This was written for a charity fundraiser. It is set in present day Secrets and Lies. Deals with Jasper's visit to Brazil and a few other scenes from SaL

Epov.

Where's my fucking shoe?

I keep lightly stepping around the room, checking beneath the comforter that has pooled on the floor, trying not to trip on the rug in search of the mate to the black Oxford shoe on my left foot.

"Fuck!" I hiss, after stubbing my toe on the dresser. I glance anxiously at the bed. She makes a snuffling sound and turns over. I hold my breath, worried that I've woken her. Thankfully, I'm able to hear her deep rhythmic breathing, which tells me she's still sleeping.

My jacket thumps against the furniture as I turn to move away, and I remember my cell is in the pocket. Pulling it out, I use the backlight to illuminate the floor. I spot my shoe beside the bed and move carefully forward. The sight of her hair in the dim light from my phone shocks me. She's brunette.

Jesus, how drunk was I last night?

I'd rather not recall any of the details of last night just yet, so I push the thought aside, and retrieve my shoe. I sigh with relief when the door closes behind me with a soft click. At first, I have to think about my surroundings – I've been in so many hotel corridors over the years, I can't remember if this is the one I'm currently staying in or not.

I rub my hands down my face in an attempt to shake off a little of the hangover that's clouding my brain. I think back to last night... we met in the bar. Fuck! This is my hotel.

Patting down my pockets till I locate which one holds my wallet; I pull it out, open it, and take out my room key. I head straight for the elevator, and I don't dare look at my reflection as it climbs to the top floor.

In my suite, I shed my clothes and take a shower. Standing beneath the hot spray, I make plans for the rest of my day. First thing I need to do is call Jane and have her book me a suite somewhere else. It's been a long time since I've done this kind of thing, and I don't relish the thought of running into the brunette in the bar again.

By seven a.m. I'm packed, dressed, and ready to leave. My phone rings and I thumb the answer button.

"Cullen." I already know it's Jane.

"The only hotels that have available suites are the ones on the Copacabana, Mr. Cullen," Jane tells me, polite as ever. She's a strange little thing. Supremely professional and efficient at all times, I don't think I've ever seen her show any trace of emotion. Her brother, Alec –my driver – is the same. They're like a couple of fucking robots – which is why I like them.

"Shall I reserve a suite for you?" she asks, ending my musings.

I sigh in annoyance. I'm not staying in a hotel that's near the fucking beach. "Forget it, I'll stay here," I snap. "Is Alec waiting out front?"

"Yes."

"Thank you, Jane." I terminate the call.

Throwing my bag on the bed, I leave to begin my day.

After spending twelve hours arguing the finer points of the deal we've offered Samson and Pierce to take over their South American division, all I'm fit for is a quiet dinner alone and a few drinks before bed.

My weary face is reflected back at me in the elevator doors. My mind wanders back to the brunette this morning, a rare slip. I remember admiring her from across the room when she had her back to me. Of course, when she turned around, it ended the little fantasy I had going. Normally I wouldn't have returned her gaze, or even let her approach me, but it really has been a long time, so I indulged myself. Stupidly. It's never enough.

The swish of the elevator doors acts like a brush, sweeping these useless thoughts out of my mind. I step out, already planning my quiet evening. I hate corporate hospitality, because it means spending time outside of the office with people I have to work with, so I turned down Samson's offer of dinner tonight in favour of dinner alone in my hotel suite.

Heading for the exit, I glance briefly at the figure rising from a seat to my left. I look away but then do a double take.

"Jasper?"

He smiles warmly, striding towards me.

Fishing my Blackberry from my pocket, I check it. Just as I'd suspected, there is no appointment with Jasper. I look up. "What are you doing here?"

"Where are you going?" he asks, ignoring my question.

"Back to the hotel," I say warily.

"Good," he says in that annoyingly calm tone of his.

I stop and glare at him. "Again. What are you doing here?"

"We can talk at the hotel," he insists in a tone of voice that makes me want to grip his throat.

"Is something wrong?" I ask, starting to worry.

"No," he answers without elaboration.

"There must be," I say, irritated. "You're supposed to be in Seattle today. What's brought you down here without notice?"

His eyes flicker. It's a tiny movement, one that would normally go unnoticed, but on Jasper it is almost monumental. Normally, he is so in control it's frightening, but that little wobble? Well, it intrigues me. There's a fraction of worry in his eyes.

If something worries Jasper, then it worries me more.

"What the fuck is going on Jasper. Is it Alice?" My heartbeat starts to pick up as my mind reels with the possibility that something bad has happened.

"Relax, man. Everybody is fine. I'm here because I need to tell you something–"

"And you couldn't use the phone?" I ask, incredulous.

He shakes his head. "Not for this."

He relaxes again, which serves only to annoy me further. I think I prefer him rattled.

We reach the car that is waiting for me, and I glare at him over the roof as he strides to the other side and gets in. He looks as if he doesn't have a care in the world, which doesn't make sense since he's apparently flown all the way to Brazil just to tell me something. Whatever that something is, it must be huge.

I slide into the seat beside him, instructing Alex to take us back to my hotel.

"Is someone sick?" I ask, eyeing him for any little reaction that might reveal something more than his verbal answer.

He stares at me levelly. "No one is sick. Nobody has been hurt. Trust me; this can wait till we're at the hotel. We need to talk about this in private."

