore, I know it will be longer still.

BPOV

Silence, interrupted periodically with bouts of static sets every nerve on its end.

I can't feel my fingers because one hand is squeezing Xavier's hand with every ounce of strength I have and the other is having the same done to it by Alice.

"Approaching the Isabella Marie," sounds from the scanner and there is a collective gasp from all of us huddled around it.

No one speaks as we wait for more information. "The crew is on the deck. Preparing to lower a rescuer to assess the situation. Stand by."

The wait is excruciating. I feel like I'm about to come out of my skin and then we hear, "Boat not incapacitated, but there is an injury on board. Sending rescue stretcher. Prepare for further information."

"Oh, God," my mom utters and our eyes meet.

Dad, Jasper, Emmett, or Edward. Who is it? There's not a sound made, save for our breathing and the quiet prayers each of us begin to say. It doesn't matter who it is that's injured, we'll all be affected.

After what seems like an interminable wait, the staticy voice speaks again. "We have a male on board, mid to late twenties. Patient knocked overboard and spent approximately seven minutes in the water." At this, my heart stops, as I'm sure everyone else's does as well.

The detached voice continues relaying more devastating but pertinent information. "Patient showing signs of severe hypothermia. Male is unconscious, breathing is shallow. Pulse slow and body temperature is eighty-six degrees. Glucose IV started. Patient has head wound but the bleeding is controlled."

I close my eyes and futilely try to stem the flow of tears. A brief look around the table lets me know the others are losing the same battle.

"En route to Mt. Desert Island Hospital, approximately thirty minutes out."

Immediately, I begin to make arrangements in my head for Peyton and calculate how long it will take to get to Bar Harbor. With the storm raging outside, the hour-long trip is liable to take longer than that.

There's a loud sound as the radio is engaged once again and we hear, "Patient is one Edward Masen."

My stomach retches and if I wasn't being held between Xavier and Alice, there's no way I'd still be upright.

Seconds pass then pandemonium erupts. I look at Mom and all she says is, "Go."

Before I even know what's happening, I'm buckled in the front seat of Xavier's truck and we're speeding out of the parking lot with Seth and Alice in the backseat. I don't even remember Seth being at The Breakers.

"Bell?" Xav asks as he grips my hand in his.

I stare out the window, my mind and body in a total state of lock-down. "Mmmm mmm." I shake my head without turning to look at him.

I can't.

"We're here. We're all here," he tells me. I feel Alice lean forward and lay her hand on top of ours, but still I remain silent. I know she's hurting, she adores Edward so much, but I have no comfort to offer her. I feel Seth reach out and rub my shoulder, and a brief sense of déjà vu washes over me and sends my mind racing back to Evan.

No, no, no! I scream silently in my mind. I will not lose Edward. I can't. He promised. He promised me and he promised Peyton he would be okay, that he would come home. I will not lose anyone else.

It's the mantra I repeat the entire agonizing trip. When we pass the Bar Harbor city limit sign, my heart slams in my chest and I break out into a cold sweat. I want to cry, Lord help me I want to cry, but I don't give in. I will keep it together and be strong because it's what Edward would want me to do and it's what he needs.

"Hurry, Xav," I whisper thickly, forcing the words out of my painfully dry, tight throat.

"We're almost there, honey. Just a few more minutes," he tells me. His voice wavers, and I can tell he's trying to be strong for me.

I finally turn around slightly in my seat and look at Alice who gives me a watery smile. Her cheeks are tear-stained, I can tell as we pass under a street lamp.

"He's going to be okay, Bella. He loves you and Peyton too much not to be," she tells me in a fierce, sure voice. Her faith moves me and it gives me strength.

"You're right, Ali. He does."

Xavier lets the three of us out in front of the hospital, barely stopping before he goes to find a parking space. We race to the front desk to ask about Edward and are told he's been taken to ICU. My heart stops and my stomach drops … again, and I wonder how much more I can take. As we go up to the third floor, I tell myself to be strong.

We walk, me between the two of them, and stop at the desk to find out where Edward is.

"Edward Masen," Seth says. "He was brought in by helicopter less than an hour ago."

Xavier steps in behind us and the four of us look at the nurse, waiting for an answer. "Are you family?" she asks as her eyes widen when she looks at Xavier.

"We are," Alice answers with no hesitation whatsoever, but offers no additional explanation.

The nurse looks warily at us but then points to a waiting area. "If you'll have a seat, I'll let the doctor know Mr. Masen's family is here."

I'm frantic with worry so I pace.

And pace.

And pace some more.

"Bell, you're going to drive yourself and the rest of us crazy if you don't sit," Seth tells me.

I grunt at him, and continue pacing. I can't sit still, not when he's right down the hall. Until I see with my own two eyes that he's all right, I won't relax. I chew on my thumbnail, then alternate with my bottom lip.

"Where's Mom and Dad? They should be here by now," I mutter to no one in particular.

"We've only been here twenty minutes, Bella. The boat's not even back yet," Alice says slowly. I look at her then have to turn away when I see the pity in her eyes.

I can't see that, not yet. I'm barely hanging on as it is. I briefly think of Peyton and I have to wrap my arms around my waist to keep from falling completely apart. Oh Jesus. Just thinking of having to tell her Edward is in the hospital wrecks me.

It's blessedly only a few minutes before a doctor dressed in blue scrubs comes to the waiting room. After assuring him that we are indeed Edward's family, a point which Xavier makes quite forcefully and leaves no room for doubt, he tells us Edward's condition. Serious, but stable. Body temperature still in the danger zone but they are doing what they can to raise it. Heart rate still low, but the most serious threat of going into shock has passed. No brain damage from what they can tell since he's still unconscious. He's going to be lethargic, extremely sore, and weak when he wakes up and he has a slight concussion. All in all, he's by no means unscathed, but it could have been a lot more serious if the guys hadn't gotten him out of the water so quickly and kept him from going into shock before the helicopter arrived.

"Can I see him, please?" I beg.

My whole body aches from wanting to see him so badly. Knowing how close I came to losing him is taking its toll and I'm not sure how much longer I can fight the hysteria that wants to burst forth.

"As soon as the nurse is finished in there, you can go in, but only for a few minutes," he tells me.

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

I hear him groan and keep my eyes locked on his face. "Open your eyes, baby. Wake up. Please wake up," I say fervently and squeeze his hand in mine.

His head slowly moves back and forth and he grimaces before he slowly opens his eyes. I gasp, and try not to shout out loud that he's awake. Inch by inch, he turns his head and our eyes meet.

"I kept my promise," he rasps … and I let the tears I've held in for hours and hours, finally fall.

