A/N This is the first Epov from Secrets and Lies

If you haven't read Secrets and Lies I would urge you to read the first fifteen chapters of that story before reading this. This is Edward's point of view set during his affair with Bella.

I feel her hand stroking down my chest – I know that hand, and yet it feels foreign. I keep my eyes closed, willing myself not to think of anything else (or anyone else), but the sensations of her touching me. I keep my eyes closed, imagining that it's brown hair that tickles my skin, not the bright blond I know I'll see if I look. My eyes remain shut tight, because I know if I open them I won't see the pair of deep brown eyes I want to see, but the light blue ones I've looked into for the past five years.

I hate myself for this, but I don't stop imagining. I'm cheating on her – and I've never even touched Bella.

"Morning, darling," she murmurs, and my eyes snap open. The sound of her voice brings me screaming into full consciousness. I look down to see Irina's blonde hair fanning over my chest. Suddenly, it's like an anvil has been dropped on my chest. Remembering the thoughts I just had, my arousal is doused from guilt.

"Morning," I say, wearing a weak smile. I start to extricate myself from her embrace, the feel of her snuggling against me fuelling my guilt further.

Her brow furrows and her bottom lip pouts briefly. She shrugs it off though – and unperturbed, her fingers burrow beneath the sheet and into my boxers, before curling around my rapidly deflating cock. I close my eyes, unable to face the disappointment that will inevitably seep into hers. Her hand kneads my flesh desperately, like it has done so many times lately, and following our ritual, my hand grasps her wrist, stopping her.

"Don't," I say gently, glancing at the clock. "You need to get over to Tanya's room; she'll be waiting for you."

She lets out a despondent sigh when she rolls off me. Seizing my chance, I hop out of bed, heading straight for the adjoining bathroom.

The original plan was for her to come here with her sister Tanya and the other bridesmaids last night, while I would travel here with the rest of my family today. I'm regretting agreeing to Irina's request to stay here with her. Living with my parents doesn't afford us much privacy – something which Irina complains about often – but which recently I have come to be grateful for. It shames me to say it, but I've used that convenient little excuse on many an occasion lately. It seems as my interest in our sex life has waned in the past few months, hers has grown exponentially. Until, recently she hardly ever tried to initiate sex. Now she wants it all the time.

I met Irina in med school, during my first year. My roommate Riley was always chasing girls, always. I lost count of the amount of dates he dragged me on, because for some reason, girls who went to med school seemed incapable of going on a first date without bringing a friend along. Annoyingly, Riley only ever did first dates, so it was a great bone of contention between us.

Irina's roommate, whose name escapes me now, was practically ready to hump Riley in the restaurant, resulting in them exiting the premises half way through the meal, leaving a nervous Irina and I alone. It was the first time this had ever happened to me on one of those torturous dates, thankfully though, it worked out okay, because I found that I actually liked Irina.

We exchanged numbers and promises to call at the end of the evening, but I never expected to see her again. Irina, however, had other ideas. One Friday night when I was buried beneath a mountain of required reading, she called me out of the blue and invited me out for pizza. After that, we started dating and found that we fit well into each other's lives.

Our schedules were similar, and both being first year students, we understood the pressures of our chosen academic path. We settled into a nice routine, seeing each other two nights a week and then spending one whole day and night together on the weekends.

Sometimes I wonder if it might have fizzled out eventually, if it hadn't been for Carlisle. Until I brought her home that first time, our relationship might have been described as easy, maybe even staid. We enjoyed each other's company and we didn't seem to need anything more than that. We had our routine, and we were so busy with school that there simply wasn't time to analyse our relationship or sit down and think if we were right for each other.

Carlisle adored her from the start. In fact, Irina was the one thing in my life he seemed to approve of. He was more excited about finding out that she was my girlfriend than he had been when I got accepted to medical school. Of course, this didn't surprise me, considering who Irina's father was: Eleazar Denali, one of Seattle's most highly respected heart surgeons.

Carlisle has never been content with his lot in life. For that matter, he's never been content with my lot, either. He pressured me non-stop trying to get me to specialize in surgical medicine, and his disappointment that I didn't succumb to his attempts comes through loud and clear. Often. There were times I wondered if he thought he could bask in the reflected glory of raising me, his adopted son, so well that I became a surgeon.

In the only time I'd really ever stood up for myself, I'd made it known I wanted to be a general practitioner, turning down an offer of internship at Virginia Mason. Carlisle hadn't spoken to me since I'd told him over the phone. But when I brought Irina home to visit, he reengaged with me – thrilled that I'd found what he told me was a 'good match'. For a while, I held my head up higher – feeling Carlisle's pride in me for the first time. Nothing else I had ever done had garnered his praise before, and I craved it.

The invitations to bring Irina home to Forks started to extend to her whole family. Before I knew it, the Denali's were woven into our lives like silk threads on an embroidered cushion. There was no way to unstitch Irina without ruining the pretty picture.

But all that mattered was that I was finally getting something right. I was training to be a doctor, my family loved my girl, and for a little while I actually believed I was exactly who I wanted to be.

Irina buckled under the pressure of medical school and dropped out in our third year. Her father rented an apartment for her and paid all her living expenses, it seemed nothing was expected of Irina from her family. I envied her that; I knew I'd face the full brunt of Carlisle's disappointment if I didn't fulfil my commitment to becoming a doctor.

I couldn't say I enjoyed studying medicine, but I knew he'd be disappointed if I pursued any other career. Carlisle wanted to create a Cullen legacy in the medical community. How Emmett and Alice withstood the pressure was beyond me. But then I also had Irina reminding me that my father was proud of us. How ironic that I had worked so hard to impress him in my chosen career, but it was my chance encounter meeting the right girl that had impressed him most.

Esme threw a big party when I qualified, and of course the Denali's were there. Carlisle kept banging on all night about how they felt like 'family', and he was proud that I had brought them into our lives. Looking back, I realize he never once said he was proud of my academic achievements. But drunk on the approval he had given me, I proposed to Irina in a wildly elaborate gesture that was completely out of character for me. Everyone was delighted, not least Carlisle.

We had the big society wedding in Seattle. Then I got the job in Forks and we moved in with my parents, to give us time to save for a home of our own. My life was set!

"It's been months since we made love," she grumbles.

