“Edward … ”

“Yes?”

A pause.

“ … thank you … ”

Her left hand moved slowly to my cheek and caressed it.  Then it rested above her other breast; Botticelli himself could not have painted more perfect fingers.

My thoughts stilled as I lay there and stared her hand, with my mother’s ring on it, for a moment.  A sudden, tearless sob wracked me, and I clutched her even more tightly to me, careful not to crush her still-fragile body. 

She was my living, beating heart, and she’d offered herself to me utterly, body and soul – to me, an undeserving, damned fiend who knew nothing but how to take.  How in the names of heaven and hell could Bella thank me, when she had given me everything and I still wanted more?

But I could not afford to wallow, as Bella would say, right now. She needed me, and I had to be vigilant for her, and I would be. 

Already her breathing was shallower, though she was trying to steady it.  I raised my face to watch her, then sat up on my elbow to see her better.  A sheen of sweat covered her upper lip and forehead. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her brow furrowed, as if in intense concentration.  I knew she was fighting the pain … but the pain would win.  I ran my hand down her cheek, her neck, rested it on her unmarred collarbone.  The wound on the other side of her neck was a shredded, angry red; but it was closed.  Her last human scar would fade, in time, once she was like me.

I became aware of birds chirping outdoors, of the sky lightening outside the curtains.  It was dawn.

As I watched Bella, I tried to remember every painful moment of my own transformation.  Time, unfortunately, was hazy during those three days, so I could not be sure when to expect her symptoms to declare themselves.  I would call for Carlisle soon; he would have a better idea, would know what to look for.  Whatever the case, I would remain here and do what was necessary.

Voices began to argue out loud downstairs, clipped and polite tones from Carlisle, drawling mockeries from Jane.  It didn’t matter to me what they were saying.

I held Bella close, stroking her hair.  I tried to distract myself with a mental list.  The burning would start soon, possibly in minutes, and would continue the entire three days.  Then the shivering and spasming shortly thereafter.  And the pain, first and last, the seemingly endless, unbearable pain; the persecution that would never cease, day or night; the hellish torture that felt like it was ripping my very blood vessels apart inside me, stretching out time, rearranging my sanity, calling into question everything I thought I knew about myself, about anything.  It left me cursing God and wishing to die, begging Carlisle to kill me.

That was what waited for Bella … and for me, her guilty spectator and accomplice.

Footsteps sounded on their way up the stairs.  I recognized Carlisle’s gait, but there were two unfamiliar ones – Jane’s and Demetri’s.  They were nearly to the unlocked door now. 

While I stared into Bella’s pale face, noting vaguely my own trembling fingers on her cheek, I remembered feeling my own frail heart slow and eventually stop beating.  Only then did the pain cease and become something … different.

She was my heart now.

As penance for my selfishness, over the next three days, I would watch it die.

A/N:  My sincere apologies for leaving our lovers in such an unpleasant situation. It will get resolved.  In the meantime, if you liked this, reviews are always nice.