Communication. It's the first thing we really learn in life. Funny thing is, once we grow up, learn our words and really start talking, the harder it becomes to know what to say. Or how to ask for what we really need.

Last Chapter Recap:

I was about to close my eyes again when I heard a commotion out by the nurse's desk outside my door.

That's odd, it's late.

"Sir! You can't go in there," a nurse shouted. I sat up and looked towards the door.

When I saw who it was I smiled.

"My hero," I whispered.

Bella's POV

I knew that if I waited long enough, he would come. It was inevitable.

He waited a second before entering, casting a worried glance towards my sleeping father. Slowly, quietly, he made his way to the bed, then he sat and scrutinized my face.

"How are you, Bells?" Emmett whispered.

"I missed you," I replied. Love for my make-shift brother coursed through me.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, Dr. Clullen thinks I might have anxiety. I think he also mentioned something about post traumatic stress. I was too out of it though." He made a face at my answer, because it wasn't what he was asking. I knew, he knew, but that was okay.

"Isabella?" My father stirred over in his place by the window. His eyes opened, and he suddenly became alert, sitting up quickly then glaring at Emmett.

"It's alright," I assured. "Go home and shower. Get some real sleep."

He gave Emmett another once-over. "I'll be back early tomorrow." He glanced at his watch. "Or today, I guess." Charlie stalked out, leaving me alone with my best friend. He trusts me?

"Does this have anything to do with Edward?" Emmett asked, trying to get the same answer as before.

I nodded, about to explain, but I heard the second commotion of the night.

"Excuse me, but it's not visiting hours. I must ask you to--Oh, I'm sorry, sir. I didn't realize that it was you." Emmett and I looked questioningly at each other, wondering who was getting such an important visitor.

And, not for the first time, a silhouette was at my doorway.

But this time, I did not smile.

Edward's POV

I am driving.

Where to?



Because I love Bella.


The most important person in the whole world.


Yeah, I know, it's crazy.


I don't know, I'm not in charge of these kinds of things.


I pull in to a gas station and shut off the car. Nobody else is driving around, they're all safe in the bed's, sleeping, dreaming.

But I, I have this obsession that's taking over my whole being. I need to stop. I need to think. But I can't. For all of my thoughts are conquered by a mahogany-haired beauty.

I start the car and pull out, back onto the long road that bears nothing. Except for me.

How sad.

I'm tired of saying wait. I'm tired of thinking stop.

It's time to act. It's time to go.

I press on the gas, practically flooring it.

Act. Go. Act. Go. Act. Go. Act. Go.


Bella's POV

"Why are you here?" Emmett growled. "You're not welcome. You've broken our trust." I put my hand on top of Emmett's, mentally telling him to calm down.

"I'm here to explain, to apologize. I have a reason. I did not leave Bella for some petty excuse. Please, hear me out." Edward was here, in my room. Not the scary one in my nightmare, the real, honest-to-goodness, Edward. And Emmett was trying to throw him out.

"I don't care. She's in this... Place, because of you." The vein on Emmett jaw was so prominent that I knew I had to stop him from freaking out. But my mouth wasn't opening. It's like my dreams, but I know it's real.

Edward looked as if he would cry. His eyes tired looking, purple bruise-like shadows under them made him look sad. Almost pathetic, but not quite. Somehow, he maintained dignity.

Somehow, he still looked like a god.

"I need to explain myself. And Bella needs to at least know what happens. Why don't you let her send me away, instead of speaking for her?"

"Because!" Emmett exploded. "She's fragile, she not whole. And you came along, supposedly going to help, then you crushed her. She's a kid, Edward. She's not strong enough to go through your drama." Again, I tried to speak, but my vocal chords weren't working.

"She's not a kid anymore, Emmett. She's not frail, or else she wouldn't have survived all she's been through. I realize that you've always been there for. But someday she'll have to fend for herself." Let me speak, I screamed. But I only heard myself.

"That's why I'm here, so she'll never have to be alone. So she'll never have to fend for herself."

"Stop!" I finally managed out, feeble and hoarse as it was. They both looked at me. Shocked, yet expectant. Wanting to know what I have to say, yet willing to speak on my behalf.

"Emmett, go get me a pop from the vending machine." His face showed protest, even before his mouth could. "Please," I added. He glumly got up and stalked out of the room as slow as possible.

"Edward," I whispered, my voice cracking. He came forward and sat next to me, facing the wall as I was.

We didn't speak, we didn't look at each other. We just... Sat there.

Eventually Emmett came back with a Sprite, he set down on the table near my bed, then he walked back out. I silently thanked him.


"My dad, he needed me to work," Edward blurted just as I said, "I forgive you."

We both chuckled at the awkwardness of the situation, or at least, that's why I did.

"Go on," I nudged his arm.

"There are these twins, they have heart problems. I was watching and then Rain she..." He trailed off, but I knew what he was saying. "I wanted to call you, but this hospital gets no reception. And I just... Couldn't leave her..."

I instinctively grabbed for his hand, intertwining our fingers and holding tight.

He knew I forgiven him, I'd said it.

But, what next?

If we were to continue this 'romance', if that is even what this is?

This roller coaster, this... Emotion. What if it's too much?

More silence. More words I wish I could say. But like before, they wouldn't come out.

Eventually, I gently laid my head on Edward's shoulder. I closed my eyes and reveled in the feeling of being close to him. I lived in the moment.

I felt his lips against my hair, and he squeezed my hand.

I could practically feel what he was thinking. So I replied in the same way.

I love you, too.

At the end of the day, there are some things you just can't help but talk about. Some things we just don't want to hear, and some things we say because we can't be silent any longer. Some things are more than what you say, they're what you do. Some things you say because there's no other choice. Some things you keep to yourself. And not too often, but every now and then, some things simply speak for themselves.