Under the Apple tree

Chapter 61: Not Just a 3 Letter Word

Right leg. Left punch.

"So…you can like," he starts moving his brows like that is supposed to adequately finish his sentence.

"Can like what, Emmett?" I am smart. I know what he is saying. Trying to. I just don't talk to juveniles unless they are in need of medical services.

"You know. Hit that shit like a mad-man."

Right. Punch. Oops. Did I connect?

He makes a face. So do I. "Don't talk about Bella like that."

"Dude, have you ever fu…had…" he laughs like the jackass he is being. "'Sexual relations' with Bella…when she was not knocked up?"

Punch. Kick. "No."

He smiles. "Like I said, you can hit that shit like a mad-man."

"I'm well aware of what I can and can't do to Bella. Thank you, Emmett."

He puts down his hands for a moment. "Can we just be dudes for a second?"

"Dudes?"

"Yeah. Dudes. Dudes who just talk about sex. Like…dudes."

I let out my frustration in a long, long, sigh. He laughs. Of course.

Hands back up. Punch.

"All I'm sayin' is, when Rose was pregnant with our kid, my nuts gave me the finger on a daily basis." Punch. "And then, you know, when we actually did have sex, I had to be all…you know…restrained…so it wasn't like really having sex. 'Cause I mean, Rosie, shit dude,. She can get buck-ass…"

I step back. "Emmett." I shake my head. "There are some things that cannot be erased from one's mind. I do not need that image. I do not."

"Yeah, but you get what I'm saying, right?"

Punch. "I guess."

"I mean, you can hit that shit from the back. The front. Sideways. Upside down…" he starts to laugh. I am assuming it is due to the faces I am making.

Punch. Kick. "I don't think Bella would enjoy sex upside down, regardless of her body's physical capabilities."

"I don't know 'bout that, man. Bella does have a freaky side." His face scrunches as soon as he says it. He lowers the gloves. "You can get a free shot for that one." He motions to his face.

And I do.

"We aren't having sex right now, anyhow. So just save it."

"Huh? Why the fuck not?"

Punch. Punch. "Because her Shrink doesn't think it's a good idea."

"And…you told her that shit was crazy, right?"

Kick. Punch. "No. Why would I?"

"Because your nuts have to be dying."

Okay, this time he is funny. "Regardless, if it means it helps Bella…then I can wait."

"Edward?" He lowers the gloves.

I raise my brows to ask 'what'.

"What is it that they put in your cracker at church that I don't seem to be getting?"

Okay, he was funny twice.

When I return home, there is music playing. Loudly. I set my bag at the laundry room door. My feet find their way into the living room. Well, the doorway to the living room. My mother is on the couch. Her face has a huge smile. I look to where her eyes are focused. Bella is laying on her back. Grace's little feet are on her legs. Bella holds on to her hands and Grace is doing her usual bouncing routine. Her eyes see me and she bounces harder, making little noises.

Esme looks over. "She likes music."

I step inside and sit down next to where Bella is. Her face is watching Grace, but she glances to me. I want more than anything to lean down and kiss her, but my mother is here and we haven't gone over such topics yet, nor do I want to right now.

I settle for a smile. "What are you guys doing?"

Grace tries to reach for me. Bella puts her small hands in mine and sits up. "What your mom just said." She fixes the tag hanging out of Grace's shirt. "She likes the music."

"I don't understand."

My mother sits forward. "I think it's the vibration. There was a girl in one of Bree's dances last year, she was deaf, but she could dance just as well as the other girls, because she followed the vibration of the music."

I stare at Grace and watch her bounce as I consider this. It could be. I have heard of such things. Hmm.

"Maybe…" Bella begins. She looks shy as I look over. "Um…maybe she would like it when you played. You know. The piano?"

I look back to Grace like this is the best idea ever. She giggles at my face and I can't help but to kiss hers.

"I would have to think of a good song." She snuggles her face into my neck and I rock her a little.

"Um, are you hungry?" Bella asks.

I nod. "I could definitely eat."

She nods and gets up, walking towards the kitchen. I saw that she cooked when I entered. It's good. I'm glad she is getting comfortable here again. On more than just Sundays. I'm glad things feel somewhat familiar.

"Darling?" I turn towards my mother. Her voice is soft. "I have to apologize."

"For what?"

Quieter. "I upset Bella earlier. It wasn't intentional, but I did and I just want you to know it was an accident."

My face scrunches. "What did you do?"

"I was just trying to share photos. Things about Grace. Her birthday and whatnot. I thought she might like to see them but…"

"But you reminded her that she missed all of those things."

She nods, sadly. "Yes. I'm sorry, it wasn't intentional, just like I said."

"What happened?"

"She just got a little teary. I know she tries to hide those things, though, so that is why I am telling you. I just worry. You know."

"Yeah. Well…I'll talk to her about it."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, mom. Thanks for being here with her. I know she was nervous about watching her alone today."

"She did well. Very well. It's heart warming. Truly. I'm happy for you all."

I kiss Grace. "We aren't out of the storm yet."

"I know, but you're getting there…and…you're doing this together, yes?"

I smile at how much Esme sees. "Yeah. We are."

She touches my cheek. "Good. I always liked Bella."

"Rub some of that off on Alice, would you?"

She smiles sadly. "Bella and I had a talk about that too, but I'll allow her to discuss that matter with you. I need to get going home. Your father is being nice to me tonight and joining me for dinner."

I laugh. "About time."

She messes my hair. "I know."

After she leaves I find Bella in the kitchen, toting Grace on my hip. She is making a salad. I pause at her side and lean my face in to kiss hers. A small smile and then she lifts her face to mine, giving me a kiss on my lips, where I truly wanted it. One turning into two. Two to three. Three and then smaller hands pushing her face away.

Bella laughs. "Yeah, okay. I deserved that." She slides past me to put my food down at the place-setting. Her hands extend and take Grace. I take my seat and see that I am being treated to pasta, salad and bread. She sits down and just watches.

"Are you not eating?"

"I ate before, with Esme and Grace."

I nod and begin with the salad.

"So, did you and Emmett have fun?"

"Mmhmm." I swallow. "Well, as much fun as one could have while…let's just say he was poking fun at me."

She laughs a little. "Why?"

I stand and get a bottle of water from the fridge, then sit back down. "He's just trying to be funny, I guess."

"About?" She presses.

I stab some lettuce. I whisper to them, not looking at her. Of course. "Sex." Eat. Just eat and make your mouth busy.

"Oh." A very long pause. Nervously. "Is there a reason why?"

I glance up and she looks like how my insides feel. "He just doesn't understand….restraining one's self…I suppose."

A small smile. "Restraining one's self?"

I sigh and grab a piece of bread. "He doesn't understand why we haven't had sex since you had Grace. Better?"

She is trying to tease. "Did Emmett not notice my absence over the past year?"

I laugh a little and take a bite of bread. "He's just busting my balls. No pun intended."

She's quiet, putting her attention on Grace. I go back to eating my food. When the silence breaks, it surprises me.

"I want to have sex."

I nearly choke on my food. She doesn't laugh. She isn't being funny.

"What?"

She's nervous. "I think we should. Tonight."

And breathing must not be a involuntary function as they say it is. I clear my throat. My fingers find interest in the corner of my paper napkin. My brain is not helping me reply.

She is back-peddling. "Unless….unless you don't want to." She is hiding her embarrassment by looking down to Grace's head. "I understand."

How silly this girl is. "Bella…"

But she is already standing up. "I'm going to give Grace a bath." And gone.

I finish eating and clean up after myself. As I am making my way up the steps, I see her closing Grace's bedroom door. I pause at the top. Her hands fidget with her clothes.

"Um, she's sleeping."

I nod. "I figured."

"So…I guess I'll go. It's getting dark. I don't like driving in the dark." She looks down to her feet.

Why do I feel fifteen? "Why don't you just stay for a while? Um…we could watch a movie or something."

She looks up. "It's getting late. I have class in the morning. And uh…I'm sure you're tired, would like to go to bed."

Man. Up. "Yeah…that's kind of where I was thinking of watching the movie." My heart races. My insides are a pool of nerves and I am sweating like I have not ever had sex with this person before. I make no sense. But apparently, I do, because her eyes realize what I am saying. Trying to. Suggesting.

"Are…are you sure?"

"Only if you want to. Watch a movie. You know." I try not to smile, but fail as the corner of my mouth lifts.

Amusement and playfulness paints her face, too. "Well, I really didn't come prepared to, you know, watch a movie."

"I have everything you need to watch a movie. Don't worry."

And she laughs at our stupid, cryptic words. I pull her along by the hand, until we are in my room. I sit on the floor and try to find a movie that would be okay to put on, even though, I am a damn liar - obviously - just talking about having sex, not watching movies.

And now, I am also rambling.

I hold something up to her. She is on my bed. She reads the cover and nods. I insert the disk into the DVD player and stand. I toss the remote on the bed, next to her.

"Um…I'm going to take a quick shower. Be right back."

