"Now let me treat your hand- you've gotten the cut dirty."
"Let me do it, please."
He took my hand and smiled as he examined it. "This doesn't bother me anymore."
I watched him carefully as he cleaned the gash, looking for some sign of distress. He continued to breathe evenly in and out, the same small smile on his lips.
"Why not?" I finally asked as he smoothed a bandage across my palm.
He shrugged. "I got over it."
"You... got over it? When? How?" I tried to remember the last time he'd held his breath around me. All I could think of was my wretched birthday party last September.
Edward pursed his lips, seeming to search for the words. "I lived through an entire twenty-four hours thinking that you were dead, Bella. That changed the way I look at a lot of things."