A Constant in The Darkness

Chapter Sixteen - I Want to Make You Feel Free

Darlings,

Thank you beautiful readers, your comments are stellar and our conversations are warming to my fuzzy brain...

And my sweet beta n7of9...have I told you lately that I love you?

Disclaimer: I don't own it.

...

BPOV

I was going to tell him, I swore to myself I was. I had made up my mind while Alice was fixing my hair, placing curl upon curl on top of my head, and it just felt so heavy. All of it, the hair on my head, the tulle of my skirt, the shiny fabric tight across my chest, constricting and making it difficult to breathe. I realized this was a metaphor for the way I had been feeling in my own skin and in my interactions with Edward, all pretty and dolled up, but not real. Edward loved me, but he loved the me that he knew, the me that I gave him. He didn't love the real me, and how could he? I was disgusting, what I do is disgusting. He couldn't love the crouched over the toilet, tears streaming down my cheeks while saliva dripped from my fingers and vomit toilet water splattered on my face and hair, self-loathing me. It was a humiliating part of myself that I hadn't ever wanted to share with anyone. Until now. Joni sang through my mind, giving me the strength to make this decision, "Forgetting fear but never disregarding her..."

But this is what happens when you fuck with Karma. Tonight wasn't right, it shouldn't have been tonight, and now I had ruined everything.

"Fuck!" I choked on the word as I ran after him, these stupid fucking heels clicking along the pavement and biting into my feet, the sharp pangs cutting and rubbing into my bare skin. I grabbed at his arm, every swipe barely missing by inches, just trying to grasp on to him, to anything, so I could explain, so I could finally make it equal. But I was too slow, my shoes a huge encumbrance and his long legs carrying him away from me much too quickly.

He reached the car a few seconds before I did, driving his fist into the hood, a dent crinkled around his curled hand. I stopped, shocked and paralyzed, the pain distorting his face too much for me to bear. My empty stomach twisted in nausea even though I knew there was nothing to purge. How could I do this to him, cause his beautiful face to twist in such agony? What the fuck was wrong with me?

Edward was still now so I took the opportunity to speak, to grab his attention in the hope that he would listen long enough for me to tell him the truth.

"Edward, I need to explain," I said, barely loud enough for him to hear.

"There's nothing to explain, Bella." The chill in his voice sent goosebumps assaulting my arms and legs, forcing me to take the steps to move closer to him, to stand in the warmth of his shelter.

"Edward, I'm not on drugs. I promise you that. I got those from Jasper months ago. I've never even taken one, not one. Count them. I swear to you, I'm not taking drugs." I really hadn't touched the pills. I had completely forgotten they were even in my bag until they were staring Edward right in the face, a little plastic bag of deceit.

He asked the question that would bring about the confession. "Why do you have them if you don't use them?" Confusion spread across his face as he continued his questioning. "Why would you carry them around in your bag?"

My heart began to pound, knowing that what I was about to say could very well disgust him, drive him away, make him leave me. It was something I simply couldn't live with - without my soul, without my shelter, I am nothing. I was so fucking scared he would leave, the fear pumping through my veins and catching in my throat, but I tried to find a way to say this.

"Um...I have this thing...with food and they take away my appetite." Fuck! This was not coming out right, the words sounding pathetic and useless. I continued to try to explain. "I forgot they were in there, I swear. And I didn't tell you because I know how you worry and I was trying to take care of it myself." I couldn't control the words flooding from my mouth anymore, nothing but excuses, my pattern of self preservation binding me to my bullshit. Tears of frustration streamed down my cheeks and curses slipped from my lips because I knew this wasn't good enough, that I wasn't good enough, that maybe I never would be. I couldn't feel my fingers, my entire body numb from the frigid fog that had rolled into the town while we were inside, a damp mist floating about the air sticking to my face and hair.

Suddenly, Edward was gripping my shoulders and I was falling apart, desperate for his touch, for our connection, a little hint that we were still okay, that we'd be okay, but his fingers were rough and frantic and I crumbled at the realization that I had totally fucked up here. I had possibly destroyed the one thing that I was actually good at, the one thing in my life that allowed me to feel valuable and needed and normal. I collapsed onto him, his profuse scent invading my head and swirling, and I inhaled him in great gasps, trying to breath but just fucking sobbing, my emotions a runaway train intent on crushing everything in its path.

Edward was yelling now, "Just fucking say it!" and I did. I told him everything, every humiliating speck of information, I gave it to him. I told him how I couldn't eat and how I'd purge when I did. I told him how it started and how I had gotten to this point and that now I wanted to get better, be better because of him, because of his care and selfless nurturing. Edward made me want to be whole again, to really live, not just exist. He was pushing me away and I was begging, pleading for him to believe me, clutching at his clothing in an attempt to hold onto him, the shirt a tangible article I could wrap my fingers around.

Then, when I felt so sure I was going to break, when hysteria seemed imminent, he slipped my sweater from my shoulders to trace the bones of my collar and shoulders with soft, passive fingers, and I felt it. I recognized the touch, our connection, and that tiny hint of reassurance was what I needed to continue. I whispered his name, longing to feel him pressed against my lips, my eyes on his mouth as his talked, his tongue moving between the most perfectly even white teeth. I wanted to feel his mouth on me and his sharp teeth nipping at my skin, and I found myself breathless thinking about his beautiful fucking teeth.

"Why can't you eat?" Edward asked, his touch on my shoulders, gentle hands smoothing over my skin.

"I don't know." Because I hate myself, because I don't deserve it, because I'm completely fucked up. "It all started as something else and now I just can't do it. I don't even get hungry anymore."

"So all those times you ate my food, did you throw it up?" Edward asked. Silence hung in the air. I couldn't find my voice, petrified to answer. Heat burned in my face and ears and I struggled to answer. Fuck! The way he had said it sounded so awful, my food, my gift, my offering, an extension of himself, and I had just thrown it away, flushed it down the toilet. It was so ungrateful, a fucking slap in the face.

"Fuck, Bella. How many times?" he persisted. The disappointment in his voice caused a new wave of guilt and nausea to twist through my body.

"You want a fucking number? I don't know, fuck!" I couldn't answer him because I didn't know. How many days has he been bringing me lunch now? Too many to count. And how many times had I visited the school day-smoking restroom? I couldn't think, the facts muddled into incoherency. What if I did give him a number, what would he do? What would he think of me then? My brain pounded with frantic remorse, a tide of contrite panic tumbling through my very soul.