There is no little tic that belies his words. He's telling the truth. Momentarily relieved, I chuckle. "If you're here to tell me you're in love with me, I'll kick your ass!"

He laughs loudly. "One: I'm not in love with you, and two: you could never kick my ass."

"I beg to differ," I snort. "So if everyone is okay, what can possibly be so pressing that it couldn't wait till I get home in less than two weeks?"

He doesn't answer me. He simply stares straight ahead as if I hadn't said a word.

I turn away from him and drum my fingers furiously on the door handle. When we reach the hotel, I dive out of the car and stalk inside. Jasper keeps up with me easily, but remains annoyingly silent until we reach my suite.

In my irritated state, I jam the key card into the slot so hard it bends violently, precariously close to breaking. "Okay, let's hear it," I demand, heading straight for the bar in the corner. "What's going on?" I pour two glasses of Scotch, before turning to face him and offering him one.

He accepts it from me and proceeds to down it in one gulp. This action does little to dispel my growing trepidation. Throwing back my own drink, I wait for him to speak.

"Bella Swan is back in Forks."

My throat constricts on hearing her name, causing me to choke on the Scotch that is half way down my throat. My lungs burn as they try to dispel the invading alcohol, while Jasper watches impassively, one eyebrow quirked. He's looking at me like I've just given him an answer to a question I'm unaware he asked.

Finally recovered, my voice rasps when I speak. "You came all the way down here just to tell me that?" I ask, aiming for nonchalance and not quite pulling it off. "What the fuck does this have to do with me?"

My heart is beating wildly, and not just from the coughing fit. It took a long time to get over Bella Swan, and the ripple of emotion that is thrumming through me causes my hands to shake as I slam my glass down on the counter.

Many times I've wondered what I'd do if I ever saw her again. What it would be like to learn what became of her? Would I be happy to know that she got married and had kids? I'd like to think I'd be happy for her, but the ache that's brewing in my gut suggests otherwise.

"She didn't come back alone," Jasper says cryptically.

I turn and glare at him. Jasper has never been a man prone to verbosity, but this is verging on the ridiculous. "You're gonna have to help me out here man, because I don't see why you would fly all this way just to tell me this?"

"You better sit down," he instructs, his eyes motioning to the chair behind me. I stare at him pointedly, and he shrugs.

"Alice and I ran into her at the mall last week. She had a little boy with her," he hedges. "Turns out he's her son. He's nine."

All the certainty I had that I am over her dissolves with that one sentence. If I had any decency at all, I'd be happy that she found someone and settled down and started a family. But I'm not happy. Not for her, and not for me. All I feel is this crushing ache, right in the emptiest part of me – the part that has remained vacant since I walked away from her.

I shake my head to clear that thought away. It's done. It's been over for a long time, no point in raking over it now. My gaze returns to Jasper. I wait for him to say something else, but he merely cocks an eyebrow at me.

What does he expect me to say? There is nothing to say. So she moved on, had a kid, and now she's back. It won't change what I did, it won't change the fact that ten years ago I fucked everything up royally and I've...

I glance at him again. He's waiting for the other shoe to drop. My heart lurches. "What age did you say?"

"Nine."

Suddenly, everything shifts. It's like that moment when you dream that you're falling. Your heart stops, your blood runs cold, and every nerve ending zings on red alert. She wouldn't!

I stare back at Jasper, willing him to tell me this is not what I think it is, but he says nothing. His head bobs, almost imperceptibly, but I can see it. He's nodding while he watches me frantically try to grasp what he's telling me.

"No," I deny, shaking my head. "She wouldn't do that. You're wrong... there's no way you could possibly know for sure."

"You know that picture Esme has of you in the dining room? The one with the chess trophy. What age were you in that?"

My mind is still reeling. Why the fuck is he blabbering on about pictures? "What?"

He sits down on the edge of the bed. "Bella's boy looks like the living embodiment of that picture."

My hands fly to my hair because it feels like it's standing on end. Raking my fingers through it, I take a step backwards. "You're serious?"

He nods. "Alice nearly had a fit when she saw him. There's no doubt in my mind; he's yours. If he's not, then it's one helluva coincidence that he looks so much like you. Besides, she already admitted it."

My head snaps up. "You talked to her?"

"She came to see Alice."

I could kill him – he's so fucking calm. My world is tilting on its axis, and he's acting like he's reciting the fucking phonebook to me. I begin pacing. "What did she say? Why did she want to see Alice?" I whirl to face him. "Why is she back?"

He inhales deeply. "She came to see Alice because she was worried we'd tell you–"

"What? Surely she didn't think you would fucking keep it from me," I shout, clenching my fists as the urge to punch something washes over me. "Who the fuck does she think she is?"

"I wasn't finished. She's visiting her dad. He's sick. She wanted to tell you herself–"

"Well, where the fuck is she? Why isn't she here dumping this on me from a great fucking height? Goddammit, Jasper, she fucking hid this from me... she... she fucking stole what was mine too!"

"I offered to tell you," he says. "And judging by your reaction, I did the right thing."

"Fuck you!" I roar. "You come down here and lay this on me, and now you're fucking judging me?"

"Try to see this from her side," he says, infuriating me further. "I'm serious, Edward. You know, Alice told me the whole story. I don't think any of it has been easy on Bella. I doubt she just ran off to the other side of the country without a care in the world. You don't need me to spell it out... you know yourself, she got the shit end of the stick."

"You think I deserve this?"

