With sincerest apologies for the four-month wait between chapters—the A/N at the end will offer explanations if you're interested.

And with great thanks to the admirable and always amazing ladylibre who inspired and encouraged me when I was ready to give up on this story….

Chapter 15

I was awakened suddenly out of a sound sleep by a bright blur of movement beside my bed. Crying out in fear, I sat up in bed, wrenching my bruised ribs and putting weight on my injured wrist. Gasping in pain, I cradled my now-throbbing wrist against my chest and narrowed my eyes at the brightness that had yanked me into wakefulness. After the events of the late afternoon, Emmett had brought out the big guns in the pain meds department, and I had slept solidly until…I glanced at my alarm clock…5:14 AM.

"Edward, would you quit pacing? You scared the living daylights out of me!" I flopped back into my pillows with an annoyed groan. However, my usually-friendly ghost didn't reply; in fact, he didn't even glance at me as he continued blurring back and forth along the side of my bed like a frightening sentinel or a crazed illumination.

And illuminated he definitely was.

"Do you get brighter when you're upset?" I asked, noticing the luminescence of his form against the darkness of my room.

My seemingly random (and definitely nosy) question caused Edward to slow his frenetic movements, and at last he met my eyes. But he glanced at me so briefly that I couldn't quite discern the cacophony of emotions revealed in his expression. Taking a deep (yet totally unnecessary) breath, Edward resumed his pacing, albeit at a slower gait, and I watched him in silence for a long moment before reaching out my good arm to catch his sleeve with my fingertips.

Immediately he halted, and I was glad that he had obeyed my tug on his shirt sleeve. Slowly he sat down beside me, but he kept his eyes averted. Adjusting my pillows behind me so that I could sit up in bed more comfortably, I was glad that I was now able to move without more than a faint twinge of pain…as long as I was cautious.

"Hey," I greeted him, quirking an eyebrow at him questioningly.

Wordlessly he fiddled with his cuff buttons, his gaze focused on them as if his life depended upon their being perfectly done up.

"Come on, Edward—talk to me."

But my abject begging was getting me nowhere with this extremely morose Edward. At his continued silent treatment, my anger from yesterday's mirror incident began trickling back into my mind.

"If anyone has the right to be angry and uncommunicative, it would be me, wouldn't it? Do we want to start with what happened yesterday when James was here?" My terse tone finally evoked a response from Edward.

He visibly cringed when I mentioned James.

"Why in the world did you send that mirror crashing down? Did you plan to do it, or was it a 'spur of the moment' decision?" My voice was acidic.

Silence.

All his attention remained focused on those darn cuff buttons as if they were the most fascinating objects he had ever seen.

"Fine," I huffed, mentally throwing in the proverbial towel. "Go ahead and pout or fuss or wallow or whatever it is you're doing—but do it somewhere else besides here, please."

At last his eyes flashed to mine as he gauged whether to take my threat seriously—which he should. I meant it, and with one glance at my fierce determination, he knew it.

And the guilt—the depth of the guilt in his eyes—made me suck in an unsteady breath.

"Edward?"

He dropped his head into his hands, once again denying me access to his gaze. His hands were clenched, white-knuckled, in his hair, and his mouth was strangely slack as if he had no idea what to say. As I watched, he slowly closed his mouth and folded his lips into a thin, determined line before speaking.

"I'm…so sorry, Bella. I can't even tell you what I was thinking or why it happened." His voice was weary, worn, bordering on hopeless.

"Try."

To my surprise, Edward let out a shuddering breath that seemed like a strange mixture of a sigh and a sob.

"I…didn't like having him here. Not here with you. I feel so…protective of you, Bella. And when he upset you, I just…lost it. I didn't think; I just acted—I had to something—anything—to diffuse the situation. You were upset, and…." His voice, low and bleak, trailed off uncertainly.

"James didn't mean to upset me, Edward. He was reacting to learning what happened with Mike, and I don't blame him for being angry—" I started.