"A lot, okay? I fucking did it a lot. More in the beginning." Edward moved away from me and the panic began to build again, causing me to reach out and pull him back to me, attaching my arms around his waist in a weak attempt to prevent him from walking away, from leaving me.

"But I don't do it that much anymore. I feel…guilty. I can't explain it, Edward, you just have to trust me." I was begging, trying to offer him anything that he would be able to find redeemable, and I almost scoffed at myself for asking him to trust me, like I deserved such a privilege. My stomach churned with shame, disgusted in my arrogance in even asking for this.

"Trust you?" His whispered voice tore at my heart, the quiet so vulnerable and frail. "Bella, of course I trust you. It's you who can't seem to trust me." Trust was a hard thing for me. Everyone I'd ever trusted had let me down, crushed me and left me to wither away to nothing. "I never loved a man I trusted..."

Suddenly, Edward pulled me to him, his arms pulled tight around me and literally knocking the wind out of me. But his words were the final blow, affirmation of everything I had been dreading.

"What can I do to fix this?"

No, no, no! Fix this? Fuck! The words radiated in my head, fix this. Fix me. "I don't want you to fix me Edward! That's not your fucking job. I'm not some head case, weak and broken for you to fix! Fuck!" I shouted, pulling away, my mind frantic and clouded.

If I knew how to fix it I would have done it long ago. I should have known this was how he would react because Edward is a fixer. He's a nurturer, a provider, constantly giving and sacrificing and soon he might realize that it was all for nothing. Oh fuck! I am a horrible person. I tricked him into loving this version of me, what he thought was me and now I was going to hurt him.

"This is exactly why I didn't tell you in the first place, because there's nothing you can do and you'll just end up feeling helpless and sad that you can't fix me." What if I can't be fixed? What if it never goes away? What if he goes away? What if it kills me? What if that kills him? Would I blame him? Could I blame him? I paced in front of him, pulling at my hair, feeling satisfaction in the small stings.

But he needed to know. He needed to know that it was a possibility that I might never get better, that I might never be better. I had to ask him. I had to see what he would say when faced with the possibility, my insatiable curiosity gnawing at my eroded insides.

"And why do I need to be fixed? I'm not good enough the way that I am?" I was close to his face now, judging every facial hiccup, every flinch in his eyes, every twitch in his beautiful mouth. I'm not good enough for him. I never will be.

"What, you don't want me if I'm broken? What if I never get better? Huh? What if I decided I like myself like this and I don't want to be better? What would you fucking do then, Edward?" He'd leave. Of course he wouldn't want me broken and why should I expect him to? Why should I expect anyone to want me? What could I even offer him? Disgusted with myself, I pounded my fists into his chest with each question, the muscles of his torso flexed and strained against my assault.

With my last strike, Edward grabbed my wrist and I yanked it back instinctively, surprised and hostile when he didn't let go. I glared at him, accepting the challenge, and tried again to pull my arm free from his grip, and in one fluid movement his mouth was on mine, hard and furious and fucking glorious. I forced my tongue into his mouth, nipping hungrily at his bottom lip with my teeth and thrusting my hand to clutch at his bronze curls, pulling at his hair and desperately trying to ease every fear and every pain with this connection.

Edward lifted me onto the hood of his car, the cold sheet metal sharp against my bare skin, and I was frantic to feel him against me. His hands pushed my skirt above my thighs and I couldn't breathe, his mouth making me hungry to taste him again. Deep desire and pulsing and throbbing between my legs intensified as he brought his mouth to mine again, and then his fingers were inside me and I felt such gratification in the bond, his fingers thrusting and twisting, and I fucking needed him inside me, the physical manifestation of his acceptance, proof that he would never leave. Proof that he wanted me, even though I was a broken piece of shit.

His hand pulled at my dress, the tiny strap snapping in satisfaction as he roughly yanked down my clothing. His mouth on my breast, he licked and nipped with his teeth on the sensitive pink flesh, forcing the throbbing around his fingers to become unbearable. I needed him to fuck me now. I wanted him to fuck me and I told him so.

Impatiently, I unbuttoned his pants and grabbed his dick in desperate tugs, feeling his hardness warm and ready in my hands as Edward clutched at the dress around my waist. The material already tight and strained, I felt the sweet relief as the seam burst along my side. I could breathe, finally, as we froze, shocked at the gaping material.

Edward brought his face close to my side, touching the fabric, his fingers lightly grazing the exposed skin. His fingers on my side reminded me of my need, the craving still pulsating from within, and I urged him to continue.

He kissed my neck, faltering, his mind still consumed with the ripped dress, his fingers digging into the now exposed skin of my torso. Again I begged, asking for more, asking for everything, but he was lost in his head now, consumed with guilt, his loss of control something he didn't handle well.

"Edward, it's okay." I kissed his neck and jaw, trying to reassure him that I wasn't afraid, that I wanted this too, that I needed it now.

"No. It's not okay, Bella. What am I doing? I could have hurt you, I mean, I ripped your fucking dress. What kind of person does that?" Edward had tears in his eyes now and just as I suspected, the guilt was eating at him even though there was no reason for it. I never felt endangered when I was with him and I never feared the bomb. I have only ever felt safe and loved and wanted. How could he think he could be anything else? How could a soul capable of such selflessness, such unconditional love, even house the darkness that Edward feared? I wished I had done things differently, that I hadn't been a coward, that I would have had confidence in the fact that Edward could handle this shit. Because he was handling it pretty fucking well and I had underestimated him. I had doubted him, doubted his love, his commitment, his control. The worst part was that I was sure he had already figured this out and it just made me feel more like shit.

I found myself frustrated and angry that I hadn't conveyed this earlier, that I hadn't been able to stifle his fears, my own self-doubt and fears barring me from fully noticing his. The similarities between Edward and I, our insecurities, our worries, our pain, even our love ran in parallel lines, prohibiting us from truly intersecting. What we needed was a curve or an angle, anything to converge at a single point, a point where we could truly love each other and accept that we could be loved in return. Something had to give and it was my turn to try my hand at selflessness. "Pleasure moves on too early, and trouble leaves too slow..."

I grabbed his shirt and, trying to muster all my conviction, spoke the words he needed to hear. "Edward, you listen to me. Look at my face and you fucking listen to me. You're not going to hurt me. I don't even think that you could. You love me. And I love you. Nothing you ever do is going to change that. We belong together. We're made for each other." And it was true. I knew this wouldn't be the last time I'd have to remind him of this, but I'd tell him this every day for eternity if that's what it took. Every day I spent with Edward I was reminded that I had a match in this world, and it still shocked me to all hell when I'd discover the little nuances of our personalities that fit so perfectly with each other. This…problem, this eating disorder, it was just the pull of the universe, Karma shaking her finger at me. The fact that food was my enemy and Edward lived for it was pretty fucking ironic.