He shakes his head. "No. I'm saying that things happened that can't be changed. Anger and regret are not constructive emotions. How you handle it now will determine the outcome. If you go after her all guns blazing, you'll ruin any chance of making something good out of it."

"Good?" I bellow. "What possible good can come out of this? She deprived me of knowing my own child."

He takes a deep breath. "He's still here, there's still a chance for you. If you can get past the wrongdoings, then you have a chance of building a relationship with him... it's not too late."

I glare at him sceptically. "Yeah, because she'll just let me swoop in and start playing happy families. If she's kept him hidden all this time, it's because she doesn't want me anywhere near him!"

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," he says softly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"She didn't strike me as an unreasonable person. She's just making the best of what life has thrown at her. She shouldn't have kept this secret from you, but I don't believe she did it out of spite. I think she did what she thought was best... all round. And I got a vibe from her."

"A vibe?"

Now he sounds like a fucking hippy.

I stalk back to the bar and pour another drink. Downing it in one swallow, I immediately pour another. Suddenly, I just want to get shit faced and forget all about Bella fucking Swan.

His hand clasps my shoulder. "Look, I know this is hard–"

I pull my Blackberry out of my pocket and start dialling. "Did you come in the jet?"

"I don't think you should go charging in there."

"So what do you suggest, Jasper," I say sardonically. "Should I just sit tight and let her get away again?"

He cocks a knowing brow at me.

"You know what I fucking mean," I seethe. "I don't want her running off with him again."

"Like you couldn't find her," he snorts.

"Don't fucking start with me!" I shout.

He rolls his eyes. "All I'm saying is that you need to approach this rationally. You go at it like this and you'll fuck it up. If you want any chance of a relationship with your son, then you have to let them lead the way."

My son. It sounds alien to my ears, and yet the sense of longing it invokes in me is hard to deny. "What's his name?" I ask.

A look of utter pity sweeps across his face, making me grit my teeth as he answers. "Jacob."

I have no idea why she chose that name. It reminds me of how far apart we are now. Does it have any significance to her? Did she just choose it randomly? One thing I know for sure is that she will not have given him my name. Selfishly, I hope he doesn't bear another man's name.

I listen, my mind spinning, while Jasper talks calmly and rationally about the most earth shattering thing in my life. Everything he says makes sense, and I find myself agreeing to stay here and let him contact Bella to arrange a meeting when I get back.

After he's gone though, my mind just won't switch off. I can't stop going over everything that happened between us. My brain offers up every mistake I made on a silver platter, and I find it hard to stomach. Things I thought I'd reconciled myself with open up and bleed out like fresh wounds. I can't bear it. I try to recall Jasper's reasoning, but all my memory wants to replay are the times I was with her.

I find that I can recall every touch with painful clarity. The last time I made love to her is the hardest to bear. I didn't know, I didn't stop and savour every touch, every taste, the feel of her in my arms, the sound of her voice as she vocalised her love for me. My heart aches and my throat burns with the need to scream through the pain. I never knew it was the last time I would be with her.

We conceived a child. The fact of it blindsides me. I should hate myself for allowing that to happen, but right now... here in this moment... I'm not sorry. I should be, but I can't shake the feeling that somehow it's right – even though I fucked it up – that the most loving thing I'd ever experienced bore fruit.

Guilt grips me. Ashleigh. Her conception wasn't so beautiful, yet I know, if given the chance, I would have spent the last ten years loving her with all my heart. I wipe furiously at the hot tear that trickles down my cheek.

Fuck this!

I won't let another moment go to waste. I know how damaging procrastination can be. Jasper doesn't know a fucking thing. I have to get there. I have to see for myself if this is really happening.

Even though it's two a.m., I call Jane and order her to make the arrangements for the jet to take me back home.

Thank God for robots.

Drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, I stare at the house. I've passed it many times over the years, but I always refused to look at it. I didn't want any reminder of that time in my life. Or of her. It took me long enough to get her out of my head, and I knew even one look would bring it all rushing back to me.

Yet here I am, sitting outside her house, unable to take my eyes off it, and feeling every emotion that I've fought against since the last time I was here.

I wonder if they are in there now. I can almost feel my blood pressure rising when I think about it. I've been coiled like a spring ever since Jasper dropped the bombshell, and there is no way I could heed his words to stay away. I know there is no reason for this to be a lie, but my brain just won't process it.

I can't seem to comprehend why she'd keep my son from me for all this time. I have to see for myself. Just one look, and then I'll go away and decide what to do. Jasper and Alice are one hundred percent sure the boy is mine. While Alice is prone to wild exaggeration at times, Jasper is not. There is no reason for him to lie about the uncanny likeness Bella's son bears to me.

I sigh, pushing the memory of my talk with Jasper away.

Three fucking hours I've been sitting here and there hasn't been one solitary sign of life. Staring at it sharpens the memories of the last time I was in it. As soon as Alice and I had gotten back from Phoenix, I came straight here. I begged Charlie Swan to tell me where Bella was. I told him everything, laid it all out bare, but it didn't make one iota of difference. He wouldn't budge.

In the aftermath of losing Ashleigh, I thought I understood why he wouldn't let me go to Bella to explain. I'd held that tiny bundle in my arms and kissed her sweet head, and I knew without a doubt, if some messed up bastard like me had broken her heart, I would probably do the same thing Charlie Swan did.