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

Thanksgiving Salmon

Ingredients:

Servings:

4

Units: US | Metric

• 4 salmon fillets or 4 salmon steaks
• 1/3 cup cranberry sauce
• 2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
• 1 tablespoon chop shallots or 1 tablespoon onion
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 teaspoon lemon juice
• 2 teaspoons chop parsley
• salt and pepper

Directions:

1. In a bowl combine cranberry sauce, dijon, and shallots.
2. Stir until well to combine. Set aside.
3. Lay out salmon fillets, in a greased broiling pan,in a single layer.
4. Rub salmon with olive oil, lemon juice, parsley salt and pepper.
5. Broil salmon in oven for 7 minutes. (about 8 inches from heat source).
6. Remove salmon from oven, spread with cranberry sauce mixture, over top of each fillet. Make sure layer of sauce is fairly even.
7. Place salmon back in oven and broil for another 5-7minutes. Until salmon is done and topping is bubbly.
8. Remove from oven and serve

The Breakers Chapter 20

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

Chapter 20

BPOV

"Bella, be careful going home, you hear?" Mom calls to me as Peyton and I pull our jackets on and get ready to leave The Breakers. It was a blessedly slow night, the dinner rush didn't last long at all, and now all I want to do is go home, put on a pair of sweats and one of Edward's t-shirts, and curl up on the couch with him and a glass of wine.

The whine and huff from my daughter as she fights with her raincoat tells me it's probably going to be awhile before I can have that glass of wine. With the way she's been acting lately, one glass isn't going to be enough.

"Baby, stop," I admonish and try to keep the frustration I feel from her behavior from eking out. I help her straighten out the arm of her jacket and she slides her arm inside. Instead of the sweet thank you I'd get on a normal day I get an eye roll and a half-hearted thanks.

I take a deep breath and count to five before I say something I'll regret, but there's no way she's getting away with that attitude. "Young lady," I begin in my no-nonsense voice, "you really need to watch the attitude. It's been two days and I've had enough. Understand?"

"Sorry, Mom," she mumbles, but at least it sounds sincere.

"Mom, we're going home. I'll see you in the morning," I tell her, looking up before we go out the door.

It's my turn to stay until closing, so besides my mom, Peyton and I are the last ones at the restaurant. It's always somewhat eerie to walk into the parking lot and see just Cherry and my mom's Cherokee left. Now that Edward stayed over a few nights a week, Xavier has stopped bringing me to work. He still comes to have breakfast at least once or twice a week, but things have definitely changed with the start of school.

So much had changed, really.

Looking over at my daughter and noticing the scowl still on her face, I can't help but wonder if things haven't moved too fast. I can't say that I mind, because truthfully, I'm happier than I ever could've imagined being, but that doesn't mean there aren't moments of doubt that creep up from time to time.

I don't doubt my feelings for Edward or his for me and Peyton. I know he loves us. I know he wants to be with me as much as I want to be with him, but it's hard sometimes to keep things in perspective. We haven't been together that long, and honestly, that doesn't really bother me. Time really doesn't mean much when you find the right person. I can't imagine my life without Edward in it. When I imagine Peyton moving from elementary school to middle school, he's there. When I picture my thirtieth birthday, he's by my side celebrating with everyone else. Christmases, Thanksgivings, he's always there.

I don't really even doubt that he's 'The One' or whatever that means. I want him, always. It's been a wonderful, amazing, if scary at times, last few months. The whirlwind, the ups and downs, the discoveries and the sharing of secrets, it's all been so incredible. Things have progressed so naturally but there are times when it seems too good to be true. There are also times I can't help but wonder if it's all too much and too fast. Peyton adores Edward, a feeling he obviously and very proudly more than reciprocates, but it worries me at times if we're confusing her.

He stays, he leaves. He tells us he loves us, but then there are days we see him only briefly and some not at all. As a grown woman I'm okay with that, even if I miss him when it happens, but Peyton's only seven and I know it's hard on her. She misses him and I know she misses the security and comfort she feels when he's in the house.

"Is Edward gonna come over tonight?" Peyton asks when we get on our way.

A crack of thunder and a flash of lightning make me grip the steering wheel so hard my fingers turn white and I let out a deep breath. Storms still scare the everliving shit out of me, but I don't cower in fear anymore the second the first raindrop falls from the sky … I figure I should be happy about the improvement.

I concentrate on the swish of the windshield wipers for a few seconds as I get my bearings and then answer her. "I'm not sure. I haven't gotten a text message saying one way or the other."

She huffs and crosses her arms, staring out the window as we head toward home. We manage to get into the house without getting soaked to the bone. By the time we get changed and Peyton is curled up on the couch watching TV, Edward is knocking on the door before he walks right in.

Peyton is off the couch like a shot as soon as she hears the doorknob, not even giving him a chance to get more than two steps inside the house.

"Hurry, come on, Edward," Peyton whines at him while she pulls on his hand. He stomps his feet to get the mud off his boots and I can tell just by looking at him there's something wrong.

He opens his mouth, then clamps it closed, barely giving her a smile. She doesn't notice that or notice the grimace, the one that appears then disappears so fast it's a wonder I caught it at all. She shakes his arm, wiggling it like it's a piece of limp spaghetti until he flexes the muscles in his arm and holds it still.

"Hey there," I say softly as I approach, a little wary because the tension is utterly shooting off him in every direction.

His eyes are storm cloud gray, as gray as I've ever seen them. He didn't shave this morning, nor when he got back to the boarding house either, leaving him with more scruff than I've seen in some time. He didn't spend the night here last night, and the bags beneath his eyes let me know he didn't sleep well at all. I had a PTA meeting to go to to finalize the plans for the Halloween festival at the end of the month and I knew he was going to spend some time talking to Carlisle. From the looks of him, it wasn't an easy conversation.

He looks like he wants to say something but Peyton is pulling on his arm, clamoring for his attention. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath; I can tell it's to try to relax, but from the way his jaw is clenched, it hasn't helped.

"Edward, I need help with my homework. I waited 'til you got here so you can show me how to do my math; you remember, you helped so good last week. And, after, I want to play Monopoly. Can we make popcorn, too?" She stops pulling but scoots between us and starts pulling on the jacket he hasn't even been able to take off yet.

"P, stop for a second, okay? Please? I just walked in," he tells her. She huffs and he cringes. He runs a hand through his hair and then pinches the bridge of his nose.

He's losing it … fast.

"But, Edward, I want to play Monopoly," Peyton whines again and this time she even stomps her foot at him.

I open my mouth to intervene, but I'm too late.