I kissed Edward's eyelids and held his face in my hands, determined to see contentment in his features. "I mean, come on, what are the chances a chef would unknowingly fall in love with a bulimic?" I said, trying to restore the normal, easy exchanges between Edward and I, but his face was laden with emotion, introspective and pensive as he digested my words.

Bulimic, a label for what I was, a label that brought with it certain characteristics and connotations that stupid people who don't know shit about this, this…sickness, make up. I would adopt them all, shallow, self-centered, vain, all the fucked up shit people associate with eating disorders, I would accept them all if it meant that I could be rid of it.

...

EPOV

"Alice knows. Alice knows everything," Bella muttered. I flinched at her words, the betrayal biting. She was anticipating a bad reaction, her body tense and stiff as she said the words. Before I could react further she pleaded, "Please don't be mad at her. Please! I made her promise. A promise between friends, that's all it was, like the Jasper thing. Please Edward? I couldn't live with myself if I knew you were upset with her because of me." But I couldn't react anymore, my mind pressing on other, more important issues. I just nodded, looking into the darkness behind the building.

"But she's the only one, and my mom…and an old friend I had in Phoenix. But that's it," she said quietly.

Bella shivered again and I removed my jacket and placed it around her shoulders, the strap of her dress ripped and the entire side of it torn to shreds. I quickly buttoned and zipped my pants, leaving my shirt untucked, as Bella buttoned her sweater and then pulled the jacket closed, her lacerated dress practically falling off of her. Her face was a mess, black smeared underneath her red, puffy eyes, her hair sticking out on account of her angry tugs. I tried to smooth the damp, stray tangles and she suddenly wrapped her arms around my waist tightly, so tight it was almost uncomfortable.

"I'm so, so sorry Edward. For everything, just everything." I felt Bella crumble around me, her soft body shaking and clutching at my back, and I couldn't fucking stand to see her hurting anymore. She was fucking tearing herself up over this. It didn't really fucking matter, any of it, not in comparison to Bella starving herself. I couldn't even find it within myself to hate Jasper for giving her the pills. My mind was populated and engrossed with questions and plans, fucking theory upon theory about how we were going to fix this, but I needed to do some research first. I needed to talk to Carlisle.

I kissed the top of Bella's head, dreading the fact that I was going to have to go back into that bowling alley and get Alice and Jasper, even though I was sure they had some inkling as to what this whole fucking disaster was about. I opened the car door to help Bella inside, but she didn't budge. She was still trembling and I tried to pull away, but her arms tightened around my waist.

"No!" Bella's voice was tainted with panic as she refused to let me go.

I sighed, "Get in the car Bella. I'm only going to get Alice and Jasper." I tried again to help her into the car but she shook her head and continued to clutch at my middle.

"I'll go with you," Bella mumbled into my chest. I nodded in agreement and we walked towards the bowling alley, Bella continuing to shiver and her teeth now chattering, as I rubbed her arm furiously, hoping the friction would warm her up.

We walked into the building with Bella still fused to my side to find Alice and Jasper seated at one of the lanes by the door. They both stood up as we walked in, Alice's apprehensive eyes flitting furiously between me and Bella. Jasper wouldn't fucking look at us, his hands in his pockets, looking like he wanted to fucking disappear and I couldn't really blame him. I didn't say anything, just motioned it was time to leave and they got the hint. They walked in front of us, Alice glancing back a couple times, trying to figure out what had transpired. As we approached the Volvo, Alice touched the dented hood, her face turning sharply to look at me, questioning and worried. I remained silent, not knowing if I had the mental clarity to speak to her or Jasper yet. I was still trapped in my thoughts and plans, still perplexed as to how I was going to help Bella get better.

I pulled onto the highway, the heater blasting and the inside of the car heavy with tension. Bella was curled up in the front seat gazing out the window, her arms folded around her, holding herself together. She wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand and I knew she was crying, residual tears of contemplation. I reached over to lightly touch her cheek, trying to let her know it was going to be okay. She turned her face to me, slightly smiling, trying to disguise the fear and pain and remorse swirling in her dark pupils.

After about ten minutes of silence my sister had had enough. She sighed loudly, shifting in her seat. I looked in my rearview mirror, her impatient green eyes piercing back at me. And then she spoke.

"Okay, I'm not one for guessing games so let's just get it all out there. The fucking tension is killing me," Alice said, matter-of-factly. I looked over at Bella and she met my gaze with reassurance. She turned towards the back of the car to look at Alice and Jasper.

"He knows, about everything. The pills, the puking, everything," Bella said quietly. She brought her hand to her cheek again, wiping at the slow tears trailing down her face. Jasper looked at me now, cautious and hesitant to speak.

"And? What the fuck happened? Why is there a dent in the hood of your car Edward?" Alice was worried, the stress evident in her tone.

"It's okay, Alice. I lost my temper, but it's fine. I'm okay." I tried to reassure her, looking at her in the rearview mirror again.

"You lost your temper? You dented the hood of your car, Edward! Your temper was a little more than just lost," Alice challenged, her intention to resolve this issue forcing her to press.

"Alright, I freaked out for a minute. Don't you think that was an acceptable reaction? I mean, shit, it's a lot to digest in one night!" I exclaimed, slightly exasperated at her prying. "Fuck, don't you think it's shit that you all knew and I didn't?"

"I didn't know Edward, not until now. Alice told me while you guys were outside," Jasper said suddenly. "I swear. I wouldn't have given her the pills if I would have known, man. I feel like shit, dude, like a total skease." I nodded my head in acceptance. This was enlightening and somewhat satisfying, knowing that I wasn't the only one who didn't know. It made it less of a secret from me and more of a secret from everyone. I still didn't like being lumped in the category of everyone, but it was a start.

"Edward, I didn't tell because, well, Bella's like my sister and I wasn't going to nark on my sister," Alice said quietly.

Bella had turned to face the front again, her gaze fixated on the dials of the dashboard. This couldn't be easy for her, having us all talk about it, about her, like she wasn't sitting right there, listening, feeling every sting, every comment. I reached over to take her hand in mine, offering her my touch in reassurance. She gripped my hand tightly, tears still occasionally rolling down her cheeks, her eyes still on the dash.

I sighed. This was starting to wear on me, the apologies, the excuses, the heartfelt declarations of sisterhood. What had been done was done and I wanted to move forward. I wanted to get home and talk to Carlisle, figure out how bad this shit, this anorexia and bulimia, actually is.