"Oh...okay."

"You know, just 'cause, I was sweating before with Emmett and I'm sure, you know, you'd like to watch a movie with someone who is…clean." Wow, Cullen.

"Yeah…okay."

I take a step back and she faces the screen. As I close the bathroom door. I wonder what the hell is wrong with me. Why is this so difficult. Damn Emmett. I am now scrubbing myself like I will be up for inspection and Bella is probably either in her truck driving back home, or thinking I am stalling. Yeah. I am stalling.

And now that the water is off….what do I put on? Why did I take a shower? Christ. I rummage through my piles of clothing. I choose a pair of pajama pants and tee shirt and swear I will just say that is because it is cold if she asks. I also grab some pajamas for her, just incase she would like to…I am stalling. This is not 9th grade. Get it together.

I open the door and because Bella is lovely, she doesn't look over. She is in fact curled against the pillows and has her feet and legs tucked under the covers. In the middle of the bed. Thank you.

I sit down in my place and she doesn't move. I rest the pajamas on the bedspread. "Um, I thought maybe you'd like to be more comfortable."

She glances away from the movie. To the clothes. Then me. "Oh." She sits up. "Sure."

Why did I bring her clothes? She was resting. I should have just tossed them to the floor. Now she is up and crawling away and Jesus Christ she had her pants off already. Under the covers. My covers. To my bed. Idiot. I am an idiot. The door clicks and I fall back against the pillows, cursing silently to myself…except Bella has removed most of the pillows and I hit my head. Hard.

"Fucking shit…"

The bathroom door opens and she stares at me and my hand - that is rubbing where I banged my head - and my loud mouth.

"Are…you okay?"

I nod and just play it off, but there will be a bump, I know it. She crawls her way back into the bed and now she is on her side. There is a wide space in between us, my head is thumping and not the one that should be. And we are fully clothed. Watching…a documentary on Lyme Disease.

I look over to her. "Why didn't you tell me I picked this?"

She shrugs. "I figured it was what you wanted to watch."

Why would I…I groan and rest my head down.

It is quiet. It is boring. It not the way this should be going. I am so frustrated and not sure what to do. Why was it so easy before?

"Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"What's wrong?"

I shake my head, but it's not good enough. I feel the bed move as she does. She sits at my side. Back facing the screen. Palms down. Face facing mine.

She wants to talk. "Edward."

You have to do it. I glance up. "I don't know. It's…harder than I thought it would be."

And her lips smile. I feel a foot run up my leg pausing when she…

"Couldn't agree less," she teases.

I laugh a little and dig to find her foot, holding it in my hand.

"Sorry. I don't know why this is so weird."

"Maybe you only dig pregnant chicks."

I make a face. She laughs. But there is something about that statement.

"Maybe…I'm just scared of the fact that you aren't."

Her brows scrunch. "Wouldn't it be, or shouldn't it be, the opposite?"

I rub her foot. "Emmett was saying…he was saying something along the lines of having more…freedoms…today. Maybe it just…maybe it just makes me think, even subconsciously, that you'll expect…more? Does that makes sense?"

She thinks and then nods. "I guess…but that would mean I wasn't satisfied before…and…I was, Cullen. You know that right?"

"But that was just…that was like, normal stuff. Or, less than normal stuff, because we had to be…gentle."

She laughs a little. "And you think…now I want, like, what? Whips and chains and paddles and shit?"

I play a little. "I don't know. Do you?"

She smiles and leans forward, crawling so she is laying on my chest, looking at me. "Do you remember when we came up here for Thanksgiving?" I nod. "Do you remember what you asked me? About why sex is so easy for me to talk about?"

"Yes. You said it was just sex."

She nods. Her finger runs down my nose. She watches it. She talks to it. "It's not like that anymore."

My heart picks up pace. "Why not?"

Her finger continues to make an invisible design over my face.

"Because sex is just a three letter word." Her eyes catch mine. "You're more than three letter word, Edward."

And this is what I wanted to feel. But still, it would be…off. Something.

I pull her hand from my face and kiss those fingers. "Do you remember the night you came in my room? The first night you stayed, Bella?"

She nods as my mouth kisses to her palm. She watches.

"That. I want that." One last kiss. A slight touch of my tongue. "Tonight."

And I don't need to say anything else before her legs straddle me and she leans her mouth down to mine, just like that night we stayed up, kissing and nothing more.

As the morning sun tries to wake me, I am also being woken by something else. Something wonderful. Something…

I blink my eyes and try to find this wonderful. It's mouth is tucked into my shoulder and neck, giving the most amazing wake-up kisses. Wonderful's hand is tucked beneath the bed-sheets and inside of my pajama bottoms. Sliding up and down and wonderful. Perfect. Wonderful.

Soft and sweet whispers in my ear. "You smell good in the morning." And then goes back to her kissing.

I rest my head against hers and use the same tone. "You feel good in the morning."

She moves her hand faster, holding firmer. Her thumb sweeps over the head of cock with every pass she makes. My legs tense. My stomach tightens. I want her. Goddamn.

I roll until she is on her back and I am on my side. I return all of her wonderful. On her cheek. On her chin. On her neck. My fingers slide under her and curl into the waistband of her pajama pants, then pull them down.

My palm rests in between her legs. Warm and wonderful. Mouth back on her neck as she makes noises. Middle finger slipping into wetness. Up and down slowly. Making circles and it goes right in between my own legs. I remember how sweet she is here and how wonderful she tastes. There's only one other place I want that pussy and isn't on my fingers.

I grab her hips and take her back with me to our previous position. Our mouths find one another. I kiss her slow and deeply. I let her pull off my pants when she tries. I feel her legs settle at my sides. Her weight on me. I scrunch down lower and push her up higher. Closer. My hands cup her ass and she rest back on her palms as I bring my mouth to her bareness.

She lets out a small whimper and I glance up. She is so sexy. Beautiful. Leaning with her breasts jutting out. Her head tipped back. I lick slowly, with long sweeps of my tongue until she is swollen. Until she is moving her hips and sliding herself over my mouth. I spread her lips and let my fingers play with her clit. Tongue dancing where my cock wants to be.

She rocks and looks at me. Her voice in soft, sweet, wonderful agony. "I love that."

I know.

My reply is with my mouth, but not in words. She leans forward, fully over my face and I have never experienced anything so sexy. So erotic. And I want her to come. I want to be able to do that. I want her to always love this. With me. I work my tongue like it's my life's mission. Its only goal; slipping between her lips and into her entrance and listening as she begs for more and more until there is nothing. I give her wonderfulness kisses and caress her sides with my fingertips.

She moves herself down my body is going to return the favor, but that's not what I want. I capture her hands before she moves down too far and I pull her back to me. Her face to mine. I move my hips to say what my mouth isn't asking. She moves hers, to answer. My hand fumbles as I kiss her and try to find something in the drawer beside the bed. When all is safe, I move my hips, dipping only the head of my cock inside of her then retracting.

And again. And again. And again.

Until she is begging me and try to steal what I won't give her. I wrap my arms around her waist and press her firmly to me as I give in - giving her everything - filling her completely.

Bella rewards me with her sounds and hips and rhythm as she keeps up with mine. She moves her breasts into my face and lets me taste her nipples. She lets me squeeze her ass and pound into her when I want to. She squeezes me tighter.

"You fuck that pussy so good, Edward."

She says shit that kills me.

"Goddamn you fuck that pussy so good. More. More."

Kills me.

"More. More."

I pause, holding my breath. Holding her hips. Holding everything that is about to end everything. She tries to move and I hold firmer. Not yet. Her hand smooths over my face, calming me. A small kiss.

Breathless. "Do you wanna be on top?"

Great idea. We move and as she is about to settle herself down, I don't want boring and predictable. I pull her back up and she looks at my face, a little confused. I show her with my hands, turning her so she is facing away. I kiss her neck and her shoulder.

I'm about to…but her legs curl underneath her. Not letting me.

Softly. "Bella?"

She's quiet for a moment. I hear the scared in her voice. "I don't like it this way…it um…it scares me."

And I would have never expected those words. Not from her. When she elaborates, I am even fuller when it comes to not believing. Not her words. Just that she would say them.

She keeps her back to me. "Do you remember when Emmett's hands were messed up? The day I came to your office. The first day?"

How could I forget. "Yeah."

A moment. "It was because he beat up this guy. I mean it was my fault…I was being stupid and I knew better than to be all alone with…I knew better. And you know just because you're a…just because you sell some stuff, doesn't mean you sell everything and it doesn't mean that they can just, like, take whatever the fuck they want…" she stops when her voice gets angry.

I know she is probably crying, but I just let her get it out. It would be more useful than my words. Than my voice. Bella needs a voice. She's finding it.

"Emmett pulled him away before he did anything…he didn't do anything. It just feels…I just feel like I don't have control this way."

