It was a little odd how three people could manage to have an entire conversation with their eyes alone, and somehow understand everything the other person was attempting to convey.

This was Alice, Emmett, and I when Esme came home at nine.

She leaned her elbows on the island, picking at the leftover meal I had cooked for Emmett and Alice while she had been working late, and the room was entirely silent. It wasn’t an eerie or uncomfortable silence, but more like… the calm after the storm kind of silence. Maybe Esme was intuitive about this type of silence because she tossed me a small grin and asked, “Is everything okay?”

There’s that ‘okay’ word again.

I nodded and attempted a forced smile which only made her more curious about the tense atmosphere of the room. Then she began covertly drilling Emmett and Alice for details of their day. Emmett sent Alice a glance that clearly showed his anxiety over lying to her, and Alice offered my panicked expression an easing smile while she attempted to distract Esme with her AP History practice test grade. Emmett gazed at me apologetically, and I smiled in thanks as Alice stole the show and performed flawlessly.

Esme didn’t have a clue what was going on.

The call from the school about my abrupt disappearance was more or less inevitable, but it was obvious she hadn’t received it yet because she looked unusually chipper. Yes, chipper. Ever since the evening of Edward’s birthday she had been withdrawn and sullen, so seeing her chipper was a rather big deal for Alice and me.

I might have shown more interest, but my head was somewhere else entirely—mostly next door with Edward, and I was tossing Emmett the occasional glare because he shouldn’t be here with me. Edward was over there all alone, save for Carlisle, of whom I had serious doubts of being anything but a nuisance to Edward given the state I’d left his house in.

The all consuming guilt of my actions once again swelled within me as I whipped my cookie dough and blocked out the voices behind me. I couldn’t find the energy to pretend everything was “okay,” and I certainly couldn’t handle the explosion from Esme when she learned about my skipping class. To go see Edward. To victimize Edward. To have sex with Edward.

Before she finally excused herself from the kitchen, she came to my side and whispered low in my ear, “It’s too late to do it this evening, but tomorrow you and I are going to have a discussion.”

My whole body froze, the cookie sheet only half filled with the Desecrated Marzipan Delicacies as I realized my original assumption was clearly wrong. She knew. She must have known, and this discussion was going to be so unpleasant that it had to wait until morning. I listened to her exit the kitchen without meeting her gaze. She would have surely seen the panic in my eyes, and I was positive that was her intention all along. Making me wait and stew in my anxiety until she decided to punish me further.

Could this day get any worse?

The tense atmosphere of the room seemed to escalate after she left, and the three of us did not speak as we waited for the cookies to bake. Alice asked me about the afternoon’s events only once before realizing that it wasn’t something I was willing to discuss just yet.

Emmett knew.

That much was obvious from the second he’d walked through the door and used his big brown eyes to scan every inch of my visible skin. He had made himself comfortable and refused to leave for some reason unknown to me, so I’d simply made him dinner and welcomed the distraction.

I was wondering how long he could possibly stay?

We were all three sitting at the dark granite counter island in our respective stools, Emmett farthest away from me on the end, and Alice at my side, fidgeting uselessly with clear Ziploc bags and spatulas when three things occurred simultaneously. First, the timer buzzed loudly on the stovetop. The cookies were done baking. Second, Esme’s cell phone went off in her purse beside the microwave, a grating ring tone programmed specifically to Dr. Cullen. Finally, there were three sharp and loud raps on the front door that could be heard even in the kitchen over the timer and the cell phone.

The silence was so abruptly damaged that it made me flinch as I sprinted to the stove and quickly turned off the timer and the oven. Esme’s cell phone kept ringing as she attended to the visitors at the front door, and I narrowed my eyes at her black purse in annoyance before she finally raced into the kitchen to answer it. She was slightly out of breath as she answered Dr. Cullen’s call with a smile and relaxed against the counter.

I watched in a stealth curiosity and returned to my seat as they spoke, assuming that Edward had been caught skipping class too and growing horrified at the notion of him being in more trouble. As Dr. Cullen spoke, Esme’s smile slowly fell and her eyes immediately darted to mine and widened.

Shit.

I quickly shifted my gaze to my lap, fingering the hem of my hoodie and wishing there was a hole nearby for me to crawl into and die. The appalled and heartbroken expression on Esme’s face must have meant that they knew everything.

Before I could even muster up the appropriate level of alarm, two figures entered the kitchen. I was taken aback as Jasper and Rosalie met my shocked gaze with smiles and gracefully strode to their partners’ sides.