"I told you guys, it's okay. I'm not angry with you guys. Or you," I said softly to Bella, her teary eyes overflowing with fresh tears again. "It's going to be okay," I said just to her, staring into her soul and trying to absorb some of the pain that was lingering there. She inhaled deeply, trying to stifle the sobs, and brought our intertwined hands to her lips, gently kissing the back of my hand.

We were silent after that, each of us contemplative and deliberating the evening's events. The sundaes forgotten, I dropped Jasper off first, Alice getting out of the car with him.

"I'll be home later," Alice said to me, closing the door quietly as she left.

When we got to Bella's house I walked her up to her door.

"Do you want to stay for a while?" she asked me, her eyes tired and drained. I wanted to. I wanted to wrap around her and just lay down and sleep, perfectly entwined and warm and comfortable. But I had work to do.

"Not tonight, Bella. I need to go home." I pulled her to me and kissing her tenderly, placing a slow and gentle declaration upon her lips.

She nodded as she pressed her forehead to mine and whispered, "I understand."

I hugged her tightly, my face burrowed into the white of her neck as I deeply breathed in her lovely scent. "I love you, Bella, so much. Please, promise me you'll take care of yourself, please? If something were to happen…if you were to…" I couldn't finish my thoughts. I was afraid to let her go. Having no knowledge of these diseases, I didn't know what to expect, and I was afraid to have her out of my sight, afraid of what she might do in my absence.

"I promise I'll try," Bella whispered, her soft body frail beneath my arms.

"It's not the same thing," I whispered back, pulling her impossibly closer as my chest swelled, the pressure building and overwhelming as I fucking willed and pleaded internally for her to agree.

"I know," she sobbed, and I cursed myself for making her cry again, for causing her to feel guilt over something which sounded like she couldn't even really control.

"It's okay," I said softly, rubbing her back, my fingers getting caught in her curls. "It's okay, trying is enough." I kissed her forehead, the skin soft against my lips.

Bella nodded, taking a few deep breaths and wiping her face with her hand. "Please believe that I love you Edward, and I truly am sorry for all this." She spoke in quiet whispers, her tired voice hoarse and broken.

"Of course I believe you. I'll call you in the morning, okay?" I kissed her lips again and stood with her as she unlocked the front door and disappeared into the house.

I drove home quickly, anxious to get to Carlisle, anxious to find a solution, anxious as to what I would find out. Really, I was just fucking downright anxious.

I flew into the house, running up the stairs and straight to Carlisle's office. Finding it empty, I checked his bedroom. The door was closed so I knocked, loud and continuous. This couldn't fucking wait until tomorrow, I had to talk to him now.

"Carlisle?" I shouted. "I need your help!" I knocked again. "Carli-" He opened the door, his eyes still heavy from sleep.

"Carlisle, I need to talk to you," I said in a rush, walking to the office and motioning for him to follow. He did, shuffling down the hall in his pajamas, and I realized I hadn't even checked to see what time it was or if my barging in and disturbing his sleep like this was inappropriate.

I walked into his office, pacing in front of his desk while he flipped on the light switch and walked around to sit at his desk. He rubbed his eyes, adjusting to the light, and stared at me for a moment, waiting for me to begin, I suppose.

I didn't know where to start. I just kept pacing, trying to gather my thoughts and figure out exactly how to say this.

"Edward, what's going on?" Carlisle finally asked, his voice stopping me in my tracks.

I sat down in the leather chair, running my hands through my hair and then resting my elbows on my legs, folding my hands between them.

"What do you know about eating disorders?" I finally asked.

"Ah. I was wondering when we would have this conversation." Carlisle folded his hands on his desk.

"You knew?" I asked, confused. What the fuck? "How did you know? Did Alice tell you? Did Bella?"

"I suspected. I'm a doctor. It's my job to notice things like this," he answered quietly.

"Why didn't you say anything?" I pinched the bridge of my nose, my head starting to pound with frustration.

"Would you have listened? I tried to talk to Charlie, he reacted defensively and denied it, claiming he'd know if his daughter had an eating disorder. This was expected. I expected the same from you." I tried to imagine the scenario, Carlisle coming to me and telling me that Bella had a problem eating.

I wanted to deny it, prove him wrong, but I couldn't say for sure I wouldn't have argued. I mean, yeah, she's fucking skinny but I had seen Bella eat lunch dozens of times. I never noticed anything strange, just the mints…the mints! The fucking mints. That's why she was so weird about me asking about them, why she always had them. They were her cover.

"Fuck! Carlisle, how could I have been so blind, so delusional?" I wouldn't have listened to him. I have been so foolishly focused on myself, first on suppressing the bomb and controlling myself and then so submerged and consumed by Bella's love that I had neglected to focus on Bella herself. I had neglected to see how incredibly fragile she is, how thin and malnourished she looks. Sure, I had noticed her prominent bones and her thin figure, but I hadn't really seen them until tonight, until she had said the words.

"Edward, people suffering from eating disorders are highly secretive about their disease because there's a lot of guilt and shame involved. I'm assuming Bella is suffering from anorexia nervosa. Any bulimia?" Carlisle was in clinical mode, the doctor questioning the patient, only I wasn't the one he should be questioning this time.

"What's the difference? She pukes when she eats but she got tired of puking so she just started not eating. She said she can't really even control it, like it's taken over or something. She said she was getting better, that she would try to get better," I told him, hoping that if he understood, if he knew every detail, he'd know just what to do, like there was some fucked up flow chart for getting rid of eating disorders. "What exactly does this all mean? I'm so clueless when it comes to this shit." I felt so lost, shrouded in darkness, just stumbling and bumbling around looking for the damn light switch.

"They are complex diseases. They stem from complex psychological and biological causes and are real illnesses, Edward, with real symptoms." Carlisle paused, apprehensive to continue.

"What symptoms? Just tell me, please? I need to know what the hell I'm up against," I pleaded, needing the facts, the reality of what Bella was doing to herself.

Carlisle rambled off a laundry list of symptoms, ranging from yellowing skin and decaying tooth enamel to kidney disorders and gastroesophageal reflux, but something Carlisle said captured my awareness, stifling my breathing and causing my stomach to burn with terror.

Heart failure.

The thought of Bella's straining heart, a heart whose beat I yearned for, where I found solace and peace, her very life force failing forced the air from my lungs and caused my vision to blur. I knew what the very blackest of consequences would be. I squeezed my eyes shut trying to block it out but I couldn't stop the vision from appearing in my mind. Bella, still and lifeless, her skin white and no longer flush with pink and her full lips tainted blue.