The logical part of me wants to sit down on the bed and pull her so she's on top, again. The part of me that loves her wants to do that. My mouth wants to reassure her that I wouldn't ever harm her like those other men have, that she is in control…over everything. But those are just words. That is just a reassurance that can be ripped to shreds and returned as fast as it is given- in her eyes.

I move so I am mimicking her position, resting on my heels behind her. My index fingers hook her hair, and pull it back over her bare shoulders. I lean my lips to her warm skin and kiss a soft trail until I reach her neck. I wrap my arms loosely around her shoulders and place my palm to her cheek, making her head turn my way some.

And I remember the mark on her face. I remember how it looked. I remember the black and the blue and the swollen. I remember how afraid she was when I tried to touch her, tried to apply something to heal her. To take care of her. And I have no medicine, but I have my lips. I have my heart. She is my heart.

"It was here, right?" I'm not really asking. I know it was here. I just want her to know. She nods a little and kiss an invisible trail over her face, where I remember it all, as though it were painted freshly on her skin, as brightly today as it was then.

I rest fully on my heels and tip Bella so she is relaxing against me. I'm not over her, or dominating in any type of way. My palms rest against the mattress and I only use my mouth on hers. Her hands rest on the tops of my thighs. Her back to my chest. My hardness pressing into her, but ignore it, for now.

And something changes.

Her hand reaches back and grabs my hair. She leans forward, pulling me with her, until I am covering her. She juts her ass up. I press my mouth to her shoulder and slide myself slowly inside of her. And she only sighs. She doesn't freak out. She isn't scared. She trusts me. Hips roll with mine. Tell me to give more. Back into me when it isn't enough. We move in sync; back and forth.

Her cheek rests to the mattress. Soft sighs of pleasure escaping. Eyes closed and I want to give her everything I have. I want to tie Bella to me and never let her go. I want to keep her here, tucked under me, where she is safe and she is mine.

My face leans closer to hers as my hips move according to her plea for harder and faster and more.

"I love you, Bella."

"More. I love you. More."

And it probably wasn't meant to sound that way…but it sounds too good and I believe it was.

I take her four letter word and I believe.

In that.

REVIEW THIS CHAPTER

Chapter 60: Communication

Bella

Sunday

"What did you get?"

I hold up my paper. I try not to smile, but fail. He smiles too when he reads.

"A. That's great, Bella. You should be proud."

I look at the food he's cooking. "It's because of you, really. They loved the part where all the doctors used your word."

He licks the spoon and shakes his head. "It was your word." Grace tosses a toy from her highchair. He laughs. "She concurs."

I smile and pick it up. My hands play with it and watch her. Edward puts out his hand, but I shake my head. "I'll wash it."

I walk to the sink and rinse it clean, then dry it. He dumps the pasta next to me, draining off the water. I can't help but to watch him. The way his face cringes a little at the steam hitting it. He is still so ridiculously handsome.

"She was always a fan you doing well in school."

"What?"

He shakes the colander. "Grace. I still remember the day you passed your GED. She kicked you." He looks over and smiles at me.

And I want to smile, but those memories aren't the same for me. They aren't memories linking to things I am proud of. He sees this. He puts the colander in the sink and wipes his hands on the dishrag. He pauses and then he speaks.

"May I ask something, Bella?"

And I know it's not going to something easy from his tone, but my shrink makes me face this kind of shit, so, I nod.

"Why didn't you call me."

And the way he asks makes my insides burn. "I was scared."

"Of?"

I look at the sauce stain on his shirt. "Of everything. I wasn't sure if you even wanted to talk to me. And I guess….I guess just didn't want the answer to that question."

He's silent and I don't know what that means. When I chance a look at his face to find out, I know that look and I'm not worthy of it yet. I haven't done enough to be deserving of it. I have a lot further to go.

He needs to know that. "I'm never going to be normal, Edward. I'm never going to be…fixed. I could have all the shrinks in the world and that would never happen. I can be…better…but I'll never be perfect."

He shakes his head. "I'm not asking you to be."

At the door

"It's raining pretty bad. Maybe you just should stay." And there is a hopefulness I don't want to deny.

"I have school in the morning." And truth. That is the truth.

He nods. "Just be careful driving, Bella."

"Night." I take a step back and face the rain coming down. I take two more steps.

"Bella?" I turn around. He steps forward. "It wasn't all your fault. What happened. It wasn't all your fault."

"Please do not try and apologize, Edward. You didn't do anything wrong."

He shakes his head and steps out further. "I'm saying it wasn't fair. My perception and my own desire for you to be something, it wasn't fair. I painted you in my mind as a picture that you weren't ready to be in, for my own selfishness. My own need for that. For someone. I expected you to be…perfect…like you said….when I wasn't perfect, or complete myself. All of the things I buried, that I never dealt with in my marriage. With my own biological mother and family…I expected you to do so much, when I had done nothing myself.

"That's not fair. And to ask you to be a part of my world, that wasn't complete, that was anything but perfect, that wasn't fair."

"Edward, regardless…you did what was right, so…it doesn't matter."

"It does," he argues. "It does matter. And those things are easy for me because that is the part of my life that wasn't messed up. What I am good at. Being a doctor. Putting on a face. Doing things for others, when I neglect myself. That is easy for me. We both have masks Bella, but just because mine leans towards trying to prove that I am worth something, and yours, the latter, it still doesn't make it fair. It doesn't make me better. It's the same difference, just with different results and yet the same destructiveness. So who am I to judge."

And my mouth is at a loss. My brain can't comprehend his thoughts. Thank God for his face. Those eyes. His hands hold tightly to the dishrag. The rain falls hard on the ground. The sky protests against something. I step forward and I say what my voice can't seem to. I haven't earned his mouth yet. I settle for the place beside it, somewhere not quite his cheek, but close. And I hold my face to his and just want to die. I want to stay and I want to put my arms around him. I want to never move my face away. I let my nose rub slightly over his skin, then kiss lightly again.

I don't open my eyes until I face the truck. And I don't dare to look at him.

I want the burn on my lips.

I want that.

And only.

Sunday

I am lost inside of my own reflection, until I hear voices that are too familiar. For too many reasons. Wrong and right. Wanted and feared. I pick up Grace and hold on to her like she can keep the hole in my chest from opening. Like the scent of baby powder and slobber could somehow make that voice, those footsteps coming our way, not scary.

And he is oblivious. Edward walks to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water and offers it to him. They are talking and tossing jokes and ideas back and forth while my face is hidden into my daughter's shoulder/neck. She loves my hair and thank God because it helps to conceal my identity.

"I appreciate you stopping by on a Sunday, Mr. Newton. I know it's not the most convenient day for an appointment."

Hand shaking and yeah hands shaking.

"No problem, Dr. Cullen. I'll get those blue prints ready and sent over to you as soon as I can. I look forward to working on the project."

Feet move away and then the door closes. Feet come back. I have to put down Grace before I drop her. I am shaking too much. I sit her in the highchair and walk to the next room. Feet follow me.

He pauses in the doorway. "Something wrong?"

I shake my head and don't look at him.

"Okay, well, is there a reason why is Grace is in the kitchen unattended?"

And any other time I would just take his shit, because that is what I am supposed to do. That is the hole I placed myself in, but I'm sick of him not getting it. I'm tired of clawing my way towards the light and him putting his shoe in my face. His stupid goddamn shiny shoes.

My fists ball. "She wouldn't be unattended if you stayed in the kitchen, Edward."

"Perhaps if you asked me to do that, I would have. Perhaps if you learn to just talk to me and not run away when something is wrong, I would know not to leave the kitchen, Bella. I would know what the fuck is going on."

And we are both so screwed. We are talking about nothing and everything at once.

I spin around and he could be Newton. I don't see a face, I only feel anger. Warranted or not. Right or not. Wrong or not. Whatever. I am gunning for someone's head. I don't care who it belongs to.

"You're a big boy, Edward. You know what to do. You and all your perfect ness. You know everything. You don't need me. You don't need anyone. I'm so sorry I'm not perfect like you. I am so goddamn sorry." And my voice reflects no sorry. No apologies that are real and I grab my shit. I storm for the door, But I am tugged and turned to face him.

"You walk out this time, you just keep going. I'm not doing this shit with you, Tanya." And his eyes close. "Bella."

I tug my arm away. "And maybe he isn't so perfect." I shove him and think I have won, but he grabs me again and I am now tossed on the couch. And he is pissed. He is beyond pissed. He is over me and my wrists are in his hands. His face near mine and if I weren't ready to tell him to get the fuck off me I would tell him to just fuck me. It would hurt and feel just as good.

"You can't even give a full day a week. You can't even do that. Don't you dare fucking judge me, Bella." He shoves me further into the couch, pressing his weight to me and it hurts but I want it. I fucking want it.

"Get off me." Stay. Stay.

He holds tighter to my wrists and I get pissed. I know he likes it. I know he likes me pissed off. I like him pissed off too. Give it to me. Unleash it. I want it.

"You are such a goddamn child, Bella." And the fire in his eyes is in between my legs and my chest heaves. I want to smack him and fuck him and bite him and push him away and grab his damn shirt and rip it off his body and cry and scream and nothing.

