???? ????? ???????, p lahote (on hold)

⎯  EDWARD

JOAN STOOD OUTSIDE BELLA'S HOUSE, HER ARMS CROSSED TIGHTLY AGAINST HER CHEST, HER FINGERS TAPPING NERVOUSLY ON HER JACKET SLEEVE. She had been avoiding Paul for days now, not because she didn't want to talk to him, but because she wasn't sure what to say. Her head was still spinning from the conversation they'd had. Everything had gotten so complicated, and Bella's return with Edward only added more confusion to the mix.

She could hear Bella's voice inside, laughing softly, and for a moment, Joan hesitated. She wasn't sure if she was ready to walk back into this world where everything had shifted, where the lines between normal and... well, everything else... had been blurred beyond recognition.

Taking a deep breath, she finally stepped forward and rang the doorbell.

It was Bella who answered the door, her face lighting up when she saw Joan. "Hey," she said warmly, stepping aside to let her in. "Come on in. Edward's here too. You've met him before, right?"

Joan forced a smile, though she felt a little apprehensive at the thought of meeting the man who had haunted Bella's thoughts for months. "Not really," she replied, her voice quieter than she intended. "Not officially, anyway."

Bella tilted her head, a small frown appearing on her face. "It'll be fine, Joan. He's... well, he's different. But he's not like you probably think."

Joan just nodded, walking inside, but she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in her chest. It was strange being back here again, standing in the place where so many of Bella's complicated emotions had taken root.

The moment she stepped into the living room, she saw him.

Edward Cullen.

He was sitting on the couch, his eyes glinting in the soft light coming from the window. His face was chiseled, almost too perfect to be real, and yet there was something about him that made Joan's skin crawl. Maybe it was the unsettling stillness of his presence. He didn't move a muscle, didn't shift his gaze away from her as she entered the room. And when he finally spoke, his voice was smooth, almost too smooth.

"Joan," Edward said, standing up slowly. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you from Bella."

Joan didn't trust herself to speak at first. His voice was too soft, too controlled, like he was trying too hard to be polite. There was something almost predatory about the way he looked at her, but not in the way she expected. It wasn't the hunger she'd heard about from Bella's stories. It was the strange, unsettling calm of someone who was far too accustomed to hiding something.

"I suppose it's nice to meet you too," Joan replied, her tone flat, the sarcasm sneaking into her words. "I'm sure Bella was thrilled to have you back." She couldn't help the bitterness that crept into her voice.

Edward didn't seem bothered by her response. In fact, he seemed oddly pleased, as if he expected it. "I appreciate you looking after her while I was gone," he said, his expression still strangely calm. "Bella is... important to me. And I'm grateful that you've been there for her when I couldn't."

Joan's eyes narrowed slightly, her jaw tightening. The way he spoke about Bella felt so detached, so careful. It rubbed her the wrong way, and she had a hard time keeping her cool. "You're welcome," she said, her voice now colder, sharper. "Though I'm not sure what you think you're thanking me for. It was Bella's choice to dive back into your world. Not mine."

The words slipped out before she could stop them. The tension in the room instantly thickened, and Bella's face fell.

"Joan," she said softly, her eyes pleading with Joan to ease up. "Please, just... be nice."