Her voice startles me. My razor drops into the sink with a clatter. "What?" I ask, pretending to be distracted. Even though I suspected this might come, I'm completely at a loss with what to say to her.

"You heard me, Edward, I'm tired of you pretending it doesn't matter. It does."

Her exasperation comes through loud and clear, just like it has every time we've had this argument.

I scrape the razor across my clenched jaw. "Look, I'm sorry." I steal a sidelong glance at her, she's already dressed and leaning against the door frame. Her arms are folded tightly across her chest, her expression utterly miserable. "I'm just tired," I mutter.

"Yeah? These days you're tired all the time, Edward," she snaps.

Wiping the last remnants of soap from my chin, I pull the plug and lean on the counter, watching the water swirl as it drains away. "Let's not fight today," I sigh. "It's your sister's wedding day. You should be over there right now, up to your neck in champagne and Kleenex."

With a harsh groan of frustration she flounces out, slamming the door behind her.

I feel like shit.

Pushing myself away from the counter, I head back to the bedroom. I pull on my sweats and a T-shirt and grab my gym bag, deciding a tough workout is exactly what I need.

Two hours later I let myself back into the room to find Irina perched on the edge of the bed. Her silver blonde hair has been swept up into one of those elaborate hairstyles that you can't touch or run your fingers through. Her pretty features have been enhanced by soft makeup and she looks lovely. The white fluffy robe she is wearing is wrapped tightly around her and her legs and feet are bare.

"I just thought I'd pop back to see how you are," she says quietly, without looking at me.

Dropping my bag, I sit beside her on the bed. "You look beautiful."

She snorts. "Yeah, it's amazing what half a pound of makeup and a curling iron can do. Pity it can't make your husband want you."

"I'm sorry about this morning," I offer meekly.

Her eyes are wide and sad when she looks at me. "I just don't know what's going on, Edward. You're so distant all the time – you never want to make love anymore. I feel like I'm invisible to you." The beginnings of tears cause her eyes to shimmer.

"Don't cry," I say gently, picking up the makeup bag that is sitting on the bed beside her. "Do you have any Kleenex in here?" I ask, sliding the zip back.

"No!" she snaps, snatching the bag from me and clutching it tightly. She presses a finger beneath each eye and blinks back her tears. "I'm fine, I don't want your sympathy, Edward. I just want you to tell me what's wrong."

Inhaling deeply and then letting my breath out on a long sigh, I take her hand in mine. "I'm sorry, I'm just...stressed at work, and it's draining me..." And it is. Ever since I began practicing, each day it becomes just a little more tedious, a little more difficult to put on a smile – not even money makes me feel fulfilled at this point. The more I try to pacify her, the lamer I sound. "Let's just have a good day today. You've been looking forward to this for months." I cup her cheek in my hand and lean forward, but she backs away.

"We have to talk," she warns. "I know something's wrong. But you're right. Today's not the day for this. Let's just try to enjoy it, and we can talk tomorrow."

I peck her lips gently, more relieved than I have a right to be.

I check my watch. "The family will be here soon. I'm meeting them downstairs. I better get dressed."

"Yeah, Tanya will be freaking out. I better get back too," she says, surprising me by suddenly kissing my cheek.

The wedding guests are easy to spot in their finery as they mill around among the more casually dressed patrons. I head to the conservatory. Finding my family sitting around a large circular table, chatting. There's a tray of sandwiches and a pot of coffee sitting in the centre of the table.

Esme spots me first, rises to greet me and plants a kiss on my cheek when I reach her.

"Oh Edward, I do love you in a tux." She grins, beaming at me proudly, while smoothing down the lapels which are already impeccably placed. "You look so handsome, you might take the attention away from the bride."

"Thanks Esme." I chuckle. "As if anyone is capable of stealing the attention from Tanya. Well, perhaps with the exception of you. You look stunning."

She grins broadly, sitting back down.

There's a round of greetings before I take my seat opposite Alice and Bella.

Bella's face turns up and our eyes connect as I pull my chair out. My chest tightens a little at the memory of my dream, as I sit down unable to break our stare. My chest tightens with anxiety at seeing her, knowing the thoughts I had this morning. If I don't learn to control this – if I don't find a way to move past it, she'll be the death of me.

"Where's Irina?" Alice asks, looking over her shoulder.

Her voice is enough to break the spell, and wrenching my gaze from Bella's face, I look at my sister. "She's with Tanya. They're putting their dresses on or something," I answer, unable to stop my traitorous eyes from darting back to Bella, who is still watching me.

Alice pulls her chair closer to the table, drawing my attention back to her. "What is Tanya's dress like? I bet it's beautiful, she's so stunning. I'm guessing she'll have picked something tight, maybe with an–"

"Alice!" I groan, holding up my hand. "I have no idea what her dress looks like, it's not like I was in there with them when they were getting dressed."

"I bet you wish you were." Emmett laughs. "Man, Garrett is one lucky, moth–" he stops, glancing at Esme. "Dude."

"You're such a perv, Emmett," Alice complains.

"Do you think you three could even pretend to be adults, just for one day?" Carlisle snaps, standing up. He looks down at Esme. "I see Eleazar and Sasha have arrived, are you coming?"

He holds his hand out, and Esme smiles at us before taking his hand and following him through the glut of tables that are placed too close together, to the man Carlisle wants to impress more than anyone else in the world. Though why he bothers is a mystery to me. He knows by now that I have no intention of furthering my career and he himself has gone as far as he can in his.

Perhaps he thinks being seen with these men who are at the pinnacle of their careers will somehow rub off on him and he will appear to be more important than he really is.

"What's he got a stick up his ass about?" Emmett asks, grabbing a sandwich from the tray and stuffing it in his mouth.

"He wants to make a good impression on Eleazar's colleagues. You know how he gets." Alice says in a fake Carlisle accent, while wrinkling her nose.

"I feel a little out of place," Bella says quietly, looking at Alice. "Maybe,I shouldn't have come."

Bella is wearing a red dress that somehow makes her look even more beautiful than she already is. She really is stunning – but I know her, she's more at home in her jeans and baseball boots, so it doesn't surprise me to see her fidgeting with the hemline of the dress.

"Stop pulling at it!" Alice scolds, frowning at her. "It won't grow an extra inch just because you're tugging at it!"