"That was Newton."

His irritation grows. "No shit."

And now I cry. "He fucked me."

His hands don't loosen yet. Not yet. It hasn't clicked yet.

"He gave me the boots. He's married. His wife found out. He's the reason why I don't know how RENT ends."

I'm telling the truth and nothing but. His eyes know it. They are watching mine. My wrists don't hurt any longer. He is still over me, but his weight is on his heels. My wrists don't hurt because his hands are now rubbing over his face. I pull my legs from under his body and scoot back until I am sitting up. He says nothing and he won't look at me.

My feet touch the floor. I walk back to the kitchen and my reflection is the only thing that makes me feel like I'm worth something in this moment. I pick her up and try to find more of that safety, where there is none.

Tuesday

"How have you been?"

I'm the one scribbling this time. I still hate looking at his face. "Just peachy."

"Doesn't sound like it."

I huff and place my pen down, but don't lift my eyes. "Well I had a shitty weekend, Doc. What can I say."

Now he's scribbling. "Let's expand on that."

Yes, lets. I am paying you. Might as well. "Edward and I got into a fight."

"About?"

"About my shitty mothering skills and the fact that he is a prick."

"You feel he's doubting you?"

"He does."

"Is that was he said?"

I toss my notebook aside and look at his ugly face. "He doesn't have to. He makes his little jabs and it's that look in his face that is just waiting for me to fuck up."

"Jabs? Let's expand on that."

"You say expand, one more goddamn time, I swear."

"Let's go further into that. Better?"

Little Doctor I am also a Clown. "He makes comments. Little pokes. Faces."

"So, he is passive-aggressive. Is that fair to say?"

"I would have to know what that means. But I guess. You're the professional. You tell me."

"I don't know him other than what you describe, so I'm afraid that won't be possible. However, passive-aggressive behavior is like, someone maintaining a calm demeanor, even a pleasant one, while they say what they really mean, a hidden anger of sorts, but without lashing out. Does that make sense?"

"So, it's like smiling at someone while telling them to go fuck themselves?"

"That would be accurate."

"Then yeah, he's passive-aggressive like a motherfucker."

"Do you let him know? Do you tell him this behavior bothers you?"

"I don't have a right to be 'bothered' by anything Edward does. He is a fucking saint. He needs me on my knees worshipping him. Not telling him how to act."

More scribbles. "Bella, everyone deserves to have their feelings considered. If you and he are to ever have a good, solid working relationship, even if it is just in order to parent Grace, you need to establish good communication."

My head hurts.

Sunday

"What are you doing?"

I toss my pants aside and look at him, leaning in the doorway.

"Giving my child a bath. What else?" I pick her up and start taking off her clothes.

"Yes, I see that, as the tub is full. But, why are you half-naked?"

I pick her up into my arms and step inside of the water. "Because sitting on the tile floor kills my legs and I had to lift a garbage bag filled with beer bottles yesterday and now my back hurts like a….it hurts. So I am sitting in the tub. Okay?" I don't wait for his reply and I sit down with Grace in my lap.

I hand her over some toys and make faces at her faces. He is still standing there. I look over.

"I'm not gonna let her drown, Cullen."

He says nothing and disappears. After Grace is clean and dry and changed for bed, I lay her down and watch as she begins to drift into her sleep. It only takes a few minutes, but I stay here for an hour. When it's time for me to turn back into a pumpkin, I close her door, quietly. Edward is sitting on the top of the stairs. He doesn't look at me, but I know it's me he's waiting for. I take a seat next to him. His arms hold to his legs/knees. I mimic his position.

"She's a asleep."

He nods. "She's a good sleeper."

I sigh. "Are we really doing this?"

His voice is far away. "Doing what?"

"Talking about Grace's sleeping patterns when obviously there are hundreds of other things we need to talk about."

His hands rub together. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

He looks over to me. "When I'm wrong I am going to say I am wrong. Stop trying to take that away from me, Bella."

I hold in my irritation. Sort of. "What are you sorry for this time?"

"Pushing you. Losing my temper. Putting my hands on you. The things I said."

I go to speak, but he isn't done.

"Not telling you that you're doing a good job. Not admitting that you are being a good mother. Expecting too much too fast…" And his hands are holding his head.

I scoot over until my side is against his side. "I'm sorry, too."

Wednesday

"Bella!" And this is the first person who has been happy to see me other than my kid. His arms, wrapping around my waist are way too strong for being all of eleven? Twelve?

"Jacob, how old are you?"

He doesn't let go. "Eleven. I turned eleven and you missed it, Jerk."

I laugh at his name calling. Yeah, I don't correct him. How could I?

I mess his hair. "Grab the paint and shut it, Jacob. Make yourself useful." I push him and he laughs and it is good.

"Yo, Bella. Where do want this thing?" Emmett waits by the door with a couch we found at the thrift store. "You know, besides the dumpster."

I put my hand on my hip. "Is everyone going to pick on me, today?"

He smiles. I point to the corner. "Just put it over there and then we'll adjust."

"Yes ma'am." He does what I asked and Jacob sets down the paint. Emmett stops him. He looks at me. "Shouldn't we have painted first?"

"I have plastic. We'll just cover the stuff. It's not like I have all the time in the world. Plus, I can't be lugging this crap up the stairs while the restaurant is open."

Emmett nods. "This place could be pretty cool. Once we get rid of the crack-den features."

"Stop making fun of my house Emmett."

He laughs. "Seriously, Bella…this place is pretty cool." His voice becomes more serious. "I'm glad for you."

Thank God for Jacob. "I think we should paint it red."

Or not.

"No red. I hate red."

We get to work on my apartment. Emmett helps me trim the walls up high and Jacob uses his shortness as his strength, edging the baseboards. I love watching their interaction. I love knowing that Jacob was able to find strength in Emmett and vice versa. I love that Jacob looks happy. I love that Emmett is able to be my friend and it is okay with Rosalie. I'm glad that I didn't fuck up this part. That this part is good.

"So, did Edward tell you?"

I look up to him as I roll the paint along the wall. He is on the ladder.

"Tell me what?"

"I'm gonna do the install on his addition."

"What addition?"

"Can I have more paint?" He wiggles his brush and I refill the tray on his ladder. He dips the brush and continues. "He's adding an addition onto his house. A place for a gym and a pool."

And my brain is confused. "I thought…I thought he hired someone else to do that."

Emmett gives me a knowing eye. "Yeah. I believe that's why he changed his mind and asked me, Bella."

And my heart feels stupid. So, so stupid. Warm, but stupid. Emmett dips the paintbrush again.

"If you can find some free time, maybe you should put helping me out into your schedule. You know, like returning the favor I'm giving you today," he smiles. His voice drops. "Plus, I'm sure Edward would like to see more of you."

"I'm trying to see Grace more. I talked to my boss and I'm moving some of my classes to be online. I'm trying, Emmett."

He shakes his head. "I'm not talking about your kid. I'm talking about Edward and his perpetual lost puppy look when your not around. It makes me uncomfortable. Fix that shit, please."

"Yeah, fix that shit, Bella."

Emmett looks down to Jacob. "What did we discuss about not repeating things I say? You owe me fifty push-ups next time we have class."

And I smile as Jacob rolls his eyes and mumbles under his breath.

Sunday

I poke at his arm as he cleans Grace's face. "I know something you don't know."

He smiles. He glances at me. "And what is that, Bella?"

"Jacob is madly in love with Bree."

His face is not happy, just as I knew it would not be. I smile wider. "She's too young to hang out with Jacob."

I shake my head. "Actually, I think she's older than him. Plus, we just had this whole section in class about how the male mind and maturity level develops much slower than the females, so, technically, she is much older than Jacob, even if she is younger in years of age."

He wants to smile. I can see it. He hands Grace over. "I think it's bath time."

I take her. "Don't change the topic just because you can't argue with that, Edward."

"Oh, can't I?"

My eyes challenge him.

"She's my niece and I will kill any male figure who comes near her."

I laugh. He bounces his brows like he won. I shake my head. "She's going to date someday and really…Jacob is turning out to be a good kid."

I start off towards the steps. Edward follows me. "How do you know he likes her anyhow?"

We climb. "He told me when he was at my place. He even has a present for her, waiting patiently until he sees her next…which he prays is soon."

I open the bathroom door. Edward leans against it. "Note to self, Bree is never visiting me again."

I laugh and sit on the edge of the tub. "Are you gonna be like this when Grace is Bree's age too?"

He shakes his head. "Nope. No need to be. As she is never going out into public once she hits puberty. Problem solved."

I roll my eyes and find his smile adorable. I start to strip off her clothes and then sit her on the bathmat while I unbutton my pants. He is still standing there.

"I'm beginning to think you come here just you can use my tub, Bella."

I shimmy my pants down my legs. "I'm beginning to think you get a sick, perverted joy out of watching me take off my pants, Edward." I toss them at him and he catches them.