Hollow, failed, gone.

"Carlisle, how do we help her? I mean, can it be helped?" I choked out, cutting him off mid-sentence and frantically searching his face, looking for a hint of hope or something, anything that would tell me that I could make Bella healthy. I clutched at my chest, the pain fuming in my heart, and I felt the tick, tick, tick of a once silenced threat. Stone cold Bella still brimmed in my head and behind my eyes each time they closed, but I found assurance at least in knowing this explosion detonated by Bella's failed heart would also bring the end of me.

"Of course her disease can be treated, Edward. From a physician's stand point, I could recommend many kinds of treatments. But you are not the patient, Edward. You are family, like a son to me, so I am going to give you advice from a father's point of view." Carlisle rose and moved to sit beside me in the other leather chair.

"You can be the nurturing and caring person that I know you already are, and you can show her love and care and friendship. Be honest with her and tell her how you feel, allowing her the freedom to be honest back. Share with her your love of cooking and teach her about nutrition. Meet her setbacks with concern rather than judgment so that she will feel comfortable sharing them with you rather than wallowing in secrecy."

"This is what you can do, Edward. Bella needs to do the rest herself and it's futile to force her into it. Please, believe me when I say that she has to be ready and willing to deal with this. You can't be willing enough for the both of you."

I nodded, letting Carlisle's words sink in and contemplating if Bella was ready and willing to deal with this. I was already committed, orbiting this fucked up universe we were stuck in with her at my side, and I would offer her all of me, letting go of myself and allowing her to pull me into her core. I would give it all to her, even if all we were left with was a fucking black hole.

"If you need anything or if Bella wants to talk to a doctor, please let me know. I'm here for you Edward, as your family first." He placed his hand upon my shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Thank you, Carlisle. I'm sorry I had to wake you," I mumbled, not feeling as confident as I would have liked, but resolved in the prospect that I could help Bella - failure was not an option.

But there was one more thing I needed to know and attempting to sleep while this question festered in my brain would be futile. I left the office and walked down the stairs, taking a seat in one of the paisley upholstered chairs in the entryway to wait.

I sat in the dark, stone and still as a marble statue, until I heard the key in the door and saw the small, spiky-haired silhouette in the door frame.

The door clicked shut and she turned around, gasping and clutching her chest. "Edward?" she breathed, her small body trembling from fright. "What the fuck are you doing? You scared the shit out of me!"

"Alice, I need you to get your cards."

"I can't, Edward," Alice said quietly. "They're not properly seasoned."

"Then get your old deck," I countered, my voice low and demanding. I was too fucking tired to argue with her about this shit.

"Now? It's like, two in the morning. I'll do it tomorrow, I promise." Alice started to walk upstairs.

"No! Alice, fuck!" I shouted, causing Alice to stop. "It has to be now. Please, Alice. Please?"

She was silent, her eyes staring into the darkness of the hallway. "I thought you didn't believe in any of this shit." Alice's voice trembled with an uncertainty I'd rarely heard.

"Please, Alice," I whispered, desperate.

She sighed and pulled the silk bundle out of her small black beaded purse. "Alright, but I'm only pulling three cards."

"That's fine," I said, as Alice walked into the living room and turned on the light. She sat on the couch, spreading the silk material onto the table. After shuffling the cards she spread them onto the scarf and raked through them with her fingers, mixing and turning, and then pushing them into an orderly stack. She held the cards in her hand, motioning for me to sit down and I obeyed, taking a seat on the couch next to her.

She sighed, her little hands trembling as she gripped the deck. "Are you going to ask a question?"

"You know what I want to know, Alice," I muttered, smoothing my hair with my fingers.

"Yeah, I guess I do. Okay, this first card represents the past." Alice flipped a card and placed it carefully on the silk scarf and I heard her sigh in relief. "The ten of wands. You've taken all the blame, shouldered this burden. Edward, it hasn't been easy."

Truth ringing in her every word, I thought of how fucking difficult everything was. It truly did seem that the odds were stacked against me. Why couldn't I fucking get a break here?

Alice continued, placing the second card next to the first. She muttered something under her breath then inhaled sharply as she placed the card on the scarf. "Temperance. This card shows us the present, what we have and what we need right now. Healing, she's healing, Edward, and we need to combine our forces. We need to come together to help her."

"I know, Alice. I've already talked to Carlisle," I told her. Alice nodded, taking a deep breath.

"The future, Edward. This card represents the future." Alice closed her eyes and placed the card on the silk before looking at it. She opened her eyes slowly, a look of confusion in her creased forehead. "Eight of cups…umm, it's some kind of journey of discovery, finding the facts. Could be going on a trip or walking away, tired, giving up. Or it could be releasing from a cycle, disentangling yourself from a pattern and focusing on what's important. I don't know, Edward. I don't know what it means."

I nodded, the cards ambiguously taunting me with their dual meaning. The cards hadn't told me shit that I didn't already know. I don't really know what I was expecting and my desperation for answers was making me look like a damn fool. I wasn't going to wait around and see which future was going to happen. The future isn't set in stone. It can change and I would change it.

I said goodnight to Alice, leaving her mulling over the cards, and I walked the stairs to my room. Exhausted but reeling with ideas, I fell onto my bed, not even taking the time to change. As I lay in bed, trying to force the cards from my brain, I began to calculate and devise my new plan, a plan for a changed future.

Plan Make Bella Well.

…

BPOV

I pulled the toasted bread out of the oven and used a brush to coat the crouton with the garlic and olive oil mixture Edward had given me. Edward was finishing up his wild mushroom reduction on the stovetop, moving out of my way as I utilized the oven. The beef tenderloin, seared and covered in rosemary and thyme, was resting on the counter waiting to be carved. Edward frantically whisked the mushroom mixture in the skillet, wiping his brow with a towel and reducing the heat of the burner. I was responsible for the bruschetta, the chopped tomatoes and onions marinating in garlic, olive oil and basil for the last hour.

"It's best if you spoon it on while the bread is still warm," Edward said to me, a small smile on his lips. He had concocted a full five course meal for the graduation party and since Rosalie and Jasper had gone to school with Emmett since kindergarten, it was only fitting to have a joint dinner party. He'd been planning for a month, trying out various recipes, reading magazines and website after website before deciding on bruschetta, Caesar salad, seared beef tenderloin with asparagus and a wild mushroom reduction, which I learned is just a fancy way of saying sauce, wild mushroom risotto, which is just a fancy way of saying rice, and strawberry cheesecake for dessert.