"But I do," Edward interrupted. "He's an adult; he can control his emotions, his temper. I can tell that he also feels 'protective' of you. And I think that he was upset that he hadn't been the one to rescue you that night because he went off with the red-head—"

"Victoria," I quietly supplied.

"Yes, her. I didn't like his reaction to what happened—his concern, his anger at Newton, not only for his actions at the Halloween party, but also for the rumors he and Jessica have been spreading on campus this semester. I saw it all in his eyes." Edward sighed, lowering his voice as he removed his hand from over his eyes and focusing his green eyes on me; he seemed to be preparing to confess something very serious. "The real problem is that…his emotions and thoughts toward you seemed almost as strong as my own."

I stared at Edward, gobsmacked. "I—don't know what to say."

A rather uncomfortable silence came between us. I didn't know whether to believe Edward or to brush it off as one of his frequent over-reactions. Frozen, I continued staring as his expression changed to a rueful smile.

"You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know where I am…and even where he is…so that you can make an informed choice."

"A choice?" I frowned in confusion.

"Not now, of course. When you're feeling better. Don't worry about it for now," he assured me, speaking too quickly. Turning toward me, he leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead. "Later," he whispered, smiling a little sadly.

Gently I pushed him away. Edward's proprietary tone and kiss were rather condescending, and the expression in his eyes only increased my confusion.

"But I'm still mad at you," I reminded him. His smile faded at my words, and, averting his eyes from my scrutiny, he sighed.

"I know. So was Alice—she figured out what had happened immediately, and after you fell asleep, she came up to the attic to scold me."

"Really?"

Yes. She was—and is—quite…furious with me. She said that she would talk to me again after I apologized to you." Leaning toward me, Edward gently took my hands in both of his cold ones. "Will you forgive me, Isabella? I am sorry that I allowed myself to lose my temper. You could easily have been injured by the flying glass; I'm just grateful that you weren't."

"And what about being overly-protective?"

His solemn expression hinted at a faint smile. "Yes, and I am sorry for that as well."

I gazed into his eyes—such a clear sea green—as I tried to discern his level of earnestness. Was he truly sorry? Or was he just "marking his territory" when it came to James?

"I will have to work closely with James in the future," I warned. "And I don't want anything else like this to happen again. Is that understood?"

"Understood," he vowed quietly.

"You have to trust me."

"I trust you implicitly, Isabella." The earnestness was clear in his voice. But then I heard him mutter under his breath, "It is James whom I do not trust."

I sighed. "James is a much better guy than you or Alice seem to think."

Edward frowned. "And what about Jasper and Peter who work with him? Their reports regarding his behavior—"

"Okay," I interrupted. "I will be on my guard with James. All right?"

He kissed the back of my uninjured hand, his green eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that I felt in the pit of my stomach…and made me fidget and avert my gaze. He was definitely making me uncomfortable.

I sighed, confused and slightly annoyed.

"All right," he echoed, his voice soft. "I will not interfere with James unless I believe you to be in danger."

"Promise?"

"I promise, Isabella." He grinned at me—which made me doubt his sincerity. I should know better than to believe a vow of non-interference from this all-too-nosy ghost.

"Okay then." I gave him a small smile in return. "Remember, though, you still have to deal with the Wrath of Alice."

His smile disappeared immediately.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Okay, okay. I know when to admit that I was wrong.

And I had been dead wrong—no pun intended.

Despite the fact that I was positive that I could and should return to classes on Tuesday—Wednesday at the very latest—I definitely needed all week to recover sufficiently from my injuries before resuming my school schedule.

For the rest of the week, I slept a lot, took ibuprofen during the day and the knock-out drugs at night for pain, and slept some more. In my few semi-energetic moments, I managed to pull out my laptop and do the work James requested of me for the project, but other than that, any work for my classes simply didn't happen. Alice was a dear, running to my classes with a digital recorder to record the lectures I was missing, but I would still have major catching-up to do on my assigned readings and the quizzes and exams I had missed. It was a huge proposition to get up-to-date in all of my classes, but it would be doable once I fully recovered.