He shrugs. "Maybe…I do."

And my eyes lock with his. He is shitty at hiding the truth. He knows it and he looks down to his hands, playing with my jeans. "Take your time." He backs out of the doorway and leaves us to our bath time.

When all is soft and warm and contently sleeping with a kiss on her cheek, I make my way downstairs. The sound of water tells me where he is. I walk into the kitchen and he is rinsing out her sippy-cups.

"I can help." I put out my hands.

"I'm about done. They can just dry in the rack. Besides, Esme will just rewash them again tomorrow anyhow," he smiles.

"Does she like being here full time, now?"

"I think she loves it. Too much." He makes a face.

I smile. "Getting on your nerves?"

He smiles and because Edward is Edward, "Beggars can't be choosers and I suppose it's better than leaving with her with a stranger, no matter what their background checks might say."

"Sorry about Angela." Sort of.

He shrugs. "It's just stuff. I don't care about that part." He shakes his head. "You know, I think she actually stole one of Grace's baby blankets. Talk about being low."

And my face feels hot. "Uhh…that wasn't her."

He turns off the water and grabs a towel for his hands. "What do you mean?"

I swallow and breathe. "I um…I took one with me. Before I left for school."

His face scrunches. "Why?"

I shrug. I look at my fingers. "I just wanted to." That's not good enough. "I was scared that I would miss her." Try a little harder, Bella. "I did. I did miss her."

When my heart slows a little, I look up. His eyes are full of questions, but he only asks one as he leans in a little, trying to find something in mine.

"Who are you Bella Swan?"

Breathe. Breathe. "I often ask myself that question, Edward."

My legs will wobble and give out if he doesn't move away. His eyes trail down my face, to my lips and then back up to my eyes.

"Will you have dinner with me on Sunday?"

Breathe. "We always have dinner on Sundays."

He shakes his head. He licks his lower lip. Jesus, where are you to save me?

"Friday. Will you have dinner with me on Friday," he amends.

I breathe and I chance looking at his eyes. There is so much scared there and I want to slap him for being so ridiculous. My lips twitch in amusement.

"Are you asking me out….like on a date?"

"I could meet you after school or something. We could do something by where you live."

Now I am in full-on smile, having figured it out. "You want to spy on where I live, don't you?"

And finally, he smiles too and Jesus. Wobbly knees. "Maybe."

I lean my face closer. "And if I so no?"

He leans closer. "Then I guess I'm having dinner with a much smaller version of you."

And teasing Edward is the best game ever.

"You mean you won't cry?"

"Nope."

"Won't be sad?"

"Nope."

"Not even a little bit?"

"Nope."

I smile. "Meet me at six."

"Five fifty-nine," he counters.

I push my forehead to his. "I'll be sure to wear a watch on Friday."

Tuesday

"How are we today, Miss Swan?"

"Peachy."

"You look like you mean that today."

I lay back against the pillows. "Maybe I do." And just those words alone make my insides stupidly happy.

"Care to…elaborate?"

Wise Doc. I look at the ceiling. "Edward asked me out on a date."

"Did he?"

"Yeah. This Friday."

"What brought this on?"

I shrug. "I don't know…but he did…so…it's a good thing, right?"

"You tell me, Bella."

"It…feels good."

"But?" Too wise.

"But…we still aren't like we were. And…I don't know…I'm scared I guess."

"Of?" What's with the one word questions?

"Of…messing up. I don't know. Everything. Hurting him. Not being good enough. Not being able to be a good…girlfriend. His stupid eyes. The way he looks at me."

"So, he's still making you feel inadequate as a parent?"

I sit up. "No…he actually apologized for that shit. I'm talking about…he makes me nervous."

"How?"

"How he looks at me. Like my insides are going to melt or burst and like I could just throw his ass down and…" I stop myself. "I think you get the picture."

"You're attracted to him physically."

"That would be understatement of the goddamn year, Doc."

"And you think this Friday, perhaps something might happen along those lines? Between you and Edward?"

"Maybe. I don't know. But…but what if it did? Would that be wrong?"

He adjusts his glasses. "No, not wrong."

My turn for one word questions. "But?"

"But perhaps you should focus on rebuilding your relationship and the communication issues before you go and add another layer on top of an already wobbly situation. Yes?"

Damn it.

I nod. I huff. "I can't believe I pay for this shit."

Friday

"You look very nice." He offers his hand and I take it as I stand up from the bench.

"Thanks. You too." Goddamn walking sex god on two legs Jesus mother fucking Christ the things I would do to this man.

"Ready to eat?"

I nod and he escorts me to his car. We pick a place not too far from campus. I know some of the people here, but just in passing. I don't know their names. Just their faces. I stare at his tie while he looks over the menu. It is not perfect. Not by far. I want to reach over and fix it. I want to tug on it. I want to fucking…

"Esme said she got Grace to eat pureed carrots today without spitting them out," he smiles.

"Oh…really?"

He nods. "Yup."

"That's…that's great."

He keeps the smile on his face while he continues to look at the menu.

I ignore mine. "So…um, how was your day?"

He looks over. "It was good. That little girl Emily, she finally stopped calling me Voctor Shullen."

I laugh a little. "I kind of liked her calling you Voctor Shullen."

He smiles back. "Yeah, I guess it was kind of cute."

I try to keep it going. "So, what else happened today?"

He shrugs. "Not too much. Same old - same old. How was your day?"

I sweep my hair away from my face. "It was alright. But this kid kept kicking my chair in class, which sort of sucked. I had to move to another spot and I couldn't see the overhead as good."

And I must be the most boring date ever. I look at my menu. I can still feel his eyes on me. Thankfully, the waitress stops by and breaks up the weirdness. Most of dinner after that is about Grace. It seems to be the only thing we have to talk about and as much as the topic of her makes me happy, it also depresses me that we are pretty much wasting tonight.

"Do you want dessert?" He asks.

I shake my head. "I'm full."

He looks a little disappointed, but nods. "Me too."

I let him pay the bill, because I am supposed to be on a date. He helps me put on my coat and we are out the door, standing on the sidewalk. It's awkward, to say the least.

"So, I guess this is the part you are looking forward to, tonight?" I try to tease.

He finds his keys and we head towards the car. He doesn't say anything, but gives a smile as he opens my door. I show him where to drive. I feel like my insides are experiencing a tornado as we pull up to where I live. It's Family Night and it's loud.

"Um, we can go up the back steps." I get out and he follows. I look in my purse for my keys. As I turn the lock, I pray that I will keep my dinner down. I push the door open and put my back to it as I let him by. He steps in and I find the light. Close the door. I watch him from behind as he looks around.

"I told you it was small."

He looks back to me, but I am looking at my hands. I am trying not to cry and I don't even understand why I would.

"It's actually…a lot bigger than I thought it would be. It's different." He turns around again. I lift my head and watch.

"What did you think it would look like?" Stupid question. We know what he thought. Same as Emmett. Crack-den.

He shrugs. "I'm not sure. I guess I just didn't think it would be…you?"

He glances over his shoulder. My face crinkles. "Me?"

"Like…this is you. The other place…it was just…generic. But this is you."

I have to laugh a little. "Second-hand and used?"

He smiles. "Warm. Inviting. Comfortable."

And there are those feeling I feared. "Tonight hasn't been very comfortable." And why did I say that?

"No, it hasn't."

My shoulders feel lighter. "I don't know how to be like this, Edward."

He takes a step forward. "Be like what?"

"Like this. Like normal people who just go out and date and talk about their day and plans and…I don't know how to be one of those people."

Another step. "Then we'd be even."

I shake my head. "We're far from even."

"What does that mean?"

"It means…" Do not cry. "It means I owe you a lot. It means I owe you everything. My gratitude. My apologies. My…" and he is too close. "My um…"

And he's touching me. He's touching my face. His thumb. My cheeks. "You're what?"

Breathe. Breathe. Sounds like I didn't. "My heart….if you still want it."

My mouth get crushed to his without warning. And tears and need and sex and hurt and happiness and pain and anger and longing and everything, just fucking everything is crumpled into this nice little ball, in the pit of my stomach.

There is no carefulness. There is no easy. There is no gentle. There is just hands and fingers and tugging and tongues that licks and tease and beg and my lips between his teeth and feet moving towards the closest place closed eyes can find.

Lips on my lips and lips on my face and lips under my chin and lips on my neck and lips on my ear and lips back on my lips.

I twist and tug and grab his hair and wrap my legs around his waist as his weight comes down on me, on the couch. I pant and suffocate and pull his hair to move his mouth when I need more air and then pull his hair and bring him back to my mouth when I need more of that mouth.

His hands are more disciplined and stay where they started. I feel him where I want him and fuck it feels so good and it would be just so easy to slide my hands down and undo his pants and if I asked him to fuck me he probably would. I feel his hardness and I feel his need and I feel the man under the calm and restrained doctor and calm restrained doctor always comes out to play when I call him.