This dinner party was kind of a big deal. First of all, it's not every day the only son of the town's chief surgeon graduates from high school. Graduation was on Saturday and Emmett would be leaving for college in September. Even though he had elected to live on campus, he had decided to stay close, enrolling at Washington State University. Rosalie had decided to go with him and she would be living in an apartment that her dad had leased for her. Mr. and Mrs. Hale, who were apparently prominent figures of Forks' high society, would be gracing us with their presence this evening.

Charlie was going to eat with us as well. He'd been doing really well with his diet, from what I could tell, and this was kind of like his reward. I mean, I didn't follow him around or anything, but I'd been cooking Edward's meals for him and I even saw him in his bedroom doing some of the exercises Edward had taught him one night.

In seeing Charlie make these attempts, I had made an attempt to eat dinner with him every night. I'm not going to say that I hadn't purged since my promise to Edward, because that wouldn't be true, but I was trying.

It was easier when I was with Edward, focused on our conversations during lazy evenings spent intertwined on my bed. We'd listen to music, or rather, have music playing in the background while we explored each other, hands and mouths and naked feet, quiet love under my comforter and just euphoric and completely whole in our interactions. It was on those late nights, after Edward had left and I was alone with my thoughts and submerged in my insecurities and fears that the compulsion crept back into me. "The bed's too big, the frying pan's too wide…"

I hardly ever purged at school anymore, but then again I rarely ate an entire meal. Sometimes I would eat small amounts of the lunch that Edward would bring for me, appeasing the promise, and only when I actually felt the pangs of hunger twist in my belly would I eat a full meal. Sometimes I would eat nothing at all, enduring smug looks from Rosalie as I sat, empty and void, while the others filled themselves. I knew that Edward hadn't told Emmett or Rosalie about my problem, but I couldn't be sure how much they really knew. Sometimes, the way Rosalie looked at me, I could have sworn she knew everything.

Edward had been really good about letting me try to find a way to get better on my own. He knew an awful lot about food and, even more surprisingly, he sounded knowledgeable about eating disorders. I'm sure this had something to do with the fact he lived with a doctor, but it was a little intimidating. At first, he would randomly quote all these statistics, shit from websites he'd visited, I'm sure, because I'd also visited all the same sites. When I didn't respond to this, he started talking to me about nutrition, how many calories a body needs to sustain normal function, which foods provide the best fuel. I was actually pretty interested in this, the chemical and physiological aspects of it all, but then I caught him counting my calories. He was writing everything I ate into a spiral notebook and I just felt so violated, so discounted. I threw a fit, telling him that he was treating me like a child and that he should have talked to me first and that this was a violation of his confidence in me. He hadn't done it since, but I know he's an excellent mathematician and could just be keeping track in his head.

Now, he let me eat when I wanted to and didn't scoff or whine when I didn't. Even though he was scared and unsure, Edward never faltered. I found great peace in him knowing the whole me and in knowing that he wanted to love the whole me. It was a freedom that I hadn't expected to affect me so deeply, a freedom that allowed me to feel hope. A hope that burned in Edward's eyes as well, every time he held my hand at lunch when he knew the compulsion was pulling at me or when he stayed with me until I fell asleep at night, because he knew how hard it was to resist when he was gone. Every time he allowed me to act like an emotional infant, kissing my head and telling me how beautiful I was, despite the ugliness in my self-loathing attitude, I felt his hope for me, for us. Wrapped in this hope, we were happy, free from our binding secrets and able to love each other as equals, pure and soothing to each other's insecurities.

Food was becoming less and less the defining factor of my day, but it was still very much in the forefront of my brain. Tonight, it was everything. I'd been helping Edward prepare dinner all day, boiling and broiling, chopping and carving, the preparations almost as extensive as the cooking of the meal. Edward's talent for flavors was unparalleled, and it also wasn't so bad watching him taste everything, his little pinky dipping into every sauce and then into his mouth, tasting, evaluating and calculating, his fucking black apron wrapped around his body. Watching his finger disappear into his mouth, in that fucking apron nonetheless, made my stomach growl, hungry to feel his lips on my skin.

I had dressed the large dining room table, going with a very classic black and white theme, typical of graduation. The guests were all gathered in the front living room now and I spread the toasted bread onto the serving platter, spooning the tomato mixture onto each slice. Edward scooped the risotto into a large dish and covered it with a lid. He began sharpening his carving knife, the beef tenderloin on the cutting board in front of him.

"You know I'm not going to eat that, right?" I said, preparing him so he wasn't surprised at dinner.

"I know, everyone thinks you're a vegetarian," he said, his knife swiftly carving the meat into even, thin slices and placing them onto a large dish.

"I am a vegetarian. I haven't eaten meat in over two years," I countered, taking the mushroom sauce and pouring it over the slightly pink slices.

"You can eat the risotto. There's no meat in that," Edward said, getting the salad from the fridge and shaking the glass bottle of homemade dressing. "But this does. Anchovies." He shook the dressing at me as I wrinkled my nose, carrying the platter of bruschetta and salad into the dining room, placing them on the table.

"Do you guys need help?" Alice's harmonious voice chimed behind me. I turned to face her and shock immediately invaded my face. She looked so...normal. She was wearing a simple black dress, her legs covered in nylon, and black Mary Jane heels. Her hair was combed to the side and her face glowed with a light dusting of makeup. I hardly recognized her.

"Shut up," she said, responding to the look on my face.

"What? I didn't say anything," I laughed.

"I know, but you were going to. Please tell me you need help. If I have to hear his mother tell one more story about her fucking lap dog, I'm going to kill her. Like, there will be blood and I will probably go to prison," Alice said, following me into the kitchen.

"Wait. Are you going to kill his mom or the dog? Or both?" I asked her, a look of feigned contemplation upon my face.

"Who are we killing?" Edward asked, placing the rest of the mushroom sauce in a small gray boat. Alice giggled, taking the Risotto into the dining room and I followed with two bottles of wine and serving utensils. Edward carried in the tenderloin and placed it onto the table.

"Okay, that's it. Alice, go tell them to come eat," Edward said, taking off his black apron and tossing it onto his chair, revealing a white button-up shirt over dark, worn jeans. How he managed to keep his shirt so clean and crisp while cooking was a mystery. I always ended up a mess after cooking, my clothing stained and splattered and this time I had managed to get a good rip in there somehow. Luckily, I had brought a change of clothes, jeans and a black velvet tank top I had recently found in one of mine and Alice's thrift store shopping extravaganzas.