Emmett guffaws at this statement, and a synchronised eye rolling session ensues from us three sane people seated at the table with him.

"I should have worn the black one," Bella complains. "That one was longer and it had sleeves."

"Yes, and it was dowdy. Even my mother is too young for that dress, Bella." Alice sighs.

I allow myself to study her for a few moments. She looks achingly beautiful. Not in an in-your-face way like Tanya. Bella's a natural beauty. And today, she's wearing makeup and her hair, like most of the other women, has been pinned up – but the way it frames her face... she's just the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. With the off shoulder dress she is wearing, she looks older than she usually does and I have to force myself to look away before my feelings for her start to engulf me once again.

"And of course you should be here," Alice chides with a giggle. "You're my date! Bella doesn't look out of place at all, does she guys?" she continues, impishly. "She looks beautiful."

Bella smiles at this but it quickly fades and she bites her lip nervously.

Emmett grins. "Yeah, you actually look like a girl for a change, Bella, you scrub up good."

"Shut up!" Bella says with good humor, the smile returning to her face. My mouth dries as the most adorable blush blooms on her alabaster cheeks.

Her eyes flick to mine and one eyebrow rises very briefly.

Swallowing, I reach forward and lift a sandwich. "You look beautiful," I agree, before jamming the sandwich into my mouth, for fear that I'll say more.

Her lips curve slightly before I wrench my gaze away from her. The sandwich is almost choking me and I turn away, looking over my shoulder at nothing in particular, just needing to look at anything but her.

I watch as my parents approach, bringing another couple with them. They are young, possibly only a couple of years older than I am and I already know what's coming.

"I'd like you to meet my family," Carlisle enthuses, gesturing a hand towards us. We all stand simultaneously. "Guys, I'd like you to meet Dr. Marshall and his wife, Fiona." He turns to me. "Dr. Marshall has just secured a very good position in Seattle General in paediatric surgery."

"Congratulations," I say amiably, shaking first his hand, and then his wife"s. "I'm Edward," I finish, since Carlisle didn't bother to tell them my name while he was busy gloating about this complete stranger"s achievements.

That's the thing with Carlisle, he's never forgiven me for turning down the chance of an internship at Virginia Mason. While it's okay for him to settle for being Chief Medical Officer in Forks, he clearly feels I should aim higher. He takes every chance he gets to remind me what I could have become, each time sticking the knife in a little deeper. At least today I was prepared for it. In a wedding full of the elite of Seattle's medical scene; I knew there would be no shortage of brilliant young doctors to taunt me with.

"This is my other son, Emmett," my father continues, pausing while more handshakes ensue. "And this is our baby, Alice," he beams proudly, while Alice looks annoyed at being called a baby.

I watch, mildly amused, noting how he doesn't offer any elaboration on our status in life, despite the fact he was more than happy to share Dr Marshall"s with us. There's an awkward silence after the introduction, and it's the brilliant Dr Marshall who fills it.

"And is this your other daughter, I presume?" he enquires, holding out his hand towards Bella.

"No, this is Bella, she's... Alice"s friend," my father replies dismissively.

I bristle as Bella's face tightens. He always does this to her, reminding her that he doesn't particularly like her, but tolerates her for Alice"s sake. If he would only spend ten minutes talking to Bella, like I have, he'd see that she is not the reputation she carries around. I didn't know about her supposed "reputation" until after our embarrassing first meeting (which I really don't like to think about), but since Alice began bringing her by the house almost a year ago, I've gotten to know her and she is the kindest, most interesting girl I've ever met.

She's also tough and as quick as her face falls, it lights up again and she flashes a brilliant smile. "It's really good to meet you," she beams. "And congratulations on your," she glances slyly at Carlisle. "very good position at the hospital."

Carlisle's face looks thunderous as he grits his teeth. Clearly, it doesn't please him that the interloper is the only one, aside from me, who congratulated Dr. Marshall on his career. A fact that Bella seems fully aware of as she flatters Fiona too, before sitting down with a satisfied smirk.

Regaining his composure, he turns back to the couple. "It really is a lovely setting for the wedding. The grounds are lovely, aren"t they Esme?"

The most boring conversation in the world ensues, and it's a relief when Carlisle finally steers them away from the table.

"You know you shouldn't wind him up like that, Bella," Emmett sniggers.

"I wasn't," she denies, with a small smile. "I thought I was being polite." She shrugs with feigned innocence.

"Oh my God!" Emmett gasps, "Look at the rack on that." He swats my arm with the back of his hand. "At the bar, the blond."

"I know her!" Alice says, turning and following his gaze. And that's all Emmett needs to hear before he drags Alice up to the bar.

"Oh God, I hope he gets a girlfriend soon." Bella chuckles. "He's like one giant raging hormone."

"I don't think there's a girl out there who could hold his attention for longer than a few hours," I comment.

Her laugh is loud and throaty. "If there is, I can't wait to meet her."

But her laughter stops as quickly as it started. "He's right," she says, and I quirk an eyebrow at her in confusion. "Emmett, he's right. I shouldn't antagonise your father."

"He was being rude," I assure her. "He deserved it."

"Still." She shrugs.

Behind her, I see my parents coming back. Maybe my expression reveals something, because she turns round, following my gaze and then turns back with a grimace.

"Let"s get out of here," I suggest, standing up. "I hear the grounds are lovely, I add with a mocking smile.

Thankfully, it's stopped raining and we follow the path around the side of the building to the gardens. Noticing the goose bumps springing up on Bella's skin and the violent shiver that ripples through her, I shrug out of my jacket and hand it to her.

She wraps it around her tiny frame and inhales deeply. Her eyes flutter closed and her lips part. My jaw clenches and I look away.

"Maybe, this wasn't the best escape route." I say.

"Why does he do that?" she asks, ignoring my statement.

"I'm sorry, he's so rude to you. He's just so fixated on projecting this perfect image to everyone all the time," I explain. He always has been. I can remember his frown when I first arrived to join the family. I was this pale, scrawny, red-headed kid with glasses. I didn't fit with Emmett the child sports star, or pretty baby Alice. And even today, he still looks at me sometimes as if I shouldn't be within the frame of family photographs.

"And I spoil the perfect picture," she states. It never ceases to amaze me how she seems to have her finger on the pulse like this. Her thoughts seem to reflect mine and there are times when I feel like she's the only person in my life who feels the way I do. Who understands my feelings of inadequacy and unhappiness that seem to grow stronger by the day. She understands these emotions all too well because from our many conversations, I realize that she feels the same.