But I can't understand it now, not when I know the full enormity of his lie. Even when he knew I'd already lost a child, he still kept the secret. I can't understand how he could lie so freely and convincingly and leave Bella to cope with the burden alone – just like I had done.

I thump the steering wheel again. What if part of it was true? What if she had met someone else and moved on? What kind of man shares my son's life? An asshole like Carlisle? Maybe there's been more than one. I curse in frustration. A few times I've had the crazy notion of looking her up, but I never followed through. I never saw the point of dragging our past out into the light. It was gone, there was nothing to gain. I regret that now. I could have found her easily, but I just never tried.

Just as I start to wonder if maybe I should leave, I see a battered blue Chevy turning into the street. I track its approach, just like I have done with every other car that has come this way. As it gets closer, I recognise the long brown hair and catch a glimpse of her worried expression just as she pulls into the driveway.

The sight of the small figure in the back seat robs me of any shred of control I thought I might have left. Even though I only catch sight of his face briefly, he looks just as Jasper described.

It's true! Though his colouring is a little darker, he looks uncannily like that picture.

In a momentary lapse of reason, I'm out of the car before I realise it and stalking towards the house.

"Please!" I hear her voice just as she steps out onto the street. She must be talking to her father, because she hasn't turned to see me yet. Then she does. And the sight of her, added to the reason why I'm here, tips me over the edge. My pace quickens as I approach.

"No!" she yells, stepping in front of me. Her hands slam into my chest, but she's not strong enough to halt me. "You can't do this. You can't just show up and demand to see him!" she yells desperately.

It's clear she's been expecting me to show up. My rage increases, and I grab her wrists reflexively as she tries to push me back.

"Take your hands off her!"

I look over her head to see Charlie charging up the sidewalk towards us. The state of him stuns me; he looks at least ten years older than he did two years ago. His hair is starkly grey, his face horribly gaunt. The tell-tale yellow pallor to his skin reminds me that Jasper mentioned he is sick, but I hadn't really thought about how serious it might be.

She's only back because she had to come back. Rage wells again.

"I came to see my son, Charlie," I warn him. You won't turn me away a second time!

He fixes me with his best Chief Swan glare and tells me I need to calm down. I almost laugh, before he adds, "Unless you want the boy to be afraid of you?"

He's still a cunning bastard. Of course, I don't want that. I release my grip on her. She steps back.

His hand is protectively clamped to Bella's shoulder as he looks at her. "I'm going in now, you coming?"

She asks for a minute, and I watch as he reluctantly walks back to the house. Bella takes another step back, and for a second I think she's going to bolt. Instinctively I grab her arm, she's not disappearing again. "You have one hour to tell him I'm here, and then I'm coming in – ready or not!" I spit through gritted teeth.

Her eyes flare. Yanking her arm free, she starts yelling at me. "No! You don't get to order me around. I know what's best for him, so I'll be calling the fucking shots! Jasper said you wouldn't be back for two more days – so, no, we're not ready."

I can't believe the gall of her. She's kept my own child a secret from me for almost ten years, and now she's yelling at me in the street for attempting to see him! Worried that he might hear us, I march her to the car. I don't want the first time he sees me to be when she's yelling at me like a fucking banshee!

She struggles all the way to the car. I tell her to put her feet in before I slam the door. I half expect her to leap back out while I'm rounding to the driver's side. Thankfully she doesn't, and I get in and slam the door. The noise panics her, and her hand darts to the door handle. Taking no chances, I grab her hand to stop her.

"What? Are you kidnapping me now?" she asks, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

"I'm not taking you anywhere," I say disdainfully. "Since you're the one holding all the cards, you're going to sit here and tell me everything I need to know about my son before I meet him."

As much as I hate to admit it, she and Charlie are right. I don't know anything about Jacob. God, I'm not even used to his name yet. I can't go charging in there and scaring the living daylights out of him. But at the same time, I don't trust her not to run. I know I'd find her, but that's not how I want this to play out. I want to meet my son and get to know him. I don't want to spend months chasing him and his mother around the country. The thought of that makes my blood boil.

"But first, you're going to tell me why the fuck you kept him away from me!" I demand. I realise I've moved closer to her when I catch the faint smell of mud and fish. She's wearing worn clothes and heavy boots and I'd guess she's been fishing. It makes me wonder what other things she's enjoyed doing over the years with my son that I've missed out on.

I uncurl my hand from around hers and slide back into my seat, fighting to control my temper. Suddenly, fuelling the fire by asking if there is a man in my son's life doesn't seem like such a good idea. I am barely managing to keep control as it is.

I stare out of the window as she spits accusations at me and tells me I left her with no choice. Maybe at the start that was true, but for ten fucking years?

"I don't give a fuck about any of that; it still didn't give you the right to deny me the knowledge that I have a son, or the chance to be a part of his life." I roar.

She rages at me about the blame she took and how I left with Irina. More angry with myself than her, I slam my fist down. "So if Charlie didn't get sick, I'd never have found out?"

It's all a blur as she tries to open the door and I find myself looming over her. Her eyes are wide and stormy as she stares at me. She looks determined, and again I am hit with the feeling that if I let her go, she won't let me see him.

"You do not want to fuck with me, Bella," I warn her in desperation. I haven't decided what course of action to take, but I won't miss any more of my son's life.

She straightens in defiance. "Don't threaten me, Edward. If we could just stop thinking of ourselves for a minute, Jacob is the priority here.