Alice scowled. "Why don't you go tell them? You're the cook, remember? Isn't that, like, cooking etiquette or something? I think I saw that on Top Chef last night."

"Hey, they're your future in-laws. Don't you want to bond with them?" Edward said, placing a spoon into the risotto and a serving fork by the beef.

"No! I can hardly stand them. They make my skin crawl." Alice shuddered and then sighed. "Alright! Fine. I'll do it, but only because you made cheesecake." She began to slowly drag her feet out of the room.

"Oh! Alice, is Charlie here yet?" I asked. He would be coming from work and I knew that this sometimes made him unavoidably late.

"Not yet. It's barely six though. The Hales are early." She rolled her eyes as if their punctuality had offended her personally and left the room to go inform the guests.

Edward was standing behind me and as soon as Alice disappeared, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back into him, his hands moving over my shirt and groping my chest, and his lips on my neck, decorating the skin with slow and sensual adorations.

"Edward, they'll be in here any minute," I said breathlessly, lifting my hand behind me to tangle through his hair.

"I've been wanting to do this all fucking day," he licked my neck, slow and sensual, still massaging my breasts. I melted into him, pushing my backside into his groin as one hand moved to clutch my hip.

"Oh my fucking God, are you kidding me?" a voice muttered, stopping at the sight of Edward's squeezing and fondling hands.

Rosalie had walked into the room, disgusted and beautiful as always. Edward quickly dropped his hands. Startled and completely fucking embarrassed, I covered my face with mine, the slow blush creeping and burning on my ears and neck. She was wearing a sleeveless plum sweater and black pencil skirt that clung and curved to her voluptuous shape just too fucking perfectly, her blond curls hanging in glossy waves, and I wanted to curl up and die from humiliation.

Emmett was right behind her, chanting "I love beef" or some other nonsense, and moved past her to park himself directly in front of the tenderloin in the center of the table. He was followed by whom I could only presume were Mr. and Mrs. Hale. Mr. Hale looked exactly how I imagined an investment banker would look, starched black suit and shiny black shoes. His gray hair was parted and smoothed, the very essence of decorum and pomp, not a wrinkle, not a smudge, not a hair out of place. He moved past me, a quick nod as he passed, and moved to take a seat opposite Emmett at the long table. His wife carried a rather large goblet of red wine, her manicured nails pressing against the lipstick stained glass as she maneuvered past us in her pointy heels. Not unlike Rosalie, her flowing blond hair curled around her shoulders, her cream blouse fitting to her shapely figure set in long chocolate slacks, and I wondered how she hadn't tripped in her heels and wide leg pants. A couple more glasses of wine and this lady was going to be a death trap.

Mrs. Hale took her seat next to her husband, unfolding her napkin into her lap and folding her hands on top of it. Carlisle, bright and airy in his linens and polo, took a seat next to Mr. Hale, the perfect host set to entertain his guests. Esme followed, her long floral dress dancing around her bare feet, and I wanted to hug her for that shit, for offering a little piece of comfort and ease to offset the general air of anal retentiveness that oozed from the Hales. She took her seat next to Mrs. Hale and Rosalie followed to sit next to her.

Alice and Jasper trailed in last. Jasper was the very depiction of resentment and discontent. His hair twisted around his face in messy tangles, his dark jeans paired with a psychedelic t-shirt, the dancing bears and skeletons blurring into the spectrum of splashed colors. He wore his brown velvet jacket and looked completely misplaced amongst his family. He sat as far from them as possible, between Alice and Edward, Charlie's empty chair and Carlisle serving as a buffer, and I seated myself between Alice and Emmett.

"Well, this looks simply divine, Esme. What a beautiful spread you've got here," Mrs. Hale gushed as she sipped her wine, her red collagen lips pressed into the glass.

"Oh no, this is all Edward's doing. He is a very talented cook," Esme smiled at Edward as he looked down, the compliment causing him to shy away from the conversation. I smiled too, wishing I could have sat next to him so I could hold his hand or whisper all the smart-ass jokes that were tumbling through my brain.

Everyone filled their plates, taking heady portions for themselves and commenting on all the rich aromas emanating from Edward's creations. I noticed Mrs. Hale chose her portions carefully, almost calculating how much of each dish she could eat. As Rosalie spooned her risotto, Mrs. Hale tapped her arm around Esme and Rosalie removed some of the mixture from her plate. I found this interaction interesting. I mean, yeah, Rosalie is a bitch, but she's a fucking adult. She should be able to eat what she wants.

I loaded my plate with salad, opting to withhold from the anchovy dressing, and self consciously scooped a small amount of risotto onto my plate. Taking a deep breath, I brought the mushroom and rice mixture to my mouth, inhaling the delicious, organic smell, and tasting the mixture of flavors. It was absolutely remarkable how Edward could create such blends of flavors, the woodsy, almost nutty flavor of the mushroom mixed with the grain and seasoned with herbs to create a delectable assortment.

I looked up to notice Mrs. Hale watching me eat, a look of wonder upon her face. She smiled a curt grin as our eyes met, hers overwhelmed with shadow and mascara.

"You're Charlie Swan's daughter? Isabella? Is that right?" Mrs. Hale asked me and I nodded, my mouth full of mushroom while frantically trying to swallow.

"How is Charlie? I hear he's been having a rough time?" she pressed, her lips pouting in the fakest form of concern I'd ever seen in my life.

"He's great. He should be here any minute," I answered, taking another large bite in an attempt to force an end to the conversation.

Apparently this bitch was a bit thick because she just kept on talking. "What's your mother's name again? I can't seem to remember her but I do remember when she left. It was all anyone could talk about for weeks." She frowned in contemplation and I wanted to punch her in her fake smug face.

Alice dropped her fork, a loud clang against the porcelain plate, and stood up. "Bella, can you help me get some water for everyone?" Thankful for the distraction, I nodded and followed Alice out of the room quickly.

"Oh my God, I hate her. What the fuck is her problem? She's on her third glass of wine, you know." The whispered words flew from Alice's mouth as soon as we were out of earshot.

"Well, now I see where Rosalie gets it. How did Jasper get out unscathed?" I asked, filling glasses with ice as Alice filled them with water.

"Oh, believe me, he's scathed. They're so self-righteous and judgmental, and they think the sun shines out of Rosalie's ass, which isn't her fault. It just adds a lot of pressure, you know?" Alice took a step away from the counter, taking deep breaths. "Okay, I'm ready." She grabbed as many glasses as she could carry and I was about to do the same when a chime rang out through the house and then a knock at the door.