"I can't do this tonight," he says in a tired, defeated voice. "I'll call you later."

He walks out, slamming the door behind him. He didn't look back, he didn't say when later was, he just … left.

"Mommy?" Peyton's voice shakes. It's been ages since she's called me mommy but hearing her say it now, rattles me.

I look at her and there are tears streaming down her face. She's not sobbing, but her quiet cries break my heart more than if she'd thrown herself down on the ground and was kicking and screaming while she wailed.

I reach out for her and pull her close. I can't do anything except run my hands through her hair and kiss the top of her head. I want to tell her something, anything, but nothing I can think of to say sounds right. I mean, how do you tell a child that the person they want to see most in the world just stormed out of the house without even a second glance.

Finally, when she sniffles, I squat down and push her hair back over her ears. Her face is splotchy and her eyes are rimmed with red. I kiss her forehead and then tell her, "Don't worry, baby. He's not mad at you."

I don't know what's bothering him, but I do know that. I also know he's going to be so upset when he realizes what he's done.

She nods and then goes to the couch and curls up with a blanket. I sigh and then stand up, shaking my head. Oh, Edward, I think. I put the food I'd left out for him away and straighten up the kitchen. I frown when I spy the blackberry cobbler I brought home from the restaurant specifically for him.

I pick up my phone. My hand shakes and I squeeze my eyes closed. I'm so angry at him I could scream, but I'm also very worried about him. His behavior is so out of character for him, it scares me to think of what could have possibly caused him to act that way.

Tapping the phone, I send him a quick text telling him I hope he's okay and we love him.

I know he'll call when he calms down, and I can't help but hope he comes back here tonight.

"Mom? Do you think Edward is coming back?" Peyton asks as she sits down beside me on the front steps.

Her voice is so sad. As much as I want to tell her yes, I have a feeling the answer is no … at least not tonight. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her close, rubbing my hand up and down her arm to keep the chill of the early October air away.

I sigh.

I knew he was having a bad day; I could tell the minute he walked in the house and stomped his feet on the doormat. It's been raining, it's cold, he's tired, and Peyton has been, for lack of a better word, a complete pain for the past two days. Add a crabby seven-year-old to a twenty-seven year-old man that has no experience with kids and who's already in a bad mood and it was a disaster waiting to happen.

Not that him slamming the door and leaving is anywhere close to all right.

"I didn't mean to make him so mad," she tells me in a heartbroken voice. She lays her head on my shoulder and we both look toward the driveway as if somehow he's going to magically appear.

Her fingers rub the bracelet that never leaves her wrist. Getting her to take it off for her bath every night is next to impossible. It's her most prized possession - a fact of which she tells anyone and everyone … repeatedly.

I kiss the top of her head and enjoy the sense of comfort the smell of her coconut-lime shampoo gives me. "I know, baby, but you have to learn a no means no. What he did wasn't right, but the fact that you pushed him to the point where he lost his temper wasn't right either."

"He's not going to go away is he? I mean, he still loves me right?" Her eyes fill with tears. She sniffs and it tears my heart open.

I turn and pull her into my lap, wrapping my arms tightly around her. "Of course he does, Peyton. Edward will always love you," I tell her.

"I don't want him to be mad at me anymore." She sniffs once more.

I close my eyes and say a quick prayer that he comes back soon.

We sit outside until there are goosebumps on top of goosebumps. Getting Peyton inside isn't easy, getting her into bed even harder. I have to lay in bed with her a lot longer than normal and she fights closing her eyes with all she has. My phone is between us, her little hand holding it tight and tipping it toward her every few seconds as if just by willing it, he'll call.

"Maybe I should call him again," she says dejectedly, looking at me as if I can somehow see into the future and tell her she should.

"I think it's going to be tomorrow before you can talk to him, baby." She opens her mouth to argue with me but I shake my head. "Enough, Peyton. You have school tomorrow and it's time for bed. He'll call tomorrow. I promise."

I should feel bad for making a promise like that, but I don't. I know whatever is going on with him, he won't intentionally hurt her again.

I kiss her one more time then slowly walk to my room, clutching the phone every bit as hard as Peyton had just done. There is no way I can stomach watching some inane sitcom on TV so I don't even bother going back downstairs when I get changed for bed. Instead, I reach for my journal and start writing, letting the words cover the page.

The phone vibrates, sending a spike of anxiety through me. I throw my journal on the floor and then scramble onto the bed.

"Are you okay?" I ask at the same time I hear him say, "I'm so fucking sorry, Bella."

"Just answer me first, please," I beg him, holding the phone so tight I'm surprised I can't hear it crack.

"No, I'm not okay, but I'm back at the boarding house," he answers. His voice brings tears to my eyes because it's so afraid and so full of self-loathing. I hate it.

I sniff. "Oh, fuck. Bella, baby, please don't cry. I … shit, I didn't mean to walk out like that. I had the shittiest day ever today. I didn't sleep last night because I had a nightmare, I cut my hand, I have a headache, and then Peyton was," he cuts himself off and takes a deep breath. "I never should have done that; I know I shouldn't have. I promise, I'll never walk out like that again." He sounds frantic and I shush him.

"I won't tell you it's okay, because it's not, but thank for realizing you were wrong. You scared me, Edward, but worse, you scared Peyton. She thought it was her fault you left and was worried you were never coming back," I tell him. I brace for the string of curse words I know is about to fly and I'm not wrong.

The phone is muffled, like he's covering it with his hand or holding it face down, but I hear enough to know if I ever hear him talk like that in front of Peyton, he's getting his ass kicked from here to next week. But, it's what he does when he gets mad, so I wait for him to finish the self-flagellation.

"She hates me, doesn't she? She's got to be so mad at me. It would serve my ass right if she never forgives me," he says sadly.

I get up and walk down the hall, knowing the right thing to do would be to let her sleep, but knowing if I don't wake her up and let him talk to her, he'll worry all night. Not that he doesn't deserve it, but I do have to try to remember he's not used to dealing with issues like this, too.

"Baby," I whisper, ignoring Edward's demand that I let Peyton sleep. "Wake up, P. Edward's on the phone." I shake her a few times but when I repeat his name, she sits straight up. "Here, he wants to talk to you."

I listen to her say his name and the relief she feels from talking to him relaxes the painful twist in my chest. I go to get her a glass of water, giving her some privacy to talk to him. I take a few deep breaths myself and by the time I walk back in her room, she's laying on her pillow with a smile on her face.

"Okay, Edward. Here's Mom. Tomorrow night right?" she asks then smiles even bigger. "I love you, too. Okay. I know. Night," she finishes then hands the phone back to me.