I tell her that's why I'm here, and listen when she tells me he'll be starting school in Forks. That calms me somewhat, because it means that she's not intending to take off any time soon. However, there is a small part of me that won't trust her completely, and so I find myself biting my tongue when she says I have to wait till the weekend to meet him."

We argue back and forth about who is threatening whom. I watch as her eyes roam over my clothes and car, and I can't help but wonder if she's still the same: unaffected by material possessions. I push thoughts of her out of my head and ask her about Jacob. It hurts and angers me in equal measure when she casually tells me they've talked about me. I want to ask her what she's told him about me, specifically how she's explained my absence from his life, but she's already on a knife edge, and it's clear that the only way to proceed is with calm determination.

Just like Jasper said.

"I just wanted to see for myself – to make it real." I tell her, after explaining that it wasn't my intention to confront her today. She makes a quip about my inconspicuous car. "Believe me Bella..." I laugh bitterly. "If I intended to spy on you, I wouldn't need to do it in person."

I fully intend to do some checking on what kind of life my son has had, but that's not something she needs to know. Again, she accuses me of threatening her. She has the air of a cornered animal about her.

I remember Jasper's insistence that I should try to see this from her point of view. In the past, I spent many, many hours doing just that. The guilt is not something that I have fully shaken off, but now it feels like I've paid too high a price for my sins.

I stare at her while her impassioned words cut through me.

"You cut me off Edward, and then you left without a word. What was I supposed to do? As far as I knew, you, Irina and your baby were the perfect little family. I was the one tossed to the side. Nobody in your family would give me the time of day."

I digest her words. It's very difficult to argue with them. She's right, I did abandon her, even though I tried to rectify it later, it was too little too late. But it doesn't change the fact that she kept my own child from me. No matter what I did to her, she had no right to keep us apart, and her argument that I would have treated my son like a second-class citizen stings.

"Even if my little girl had lived..." I smart with the knowledge that I've missed out again, it is all so overwhelming. "I would still have wanted to be there for my other child.

I think of the things that initially swirled through my mind all through the plane journey and the drive to get here.

"I have a son whom I know nothing about. I don't know what he likes to do, what his favourite food is, what he looks like. I have no idea when his birthday is. Christ, I don't know what I was doing the moment I became a father. Think of all the things you've enjoyed with him, Bella, and that's what you've robbed me of. I just don't understand why you wouldn't tell me. I mean, even if it had taken a year, you could"ve let me know."

"I wanted more for Jacob," she explains.

I would have walked over broken glass for you both! "I could've given him the best start in life."

She misreads me completely, throwing my expensive car and clothes in my face. But it is her absolute certainty that she can't trust me that cuts the most.

"So you thought you'd just deprive him of having a father?"

"Now you're oversimplifying it," she accuses. "Just remember that back then, options were thin on the ground for me, Edward."

Suddenly, all reason deserts me. Every awful choice I made seems to be further compounded by her betrayal. "This is not about you! This is about what you deprived us of–"

She reasons that this is about Jacob, and I can't argue with her. We chose this path; he did not. When she echoes Jasper's question of what type of relationship I might expect with my son, it sobers me. I can't deal with this while it's still so raw.

"Go!" I insist. "I'm all over the place. I'm too... you should go." I see her confusion. "I'll be coming back. It's clear we need to talk this through before I see him."

I listen to her insistence that she needs to take Charlie to hospital. I ruminate over this. If I hadn't seen him with my own eyes I might not have believed her. But still, she's kept this secret for so long; I have no way of knowing what to believe.

"I'm warning you now, Bella," I tell her. "If you do anything to try to stop me from seeing him, I will fight you. Through the courts if I have to."

That's the last resort I would ever take, but if she runs, it is a path I might have to consider.

She gets out of the car and starts to walk across the street. I watch her briefly, but seeing her walk away from me fuels my regret. I rev my engine and speed off.

It's a relief to see Alice's car in the driveway. I must have driven here on autopilot, because it was not a conscious decision to come. But I need to talk to someone.

She opens the door before I reach it. "I knew you'd come," she says, greeting me in the doorway. "Jasper called and said you'd taken the jet."

"I had to see her," I explain, passing her.

She closes the door and follows me into the living room. As soon as I turn she wraps her arms around me and hugs me. "You're shaking," she gasps, pulling back to look at me.

I step out of her embrace. "I'm so fucking angry, Alice. I can't believe this is happening."

She touches my arm. "What did you say to her?" She looks concerned, and I realise that her concern is for Bella.

"What could I say?" I yell. "I asked her why the fuck she did this to me." I slump onto the sofa.

Sitting down beside me, she slides her arm across my shoulder. "I know how much of a shock it was for me when I found out, so I understand that it's a thousand times worse for you, but getting angry with her won't help."

My head swivels to look at her. "I'm angry that I put her in such a position that she felt she couldn't trust me to be there for my son," I snort. "I've always known I fucked it up, but I had no idea just what I walked away from."

"We really did a number on her, didn't we?" She sighs.

I shake my head. "This is all down to me. I know that, but it's so fucking hard not to be angry with her, too."

"We need to tell Mom and Dad," she says quietly.

"That's the least of my worries."

"Mom got back from Seattle today. We can't take the risk of her bumping into Bella. It's a miracle Dad hasn't bumped into her already. I was intending to call you tonight, to ask you to tell them, but now that you're here we can go there now."