And while his mouth does this amazing shit to my neck, my mouth rambles without taking my desire with it. "My shrinks says we shouldn't have sex."

He drags his lips back to mine. His breath hot. His voice so goddamn sex. Not sexy. Sex. "We're not having sex. I just want to kiss the shit out of you."

And Edward is fucking brilliant. His tongue is hot and wet and delicious and I have to block out how it used to feel between my legs. He thrusts his hips and I hold him with my legs. I move against him and push until he is on his back and my hair is covering his face. I am on top and I move my hips like my life depends on it. I grind against him and I kiss him and I keep my hands in that wonderful fucking hair that smells and feels like Heaven.

I move faster when he palms my ass and keeps my rhythm. When he whispers sexy shit against my face and tells me how good I feel. When my clit thanks every inch of how hard and long and swollen with lust he is with every slide we make over it. When his hands hold me firm to him and I feel my insides tighten and both of our breaths stop at the same time. When he groans and curls his fingers into my hair.

The air goes still. Loud noises from below and our panting. That is all. I fall to the side, against the back of the couch and relish the throbbing between my legs that is more than satisfied.

"Bella."

I open my eyes. I see his fingers tap to his chest, calling me back. I rest my head there. It's still quiet. I listen to his heart beat rapidly and slowly slow. He lazily strums his fingers through my hair.

A sigh. His. "Goddamn that was good."

I smile against his shirt. It's quiet again, until he breaks it.

"So, you talk to your therapist about having sex with me, do you?"

I roll my eyes, but he can't see it. "I talk to him about a lot of things."

"Like, having sex with me," he teases.

I look at him, resting my chin on his chest. "He thinks we need to talk more."

"And what do you think?"

"I think that question sounds just like him. Must be a doctor thing."

He smiles, but his tone is serious. "Bella."

"I think we use Grace as a distraction."

He nods. "Probably."

"If she wasn't here…would you still…after what happened….would you still…" but that's not the right question, because I don't know that he does. "Do you still love me?"

He is quiet and I feel my chest connect with my eyes. And it's not that I didn't think it was possible, but when something stares you in the face, it's like a rusty knife to your soul. And maybe I am just desperate. Maybe I am just pathetic, but regardless, he deserves to know.

"I still love you, Edward. I always have. I lied you know. I was never with anyone…not that night I said it…and not when we were apart. I'm sorry I hurt you." I place my lips over the fabric of his clothes. Where his heart is still beating quickly. I rest my cheek there and close my eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Bella."

No, just let me have this. Just for a moment more. Please.

"Bella."

Please.

"Baby, look at me." His fingers make me. "You really think I don't love you?"

Stupid fucking eyes. "Do you?"

His face can't believe my words. "Don't I?" He sighs. "Why else would I put up with your shit? Love you? I think I passed that level of how I feel for you a long time ago. It's somewhere in between being insane and…I don't know, whatever the hell would be worse than insane."

I sniffle. "That doesn't sound very healthy."

His fingers wipe down my cheek. "It feels healthy. It feels right. I can't even explain it to myself half the time…but there's not a single part of me that doesn't want you. That doesn't love you completely and insanely."

"We should have just come here and told dinner to screw off." I'm trying to be funny, but my eyes are still stupid. "I really do love you. But it hurts."

Soft and green. "What hurts?"

"Loving you. It hurts. You make me feel shit I don't want to feel and then you add Grace to it and…I don't want to be a bad person. It just hurts." I close my eyes and feel his fingers wipe away what they produce.

"You want to know something. Bella?" I nod. "I think this is the most significant, serious conversation I have ever had…while having cum in my pants."

My eyes open and I can't help the laughter that burst from my lips. I roll my face into his chest. "Edward." I shake my head.

His hands pull me up, higher on his chest, until my face is under his chin.

"Sorry, but I just really hate seeing you cry."

I allow myself to enjoy how he feels. I allow my eyes to close. I allow his hands to rub over my back and to hold me close to him.

It's soft. "Bella?"

"Mmm?"

His arms squeeze a little tighter.

"This is the part I was looking forward to, tonight."

REVIEW THIS CHAPTER

Under the Apple Tree

Chapter 59: I Concur

Edward.

Sunday

My hearts stops. My ability to breathe. My sanity must have slipped. She sits down and the hairs rising on my arms tell me she is real. The heat flushed in my cheeks. Her makeup is smudged. Her attire tells me why. The lack of oxygen must be making my mouth not function. It can't move. It can't utter a word, though I have thought of so many things to say over this time. I have an entire list. Jasper has a journal filled with my rambles and complaints and weak moments.

And yet, nothing comes to mind.

"I went to see my Dad," She says to her hands. She pauses and then looks up to me. "Thank you."

And through the clear, there is a girl I don't know, yet know. I have searched desperately for her. I have spent my Sundays in church asking for her. I have spent my evenings trying to convince a child that she exists. I have spent month after month trying to convince myself she exists.

I swallow and pray it won't sound weak. "You're welcome."

She looks back down to her hands. She says nothing and our time will soon expire. Alice is only cleaning up Grace and changing her clothes into something she purchased for church. If she sees Bella, game over.

Bella's hands disappear from the table. I watch as she opens her bag. I note the length of her hair. It's a little bit shorter. Her complexion seems brighter. Her skin softer, if that were possible. It shows the care she is taking of herself. 'What goes in must come out' and all of that. Her fingers slide something towards me.

Her voice is soft. "She looks happy."

I don't need to see the photos to know this. "She is."

Bella nods. She looks at me. "Can I keep this one?" And she is talking about the one I left on Charlie's grave, this morning.

I nod.

"Thank you." I watch her fingers lift the picture. I watch her give it one last look before she puts it back in her bag. I watch those same fingers tuck her hair behind her ear. I watch them fall into her lap and I don't need to see them to know she is fidgeting. "I'd um…I was…do you think that…"

And she stops. She closes her eyes. She takes a cleansing breath and she starts again. She speaks slowly. "Do you think that I could see her?"

Before I can answer or move my head, she starts talking again. Rambles.

"I did what you asked. I mean, I'm seeing someone. I have my own place and like, a real job. Well, it's a shitty job, but like, they take out taxes and stuff. A lot of taxes. It's really quite ridiculous how much money the government makes off of other people working. But, whatever. I'm just saying that I'm doing what you wanted and even though it sucks, I'm doing it." Her face cringes and she balls her fist on the table.

She shakes her head. "That's not how I planned to say that. I should have started by saying 'thank you' . I should have started with that."

And I am trying not to find her amusing. I'm trying not to smile at her ramble and the relief that floods through me when I hear she is on the straight and narrow. I am kicking the shit out of myself for thinking otherwise.

"Tell me more about those things."

Her eyes glance up and search mine. To my surprise - and not really - I don't look away.

"Uh…which one? What do you want to know?"

Everything. Where have you been Bella? What have you done? Who have you become? Why didn't you call me and tell me. Why did you lock me out? Why did you miss Grace's christening and her birthday. That first Christmas and her wobbly legs. Why?

"Where do you work? What do you do there?"

Her fingers pick at themselves. She tries to be brave and look at me, but she fails several times as she replies. "A restaurant. Um, I was hired as a busser, but like…they pretty much make me do whatever they want. Like, sometimes kids like to throw spaghetti on the walls, or men have…bathroom issues…and even though this guy who is also a busser is supposed to take out the trash the nights he works, he never does.

"And I get stuck doing it. But I don't say shit, 'cause like I live there and I don't want to start trouble and lose my job and then have to still live there, you know?"

And her face flushes at her words. And my silence, as I process everything she just relayed.

"You live there?"

She talks to her fingers. "Yeah, well…it kind of makes sense."

"Bella…" I have to stop for a moment. Saying her name. They way it just leaves my mouth. "How do you live in a restaurant?"

Her voice is small. "Not in it. Just above it. There's a small apartment above it."

I nod in understanding and feel a bit foolish. She looks up to me and her eyes wait. For more questions. For the answer to her own. I can't help but to hold my tongue and simply stare. The tip of my finger begs to reach over and wipe the black smudge from the corner of her eye.

I want to dip my napkin in the glass of water on the table and erase the lines where there used to be rosy cheeks. I want to take her hand into mine and see if it still feels the same. Her nails are clean, despite the work she has just described. They are clipped short, which tells me she is being truthful. It is Charlie's birthday, which is why they are painted with a clear coat of polish.

"What the hell are you doing here?" And the scared look in her eyes tell me that is Alice.

I look over my shoulder.

"Alice."

She keeps her eyes on Bella. "Don't Alice me, Edward. You. Get out."

"Stop it," I stand and reach for Grace, but she takes a step back. "Alice, stop it and give me Grace, please. We'll be late for church."

"Is she going?"

I reach for Grace, again, and do not reply until she has handed her over. I rest her on my hip and reach for my jacket with my free hand. Bella is looking towards the window. The reflection shows me her fear and her embarrassment.

"I suppose that is up to Bella."