I tuck her in again and then go back to my room, holding the phone but not speaking until I close my door.

"Thank you for talking to her. She'll sleep much better now," I tell him softly as I sit on the edge of my bed.

"Well at least one of us will. I feel like shit for scaring her, Bella, for scaring both of you."

"I know," I tell him … and I do.

We talk for a long time, about what happened, why he felt so overwhelmed, and what his nightmare was about. We talk about nonsense stuff, too, until we are both too tired to say another word. He does get the last word in though, when he says, "I don't deserve either of you, but I'm never letting you go," before I fall asleep, still holding the phone.

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

Nine o'clock on the dot, just like every night.

"Hey, baby." His voice … good Lord what just those two words do to me.

I let out a soft sigh and roll over to look out the window. There isn't much light; the moon is mostly hidden behind wispy clouds. I suppose it's fitting as tomorrow night is the Halloween Happening at Peyton's school. I pull my knees toward my chest and tug the blanket around me tighter.

"I wish you were here," I tell him, meaning it completely. "I'm cold and it's always warmer when you're in bed with me."

He chuckles a bit, though not as much as he normally would. "So, you're telling me you just need me there as a human blanket, huh?"

"Awww, damn, you found me out." I giggle but then realize he's not laughing with me. "Are you okay? You had a difficult session with Carlisle, didn't you?"

He doesn't say anything. I can hear him shuffle around in his bed and then he spats a low "fucking hell" when I hear a bump.

"Fuck that hurt," he mumbles.

I wait until I hear him stop moving before I ask, "Do you want to talk about it?"

I had a feeling he would spend some time talking to Carlisle tonight. I spent the evening up at the school helping the other moms and dads set up for the festivities tomorrow night. Xavier and Seth were there like always and Rose and Alice dropped off some food for the chili supper. It was great to hang out with Xav and Seth; I've missed them.

He sighs. "Maybe later. Tell me what you did tonight. How's Peyton? I barely got to talk to her before she fell asleep."

I let him change the subject, knowing full well he'll circle back around to it when he's ready. With Edward, I know it's much better to wait than to push. There are times when a push is necessary; this is not one of them. For all his fear that he doesn't know what he's doing most of the time, he's amazingly adept and surprisingly willing to talk about things when they bother him. He's stumbled, case in point his little meltdown with Peyton a few weeks ago, but it's rare when he refuses to talk about things.

Aleksei is the topic that takes the most care when bringing it up, not that Edward wants to talk about him much. After Wayne's visit, it took a while for Edward to put that memory back into the cage where it resides most of the time. Wayne's reminder that Aleksei has never been apprehended, that he's still out there somewhere, has really shaken Edward, so much so that he spent a few more nights at the house and when he wasn't here, he was calling at all hours of the night just to make sure we were okay. Seeing him scared was an eye-opener, and one that wasn't particularly pleasant if I'm being honest.

I shake off those thoughts and answer his question. "She's fine, wore herself right out blowing up all the balloons for the games. Xav kept challenging her to see who could blow them up the fastest. I'm surprised the big idiot didn't give himself an aneurism trying to keep up with her. Then she kept trying to sneak all the candy coins buried in the sand for the treasure hunt. I think Seth found more than she did though."

"I'm sorry I missed it," he says and I can tell he really is. "So everything is all ready for the big shindig? I gotta tell you, Bella, you small town people know how to make the biggest production out of things." He laughs a bit and I let the sound ease the knot that appeared the second I heard the tension in his voice.

I tell him a few more stories about the night and he laughs in the right places, even though I can tell he's not fully listening. I finish telling him some nonsense and he's quiet on the other end.

"I told Carlisle I'm nervous about tomorrow night," he says quietly and his voice is terse, underscoring the truth of his words.

"Oh, Edward," I answer back gently. I won't tell him not to be nervous because he's entitled to his feelings. I wish he wasn't, but I'll do everything I can to show him he has no reason to be.

There's rustling on the other end until he stills once more. I can just picture him running his hands through his hair. More than likely, he has the phone cradled against his ear with one hand tugging on his hair and the other holding onto Peyton's seashell. She's shared plenty of things from her treasure box with him over the past few months, but none mean as much as the seashell she gave him for that first overnight trip on the boat. "Are you and Peyton positive you want me to go with you tomorrow night? I can just stay at your house and wait to see you guys when you're done at school."

My heart clenches. I curl my fingers into a fist beside my face, squeezing them so tightly I can feel my fingernails dig into the center of my hand. I want to be frustrated with him, but I can't be. "Of course I want you with us; we both do. I wish you would stop worrying so much," I tell him, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

"I don't want to embarrass you, Bella. Those people are your friends, and the parents of Peyton's friends. It sucks, but you know what people think about me the first time they see me. It would kill me if anyone said anything to Sprite that was mean because of me. I don't know, I just think it would be better if I didn't go." He sounds so dejected and it just about breaks my heart.

"Fuck them," I say immediately. "Edward," I take a breath and softened my voice, "I love you … the man that is Edward Anthony Masen, not Edward Anthony Masen ex-con. I've told you this before and I know others have, too. Don't let a label define who you are. You make me happy, you make Peyton shine brighter than the star on top of the Christmas tree, and we want you, just the way you are."

"Ah, Bella," he breathes out. "I love you so fucking much, you know that right? I mean I know I don't always show you or tell you the right way, but I really do. I just … I don't know how."

I giggle, though not enough to hurt his feelings. "Really, Edward?" I tease. "I'm pretty sure the smile on my face that I sport daily and the bracelet that never comes off a certain little girl's wrist is a pretty good indication you do."

"Yeah, well, maybe," he hedges, but I can tell he's smiling.

"There is no maybe about it." A gust of wind rattles the window and the bare tree branches scrape along the side of the house making me huddle inside my blankets even more. I yawn, covering my mouth with my hand in the hopes he doesn't hear me, which of course he does.

"I should let you go. You had a long day and tomorrow will be just as long, especially because tomorrow night you won't be sleeping in bed alone." His caramel turtle voice slides over me, making every inch of my body tingle like I've just touched a doorknob after dragging sock-covered feet across the carpet.

I moan; I can't help it. I also rub my thighs together to try to ease the ache that's just erupted between my legs. Damn evil, silky, gritty voice. "You're mean." I pout and the chuckle that floats through the phone is anything but sweet and silly. Instead it is full of dark promises which only serve to fan the flames.

"I'll see you tomorrow night. Sweet dreams only, baby. I love you," he says tenderly and I melt. He's just too much sometimes.

"Love you, too. Be safe." It's what I tell him every time we get off the phone … I won't ever stop.