"It doesn't take much with him. He has this image in his head that he thinks we should all project. Believe me, you're not the only blot on his landscape," I tell her.

She dismisses my reasoning with a wave of her hand. "That's not what I was talking about anyway. I meant, why does he always try to make you feel inadequate?"

"He doesn't," I protest, knowing full well she's right.

"Oh please!" she snorts. "Remember on Halloween, at your parent's party? He dragged that guy over, desperate to rub your nose in it that he had just performed his first fucking bypass or something. I mean, did he really think you would take him seriously when he was dressed as Count Dracula and introducing you to a fucking pumpkin?"

"I guess not." I laugh.

"I'm being serious." she sighs.

"Yes, you are being serious. Too serious," I point out.

She holds her hands up in surrender. "Okay, you're not up for a deep and meaningful, I get it. But I just want you to know, I'm here if you need someone to talk to."

"Thank you," I say quietly.

"I mean it Edward. You're always there for me and it makes me happy when I can return the favour."

"I know, but I shouldn't let you."

"Why? Because of Irina?"

I stop in front of her and she looks up at me. God help me! But she's the most beautiful creature I've ever seen, there is something about her that just captivates me. It transcends mere physical attraction. I can't name it or explain it, it's just there whenever I look at her or talk to her, something inside me slots into place and I feel like if I could just let go of everything else, I could feel like this all the time.

She has a way about her. She trusts me completely with her deepest thoughts and that makes it impossible not to reciprocate. When I'm with her, when we talk, it's like I can really be honest without fear of being judged or saying something that will disappoint her. But it still fills me with guilt that I can share things with her that I can't bring myself to admit to Irina. Carlisle's desire to project the right image has apparently rubbed off on me a little more than I am comfortable with.

"This is not some "my-wife-doesn't-understand me" bullshit sob story, Bella, but at the same time, it's not right that I discuss things with you that I've never discussed with her." I sigh, jamming my hands into my pockets.

She touches my arm lightly. "You know you can trust me, right? I've never told anyone about our time together."

The images her words conjure twist like a knife. "Bella, we only talk, it's nothing more than that."

She blanches and I can see I've hurt her, but she recovers quickly and tilts her chin up. "I know."

From the first time Alice brought her home, and I witnessed the way she handled Carlisle's barbed comments, I couldn't help but admire her strength of character. The more I got to know her, the more I saw something in her that seemed to reflect the emotions I recognized in myself. But we handled our disillusionment in very different ways. Bella rebels for attention, while I do the opposite.

The emotional scars Bella bears match my own. She feels rejected by her father and unwanted by her mother; I can relate to that. But it's not my natural parents who instilled the feelings of inadequacy in me; no – it's my adopted father, Carlisle, who owns that honor entirely.

It never mattered what I did: baseball, good grades, honor society, medical school. At every turn I'm met with his neutral expression, an expression that always reminds me that he was forced to take me in. It hadn't occurred to me until so recently how much of my life I've lived trying to earn his acceptance. When I think of how much of my life I may have wasted on someone who will never love me as one of his own, I can't help how angry I feel.

Before I met Bella, these feelings were buried so deep within me; I never dared admit them to myself, far less to vocalize them out loud. At first it was a relief to know that I was not alone in feeling like this. For the first time I didn't feel guilty or ungrateful for the feelings I was experiencing.

For the past couple of months though, my feelings towards Bella have changed drastically, and no matter how hard I try to fight them they continue to grow. I started to look forward to seeing her. I enjoyed her company more than I should and my attraction to her was undeniable. Lately, my feelings for her have grown exponentially and I find myself thinking about her all the time – In ways that I know I shouldn't. I can barely be around her now without wanting her in very primitive ways.

The direction my thoughts have taken begin to disturb me. I look down at her and not for the first time, I am aware of little physical details that I shouldn't even notice. She is wearing high-heeled shoes that seem to push up the muscle in her calves, so they form a smooth, elegant curve that flexes with every step. My fingers itch to run over her smooth skin and my dick twitches in sync.

"We should get back," I say abruptly, turning and starting back up the path.

She hands me my jacket before we get to the entrance, and says nothing further as we step through the doors. Back into our respective roles, which... for me at least, is becoming difficult to maintain.

0o0

After the ceremony and photographs and all the other palaver that occurs at weddings is over, we are ushered into an elaborately decorated ballroom that is filled with so much foliage it resembles a rainforest in spring. I half expect to find a black widow spider at my table.

The meal is excruciating, not because the food isn't nice, but because we're forced to listen to Carlisle boring us with uninteresting anecdotes he gleaned from Eleazar about every important man in the room. Thankfully, by the time coffee is served, he runs out of stories.

I glance around the table. Alice and Bella seem to be enjoying themselves, judging by their ever increasing fits of giggles and Emmett is busy scanning the tables, ogling all the pretty girls. I'm finally managing to loosen up and push thoughts of Bella to the back of my mind.

"Man, I'm so glad I didn't bring a date," Emmett whispers. "Have you seen this place? It's like a smorgasbord of pussy!"

I laugh loudly at his crudeness, which earns me a glare from Carlisle and another outburst of giggles from Alice and Bella. My eyes narrow as I regard them suspiciously, but then Bella catches my eye and holds my gaze a little too long, forcing me to look away.

Pushing my coffee cup away, I refill my wine glass and focus on Emmett, preferring to listen to his stories about business school, rather than dwell on things that are best left alone. It really is fascinating, the things he is learning and I am happy for him, that despite injury wrecking his dream of becoming a pro football player, he has found something else that makes him happy and his plans for the future truly excite him. That's Emmett, he is never not happy and I can't help but envy him that.

Finally, the meal done, the tables are cleared, freeing us from the constraints of place settings, and the atmosphere starts to improve. Tanya and Garrett have their first dance, where the music is almost drowned out by the appreciative oohs and ahs from the women watching.

The floor starts to fill with the rest of the wedding party, everyone being paired off according to some set of rules lost on me. I'm sure this happened at our wedding too, but since I only had to dance with my wife, her mother and Esme, I didn't pay attention to anyone else. Irina is dancing with the best man.