Edward bore up well under the Wrath of Alice, allowing her to drag him into her room and berate him without interruption for ten minutes (I could hear almost every word from my room with both doors closed!). He told me afterward that he finally was able to apologize when she at last paused to take a breath. It took them about half an hour to work things out satisfactorily for both of them, but they returned to my room with wide grins and cheeky winks, their differences mended. But they both smirkingly refused to say a word about the terms of their peace accord.

On Friday after her classes, Rosalie loaded me into Emmett's Jeep and took me to see her one of her mentors for a follow-up to last Saturday night's ER visit. Apparently she had apprised the doctor of my situation and the cause of my injuries because he didn't ask too many questions. My favorite George Clooney look-alike was there again, and Rose laughed when I blushed deep-red when he entered the exam room.

After a thorough exam, Dr. Clooney—okay, his name was Dr. Addison—grinned in such a way that my heart skipped a beat. This man was truly deadly to his female patients…and his cockiness seemed to indicate that he knew this fact all too well. He signed me off for returning to classes Monday with a few limitations on lifting heavy objects; he also warned me to stop studying if a headache developed and to have Emmett and Rose keep an eye on me. He winked as he left, closing the exam room door behind him.

Rose peered at my expression which I was trying to hide behind my curtain of long hair, but I should have known that I wouldn't escape that easily.

"I think someone has a cru-ush," she sing-songed in a manner worthy of Alice.

I shook my head, ignoring her despite my telltale blush. I just hoped that she wouldn't mention my reaction to the George-Clooney-look-alike to Emmett; I'd never hear the end of it. Fortunately, a moment later we came across one of her fellow med students, and Rose stopped to chat with him.

I tried to study over the weekend, but I either fell asleep or got blinding headaches if I read longer than an hour. When Emmett realized the extent of my headaches, he forbade me from reading for twenty-four hours and to rest in a quiet, darkened room whenever a headache began.

As he left my room with only my desk lamp across the room on to provide dim illumination just before he and Rose went out Saturday night, I groaned miserably. How was I supposed to catch up with my classes when I couldn't read?

"What's wrong, Isabella?" came a familiar voice from the corner of my room. Edward had not been spending as much visible time with me as he had before James' visit. There was a different kind of tension between us, and as much as I didn't like it, I didn't want to return to the way things had been between us before the Halloween party, either.

Edward was tentative with me—the phrase "walking on eggshells" pretty much described it, and I felt awkward, embarrassed, and tongue-tied in his presence. I think he was probably around me much more than he let me know, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. The tension between us was different now, and it made me anxious rather than excited and anticipatory.

But my frustration broke through my awkwardness with Edward as I tossed aside the huge economics textbook I was no longer allowed to read. "I have to catch up with my classes, but Em says I shouldn't read. How am I supposed to read these chapters and make up what I've missed when I can't read? Ugh!" I flopped back into my pillows, covering my eyes with my hands.

"I'm sorry, Bella," Edward spoke in a low voice. "Not being able to study for twenty-four hours is definitely problematic if you are returning to classes on Monday."

I sat up abruptly, ignoring the whirling of my head at the sudden motion. "You were in here listening to Emmett, weren't you?" I accused, narrowing my eyes.

"Yes, I was." Edward grinned at me, his tone unapologetic. "Is that a problem?"

"Edward, I don't want you in my room unless you let me know you're here."

The grin disappeared, his face suddenly hard although his voice was quiet. "Whose room was it first?"

"Whose room is it now?" I returned, my tone matching his.

"Very well, then. I won't bother you." He stood up, rubbing his hands down his thighs awkwardly and turned toward the door.

"That's not what I'm saying," I interjected.

He stopped, frozen for a moment, before turning to face me. "Then what are you saying?" His question was wooden, his expression blank.