I look at her, ready to argue, but she's right. There's no point in tempting fate, and it would be better for Bella and Jacob if they don't have to deal with two shocked and unsuspecting grandparents.

On the drive over, Alice tells me about her encounter with Bella at the mall and then afterwards at her house. Her guilt is as palpable as my own. But our feelings are not paramount here. After seeing the state of Charlie earlier, I know the last thing the Swans need is my whole family descending on them to make demands.

"Her dad didn't look good," I say, turning into the small lane that leads to the house. "God knows what effect it will have on Jacob. As much as it pains me, we need to give them space."

Through my peripheral vision, I see her turning to look at me. "I mean it, Alice, I want the chance to make the best of this, and right now charging in and forcing her hand won't achieve that." I turn to look at her. "Stay away!"

She sighs heavily: a sure sign that she's agreeing – albeit grudgingly.

The house is quiet when we enter, save for the soft sound of classical music from the kitchen. Esme is arranging some flowers in a vase and, sitting with his back to us, Carlisle is talking to her while drinking coffee at the table. Her eyes lift when I step into the kitchen, and she beams broadly.

"Edward!" she gasps. "What a lovely surprise! I thought you were still in Brazil."

Rounding the table in double-quick time, she practically skips towards me before pulling me into a tight embrace. I stoop to let her kiss my cheek, and then she releases me to hug Alice. Carlisle stands and comes forward.

He smiles weakly. Our relationship remains strained. I didn't talk to him for five years after I left Irina, and the fact that he's never forgiven me for severing ties with his beloved Denali's doesn't concern me at all. I tolerate him for Esme's sake. My absence from their life tormented her, and in the end, I succumbed to her pleas to come back and at least try to be something I know I have never, or will never be – part of their family.

Truth be told, with the exception of Carlisle, I missed spending time with them, and putting up with Carlisle – who has learned to curb his tongue around me, mostly – is a small price to pay.

"Edward," he says, in that polite tone of voice he reserves for his patients.

Not bothering to respond, I turn to Esme. "I have something to tell you," I say gravely. Her eyes widen in panic. "It's not something bad," I assure her. "Let's sit down."

Leading her to the table, we sit side by side. Alice and Carlisle sit opposite. I address Esme when I speak. "Bella Swan is back in town h–"

"We already know this," Carlisle interrupts. "I answered a house call for her father and she was there." I turn my eyes on him disdainfully. He glares back. "I don't see why this is of any consequence to us. That girl was nothing but trouble; she wrecked your marriage. As far as I'm concerned, the quicker she crawls back to the rock she's been hiding under the better."

My chair scrapes violently across the floor as I leap to my feet. "That girl is a woman now, and she didn't wreck my marriage... I did!" I yell. "And it wasn't much of a fucking marriage to wreck!" Esme touches my hand, but I wrench it away. "No!" I spit, looking down at her. "He went behind my back with Irina and meddled in things that had nothing to do with him. I shouldn't have cared about his opinions then, and I sure as shit don't care about them now!"

"Oh, please!" Carlisle snorts. "She's been back in town all of five minutes and you're already here causing drama. She didn't come back for you; she's back to care for her father. I really don't see why you're getting so worked up about it."

"Shut the fuck up!" I seethe.

"Edward!" Esme gasps. "Don't speak to your father like that."

I shake my head cynically at her. "He's not my fucking father." I turn away from the pain in her eyes. "Look, I came here to tell you something that is important to me." I glare at Carlisle. "If you stop butting in, I'll say my piece and then leave."

"What is it?" Esme asks, her concern overriding everything else.

"Bella has a son," I tell her, watching her expression closely. "…and he's mine." Her eyes grow wide.

"I don't believe this!" Carlisle scoffs. "She turns up out of the blue with a child and claims he's yours? She probably heard how wealthy you are and came here to pass off her child as yours. I'd hold off on passing out the cigars, if I were you – until you've had DNA tests done."

Before I have a chance to react to this, Alice pipes up.

"I've seen him," Alice pipes up. "The child. I saw him with Bella, and he's the spitting image of Edward." She turns to Esme. "Honestly, Mom, it's really quite uncanny how much he looks like him."

Esme looks like she might cry, but instead she stands up and hugs me, before turning to Carlisle and Alice. "I'd like to talk to my son in private," she says quietly.

Carlisle's mouth drops open, but on seeing the quiet determination in her stare, he clamps it shut again. Folding his paper furiously, he gets up and strides out of the room. Alice smiles at us sadly before following.

As soon as they're gone, Esme turns to me and cups my face. "Oh, Edward," she says sadly, a single tear trickles down her cheek. "I'm so sorry."

She sits down, pulling me with her.

"Talk to me," she says.

"I don't know what to say," I whisper. "I'm still reeling."

She takes my hand in hers and raises it to her lips. "I know exactly what's missing from your life," she presses her lips to my knuckles. "It always has been, and I'm sorry that I couldn't provide it for you."

She releases my hand, and I smooth it over her hair. "You gave me everything that you could. I've always known you love me."

"That's not what I'm talking about, though I could have been better in that respect to. I'm talking about how I failed you when you reached out to me. We've already talked about this – I shouldn't have put pressure on you to save your marriage when you admitted you didn't love Irina anymore. You reached out to me, and I let you down. We let Bella down, too." She shakes her head ruefully. "We were so awful," she looks into my eyes. "We shouldn't have listened to the lawyer, or Carlisle."