"When do we get a turn," Emmett grouses, coming up behind me. "There's a sweet little brunette sitting over there on her own. I wanna get her on that dance floor."

"Jesus, Em, what happened to the blonde you were chasing earlier? Do you ever think of anything other than your dick?"

"Sure," he says, swigging from his beer bottle. "I think about pussy a lot too."

I shake my head, laughing and down the rest of my own beer. "I'm pretty sure you have to wait till all this bullshit is over with." I say, gesturing to the wedding party swirling across the floor.

"Bet you can't wait to prise Irina away from that asshole." He points towards them with his bottle. "Look how fucking close he's holding her."

I'm well aware of how close they are. I'm also aware that it should bother me more than it does.

Irina pulls back a little and for a few moments they are further apart before he pulls her close again. Catching a glimpse of discomfort on Irina's face, I head towards them.

"Hey," I say, clapping my hand on the guy"s shoulder with a forced smile. "You mind if I dance with my wife?"

He's drunk. That much is clear as soon as he turns round. He looks at me through bleary eyes, blinks a few times and then looks down at Irina, who by now is looking even more uncomfortable. He lets her go and steps back, still looking at her. "Sure, man."

Irina steps into my embrace. "Thanks," she whispers, as he slopes off.

"You looked like you needed rescuing." I grin, manoeuvring her across the floor.

"So what took you so long?"

I laugh. "I was kinda hoping you would knee him in the balls. You know, this is a really dull party, and that might"ve livened things up a bit."

She bursts out laughing and I twirl her theatrically in my arms. When the song finishes, I ask her if she'll be coming to sit at our table, but she explains that she has some more wedding duties to perform with Tanya. It seems to me like this wedding is too much pomp and circumstance and not enough fun, much like our own was.

Turning back to our table, I note that Bella is sitting there alone. A quick glance around the room and I see that Emmett is dancing with the brunette, my parents are schmoozing with the elite, and Alice is nowhere to be seen.

"Where"s Alice?" I ask, having to raise my voice a little over the music, since I've opted for a chair at the other side of the table, a safe distance away from her.

"What?" she shouts, a little too loudly. "I can't hear you."

Forced to move a little closer, I repeat the question and she mouths the word bathroom back to me.

For a nanosecond my mind conjures that as an invitation. She is still staring at me, her deep brown eyes smouldering as they hold mine. Everything fades into oblivion, I no longer hear the music as I feel myself being drawn into her intense gaze. Her tongue flicks out, wetting her lips. My eyes zero in on this motion, and the desire to follow her tongue with my own hits me like a punch in the gut.

"Dance with me, Edward?"

My head whips round at the sound of Alice"s voice. I shoot up off the seat as if it has burnt me and pull her to the dance floor. Anything to get me away from Bella's allure, which is like my own personal gravity dragging me in a direction that I am physically unable to resist.

Alice twirls and gyrates around me like the Energizer Bunny while I try to keep up, and I'm beyond relieved when the song ends.

Making our way back to the table, I notice that everyone has returned – well everyone except for Emmett, who has probably gotten lucky by now. Alice grabs Bella and they dart off, while I slide into the seat beside Irina.

"So you're finally free," I observe, picking up my beer and taking a long pull.

"For a little while. Tanya will be getting ready to leave soon. I said I'd help her."

"Her dress is simply stunning," Esme says, leaning forward and looking over towards the dance floor. "It's such a shame to take it off."

I can almost hear Emmett's response to that, despite the fact he isn't here and it makes me smile.

Following Esme"s gaze, I watch Tanya and Garrett dancing, while Irina and my mother descend into a deep conversation about the merits of Tanya's dress. I'm not particularly interested in wedding dresses, so within a few minutes, I start scanning the rest of the room.

Alice and Bella cross my line of vision with two guys following in their wake. They head straight for the dance floor, and my breath hitches when one of them pulls Bella into his arms. My teeth clench as one hand trails over the exposed expanse of skin on her back. Without thinking, my fists clench and my mouth dries when I see his other hand dipping lower, sliding precariously close to her ass.

I can't tear my eyes away as they circle in time with the music, until it is his back facing me and all I can see of Bella is her hands resting lightly on his shoulders. Watching intently as they keep turning, time seems to have slowed down as I wait to see just where his hands are. My heart is thumping in my chest.

I'm almost relieved when I spot his hand splayed on the small of her back. My relief is short lived though, because he dips his head, and whispers into her ear. I am gripped by the notion that I would donate a vital organ just to know what he said to her that put such a cute little smile on her face.

My fingers curl tighter around the bottle I'm holding. I know I should look away but there just isn't enough will in the world to make me do that and though I feel sick to my stomach, I keep my eyes trained on them.

"Your sister is fine."

The spell broken, my head whips round at the sound of Carlisle's voice. He is sitting back in his chair with his hands tented in front of him, and it annoys me that he has been watching me. I glance back at the dance floor to see Alice dancing with the other guy beside Bella and her partner. He is holding her at a far more respectable distance than Bella is being held. My jaw clenches again.

"She, at least, has a little decorum, unlike Bella," Carlisle sneers. "So you can stop glaring at her. She's only dancing."

Feeling a hand on my arm, I turn toward Irina. "Aw, how cute are you, getting all over protective on your little sister." She smiles at Carlisle. "At least you won't have to worry about Alice with Edward around."

My mouth is still dry and I clear my throat before speaking. "I...uh... Alice can dance with whoever she wants," I say sourly.

Carlisle's loud laugh annoys me. "You looked like you were about to murder someone."

"Yeah, well, listening to Emmett all day will do that to you," I snap, suddenly feeling exposed under the glare of their inspection. "I mean, we wouldn't want her ending up with a guy who lives by the same moral code as he does."

I turn away, exhaling sharply as I try to calm down. I shouldn't say things like that about him, especially considering how fucked up my own head is lately. Emmett is free to do as he likes. He doesn't owe anybody anything. He is single and has his parent's support no matter what he does. He isn't the one attracted to a girl nine years his junior. He isn't the one who put his own wants aside to earn one fucking word of praise which he'll never hear. He didn't trap himself in a life he didn't want and a job that is slowly killing him.

Even on Emmett's worst day, he couldn't be more of a hypocritical asshole than I am right now.

"Edward!" my mother scolds. "Don't speak about your brother like that."