I sat up, rubbing at my aching head when an idea came to me. I wasn't completely comfortable with the idea, but it would definitely solve my current inability to prepare for my classes. "Edward," I asked slowly, "would you read my textbooks to me?"

His raised eyebrows were the only sign of his surprise. "You don't want me here one moment, and the next you want me to help you?"

I sighed, frustrated. "I never said that I didn't want you here. I said that I wanted to know when you were here. There's a difference."

"All right. There is a difference," Edward conceded, his expression softening slightly.

"I mean, you wouldn't want an invisible 'me' in your room when you weren't aware of my presence, would you?"

The corner of his mouth quirked, giving a hint of a smile. "I suppose not."

"So will you read to me?"

Taking my textbook, he seated himself in my rocking chair across the room. Opening the book to the page I had marked, he perused the page. "There are some charts and illustrations here that you'll have to look at while I read to you." He peered at me over the top of the book. "How do you want to do this?"

"I guess you'll need to sit here on my bed so that I can see what you're referring to," I said, trying to not betray my nervousness at having him close by…and especially on my bed.

Getting up slowly, his expression nearly as tentative as my own, he came to the head of my bed. "Could you make room?" he asked, and I scooted over to the right side of my bed. Edward kicked off his shoes and seated himself, leaning back against the pillow-laden headboard, he stretched out his long legs, crossing them at the ankle. He opened the book across his lap, and I moved closer so that I could see the illustrations and charts on the pages.

"Should I dim the lights?" he asked, turning a few pages ahead in my text.

I pulled back, my eyes wide. "What?"

Blushing, he glanced toward the shaded window. "Ah, I…uh, I heard Emmett say you should be in a dark room if your head is hurting."

"My head should be fine," I said as kindly as possible, fighting through the added awkwardness. "I think it's the small print and the light glaring off the white pages that's been giving me the headaches." I moved a little closer to show we were okay, my head almost resting on his shoulder. "It should be fine now."

Edward cleared his throat a bit awkwardly before he started to read—far too quickly. The words immediately jumbled together in my mind, much like a ball of tangled yarn, and I sighed quietly in frustration.

"What is it?" he questioned, looking down at the page rather than at me.

"Um, could you read a little more slowly, please? My brain needs more time to understand what you're reading."

"Oh, yes. I see. My apologies," Edward almost stammered. Why was he so nervous?

"It's okay. I just need more time to wrap my mind around the concepts. Plus, economics is my least-favorite class, so it requires extra concentration."

"Very well," he agreed again and started reading much more slowly from the top of the page again, pointing to the charts and illustrations as needed. I smiled, thrilled that I could actually comprehend the topic in this way.

And I had to admit it: as nervous and tentative as I have been around Edward lately, this was nice. And I enjoyed the feeling of accomplishment as I was finally able to tackle my stack of assignments for my classes. I had a lot of work ahead of me and no real clue of how to tackle it all, but in that moment, I was comfortable.

Edward must have seen my smile because he halted his reading mid-sentence. "Are you all right, Isabella?"

"Yes." I marveled as the realization warmed me from aching head to toe. "I really truly am."

Thanks for hanging in there on this story. This autumn has been extremely difficult for many reasons, most of all for teaching my two most time-consuming and exhausting classes of the entire school year back-to-back starting in September, plus my classes have been full, and I am preparing three new classes, both online and IRL. My essay grading load has been so overwhelming that I think I've stayed up all night more this quarter than I did in all four years of college combined! All the stress and all-nighters resulted in a horrible flare-up of my autoimmune illness, so add significant increases in full-body pain to absolute exhaustion, and there simply was no way that I could write. I haven't updated my blogs, either. Sigh.

So I hope to update this story again after Christmas, and in January and February I have my two least-intensive online courses to teach, so I hope to update more often. Thanks for your understanding. :)

With much love,

Cassandra :)

xxxooo