12. Hard to Swallow Part 1

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He could not stand the silence anymore and closed the pages of his newspaper. Charlie's eyes slid across the kitchen table at his daughter as she ate her cereal. There were telltale bags making a home beneath her eyes and she seemed to be in her own little world. "So, that was quite a nightmare you had last night."

Bella's brows knit together. She remembered lying in her bed, unable to fall back to sleep...and Charlie coming into the room... "I don't know. I don't remember."

"It must have been pretty bad." Indeed, it must have. Charlie had been told that he slept like the dead, but in the middle of the night, Bella's screams of terror had ripped him from his peaceful slumber. In fact, her howls had prompted him to grab the pistol from his holster - fearful that an intruder may have broken into his daughter's room.

Lost in thought, Bella continued to poke at the little round yellow corn puffs as they floated in the pool of milk before her.

Conversation had never been his strong point, but Charlie was extremely curious. "Bells?"

She looked up into her dad's worried face as he took a sip of coffee.

"Who's James?"

*  *  *

She hobbled through the doorway, her eyes wandering the bright, open interior. The Cullens' home was as she remembered with its large windows that boasted a verdant view of the surrounding trees visible from the upper levels. Droplets of rain trickled down the glass in impressive rows and in awe, Bella stared up at their ceiling which seemed to reach up into the sky. "This is incredible," she told Edward, realizing that she had already said that once before...

"So, you remember this place?" he asked, smiling as he removed her jacket.

She held tight to her crutches, shuddering slightly at his contact.

"Yes," Bella replied as he set down her jacket onto a nearby bench. "No coffins or moats." The words had slipped easily, thoughtlessly from her lips, but her brows furrowed in confusion at her own odd comment.

Alarmed, Edward turned to face her. "Why did you say that?"

Bella shook her head. "I have no idea."

Disappointed, he led her deeper into the room. His biggest hope was to bring her here to jog her memory.

"It's beautiful," she told him, looking toward the glass banister and the daunting number of steps. Very daunting...

Edward studied the worry on her face as his eyes followed hers. "We don't have to go upstairs," he told her, finding that the stress was soon replaced by relief. "Unless you want me to carry you," he teased.

A wild blush spread throughout her face and body at the thought of it. "Well...I...." she stammered, but her gaze fell to a table and two chairs in the middle of the room. "This wasn't here before, was it?"

"Actually, no," he admitted, impressed by her memory of this particular room. He still remembered very well the last time he had brought her to his home...how he had confessed that this was the only place where they could be themselves. To his dismay, this experience with her would have to be different.

She hobbled toward a small round cherry table and eyed a small vase of long-stemmed red roses in the middle. "Did you do this for me?" she asked breathlessly. He had already been more considerate than any male she had ever known, a perfect gentleman by all rights. Every moment she spent in his presence, she felt herself fall deeper for this incredible young man. And now it appeared that Edward had anticipated that she would have difficulty climbing the stairs.

"It was no trouble," he told her, wishing he could do more. In fact, he would not have minded carrying her tempting body up those steps, just for the opportunity to be closer to her. Before he could say more, Esme appeared with a white platter, making her way down the stairs.

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