"It's done now," I say, reluctant to go through it all again. We've talked about this many times, but it doesn't get any easier. How could it? Any way we slice it, it always looks the same.

"But it's not," she insists, grabbing my hands. "He's still a child, there's time for you to make it up to him." Her eyes ignite with anticipation. "What about Bella? Is she married? Where does she live? Did she give you any indication that she'd be happy to have you back in her life?"

"Wait! Nobody said anything about me being back in her life. I only want to get to know my son. I want to be a part of his life."

"In order to do that, you'll have to build a good relationship with Bella. You can't have one without the other." She smiles. "So, did she seem receptive to that idea?"

I clasp my hands in front of my face. "I acted like a complete prick," I admit, closing my eyes. "I'm so angry with myself... I think I took it out on her." I shake my head. "I know I did."

"How do you feel about it now?" she asks, a small smile playing on her lips. "Forget the circumstances for a moment and just feel."

I stare into her eyes and see the gentle hope in them. It ignites a tiny spark in me, and I nod. "I have a son," I say, feeling a strong burst of emotion in my chest. "I want this, Esme." I allow myself to admit it.

The anticipation of seeing Jacob makes the journey to Forks seem twice as long as it used to be. As I drive along the familiar roads, I revel in my newfound feelings of hope. After my disastrous first meeting with Bella, I've spent a lot of time trying to see this from her point of view. It hasn't been easy to confront my own feelings of guilt in the matter, and digging into her personal life behind her back only served to compound the guilt.

I had no right to be pleased, or to feel the relief I did, when I discovered that she's never even lived with another man, far less married one. That was the only information I accepted from my source. I don't expect that she has lived like a born again virgin, but I only wanted to make sure that I didn't have to contend with a reluctant stepfather.

The last few weeks have been a revelation for me. Jacob is a great kid and has welcomed me into his life without compunction. The first time he called me dad filled me with more pride than I'd ever known, but when I am back in Seattle, the little pleasures turn into giant balls of regret.

That day spent with him at the theme park was excruciating and exhilarating in equal measure. I felt alive and enjoyed every minute of it, even though Bella was still quite defensive and skittish around me. However, when I got home that night, I was wracked with guilt and regrets for all the days I'd missed.

But I shouldn't dwell on that. I should dwell on the fact that Bella has raised such a wonderful boy, and is now willing to let me share in the joy he brings. They invited me to spend the whole day with them today, and I've been looking forward to it all week.

I pull up outside Bella's house, and rifle through the bags I brought.

I eye the gift wrapped Xbox. I doubt Bella will be happy with my buying it for Jacob, but he mentioned to me on the phone that he misses the console he left at home, and I just wanted to do something for him to make him feel more at home here. I lift the bag containing the Chef's jacket I had made for Jacob. Unsure if it's a stupid idea, I leave them on the passenger seat.

Bella seems surprised by the flowers, so I make a joke of it by admitting that Esme always insisted we bring a gift for our hosts at all times. Jacob is keen to know what I've brought him, and I wait with baited breath while he opens it. My eyes flick to Bella, trying to read her reaction. I see her stiffen a little when Jacob yells his delight on opening the package.

Jacob launches himself into my arms. He's becoming more tactile with me, and sometimes it takes my breath away. Like now, as I close my eyes and savour the sheer joy of having my son in my arms. All too soon he pulls away, leaving me wanting more. I glance at Bella, there is so much I want to say to her, but she's still so guarded. I've only just begun my journey across the tightrope, and if I try to rush it now, I'll fall.

I want to tell her just how much this means to me. How dear to my heart Jacob already is... and most of all how much I want her to stay here forever and never take him away from me again. I shake that thought away when she suggests I should set up the console with Jacob. I detect a hint of annoyance in her tone, which makes me appreciate that she hasn't vocalised it in front of Jacob.

Jacob is already in the living room attacking the packaging, so I take the opportunity to follow Bella into the kitchen, intent on thanking her for allowing me to give him the gift.

"You can do this," she whispers. She is leaning on the counter with her back to me and her head bowed.

"Do what?" I ask automatically.

She spins, clearly surprised that I've followed her. I try to explain why I brought him such an extravagant gift, but she stops me.

"This means so much to him... to you," she says, surprising me. "I've messed up the other days you've shared with him, so... I'm keeping my feelings out of it, just for today, and we'll see if it makes it easier."

This pleases me because it's such a monumental shift in her stance so far. It hasn't been easy curbing my natural instinct to fight to see Jacob more, so I'm glad that it might actually be paying off. I've spent a lot of time behind the scenes making changes to my working life so that I will have more time to be here with Jacob, but up till now I haven't been sure that she really wants to give me a fair chance.

The glimmer of hope I have been clinging to has suddenly become a full blown ray of light. I can't keep the smile from my face as pleasure courses through me.

I remember the jacket and aprons, and worry that she'll think I'm showing off again. She didn't approve when I gave him a Mariner's shirt that had been signed by the team, and I worry that the jacket might be a similar mistake. I go for it anyway and tell her what I've brought.

She seems receptive and so I go out the car to retrieve them, relieved that the day is off to a good start. Jacob is delighted with the jacket and soon the three of us are at work cooking. The kitchen is small, and I feel like I'm getting in the way as Bella moves around it gathering up the items she needs.

It feels easy today. The tension of previous meetings is completely absent, and I start to relax and enjoy Bella's company too.