My brows furrowed in confusion as I fought to pay attention to everything surrounding me.

“Right now? Can’t it wait until—” Esme paused and bit on the inside of her cheek absently as she held the phone to her ear. “Should I do it?” she whispered, and I suddenly noticed Jasper and Rosalie speaking lowly into Alice and Emmett’s ears.

The hell is going on?

I tuned Esme out to focus on the exchange between my four friends and grew alarmed as Alice’s face paled and she met my gaze. Emmett didn’t seem as affected by whatever Rose told him, and she took a seat at his side, smiling at me warmly.

“Oh, cookies!” she exclaimed brightly and smelled the air. “Almond, right?” she asked while lacing her arm through Emmett’s, one blonde brow quirked up in curiosity. This was weird. Rosalie never gave a crap about cookies. I had just opened my mouth to panic more verbally when Esme snapped her phone shut and turned to me.

Her eyes briefly connected to everyone else’s and I felt like I was being left out of some huge secret. It was pissing me off. “Bella, I think that—” Esme began, then paused to shake her head, as if she needed to start over. “What I mean is that maybe…” she trailed off and the other four people in the room were looking everywhere but at me.

With a sigh, Esme walked behind me and grasped my shoulders, silently asking me to leave the stool. I obeyed, and when she turned me around and led me to the kitchen window, I became impossibly more confused. Before I could grow annoyed and ask her what the hell was going on, my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the back yard, and I could clearly make out a form in the gazebo.

“Go” was all she said, and I didn’t wait for any further indication of allowance as I sprung for the door and swung it open. It was too good to be true, and somewhere in the back of my mind I realized this as I crossed the yard. Esme would have never let me leave the house so late—to see Edward, of all people, but I was trying to avoid the nagging sensation of foreboding as I approached the gazebo.

Edward was sitting on his side of the bench as I hesitantly took mine. He was wearing his jacket, and he offered me a small smile as he folded his arms on the table—laying his cheek on his arms facing me. He was tired, and it showed. I was thankful for the darkness of night because I couldn’t see his injuries.

I stared at him anxiously as he fixed his gaze to the wooden table. I was dying to close the distance between us, but I knew I couldn’t, so I mimicked his pose, and laid my cheek on my arms. Mostly, I felt stupid, and the sounds of the river were lulling me into a far too relaxed state given the circumstances.

“Emmett once had a really disgusting infatuation with reggae,” he abruptly whispered, meeting my gaze and grinning crookedly.

Avoidance.

It was frustrating, and I wasn’t in the mood to play games. But if this was what Edward needed—for now —then I would give it to him.

I returned his grin tightly. “Reggae music isn’t so bad,” I defended quietly with a shrug while I memorized the lines of his face in the darkness.

He rolled his eyes and began picking at the wood with his fingers. “The music I could stand, but that fucker had to wear those ugly rainbow caps and everything,” he grumbled while I reflexively snorted at the mental image his comment created.

The whole avoidance thing was making my chest feel lighter, so I continued. “Alice’s first wet dream was of Freddy Krueger,” I offered appreciatively, and his back rose and fell with his soft laughter. He looked much better than when I left him on the balcony, and I was endlessly relieved as I relaxed my cheek into my arms and bathed in his amusement. This wasn’t so bad. Maybe everything could be salvaged, and Edward didn’t feel toward me what I felt toward Phil.

Secretly, this had been a festering panic since I left his house.

“I’m not shocked,” he admitted after his laughter subsided with a shrug. We spent a few moments gazing into one another’s eyes. He still looked so exhausted, and for a moment, I allowed myself to imagine that it was November again, and we were sharing our friends’ most sordid embarrassments to keep each other awake.

Good times.

“Jasper had his tongue pierced, and it got so infected and gross that he almost had to have surgery.” He offered, quirking an eyebrow. This really didn’t surprise me much either.

“Alice said that Rosalie wet the bed until she was twelve,” I countered, and he grimaced, finally sitting up and shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Everyone knows that, Bella.” He shook his head, still grinning lightly as he fished something out of his pocket and began fidgeting with it absently. “It’s a fucking miracle the name “Pee-Pee-Rosalie” didn’t stick with her after Junior High,” he mused distractedly. I couldn’t see the object as he passed it from hand to hand, but I caught a brief glimpse of shimmer from the scant moonlight.

I sat up with a sigh. Avoidance time was over.