"Charlie," I said to Alice. She nodded and I went to answer the door.

Charlie was still dressed in his work clothes, slacks and a button-up shirt now that he sat at a desk all day. "Hey," I said as he walked in the door.

"Am I too late? I tried to leave but goddamn bullshit always seems to pile up on my desk at the last minute," he said.

"It's fine. We just started eating." He followed me to the kitchen and I handed him a couple waters, and then grabbed a few more myself. We entered the dining room to find the group engaged in discussion, graduation and college occupying everyone's thoughts.

"Charlie! We're so glad you could make it!" Charlie set the waters on the table as Esme got up to hug him. Carlisle stood, shaking his hand and motioning to the chair next to him.

"Ah, I wouldn't miss it," Charlie responded. "How are you liking those Mariners?"

"I'd like them a lot better if they started winning more games," Carlisle chuckled, settling back into his seat as Charlie sat down. I placed the glasses on the table and took my seat as Charlie greeted Mr. Hale, shaking his hand and waving to his wife. Shit, everyone really did know everyone in Forks.

"We were just discussing how long it's been since we've seen you Charlie!" Mrs. Hale exclaimed. Really? Is that what she was trying to say earlier? "How are you feeling?"

"Great actually, never better," Charlie answered, portioning out his food. I almost told him to put some of the beef back but then I remembered Mrs. Hale and the fucking shoulder tapping and stopped myself. It was just one meal, his reward actually. I would let him have his beef, just for tonight. Tomorrow he'd be back on the list.

"Would you have guessed twelve years ago when we met on that playground that our babies would be graduating and going off to college together? Pretty soon, we'll be hearing wedding bells," Mrs. Hale said to Esme. Her voice was high and sickly sweet. I was pretty sure she was stifling the urge to talk baby talk.

"It is pretty amazing," Esme responded. "I just can't believe you guys will be high school graduates in a week. A week! And then college…it's all gone by so fast."

"What are you going to study there, Emmett?" Charlie asked, taking a bite of his risotto.

"Sports Medicine, Sir. You know, be a trainer or coach or something. I want to work with the professionals. I gotta get on that field somehow." Emmett shrugged his shoulders and shoved another forkful of meat into his mouth.

"I hear you," Charlie chuckled. "How about you, Rosalie? Any plans for college?"

Rosalie looked up, a little startled Charlie had addressed her. She put her fork down slowly. "Um, yes. I'll be attending Washington State as well in the fall."

"Rose is going to major in finance," Mrs. Hale chimed in, the effects of her wine now kicking in. "Just like her father. She's got a naturally mathematical mind. You know, she almost got a perfect score on the math section of the SAT's. She could have gone to any college she wanted but she chose to stay here in Washington. I would have been on the next plane out of here!" she snorted, her wine sloshing in the glass in her hand as she spoke.

"Mom, I said I might major in finance." Rosalie turned to speak directly to Charlie now. "I've been kind of looking into some kind of engineering degree."

"Wow, engineering. Sounds tough," Charlie responded.

"It is tough, but that's what I love about it. It's like a huge puzzle, keeps me challenged," Rosalie said enthusiastically. I think this was the most excited I'd ever seen her.

"Rose, we decided finance would be best. We already discussed this. Let's not fight at the pretty party, okay?" Mrs. Hale said to her daughter as she downed the rest of her wine. Shit! I thought Rosalie was going to fly off the fucking handle. I kept waiting for her to blow up or say something snarky to her mom, but Rose just folded her hands in her lap and nodded, subdued and submissive, like a scolded puppy. Her eyes glazed over and she stared at her plate, forgetting the rest of her dinner and completely tuned out.

Mr. Hale, who had remained silent until now, took this opportunity to offer his commentary. "Someone has to carry on the family name," he said to Carlisle pointedly. The table had gone quiet, tension settling in the room and inhibiting our conversation. "It's the judgment of the moon and stars…"

Alice was fuming beside me, her leg bouncing up and down and causing the table to shake. She was clutching Jasper's arm and I realized that for a moment, I had completely forgotten that Jasper was graduating too, that this was his family too, and I was struck with the fact that his parents had pretty much completely ignored his existence here tonight. I felt a sudden kinship with Jasper, his face stone, mirroring the glare of his sister. I understood the pain of this indifference, how horrible it was to feel completely alone in this world, an outcast in your own family.

Alice looked like she wanted to reach across the table and slap the shit out his parents and for a brief moment, I thought she might. Instead she turned to Charlie and said, "Did you know that Rosalie has a twin brother? He's an excellent musician, an artist really. Did you know that he got accepted to the Cornish College of the Arts in Seattle? Yeah, it's one of the best schools in the nation and only has, like, eight hundred students and he could have been one of them but his asshole parents don't think that's a 'viable career choice'. They don't want to pay for his 'pipe dreams' of becoming a famous rock star, because apparently that's all you can fucking do with a degree in music. So you know what he did? He got a job at a music supply store so he can save up to go to school, even though his mother blows enough money on plastic surgery and chemical peels to educate a small army."

Shock stilled the air. Nobody breathed, nobody moved. Mr. and Mrs. Hale were stunned as Alice turned her tirade to them. "How can you do this to your children? You both disgust me." She turned to Rose now, "Rose if you want to be an engineer, you be a fucking engineer. Don't let these idiots tell you what to do. That's not who you are."

Finally, she turned to a stunned Jasper, standing up and grabbing his hand. "Come on, I need to get out of this fucking dress."

Jasper allowed Alice to pull him up, chuckling at the fact that his tiny girlfriend had just called his parents assholes and then practically told them she was going to get naked in front of him. They left the room, hand in hand, and stomped up the stairs to Alice's room.

The room was silent, Esme and Carlisle exchanged weary looks and Edward smiled at me, amusement in his eyes. He was fucking loving this shit, I'm sure. He loved it when assholes got called out, especially in front of a room full of people. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Rosalie slowly bring her hand to her cheek, wiping away a single tear. I turned to look at her and for a moment, a split second, I saw something in her that was vulnerable and real, something sad and lonely and hurt, just like the rest of us. She straightened in her chair and just like that, it was gone, her face once again cold and sneering, but I wouldn't forget that expression. I wouldn't forget that I had seen something imperfect in Rose's supposed perfection.

...

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A/N

Joni Lyrics Referenced:

All I Want

I Think I Understand

Down to You

My Old Man

Judgment of the Moon and Stars

Umm, raise your hand if you love Alice! I do! I do!

Let's chat, lovelies!