A new song starts up and Carlisle and Esme get up to dance. Irina asks me if I want to join them, but I decline when I see Alice and Bella weaving their way back to the table. Thankfully they seem to have ditched their dance partners, because I can now see that they are quite clearly drunk, not stumbling around drunk, but drunk just the same. Our cousin Alec accosts Alice before she reaches us, leaving Bella to return on her own.

Her step falters a little when her gaze falls upon Irina and me sitting alone at the table. I half expect her to take a detour but she doesn't, she just keeps coming and then flops down into the chair beside me.

Propping her elbow on the table she swivels in the seat so she is fully facing me. She leans her head on her hand and grins at me.

"My God, Edward! you look fucking hot in a tux, d'you know that?" she says with a smirk, and my eyes almost bug out of my head.

"Oh, Edward's far too modest to answer that," Irina responds with clear malice in her tone, before sliding her hand possessively across my shoulder.

My eyes widen still when Bella leans forward and lays a hand on my knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry. I'm just fucking with you."

The implication in her turn of phrase is not lost on me. It's like a jolt of electricity right through my body. Everything clenches at the mere thought it conjures.

Oh God!

Grabbing Irina's hand, I uncurl it from my shoulder and stand up. "Let's dance," I squeak, practically dragging her to the dance floor.

"What the hell was that?" she hisses, when we reach the dance floor.

"Clearly, she and Alice have been drinking," I say, desperately trying to think of some way to deflect Irina's attention, but coming up with nothing. "I hope Carlisle doesn't notice. He'll go ballistic."

"At the very least," she agrees, still glaring over my shoulder. "But what the hell did she think she was doing, flirting with you like that?"

"She wasn't flirting," I snort, "She's just drunk, she was just trying to be funny. You know? The way Tanya is. She didn't mean it."

The first time I met Tanya, she flirted with me outrageously in front of the whole family. I was mortified until I realized it was a joke designed to break the ice. Surprisingly it worked, and now she just does it all the time.

"Tanya's my sister, that's different. She better cut that shit out."

"Really, it's nothing, but if you want I'll have a word with her," I suggest.

"No! Not when she's in this mood. Just leave it. Carlisle will sort her out," she snaps.

A third hand brushes my upper arm and I freeze, worried that it belongs to Bella, but when I turn it is Tanya who is standing behind me.

"Do you mind if I borrow your wife?" She smiles, before turning her attention to Irina. "I need to go get changed, will you come and help me get out of this dress?"

"Sure," Irina says, nodding and stepping out of my grasp.

"You look hot in that tux, Edward," Tanya smiles, and I turn to Irina and quirk an eyebrow at her.

"See," I say, forcing a smile. "A couple of drinks and everybody is shamelessly flirting."

Apparently choosing to ignore this, Irina simply leaves with Tanya without a word or a smile. I return to the table and this time Alice is back. Since Carlisle and Esme are still dancing, I take the opportunity to grab both girls by the arm and march them out through the French doors onto the terrace.

"What the hell is going on with you two?" I hiss as soon as we are outside. "If Carlisle sees you in this state he'll freak out. What have you been drinking?"

"Just a couple of glasses of champagne." Alice frowns. Her eyes are heavy lidded and she looks decidedly green around the gills.

"Are you okay?" I ask, my anger quickly turning to concern as she sways a little.

"I think I'm going to be sick!" she yells, wriggling free from my grasp and bolting back through the doors, presumably heading for the bathrooms.

I turn to Bella and groan. Her eyes are smouldering as she looks down to where my hand is curled around her arm. Of its own volition my thumb sweeps across her soft skin and her breath comes out in short sharp bursts. She looks back up to my face, her eyes bright with anticipation, and with that one look, months of pent up frustration and denial come screaming to the fore. "Don't look at me like that, Bella," I whisper, clenching my eyes shut.

A burst of laughter rings out through the still-open doors. Startled into action, I grip her arm tighter, and pull her away from the terrace. Small spot lights line the path, spreading a soft green glow that lights the way. Blindly, I turn the first corner we come to and press her against the wall.

Tilting her face up towards me, I stare into her glittering eyes. She looks so eager and expectant and the sheer intensity of the emotions in her eyes brings me to my senses. I look for signs indicating how drunk she might be. "Are you okay, do you need to throw up too?" I ask, my voice hardened by the mix of emotions running through me.

Her eyes roam all over my face, dipping to my lips frequently and a jolt of awareness buzzes through me. Energy seems to be rolling off her in waves, and my heart rate starts to pick up the longer I stare into her eyes.

Somehow, the tiny part of my brain that is not on Bella overload, kicks in again. "What the hell did you think you were playing at earlier, flirting like that in front of my wife?" I demand, as she stares at me in a way that can only be described as adoring. "You can't say stuff like that to me...ever!"

The step backwards I take is futile because she takes a forward step at the same time. Tears are starting to form in her eyes.

"You're drunk!" I accuse, "We need to get you back inside."

"No!" she shouts, with the unmistakable air of desperation filling her voice. "Please, just stay with me, for a little while. I don't want to go back in there yet." Her hands lift to her hair, and she grabs a fistful of it in apparent frustration. "I just can't stand it anymore."

I watch, mystified, while she stares at me, biting her lip. Once or twice she opens her mouth as if she might speak but then she bites her lip again, squeezing her eyes shut tight. Finally, she looks up at me and her eyes are sparkling with a strange mixture of passion tinged with sadness.

"I can't hide it anymore, Edward, I can't pretend that I don't have these feelings for you. It's eating me up inside. It's killing me that I have to pretend that I don't feel this way, that every time I see you, I have to hide that I want to touch you and kiss you. Jesus, Edward, you are in my head all the time, I can't think about anything else and I can't... I can't hide it from you anymore." Her eyes flicker desperately as she focuses on mine. "Not when I know you feel it too."

"Bella..." I warn slowly.

"No!" Her voice rings out into the night, like a plaintive cry from a wounded animal. "No, don't say anything."

She steps closer. I can feel the heat of her body seeping into mine. Her breath fans my face as she tilts her chin up and gazes into my eyes. "You know me better than anyone, Edward, and I know you too. Her hand snakes up between us and stops just over my heart. She rests her forehead right next to it. "I can hear your heart pounding, just like mine is." She inhales deeply, her other hand grips mine and pulls it upwards. I know what she's intending to do and I should stop her, but I just can't find the will.