“What’s going on, Edward?” I whispered dreadfully, and the mirth that was present in his eyes vanished entirely. He began chewing his lip and bouncing his knee beneath the table without meeting my gaze as I observed his anxious behavior warily.

I allowed him as much time as I could possibly bear. He stared at his hands intently for many moments, playing with the shiny object as the sounds of the river made everything appear so peaceful. It was a lie. The avoidance was a lie, and I wanted to know what the hell was going on.

Before I could completely lose it and snap at him impatiently, he sighed long and agonized, dropping his forehead to the wood of the table in surrender. “I’m so fucking tired, Bella,” he admitted quietly without raising his head. His voice was so thick with pain and defeat that I decided, middle-ground gazebo rules no longer applied.

I tried to scoot cautiously to his side but ended up flying over the distance between us and grasping his shoulders in the tightest hug I could possibly manage. He stiffened momentarily but eventually relaxed and lifted an arm to snake around my waist.

I didn’t deserve any of his affection, truth be told. I had hurt him over and over again, and I wasn’t even worthy of his polite conversation—let alone his tenderness. But he squeezed me tightly to his side, finally raising his head and planting a kiss on my temple before nuzzling his nose into my hair softly. It made me feel impossibly worse.

I opened my mouth with the intention of apologizing once again. I would have said it a million times, and it still wouldn’t have made up for any of it, but apologies were all I had. Phil never once apologized. Maybe this made me less of a monster. If he was willing to forgive me, then maybe eventually, I could forgive myself. Unfortunately, I never had the opportunity.

“I’m leaving,” he mumbled into my hair, stroking it softly down my back with his fingers.

I blinked in confusion, gazing out over the river and trying to understand his words. Leaving. “You decided to move out?” I frowned. It made sense. If he had been caught skipping class then he and Carlisle likely had another falling out. I couldn’t expect him to stay in such an uncomfortable environment for my sake alone. It was upsetting, but I reasoned that it really wouldn’t change much.

I was going to assure him that I wouldn’t make good on my threat to seek therapy until I felt him shake his head.

“Not exactly,” he admitted, finally lifting his face from my hair to meet my gaze. My frown deepened as I pivoted my body toward his. His dark eyes were apprehensive, boring into mine and his grip on my waist tightened. “I’m going to Chicago,” he breathed remorsefully.

Too far was the first reaction my mind could successfully produce. I simply couldn’t fathom that kind of distance between Edward and me, and my strangled “Why?” was the only response I could coherently convey through the sudden constriction of my chest.

He abruptly pulled my head to his shoulder, hugging me tighter as he spoke into my hair. He began telling me about a conversation he had with Emmett. Something about Emmett going to find his birth parents last year. I tried to wrap my head around it, but he was talking so quickly. As he spoke, it became an apparent and desperate justification. Even I could tell that much, though I couldn’t understand why. Nothing he said made any sense.

The only words that completely penetrated my shock and panic were “I’m going to find my mother.”

---

I had returned to my side of the bench. Middle-ground gazebo rules had returned in full force. I hadn’t spoken for a long while, and my mind was still trying to capture the gravity of Edward’s departure.

“Do you think… h-how long…” I stammered dumbly, my words as unorganized as my thoughts.

Luckily, Edward knew me well enough to understand what I was attempting to ask. “I don’t know,” he answered uncertainly as a light sprinkle of rain began falling. That answer was so ridiculously unacceptable that my head abruptly swung to meet his gaze.

“You don’t know?” I tried to inject my voice with venom and anger, but it came out as a pathetic sob. His eyes were once again fixed on his hands, the object gone, and his hair dampened from the humidity of the misty air.

“Maybe... before school is out?” he offered with furrowed brows and a calculating expression at his hands. He had no idea what he was doing.

“I’ll go with you,” I pleaded desperately, and his head began shaking before I could even finish. “I can talk to Esme, and she’ll—”

“Fuck, Bella,” he sighed, finally meeting my gaze, and I knew he’d never let me. “We both know you can’t come,” he added in a rational voice, and you know things are bad when Edward becomes your voice of reason.

So I conceded in that respect, but there were other straws to grasp. “What if it makes it worse for you, Edward? What if she… does it again?” I hedged reluctantly, and the brief flash of pain in his eyes assured me that he understood what I was getting at.

“Maybe she will,” he replied flatly with a tight shrug—like it wouldn’t bother him nearly as much as we both knew it would. Then I really would have to track her down to spit in her face. At best. Still, he wasn’t going to surrender to me anymore.