Sleep finds me quickly which comes as a surprise when I wake the next morning. I figured between thinking about Aleksei, Edward's real but unnecessary worries, and the anxiousness about the festival, I would have tossed and turned all night, but I wake wonderfully rested. Getting both myself and Peyton out the door goes much smoother than I could've hoped; the only meltdown coming when Peyton can't find the red wristbands Edward bought for her costume. We find them, finally, and then we're off.

We rush out the front door, past the pumpkin we carved the week before. The air is crisp, and the leaves that have fallen from the trees crunch beneath our feet as we cross the yard and get into the Blazer. I really could have used Xavier's help this morning getting a few last minute things in the truck, most important being Peyton's costume, but he was needed at the restaurant. Edward isn't far off the mark with his comment of the town making a big production out of this. For a family friendly fundraiser at school, it's a pretty big damn deal. The entire town is involved in one way or another. Sue us … Corea is tiny, we have to get our entertainment somehow.

Driving through town toward school, I can't help but feel a little nostalgic. Pumpkins, scarecrows, hay bales, dried Indian corn, witches, ghosts … a plethora of decorations in front of every house, in every window of every business, and in every front yard.

I drop Peyton off with a promise that I'll have everything ready for her as soon as she arrives at The Breakers after school and head toward the restaurant.

"Bell, did you remember to bring the Eye Black?" Xavier asks as I rush in the back door of the kitchen.

I turn at the sound of his voice and burst out laughing, almost dropping Peyton's costume in the process. "Nice look you've got going on there, buddy."

"Pshhhh, you just wish you could rock the vampire look like me," he quips.

I roll my eyes at him not admitting that he looks damn good. If I did, I'd never hear the end of it.

The morning speeds by as does the lunch hour. Before I know it, it's almost time for Peyton to be done at school. The plan is she will come here, get dressed, and then we'll head back to the school for the fun to commence. I lay out her costume on a table, smiling when I remember how excited she was the week before when she modeled it for me and Edward.

"She's going to look adorable." Alice giggles next to me.

"Watch it, Ali. You better not let P hear you say that," I tell her seriously.

She looks at me. "Please tell me Edward is dressing up, too?" she asks with raised eyebrows and a hopeful look on her face.

I look back at her like she's lost her damn mind. "You're joking, right? I barely got him to agree to come tonight. There is no way I'd even think about suggesting he dress up in a costume."

She pulls a chair out and calls Rose over. Once they both sit, she gives me a stern look and says simply but quite emphatically, "Spill."

I drum my fingers on the table, letting my thoughts roam for a second or two before looking from Rose to Alice. "He's nervous about tonight," I say with a sigh. "He even asked if he should stay home."

Alice gasps. She narrows her eyes, fire shooting out of them fast and furiously. She's fiercely protective of Edward; she gives Peyton a serious run for her money in the defender department. "Please tell me he's still going," she demands.

I nod. "He is. I'm not sure he's really comfortable about it, but he doesn't want to disappoint Peyton."

"Or you either," Alice replies back immediately.

I nod again. "I know that, Al. He tries so hard and he gets himself all worked up."

"He just wants to fit in," Rose says knowingly. She leans forward and says, "It's important to him to be good for you and Peyton and he's always worried he's not." I open my mouth to say something but she holds up a hand, halting my words instantly. "We know he is, Bella, but this is the first time he's going to put himself out there. Here in the restaurant or at Finn's or even when we were at the races was different. Tonight the entire town will see you three acting like a family, or as close to one as you can get, and he just wants to make you two proud of him."

"Rose, we are proud of him," I tell her, though it's completely unnecessary. It's not like she doesn't know.

"Well, if anyone gives him shit, you just let me know," Alice mutters menacingly. For such a small person, she can be damn scary when she wants to be. "I'll slip some hot pepper sauce in their chili or something. No one messes with my friend and gets away with it." She gets up from the table still grumbling to herself leaving me and Rose to just stare at her retreating back with mouths agape.

"She loves him almost as much as Peyton does." Rose smiles at me from across the table.

"She does," I agree quietly.

It's not surprising, really, that Alice and Edward are as close as they are. Their pasts are quite similar in so many ways. Alice's mom died of pancreatic cancer when she was ten and was taken in by her grandparents. Alice's mom had been their only child and her dad had taken off before she was even born. She met Jasper in high school when his parents, if you could call them that, wound up in the same suburb of Dallas as Alice lived in. By the time they were getting ready to graduate from high school, they were practically living together so that Jasper could escape the beatings his dad would give him for the slightest misdeed. Her grandparents loved Jasper, but sadly they were killed in a car accident during the summer after their senior year.

Wanting to get far away from his parents and her memories, they traveled for a bit, completely alone and living on the small inheritance Alice got from her grandparents. They worked odd jobs here and there, searching for something, someplace that would make them happy and where they could call home. Like a lot of people, Jasper saw a show on TV about being a fisherman. He decided to give it a chance and see if his affinity for the water would translate into him loving being on the water all the time and luckily for all of us it did. He and my dad hit it off immediately, same with him and Emmett, and Alice was just happy to have a place where she felt safe and had people around she could love.

Much like Edward.

I'm really happy they have such a strong bond to each other. They both need that one person that understands them, that has been there, done that. I have my own ghosts, my own issues, but I don't know what it's like to be alone, not like they do. The fact that I've been that way the past few years was by choice, theirs was by fate. Even Jasper, for all he hates his family, still has a mother and father. Alice and Edward don't.

Before I can ruminate on those facts any longer, the front door to the restaurant flies open and Peyton rushes through, bringing a swirl of leaves along with her.

"Mom!" she cries out as she weaves between the tables. "I'm so excited!" She throws her backpack down on the ground and then flings herself at me. I haven't had time to even stand up so we're all off balance, and it's a wonder she doesn't knock me off the chair.

"Really?" I tease with a grin. "I never could have guessed. I'm also betting you've already had more than a few pieces of candy, haven't you?"

She giggles and rocks back and forth on her feet, trying to look as innocent as an angel but looking at the gleam in her eye and the way she bites the inside of her cheek is a dead giveaway. "But, Mom, Gabby's mom brought treat bags and Mrs. Watson told us we could have them after we finished our spelling worksheets, and you know how hard spelling is for me so I wanted a treat when I finished and didn't make any mistakes. When can I get dressed? I don't want to be late and I want to get there before Edward does. Do you think he'll want to do the cake walk with me?" She pants as she tries to catch her breath.

Good Lord the girl is going to make herself pass out one of these days if she doesn't learn how to take a breath while she talks.