Lifting her head, she steps back slightly and places my palm flat against her chest, right above her breast. Sure enough, I can feel the strong thump of her heart. I close my eyes in a futile attempt to block out at least some of the sensory overload, but all I achieve is heightened awareness of the feel of her smooth skin beneath my hand, and the smell of her sweet breath filling my nostrils.

God – in all my life I've never wanted anything as much as I want her. To touch her, to kiss her... to be inside her. And here she stands right in front of me, and all my effort and will to fight these feelings is gone. She's so close now, standing on the tips of her toes, her lips mere millimetres from mine, and I know I won't stop. I can't.

What's worse is... I don't want to.

Slowly my hand slides upwards of its own volition. Allowing myself to focus on this one action, I enjoy the softness of her skin as my hand curls around the back of her neck into the silky hair at her nape. Tilting her head slightly, I dip my head slowly. My eyes anchor to hers as I move closer, feeling the pull of her that I simply can't resist anymore.

A groan escapes me as my lips come into contact with hers. At first the kiss is soft and gentle, but when she sighs throatily, winding her arms around my neck and up into my hair, it deepens. Tracing her lips with my tongue, I groan loudly when they part, allowing me access, and all at once it's like a frenzy comes over us. Her tongue meets mine, matching it stroke by stroke as our lips mash together in our desperation.

My last defence crashes around me and I back her up against the wall again. My hands slide down the length of her body and around her hips till I'm cupping her ass and grinding my painfully hard erection into her belly. Wrenching her mouth from mine and pulling my face into her neck, she hitches her leg around my hip. Her high pitched sighs spur me on.

"God, Edward. I've dreamed about you!" she exclaims in hot, breathy tones. "I need you."

"Fuck, Bella!" I grunt, grinding into her and nibbling her neck at the same time.

My every sense is screaming at me, I'm so utterly consumed by it all. The sound of her sighs, the taste of her lips, the feel of her soft warm body pressed to mine, the smell of her skin surrounding me. My hand glides along the silky skin of her thigh, travelling up beneath her dress until my fingers skim the edge of her panties.

I pull back and look at her face, even in this dim light I can see the flash of need in her eyes and I know it is mirrored in mine.

But it is her sweetly innocent and adoring smile that hits me like a bucket of cold water, and all I can think is, What the fuck am I doing?

Pressing my forehead to hers, I lower my hand to smooth her dress down and drag in a few cleansing breaths. "Bella, we shouldn't– I shouldn't!"

"No, Edward, don't," she pleads, pressing her lips to mine again.

Gently uncurling her hands from around my neck, I grip them between us as I take a step back. "Bella, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

"Yes, yes you should. I love you, Edward, and I want you!" She wrenches one hand free and cups my cheek. "And I know you want me too. I can feel it, every time we're together, it's there!"

Shaking my head I remove her hand. "Bella, I... I can't! I'm married, I shouldn't... I can't be with you."

This tips her over the edge and fat tears begin to roll down her cheeks. She pulls her hands away from me and covers her face. Harsh sobs start to rack her body. "Oh God!" she wails.

"Bella!" I grip her shoulders. "Look at me." Her fingers slide apart and one tear-filled eye blinks at me. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Then don't!" she begs.

"Edward?"

My blood turns to ice in my veins at the sound of Irina's voice. Bella's gasp ricochets into the quiet night air around us as we hear her footsteps approach.

Rounding the corner, Irina stops in her tracks, glaring at us. "What the hell are you doing out here?" she yells. "I just found Alice throwing up in the bathroom and Carlisle is on the warpath!"

"I brought them both out for some fresh air. I didn't want my father to see them." I say, my words coming out a hundred miles an hour. "Alice went back inside to be sick and Bella got upset–"

"This is my sister's wedding!" she spits out, turning to Bella. "You and Alice have been stealing alcohol all day by the looks of it, do you know how much trouble she could be in if they think someone was buying it for you?"

Desperately trying to control herself, Bella rubs her thumbs across her cheeks to dry her tears. Her hair is all tangled up now and her makeup is smeared all over her face. My heart drops into my stomach when I see how utterly miserable she looks.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, taking a few shaky steps forward.

"So you should be!" Irina shouts.

"Okay, Irina, she's upset. You don't need to keep piling it on," I say, moving towards Irina.

She turns her furious gaze on me. "Why is she so upset? And why do you have to be the one to comfort her?"

"I already told you, I brought them both out here to make sure they were okay," I explain.

Bella passes and I notice she is shaking violently now. "I have to go to the bathroom," she mutters.

Irina still looks furious as we walk back along the path behind Bella, but when we reach the terrace, things become so much worse. Carlisle is waiting and he glowers at Bella as we approach.

"If it wasn't a three hour drive, I'd call your father to come and collect you right now!" he spits with sheer venom dripping from every word. "But since we're stuck with you tonight, I think you and Alice should stay up in your room for the rest of the evening. She is already up there." He turns to me. "Walk her round the front way. I do not want her walking through that ballroom looking like that. There's no point embarrassing Eleazar and Sasha any more than they have been already."

Embarrassing you, you mean! I don't get the chance to vocalize this sentiment because Irina speaks up first.

"We'll both take her," she insists, taking Bella's arm roughly.

Bella yanks her arm free, but doesn't utter a word as we make our way to the front of the building.

As we take Bella to her room, the atmosphere is so thick you could chip it with an ice pick. Irina keeps sending venomous glances my way, while Bella walks with her head down, remaining silent. We reach Bella's room and I wait outside while Irina follows Bella inside.

I pace the corridor, going over everything in my mind. How could I have been so stupid and selfish? Bella is clearly drunk, I knew that! And yet I still gave into my emotions and practically forced myself on her. And now Irina suspects there's something going on, and it would break her heart if she found out how I feel, never mind that I acted on those feelings.

I fist my fingers in my hair, feeling like I could tear it all out. Conscious that Irina will come out again shortly, I stop pacing and will myself to calm down. Leaning back against the wall, I close my eyes. Breathing deeply, I clasp my hands over my face. But images of Bella assail me, the taste of her haunts me, the feel of her in my arms is still too fresh in my memory and for some reason I can't seem to regret it.