This idea of his was either really admirable, or completely insane, and there was no way of knowing which.

But Edward was determined to find out. I realized then, as I regarded his set jaw and resolute stare that… this was one of those things that he had to do. On his own. For better or worse. It wasn’t something I could help him accomplish, and it pained me to no end. I wondered… was this how he felt when I went to Phoenix?

I was praying the fear I felt wasn’t evident in my eyes as I met his. “Before summer starts,” I reiterated in a commanding tone that shook despite my every effort. He nodded, and the motion made a lock of his hair fall, obstructing his eye. I reached across the distance to push it away. “Promise me,” I whispered pleadingly.

His fists were clasped so tightly on the table that his knuckles had turned white. “I’ll be home before summer starts, I promise,” he assured me, and even though his voice rang deep with conviction and honesty, it did nothing to assuage my fear.

I nodded, and he slowly lifted himself from the bench. I was frozen in place. It didn’t make sense for him to do this now. He was too tired, and it was too rainy and late for him to drive safely. I couldn’t understand his justification for not waiting, but I feared that voicing this concern would make me seem selfish and unsupportive when I begged him to stay—so I didn’t, and the pit of my stomach twisted and churned.

The rain was coming down harder now, beating on the shingled roof of the gazebo as he stepped behind me and pulled me to him. His strong arms wrapped around my shoulders while his face found my neck and kissed it sweetly. I refused to say goodbye, and he must have shared my sentiment on it, because he didn’t either. Instead, he simply held my back to his chest, planting cold kisses around the necklace I wore and whispering in my ear that he loved me.

I managed a smile and tried my best not to cry when I told him, “I love you, too.” It must have been hard enough without adding the burden of my emotions on top of his own.

When his arms released me, he removed his jacket and draped it around my shoulders. “Cover yourself from the rain when you leave,” he ordered, correctly predicting that I was going to stay until he departed. I nodded numbly without meeting his gaze. I wanted to spare him the guilt of seeing the pain and fear in my eyes.

My eyes remained fixed on the river, and I could feel him retreating from the gazebo without looking over my shoulder. It felt like a chunk of myself had ripped away from my body, and suddenly, I was freezing cold. My teeth began chattering, and there wasn’t really a monumental moment where I knew he was gone. Truthfully, I sat for a long time and still expected to turn my head and see him behind me. But I couldn’t feel his electricity. I could only feel cold and wet and dread.

One month.

After so long sitting alone in the gazebo, the moon was completely covered by clouds, and the darkness felt suffocating. I lifted my stiff and shivering body from the bench and clutched Edward’s jacket tightly around my torso. I wanted to go home, but my only home just drove away in his car—to seek out the only person that could hurt and victimize him even worse than I could.

I would have to settle for second best.

The rain pounded on my hair as I darted across the yard, and the water on the ground splattered with every step, soaking the bottom of my jeans as I approached the house. It didn’t escape my notice that Edward’s Volvo was absent from the Cullen’s driveway.

I knocked loudly on the door, waited five seconds, then pounded loudly once again. My teeth were still chattering violently when it finally opened. I blinked the raindrops away from my lashes, clutching the leather jacket tighter, ignoring the voices suddenly calling my name from across the yard, and met the weary and anguished gaze of Dr. Cullen.

He stepped aside wordlessly as I entered, and then closed the door behind me with a soft click, silencing the roar of the rain outside. We shared a brief stare, and even though he never opened his mouth, it was easily the longest conversation we ever had. His sorrowful eyes spoke volumes into mine.

As I stood dripping wet and shivering in his bright foyer, I finally realized that Dr. Cullen probably loved Edward just as much as I did, and that was saying an awful lot. I think he probably had the same realization, because his gaze shifted to one of understanding as he regarded my numb and trembling form.

Our mutual love and concern for Edward made us kindred in a way that no one else would likely ever understand. This was probably why he didn’t object as he watched me climb the staircase to the third floor bedroom—as close to home as I could possibly get. I instinctively knew that Carlisle wouldn’t make me leave, and no matter what Esme or anyone else had to say about it, I had no plans of doing so until Edward was home, too.

A/N: Shit, I have to keep this a/n short for LJ word length limit. They won’t be apart for long. The distant healing is vital, but you all already knew that. Oh, by the way, there's a smuttake coming up within the next 48 hours. I'll give you guys some time to soak this in before posting it.