"P, relax." I smile at her and pull her close for a hug. "Go ask Xavier to make you a snack, preferably fruit or something to offset the sugar pumping in your blood right now and then we'll get you dressed to go, okay?"

She squeaks and then rushes to the kitchen where I hear a happy shout of "Boo!" followed by Xavier's unmistakable booming laugh.

The restaurant is dead since everyone is going to be eating at the chili supper and those that aren't know better than to think anyplace in town is going to be open for dinner anyway. I wipe off the tables and arrange a few things behind the front counter until it's time to get Peyton dressed in her costume. Alice and Rose had left awhile ago to help in the kitchen at school, and Xavier left to go help Emmett, Jasper, and Seth in the parking lot for the Trunk or Treat.

Like I said, when we do something in Corea, we go all out.

I am brushing Peyton's hair and getting ready to braid it into two braids when the bells over the front door jingle. My skin tingles and the hair on my arms stands up.

"You're here," I say ridiculously since he's standing in front of me.

Oh God, he looks amazing.

Faded jeans, a black, long-sleeved t-shirt and his boots. Dark and dangerous just like the first time I saw him. I know now what lays beneath all that posturing and gruff exterior … and though he's still dark and dangerous, I know he'd never hurt me or Peyton and that's all I need.

"So it seems." He smirks as he swaggers toward Peyton and me.

He takes his time and I can tell he enjoys the way I can't keep my eyes off of him. The brush I'm holding slips out of my hand and the sound of it hitting the floor makes me jump.

He chuckles. I try to glare, but fail horribly. Peyton giggles when he leans down and rubs his nose against hers.

"You look great, Sprite," he tells her as he straddles a chair and drapes his arms over the back.

I humph because he didn't kiss me hello.

Jerk.

He casually bends over and picks up the brush, holding it until I look at him. I wiggle my fingers and this time I do glare at him when he smirks again in that way he has when he drops it into my hands. I finish braiding Peyton's hair.

"Go in the kitchen and get the bag with the wristbands and the Eye Black strips and come back here so we can get you finished up." I nudge her off her chair.

She scampers off without even looking back, too excited to think straight and will more than likely come back out here having forgotten one thing or the other.

I chance a quick peek at Edward. Mistake number one. Mistake number two comes when I lower my eyes to his lips and then subconsciously lick my own. I hear his chest rumble for about half a second before I feel myself yanked forward. He hooks a heavy boot around the leg of my chair and pulls me toward him, reaching out with his hands to hold onto my seat when I get close enough for him to reach.

He leans forward over the back of his chair. "And, hello to you, too," he whispers huskily as he drags his nose down the side of my face. "Mmmm, you always smell so fucking good." He flicks his tongue against my neck and the warm breath makes me shiver when it reaches the spot where his tongue has just been.

I tip my head to the side as his tongue continues to drive me crazy. Thankfully before I do something that scars my poor daughter for all her remaining days, he kisses me sweetly, dialing back the lust level to something much more manageable. I look into his sea glass green eyes and smile, thankful that they are bright and not clouded with worry.

"Did you have a good day?" I ask and rest my forehead against his.

"Hmmm, I did. It's a hell of a lot better now though." He lifts his hands and cradles my head. "I've been thinking about this all day," he says just before his mouth finds mine. I mold my lips to his, wanting everything he gives me. His tongue sweeps across my bottom lip and then he slowly dips it into my mouth. I hear him growl in the back of his throat and the vibration shoots straight through my body … all the way to the tips of my toes.

"God, not again," Peyton wails when she comes out of the kitchen.

Sadly, Edward and I break apart, though not as quickly as my darling daughter would like judging from the way her mouth is puckered like she just ate a lemon and her arms are crossed across her chest. "You look like Pop did when I went out on a date and he caught me kissing Will McNelly." I laugh.

"Who the hell is Will McNelly?" Edward asks in a steely voice. I try, I do, but I laugh so hard at the way he looks like he's about tear the town down trying to find poor Will.

I grab the bag from Peyton and then turn to him. Bending down, I kiss him quickly on the cheek and say, "Easy, now, tiger."

Peyton giggles at him as she sits in the seat I just vacated and swings her legs back and forth. I hold her arm up and slide a wristband on and hand Edward the other one to put on her other wrist. "Edward," she says in a serious voice, or as serious as she can with her face all squished up while I put the Eye Black strips on her. "Mom only kisses you now, so don't be mad. It's kinda gross if you ask me, but Brody says if a boy likes a girl, they kiss sometimes."

This time the growl is more like a roar. "I really need to meet this Brody punk, Bella. I think it's about time he and I have a talk."

"He'll be there tonight, Edward," Peyton answers thinking she's being helpful when she's pretty much just sealed the poor boy's fate.

"Okay, all done," I tell her.

She hops up and looks from me to Edward. She looks amazing, if I do say so myself. She's dressed in a pair of football pants, and a Tom Brady jersey. We found a pair of Emmett's old shoulder pads at Mom's and with her hair braided, and under her eyes painted black, she's perfect. From the way Edward is staring at her, he feels the same way.

I grab my cell phone out of my pocket and take a quick picture of them looking at each other, totally unaware of everything around them. I smile when I look down at the screen; the picture will look great framed and on the bookshelf in the living room.

We walk to the school, merging with the crowd on the sidewalk. Edward snorts at me as it continues to grow the closer we get to the school. I suppose I'm used to it, but looking at the parking lot full of cars and games, with lines of ghosts, witches, superheroes, and princesses, I can see how it might all look a bit strange.

"Okay, we need a plan of attack here," I tell them as I pull them to the side.

Peyton is barely paying attention and every few seconds someone walks by and says, "Hi, Bella. Hi, Edward," which quite honestly looks like it's freaking him out.

"Do we want to Trunk or Treat, play games, or eat first?" I ask, looking back and forth between them.

Edward's eyes look a bit wild when he glances toward the circle of cars and then to the school where the crowd seems to growing inside the cafeteria. "P, this is your show, what do you want to do first?"

She taps her chin and then smiles hugely. "Trunk or Treat. I see Jasper and Uncle Emmett." She points. We all turn and my eyes about fall out of my head.

"Oh, heavens," I mutter, somewhat in awe and somewhat in embarrassment.

Edward shakes his head and stands between us, taking a hand in each of his. "Don't ever think about asking me to do that, Bella. Not in a million years and not for a million dollars," he says.

I have no doubt he's deadly serious.

"Uncle Emmett," Peyton says as she pulls on the yellow feathers of Emmett's costume. Yes, my brother is dressed like a chicken, complete with a huge head and tail feathers.