My eyes seem to want to track her every movement as she moves around the kitchen, retrieving things she needs. I always seem to be standing where she needs to be, and we perform a strange dance that involves brushing against each other as we swap places.

I can't help but touch her when she passes. My hands seem to move of their own volition, sweeping across her back as she passes. Spotting her struggle to reach something from a shelf, I come up behind her to help. But the fresh scent of her hair slams into me, and brings with it the memory of having it hanging like a curtain around my face while she rode me in my car. I almost drop the dishes as I put them down in front of her. My arms are almost around her.

I've been free falling since she came back, and I'm almost ready to hit the ground. I force myself to step back without touching her, aware that Jacob might see if I did. I'm grateful when he asks me to help him pour the ingredients into a bowl. It's a welcome distraction from my rioting emotions.

"Nana usually lets me taste the mix," Jacob says, after we've mixed up the ingredients.

I watch as Bella scoops some up with her finger and laugh quietly when she expresses her doubts that it's safe. Jacob moves away to get something, and I'm hit with the urge to lick the mix from her finger.

Pulling it to my mouth, I wrap my lips around her finger without taking my eyes off her. I can't resist swirling my tongue around it and sucking gently. It tastes delicious, but when it's gone the feel of her skin on my tongue is intoxicating. I'm so screwed!

Fighting desperately to control myself, and all too aware that this isn't exactly appropriate behaviour in front of Jacob, I fix a neutral expression on my face then force a smile. "Delicious." I grin. "And it didn't kill me."

We manage to muddle through the rest of the process and the cake mix finally makes it to the oven. Jacob and I follow Bella's instructions and when she gives me a tomato to chop, I end up squirting the juice on her hand. Instantly I'm reminded of Emmett, and ask her if she can remember his strange phobia.

All at once we are laughing easily while sharing a memory that doesn't hold any pain for us.

"Who's Emmett? Jacob asks, cutting short our reverie.

My heart skips a beat. I look to Bella for guidance, because she's made it more than clear that it's too soon to foist any of this on Jacob. But she looks like a rabbit caught in the headlights, so, for once, I take the lead and answer his question.

He asks many more, and each one is more difficult than the last. I'm not sure how specific to be with my answers, and Bella seems set on letting me continue to dig a hole for myself. He expresses his desire to meet my family, but I tell him that I want to spend time getting to know him first. He looks rattled, and I fear that I've upset him. The oven timer pings, and the distraction is more than welcome... until Jacob burns himself.

After I treat his burn, Jacob goes off to the living room to be by himself. Bella insists that this is normal and it would be best if I stay with her in the kitchen. We talk about my family, Charlie's illness, and she even asks me about how Jasper told me about Jacob. I'm relieved to hear that she really did want to tell me herself, but I'm also glad that she didn't. I behaved like a real asshole, and if she'd told me herself, I know for certain we'd be talking through lawyers by now.

Later she produces a photo album, suggesting Jacob and I might like to go through it together. Jacob is eager to share. I smile when he throws himself onto the sofa, patting the cushions on either side of his hips to indicate that Bella and I should flank him. I sit down feeling more than a little hesitant about seeing all that I have missed, but Bella and Jacob seem to think it's a good idea.

She flicks the cover open, and the first picture presented to me sucks the air out of my lungs. My Bella. Though she looks only slightly different now, those tiny differences have made it easier for me to see her as a different person. But this picture is of the girl I loved with every ounce of my being.

She looks so utterly miserable it obliterates every last shred of pleasure this evening has brought me. My eyes focus on her swollen belly – she never looked more beautiful – and my heart aches for her. I wish I'd kept all my promises and hadn't hurt her. I wish I'd never given up on her. I wish I'd never listened to Charlie Swan, but to my own conscience instead. I was so fucking stupid to think that I was letting her have her happiness without me.

I should have kept looking until I found her and could know for certain that she was happy. Instead, I closed myself off and left her alone, pregnant and miserable. I hear her sharp intake of breath, but when I look at her she doesn't lift her eyes. The small muscle working in her jaw tells me she is as uncomfortable as I am... but I can't think why. I'm the one who should be uncomfortable. God knows, I'm more ashamed now than I've ever felt in my life before.

Jacob gets quickly bored with the picture and starts to flick through the pages that are full of every little thing I've missed. Anger starts to build in the pit of my stomach, and I worry that I might actually throw up, I'm so sickened by my actions... or lack of.

Jacob regales me with stories explaining the circumstance of each photograph. I smile at him every time he looks up and ask him questions about each picture, while all the time I'm dying inside. I want everything he is showing me. I want to have been there to share these things with him. I want to know that pleasure, but I robbed myself of it a long time ago.

Emotions are almost choking me by the time I make my excuses to leave. Her apology makes me feel wretched, and I try to deny that my departure has anything to do with the pictures. The image of her pregnant and miserable is burned into my retinas and I can't look her. I want to fall at her feet and beg her to forgive me, but with everything else that is going on in her life, I have no right to ask her to consider my feelings at all.

If I try to bring that up now, it will only result in the dam breaking, with all of the hurt and misery raining down on her. I can't do that to her. She is dealing with so much already; I have to bide my time and wait until she's ready to face it. Wait till she comes to me, and then I can try to make some sort of amends.

She asks me to come back tomorrow, but I know she's not ready. And neither am I.

We've made a start but there is still a very long way to go.

Thank you for reading

Kat