No, what kills me is the only regret that I'm feeling is that I can't have her and I hurt her through no fault of her own. I have to find a way to forget what happened tonight, to forget my feelings for her. It can only lead to heartbreak.

I start when I hear the door opening. Irina steps out into the hallway and walks slowly towards me. "We're not going back downstairs," she informs me. "We need to talk!" Her voice is low and restrained.

"Shouldn't we see Tanya off?" I ask, walking behind her.

She stops abruptly and turns. The sharp crack of her hand across my face rings out into the empty hallway, the pain is a delayed reaction and it is only when the heat creeps across my cheek I realise she hit me.

"You bastard! They've already gone. And you were outside with a fucking drunk teenager! Do you know how embarrassed I was? Standing next to our parents and unable to explain where the fuck you were?"

She jams the key card into our room door but the light stays red. Yanking the card out and thrusting it back in, she groans loudly in frustration and I fear that she might snap the card, she's pushing it in so hard. Slowly covering her hand with mine, I take the card from her and open the door.

She storms inside and I close the door quietly behind me. Whirling to face me, she folds her arms across her chest and throws me a menacing glare. "What the hell is going on, Edward?"

A wave of weariness washes over me and for the first time tonight, I start to feel the effects of the alcohol I've consumed. I move towards her but she backs away, holding her hands out.

"Look, I'm so–" I begin, but she stops me.

"No! I don't want your apologies, Edward. I want you to tell me what's going on here. What's happening to us?"

"Nothing's going on, I just wanted to make sure they were okay. I'm sorry that I embarrassed you." I feel sick to my stomach at how easily the lies are tripping from my lips.

"Fuck, Edward, you're so goddamned naive!" she yells. "She's just a young girl with a silly crush on you, and you shouldn't encourage her. You're so nice to her all the time and she takes advantage of it. God knows what could have happened out there. You know the reputation she has and she had the fucking gall to flirt with you right in front of me! You're not being fair on me, Edward, you embarrassed me."

I open my mouth to speak but she's on a roll, there's no stopping her when she gets like this.

"What happened to you?" she asks, her voice lowering. "You weren't like this when we were in school – you wanted what I wanted. It was one thing when you said you didn't want to be a surgeon. I understood that. But then you tell me you want to practice family medicine... in Forks? This wasn't the plan, Edward."

She starts yanking the pins out of her hair, angrily throwing them onto the vanity. "I've stuck by you this whole time, Edward – even if this isn't what I thought it would be – who you were on track to be. For Christ"s sake, you turned down a surgical internship to be a fucking family doctor? It's fucking embarrassing. I went shopping with Tanya the other day. It must be nice for her, being married to a thoracic surgeon. She nearly cleaned out Pottery Barn decorating her kitchen in their new house. Look at us... living with your parents, is this really how you saw our lives turning out?"

I digest her words, hearing the disappointment in every one of them. My head is spinning. She's right in so many ways. I've played my part too well, but rather than making Carlisle proud, I've unwittingly duped Irina into thinking she married a man who was going places.

She doesn't know who I am, and the blame for that lies squarely with me. I take a step towards her and this time she doesn't back away.

"I don't think this is working anymore, Irina," I begin. "We don't want the same things."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she gasps, her eyes widening in panic. "I do love you, Edward, so much, and I just want what's best for you, what's best for us!"

"But what's best for you... isn't what's best for me," I protest.

Taking me by surprise she wraps her arms around me, pulling me close. "I miss you Edward. I miss how we used to be," she whispers leaning in. "We can get it back." Her voice is suddenly desperate and I close my eyes, unable to look at her. "Don't leave me, Edward. I need you."

Something inside me snaps when I hear those last three words. The same three words that Bella uttered earlier. Anger and guilt course through me. I'm angry at myself for every stupid decision I have made that has brought me here, and I feel guilty that I have managed to pull Irina down with me.

Even now, when she is peppering my face and neck with desperate kisses, I don't feel anything. There is nothing of the white-hot pleasure that ripped through me at the mere touch of Bella's skin when she placed my hand on her pounding heart. There is nothing in my life that is real.

"Make love to me, please," she pleads, pressing her body closer, pulling me down to her lips.

It kills me that everything about her is wrong. Her hair is the wrong colour, her lips don't taste right, her body doesn't seem to fit anymore – if it ever did. She deserves so much more than I can ever give her, yet, perversely, it seems that I am all she wants.

Her hand slips down towards my flaccid cock. She cups me gently. A salty tear slips between our joined lips, and it takes all the strength I have not to pull her hand away.

My anger boils over because I don't want her. I want someone I can never have. Once again, I am confronted with the sham that is my life and so I play along.

Images of Bella come crashing through my defences, and as I kiss my wife, I imagine it is Bella's lips beneath mine, her hand undoing my pants, her fingers that curl around my now burgeoning erection.

My kisses become more insistent. She pants into my neck as she emits a joyous moan when I grow impossibly hard in her hand.

"Yes, baby," she croons into my ear.

But, it's not her voice I hear. Lifting her up, I carry her to the bed where I sit her down gently, but it is our last gentle motion. She starts tearing at my clothes and I follow suit, ridding her of her dress. My hand slides up her thigh and memories of Bella's soft skin ignite the desire licking through me like flames. In my mind it is her panties I clutch in my fist and drag downwards, it is her legs I want to part and bury my face between. I want to feel her cum on my tongue.

Yanking Irina's legs apart, I do just that. Her legs snake over my shoulders when I part her with my thumbs. Working my tongue over her wet flesh in long, slow licks, I hear her moans and I imagine them to be deeper, throatier. Her clit is swollen when I suck it into my mouth, and she yells out when I slide two fingers inside her and begin to pump. Like a man possessed, I suck harder and pump faster until she explodes on me and around my fingers.

She's still writhing when I crawl up her body – my eyes closed tight, and plunge into her without warning.

"Yes!" she screams. Her nails dig into my back as she winds her legs around me.

I bury my face in her neck and my hips piston, as if I can drive or fuck the images of Bella out of my mind. But I can't forget the way she looked at me and the feel of her skin beneath my fingers. The fucking taste of her lips is still fresh in my mind and all of it spurs me on, exciting me, killing me and inevitably unravelling me. I come hard, and the roar that rips from my body feels like pure anguish.

And then all I am left with is emptiness.

More to follow...