He pushes the stuffed head off his own head and looks crestfallen. "How'd you know it was me?"

We all laugh, even the Jack Sparrow wanna-be, Jasper. "You're the only one crazy enough to rent a complete chicken costume for a kids Halloween carnival," I tell him. "And besides, you're standing by Jasper's car. Who else would it be?

"I can't believe Rose and Alice let you two cook up this game," I scold, cringing when Peyton gleefully picks up a grotesque-looking rubber chicken and tries to toss it into the tiny, sand castle-sized bucket.

"What?" Jasper asks innocently. "The kids love it. We've already gone through a huge bucket of candy," he says proudly.

We spend a few more minutes with them before we give someone else a try and make our way around the parking lot. Edward visits with people as we go, cautious but open. No one has looked twice at him and I can see him relax more with each passing minute. By the time we've made the circuit, Peyton has enough candy to last until next Halloween and we haven't even made it inside yet. Her pumpkin bucket is full of candy, little trinkets that won't make it past the weekend, and more pencils and stickers than she knows what to do with.

The smell of chili lures us inside. It takes a few minutes to navigate the crowded hallway until we get to the cafeteria. I hand our tickets for the dinner over and we follow the line to get our food. Once our trays are full we step into the cafeteria and look for a place to sit. I spy my parents and we head in their direction.

The place is packed, but everyone is having a great time. Peyton is so busy pointing out every single one of her friends, Edward barely has time to eat.

"Did you see Em and Jasper outside?" my dad asks with a shake of his head.

I nod and my mom elbows him in the side. "Don't you sit there and try to look like you're embarrassed, Charlie. If I would've let you, you would have been outside right along side them dressed in the gorilla costume you asked Emmett to get when he got that ridiculous chicken get-up."

"Mom, can I show Edward my pumpkin picture?" Peyton asks as she leans forward and looks at me.

I nod and she drags him off, not even letting him finish the spoon of chili he had halfway to his mouth. She not only manages to pull Edward behind her, but a few other friends that quite frankly look more interested in Edward than her.

I gather our trash and throw it all away and stop to refill my glass of tea.

"Hello, Bella," I hear the nails on a chalkboard voice of Trisha Davis.

I turn and try to plaster on what I hope is a passable for sincere smile. "Hi, Trisha. Great turnout," I say as I strive to be pleasant.

Trisha Davis in a word … hates me. Always has, always will, ever since we were in high school. She was one of the girls that followed Evan around like a lovesick fool. She was one of the most vocal people to let it be known how it was all my fault after Evan died.

"Hmmm, there were more people here last year when I was in charge," she answers dismissively with a wave of her hand. "I hear you have a new … friend. Edward is it?" Her tone is nasty, condescending.

I don't answer because it's none of her business for one, and for two, she obviously knows what the answer is anyway.

"How can you feel safe with him in the house, Bella? Or worse yet, with Peyton?" she asks in a sickeningly saccharine voice, pretending like she cares one iota when we both know nothing could be further from the truth. However, hearing her say his name immediately puts me on the defensive.

"Edward is an amazing man and Peyton adores him," I answer simply, not wanting to say anymore.

She looks across the cafeteria, her watery blue eyes appraising Edward. He's surrounded by a gaggle of giggling little girls dressed as everything from a football player to a ballerina. He smiles fondly at who I assume is Lucy if the bright red hair is any indication and nods his head at her. I can hear his deep laugh from where I'm standing and the sound makes what the hateful, small-minded woman beside me thinks, irrelevant.

"He sure is a fine hunk of a man though, Bella, gotta give you credit for that. First Evan and now Edward. Makes one kind of wonder what poor Edward's fate might be someday. He does know what happened to Evan doesn't he, how you trapped him into taking care of you and then it killed him?" Her tone is neutral, as if we were having a conversation about the weather … her words are anything but.

I want to strangle her with my bare hands … or at the very least dump a bowl of chili on top of her bleach bottle blonde hair for disparaging not only Edward but Evan's memory, too.

"You are such a miserable bitch, Trisha. You've always been the most self-centered person I've ever come across, but you truly are in a class by yourself. The only reason you have a problem with Edward is because he won't even give you the time of day. You don't know anything about him except what you see on the outside." I glance in her direction, getting a sick satisfaction out of seeing her face as red as a tomato and her fingers curled so tight they're white. I lean in close, making sure that no one but her can hear my next words. "And let me tell you, what's beneath the clothes is to die for. Too bad you'll never know. Have a good night," I end with and walk toward Edward, not bothering to look back.

I'm a raging mess on the inside. I try to imagine all the cruel things I could do to her, but one look at Edward, who never takes his eyes off me as I approach, makes it all just melt away like it never existed. She's not worth the energy to ever think about again, not when I have much more pleasant things to occupy my mind.

"What was that about?" he whispers as he pulls me close to him. His arm slides possessively around my waist and I love it. I hope every person in the cafeteria can see us together because I'd honestly like nothing more than to stand on one of the table tops and announce it to everyone.

I wave it off because Trisha isn't worth expending the breath to explain.

"I'm so happy you're here," I tell him softly and lay my head on his shoulder.

I feel him press his lips to the top of my head and the fingers of his hand spread wide over my hip and the top of my ass. "I can't think of anyplace else I'd rather be."

The rest of the night flies by in a flurry of games and candy and fun. By the time we walk back to the restaurant, Peyton is asleep on her feet. Edward gets her into the Blazer and we head back to my house, holding hands the entire way. He looks at me when he parks the car, and then leans across the console so close our noses touch.

"I had the best time tonight," he says.

"I'm glad." His eyes bore right into mine and my insides tingle in the most delicious of ways.

We don't say anything for a few moments as our eyes have a silent conversation. The corner of his mouth lifts and he whispers, "Bet I can make you gladder in about five minutes."

I want to tell him gladder isn't a word, but the way his eyes are smoldering pretty much makes me incapable of speech at this point.

It actually takes closer to ten minutes, but that's only because Peyton wouldn't take off her jersey for bed. I spent the night being very, very glad.

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

"Mom, hurry. The game's already started," Peyton complains when I park Cherry in front of Carlisle and Esme's house Thanksgiving Day.

"Well, if you'd stop yapping and help me carry some of this in the house, we'll get the car unloaded quicker." I chuckle at her.

We get out of the truck and I load her arms up and shoo her toward the house. My mom and Esme alternate having Thanksgiving at their houses and this year it's Esme's turn. For Edward's sake, I'm glad it is. All week he's been quiet, not withdrawn exactly, but he's certainly been inside his head a lot.