Her face looks towards mine. I see the clear back in her eyes and a chin that resembles Grace's legs. I extend my free hand to her. She looks at it like that first day. And this where we either go forward or backwards. And I feel like I am watching my own life in slow motion. As she scoots from the booth. As she fixes her clothes. As she grabs her bag. As she places her palm down inside of mine. As my fingers hold on to her hand and nothing and yet everything has changed.

"That's just great. This is just great." And as Alice is pissed off at me. "You choose her after all the shit-"

"Alice." I shake my head. "Not today. Not here." I take a step forward and kiss my sister's cheek. "Thank you for our breakfast."

Bella is at my side. And I am once again fighting for a girl who stopped fighting for us. What am I doing? What the hell am I doing? I keep walking. I feel her feet slow as we exit Alice's bakery. She lets go of my hand. And here it comes. Here it fucking comes. Break my heart Bella. Go on. Here it comes.

But, she doesn't pay attention to me and my thoughts. She doesn't look at me. She doesn't turn and run. She is just looking at the eyes that are looking at her, over my shoulder. And I swear, I hate her and love her and want to slap her and hug her and I want to walk away while yelling at her that she isn't worthy of those eyes. I want to carry Grace to my car and hide her away and tell Bella to go back from where she came from.

But I am not Bella and I keep my word. I keep my promises.

I do what I say and she won't break me and she won't win. She won't turn me into something I am not and so fine. I talk to Grace how we talk. I ask her how I ask her things and she answers me how she answers me. She talks how she talks. We understand each other how we understand each other.

And her answer is arms that want to accept someone she doesn't know beyond pictures and short stories. Through pictures I found in old newspapers of Chief Swan, who is also Grandpa. Or would have been. She had to know whose eyes she had. And they are the same. Bella. Charlie. Grace. She needed an identity and yeah, Bella, Grace, they are the same.

And she must love the way Bella's hair smells because that is where her face is. She must love the warmth of her neck and Bella must have figured out what it is to actually love and give a shit about something and realize what the hell she has missed because she holds that blessing like she should have a fucking year ago. And it is Sunday and church is starting in twenty minutes, but the members will be let down. The preacher won't have much to say and I don't need to sit in a pew to hear how good God is.

God is here.

God is right here.

And words…words seem rather dull. Rather superfluous. Rather pale, in comparison to action. To proof before my eyes. To rhythms in my heart and speedy pulse rates. To underlined happiness and how light my shoulders feel; seeing caramel heads of hair highlighted under the sun. Arms and how simple gestures and affection speak. Mouths and how tiny kisses have never been bigger. Tears and how crocodiles cannot been seen, for they flood in my own and I have to press my tongue to the roof of my mouth to stop it.

She doesn't need to hear.

Sunday

"You're late."

She closes the front door and I note her clothes. She still has her apron on. It's dirty.

"They made me stay after my shift." She pulls the rubber band from her hair and then gathers her hair again, putting it into a neater ponytail. She looks to the floor, where Grace should be playing.

I answer her unspoken question. "You're late and now she is napping."

Her face sours. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to stay. I told them that Sundays I can't work late, but they just don't give a shit, Cullen."

"Do you?"

And I see how my words cut. But my defenses and my history with her produced them. She nods. She doesn't spout off at the mouth. She just nods and looks like a scared little girl who is being scolded.

I push my anger aside. I nod to the space next to me on the couch. "Sit."

Her bag rests down on the floor. She reaches back and unties her apron. She rolls it up and look around for a place to put it. She sees my irritation and she settles for letting it sit in her lap and she takes up residency next to me.

"Oh." She reaches into her bag. She pulls out an envelope. Her hand shakes a little as she extends it to me.

I take it. "What is this?"

She looks nervous. "It's for Grace. And you."

My finger slips under the seal. I see green and I look back up to her.

"It's not a lot, but they moved me up to be a waitress now, so like, I get good tips. Well, better tips. Plus, my boss said if I fix up my place I won't have to pay rent. Just utilities. I'm pretty good at painting and stuff. 'Cause you know…'cause of Charlie." And she is back to talking to her hands. "I'll have more next time."

I toss the envelope to the coffee table.

"Money doesn't make you a good parent, Bella."

She looks up at me and I know she wants to yell. I know I'm pissing her off and maybe I am doing it on purpose. I'm not sure. Maybe I am trying to push her away. Maybe I get some sick joy out of watching her squirm or maybe I have just lost my damn mind. Maybe I'm just still pissed off at her and want it to burn her. Maybe I just can't accept that she is doing what I wanted. Maybe I am just building walls incase she does run, again.

"I know that. I know that."

Maybe I'm just pissed that Grace is sleeping and she missed out on the one day a week she had to be here on time.

"And we don't need your money, Bella."

And watching her crumple isn't as much fun as a Bella who would yell back at me. I rub my hand over my face.

"I'm sorry. I'm just pissed off that you missed your time with her today."

Her eyes widen. "And you think it makes me happy? I didn't do it on purpose."

I nod and I want to just forgive and forget, talk about something else, offer her a drink, watch something on television and just relax…but that is just old hat. That is just what got us into this mess. That is just ignorance and that is just a long time ago.

"Don't do it again. If you're late next time, don't bother coming at all."

Sunday

I hear her laughing, but I am too busy searching for my phone to look over and see why.

"She's getting good at this."

I turn my head for a second. Maybe two. Three. Grace is holding Bella's hands, trying to keep her balance and Bella lets go. As soon as her legs get shaky, Bella grips her waist and then, that's where the laughing comes from. Bella's.

And I forget what the hell I was looking for. I join them on the floor and play along. After a few exchanges of hands, Bella looks over to me.

"I read something."

I smile at Grace as she smiles at me, but answer Bella. "What did you read?"

"It was about…you know…kids like Grace."

"Deaf children," I say easily.

Not so much. "Yeah."

Grace bounces and I laugh at her silliness. Happiness. "Go on."

"It's about something you can put in their ears. So…you know."

"They can hear," I nod. "I know all about it, Bella."

She doesn't reach out for Grace when I try to pass her over. Her face is a little confused. Maybe even a little angry.

"So why the hell…"

I cut her off. "Because that's not my choice entirely, Bella. They're not my ears."

She thinks and then shakes her head. "You're her doctor. Her…you're her father. You're supposed to do those things. Make those choices."

I sit Grace in my lap. She plays with the colors on the mat in front of us.

"I did make a choice. I made a choice to let her choose." She still doesn't get it. I kiss Grace's head and then scoot her from my lap, sitting her on her own between us. "Put your hands over your ears."

She makes a face, but does it.

I shake my head. "Press harder."

She does. I reach for the remote and turn up the volume as high as it will go. I let Bella get acclimated to the sound of nothing for several minutes, then pull her hands away. Her face cringes and she covers her ears again. I flip off the television.

"Now imagine adding every other noise you hear on top of that. Your own voice. The sound of mine. The heat turning on and off. The way the fireplace sounds. The way her toys sound. Someone randomly laughing." I shake my head. "Could you imagine the confusion, Bella?"

She thinks for a moment and then nods.

"I just think it would be wiser to wait until she was old enough to tell us how she feels. I don't want to just do something to her she won't understand. Something I can't explain because she's too young to comprehend. It's her choice more than anyone elses."

Grace holds a block up to Bella. Her eyes go there and she smiles. She takes the block.

She looks at me. "How do you say thank you?"

And my fingers show her. Bella's fingers show Grace and I don't know if she understands it or not, but she smiles back at Bella and it's good enough.

Sunday

"Ready to go to the park?" I'm asking Grace, but really Bella.

"Is it okay if I use the bathroom first? I don't think I've peed since this morning."

I laugh and nod. "Hurry. Grace has waited all day for you."

She quickly climbs the steps and I wait for her to return. I hear voices and then arguing. I follow the sound and push my bedroom door open. It's Bella and Angela. They pause once they see me.

"What's going on?"

Bella looks at Angela. "Why don't you ask her."

Angela shakes her head. "I told you, I was just putting away Dr. Cullen's things."

"What things?" I ask. "You don't work today, Angela."

"She was in your desk," Bella answers for her.

I look over and see the drawer open. I lock that drawer. It should not be open.

"I was not," Angela argues. "I don't know why she is saying these things. Why are you saying these things?"

Bella gawks at her. "I saw you."

Angela shakes her head. "You never did like me. I'm sorry Dr. Cullen, but you know that's true. And I mean no disrespect, but she has never been very kind to me. Or fair."

"You fucking bitch. You fucking bitch." And old Bella returns. She shoves Angela and I have to put Grace on the bed and pull her away.

"Stop it. Just knock it off, Bella."

She shrugs out of my grasp. "Me? Why are you pissed at me? I wasn't the one rummaging through your things."

"She's lying, Sir."

And I feel like a ping-pong ball. "How about this; everyone gets out of my room."

Angela seems fine with this idea and starts to walk away, but Bella grabs for her. She looks at me. "You're seriously going to believe her?"

"I have no reason not to, Bella."