I hear the front door open and Peyton shriek a happy hi as she races past Edward. I watch him walk toward me, and I can't help but appreciate how gorgeous he looks in his dark-washed jeans and white shirt. Dinner is never a dress-up affair, but no one shows up in gym shorts and a ratty t-shirt either.

"Happy Thanksgiving," I tell him as I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him quickly.

"Same to you. I'm so glad you're here. Seth is driving me fucking nuts. I swear he's worse than a hyper puppy." He chuckles as he buries his nose into my hair. "Oh, God, tell me that is what I think it is." He moans when I hand him a tray covered with tinfoil. I smile at him and lift the corner, showing him what's underneath.

"Fuck, I love you," he says in a low, rough voice.

I shut the back door to the Blazer and take a few steps up the sidewalk. "So you just love me because I make you pumpkin squares, huh?"

He blinks twice and then a sexy smile spreads across his face. "Amongst other things," he says slowly. "It also helps that your ass looks fucking amazing in those pants."

Jesus.

He cocks an eyebrow at me when I don't say anything for a few seconds because he's rendered me speechless.

"Bella!" Seth hollers from the front porch, popping my little Edward bubble. Edward rolls his eyes at me as if to say, "see, I told you" before we walk toward the house.

Everyone is already here. Mom and Esme are busy in the kitchen, the guys are already crowded around the television with Peyton happily ensconced on my dad's lap, and Rose and Alice are setting the huge table. Hugs and kisses are given and I go one way and Edward is dragged off the other.

"How's he been this morning?" I ask Esme as we stand around the island. I add another dash of milk to the bowl of steaming mashed potatoes in front of me. Stirring, I look up at her and wait for an answer.

"Quiet, but holding it together." She nods knowingly. "He and Carlisle had their coffee outside this morning."

"Hmmm, that's good," I tell her. "I know today will be hard for him."

"More than likely, but he's doing so well," she says proudly.

I hear him laugh from the other room and my heart swells at the sound. He's doing better than well, at least I think so, but admittedly I'm more than a little biased.

We spend a few hours in the kitchen talking and cooking. I'm laying a linen napkin in a basket for the rolls when my favorite pair of arms slide around my waist. "Is it almost time? I'm starving," he asks against my neck.

"Yep, just about," I tell him, turning my head to kiss him on the cheek. "How are you doing, hanging in there okay?" I ask quietly. I don't want to make a big deal out of things, but I do want to let him know I realize the day, while a happy one, isn't without some sad memories.

"I'm fine. It's … a lot, but having you and Peyton here makes it better," he sighs and says softly in my ear.

"Excuse me," Mom chirps as she sets a casserole dish on the island. Edward stiffens behind me and I can feel his heart hammering in his chest against my back.

I look down at the sweet potatoes, wondering what in the world would cause that reaction from him. I'm about to ask him when he lets go and rushes out of the room, leaving my mom and I staring at each other in confusion.

"What did I do?" she asks, looking crestfallen.

I set the basket I'm holding down and pat the top of her hand. "It's not you, Mom. I'll go check on him."

"Hey," I say quietly, not wanting to startle him, and close the door quietly behind me.

He's staring out the window, not moving. I can hear the sounds of the TV downstairs, groans as someone from one team or the other does something no one likes. The smell of the turkey roasting in the oven mixes with the smell of him that permeates his room. It's the first time I've been here but I don't take the time to look around, instead focusing only on him.

I knew this day was going to be hard for him.

"Do you know," he begins, still looking out the window. "That if I think hard enough, I can still remember how it used to smell in my grandmother's kitchen on Thanksgiving, especially when she made the candied sweet potatoes … you know the kind with the marshmallows on top?" he asks almost absently. He turns and looks at me, his eyes so sad it takes my breath away. "I haven't had them in so long, the shit they served in prison was out of a can and when I saw that Renée had made them it just … " he trails off.

I step closer and slide my fingers between his.

"I miss them so fucking much, Bella, everyday." My eyes burn at the corners, and my heart pounds painfully against my chest, but I just squeeze his hand in mine to let him know that while I know it hurts, he's not alone.

"I know you do, Edward, but you're not alone. I know you'll always love them and you will always miss them but you don't ever have to feel like you don't have anyone ever again. You'll always have me and Peyton." I lift our hands and kiss his calloused knuckles. I brush my lips across every cut and scrape and then tell him, "You have people who love you like Carlisle and Esme, and my parents, and good friends, friends who care so much about you like Alice and Seth, and Jasper and Rose and Emmett and even Xavier. You have Wayne, who you make so proud. You have a family, Edward, full of people who love you." I reach up and hold my hand to his face. "I love you, so, so much. I know it doesn't take away your pain, but you don't have to keep it to yourself anymore either."

He strangles out a very shaky, "Bella," before his mouth is on mine. Hungry, desperate, anguished sounds escape as he kisses me. The muscles in his arms twitch as he holds me close. His heart thunders in his chest and I just hang on and give him what he needs.

"Shhh, it's okay, sweetheart," I whisper as he trembles against me.

"I love you. Christ I love you so fucking much." He rests his forehead against mine and he keeps his eyes closed as he inhales and exhales deeply. I can feel him relax and when he opens his eyes, they are still gray around the edges but my favorite glass bottle green is plenty prevalent.

"Better?" I ask running my fingers though his hair.

He nods and swallows a few times. "I'm going to go help get dinner on the table. Take a few minutes and come down when you're ready, okay?"

I kiss his cheek and lay my hand on his other, taking just a moment to gaze deep into his eyes. I make it to the door before I hear a soft, "Bella?" I turn and look at him, waiting. "Thank you for sharing your family with me."

My eyes burn with tears. It takes everything I have not to throw myself at him, but I know it would be too much for him so I just blow him a kiss and close the door. It takes me a minute to get myself under control and when I do, I head back to the kitchen.

"Bella, is he all right?" Mom asks as soon as she sees me. God, she loves him. I wish he realized how much.

I hug her and then nod. "He's better. It's a hard day for him, you know? He misses his grandparents and feels like he's all alone."

"Nonsense. He's one of us now," she says immediately, making me smile.

"I told him the same thing."

By the time the food is on the table, Edward has come back downstairs and he sits between me and Peyton. The table is covered with food, but what matters is the people sitting around it. I've spent way too long holding myself back, and taking them for granted. Edward had no one. It makes me feel guilty for having so much and not appreciating it while he suffered and no one cared. I find his hand beneath the table and squeeze. He leans over and kisses the side of my head and then does the same to Peyton. I glance across the table at my dad who is watching Edward. When their eyes meet, Charlie nods and lifts his glass in a silent toast.

Edward is definitely one of us now.

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