My words unintentionally slap her face. "And you have plenty of reasons to not believe me….right, Cullen?"

I reach for her hands and uncurl her fingers from Angela's wrist. "This isn't about us."

"Yes it is. You hired this person to watch Grace. She lives here with her. This has everything to do with us, Edward."

And it's the first time she's said my name since she's come back. The first real sign that Bella wants to protect her child and the first time she has made a reference to her being ours.

Her eyes plead with mine. "Just make her answer your question. If she has a reason that is a good reason, then we'll go the damn park and I'll never bring it up again."

And it's fair enough. I look at Angela and there is only silence. And silence has never been so loud. And all the months of searching for my missing things and swearing that it was me, that it was Bella's absence and that she always found what I lost, comes to a screeching halt. Esme's rings when she washed Grace. I didn't lose anything. Checks. I didn't misplace anything. Phone. I didn't work too late or miss Bella too much or was careless. Alice's purse. It was her. It was her.

"You have ten minutes to pack your things before I call the authorities to escort you out of my home."

Monday

"Can you say 'I concur?'"

"I concur."

She shakes her head. "When we are with them, today. Can you say it when they ask for your opinion?"

I can't help my smile. "May I ask, why?"

She shrugs and child Bella makes an appearance. "I saw this movie…um…with the guy from the boat movie-" she chews her finger as she thinks. "The one where it sinks?"

"Titanic?"

Her finger goes from her mouth, to pointing at me. "Yeah."

"Leonardo DiCaprio."

She smiles and nods. "Yeah, that guy. Anyhow, he was in this other movie we watched in class - I don't know the name of it either - but anyway…he was pretending to be a doctor and so he watched movies where they always said 'I concur', so when he didn't know what to say, that's what he said."

I am amused, but slightly confused. "How did that make him more of a doctor?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. I guess that's what doctors do. Don't they?"

I snort a little as I laugh. "Apparently, not this one." I wave to myself. "Nor, any of the ones I have worked with."

"Well, maybe you could start a trend."

"I'm not really trendy, Bella."

She laughs a little and it's adorable. Warm. Her eyes. Goddamn. "Then we could think of it as a test. Like, rats. If one does something, will the others follow suit. This is what today is for anyhow."

"Now I'm a rat."

More laughing and I have to shove my hands into pockets so I don't touch her.

"No. We're just doing a test." She faces the glass where the other doctors are. "They're the rats."

The door opens and I turn my head. "Dr. Cullen. Are we ready for lunch, Sir?"

I nod. "Yeah, Dad. We're ready for lunch."

He laughs and we follow him and the group of doctors down the hallway. We end up at a place downtown. There is a warm fire going inside and I am glad.

We are given the best table in the house and it is adjacent to that fire. I go to turn and help Bella with her coat, but a waiter has already offered and I take my seat.

She is only being nice and he compliments her outfit and she smiles. She is only polite as she says thank you for him scooting in her chair. I tell myself this and it does nothing to solve the jealousy in me. The claim I still feel for her. The need my arm has to reach over and allow it to rest on the back of her chair. I am like an animal who wants to mark territory that isn't mine. It's foul and I place my attention to the water the waiter is now serving. The menu he hands me and the other guests at our table.

Until, "This is in French or something," is whispered in my ear, not anyone else's.

And I have to look over. I have to have my face just inches from hers. I have to breathe in order to answer her and when I do, it's the scent of her hair and her skin. The shine of her lips, so close, so pink. That little bit of unsure and scared that lives eternally inside the caramel.

And my napkin is my savior as I hold on to it and do not touch her. Do not move back the piece of hair that blocks her face from fully being shown. Do not brush the back of my fingers to her cheek that is begging for assurance. Do not place my lips on her nose or chin and goddamn.

"Would you like me to order for you?" Her eyes are just looking at my mouth. And she is just nodding until someone calls my name. I look over to see it was Dr. Stanley.

"Don't you think that vacationing in Aspen is much better than Hawaii?" She leans on her hand and waits for my reply. I am about to say something when I feel something on my leg, all of a sudden. It kind of hurts.

"Uhhh…" I look down quickly. It's Bella's fingers curling tightly. Her face is dead locked on Dr. Stanley. I discreetly reach down and slide my finger to relieve the pain, uncurling her fingers. "Not really. We have enough snow and cold weather here. I would prefer somewhere warmer."

Much warmer. My hand slides under Bella's. I feel like I am back in Jr. High. Water is my best friend. I sip and Jessica keeps blabbing on. The waiter stops by us and I order our food. Our hands are still touching and isn't until I feel her hand move, holding tighter to my fingers that I realize I am rubbing circles with my thumb on the soft skin next to her own thumb.

"Sir." The waiter places down our food and I have barely heard any of the conversation at the table, nor made any. I look over as he sets Bella's food in front of her. I wait for approval and she gives a smile. And it is then that I realize I have to let go of her hand if I want to eat. And she has to do the same. And neither of us move. I smile sheepishly and she does the same.

"Is there something wrong, Sir?" The waiter asks me quietly, leaning in.

I shake my head. "No. No, everything is fine." I squeeze Bella's fingers. She squeezes them back and then we let go.

By the time our meal has gotten to the coffee/dessert portion, I am more than ready to leave. I look over to Bella. She is eating her dessert and paying attention to what the others are discussing, intently. I smile to myself and try to see what she is supposed to look for. Their mannerisms. Their tones. Their posture. And I am supposed to play my part. I wait for the opportune moment.

"I don't know. I think that often we over prescribe our patients."

I look to the other doctor. He takes a sip of coffee before he retorts. "Oh, I wouldn't say 'over' prescribe."

Another. "Some patients don't want to use diet and exercise What are you supposed to do?" She shrugs and cares more about her chocolate cake.

Another. "They love the drugs. Please."

My father. "Actually, I believe our kind has become a little bit lazy. Our lack of educating our patients properly prevents many from being able to fully understand what we diagnose them with having. Imagine, we have all been through the proper education courses, have years of experience under our belts, hands-on experience, and then in a fifteen minute visit, you try to relay all that you know to a person.

He shakes his head, stirring his cup of coffee. "No, it's not the patient. It is us. We, as doctors, have gotten to used to handing over a slip of paper and expecting them to understand what all those terms and warnings mean. We have failed. Not the patient."

The table is silent as he sips his coffee. Dr. Stanley looks over to me. "What are your thoughts, Dr. Cullen? Do we over medicate?"

I smile a little. I pick up my own coffee mug. "I concur with my father." I take a sip and then watch as the remaining doctors start to nod.

An older man, picks up his mug and nods towards my father. "I concur with Dr. Cullen as well."

And the table is a round of "I concurs". I glance over to Bella and she glances over to me. Her smile lights up my heart. She leans over.

"That was fucking amazing."

I find her fingers under the table. I lace mine into hers.

"I concur."

She laughs and so do I .

And so do I.

 

 

REVIEW THIS CHAPTER

Under the Apple Tree

Chapter 58: Meetings

Bella

---

Friday

"Doll! Hey, Doll!"

My feet try to walk faster, but I am too damn tired and hung over. I feel his hand on my shoulder when he catches up to me.

"Hey, I was calling you." He walks beside me, across the campus lawn.

"Yeah, so I heard. Make it your damn life's mission to make sure the rest of school did too, Garrett?"

Faster. Must walk faster.

"Sorry. Um…so, that was an awesome party the other night. People are still talking about it and how Bella swan took down half the football team."

I pause. I stare at him. "What do you mean?"

"Ya' know. Drank them under the table. I've never seen a girl drink so much."

I start walking again. "Yeah, well, I'm amazing, Garrett. What can I say."

He laughs like it's funny, but it's not fucking funny. Nothing is fucking funny. I push my way through the library doors. He is still following me.

"There's another one tonight. I thought we could go. But like….some people are gonna hang out before. Over at the café. Maybe see a movie. I was thinking that…"

I slam my books on the table. "Did you not hear me say I had a goddamn boyfriend who was a doctor? Did your stupid eyes not see him pick me up a few weeks ago? Did you not see how fucking hot he is and how I practically dry-humped him on the campus lawn? Are you stupid or something, Garret?"

I am yelling in a very quiet place. My motherfucking head throbs. Garrett looks embarrassed. I just don't give a shit.

"Uhhh…..but you came to the party and like…"

"And like WHAT?"

"Well….you were being all, ya' know, shmoozy."

"Shmoozy? Is that what you call drunk around here? 'Cause that's what I was Garret. I was fucking drunk and you don't mean shit to me. You're short and you smell horrible after lunch. You'd let me walk all over you and there's only one man I want to fuck and it isn't you. It's a goddamn doctor an hour away." And I am digging through my bag until I find the small bottle of lotion. "Here ya' go. Have fun fucking yourself."

I take a seat and he is still standing there. My head whips his way. "Did you not here me? I said, gooooooo. Fuck. Off."

And with one last scrunching of his brows, he leaves. I face forward and I know they are all staring at me. But like I said- I just don't give a shit.

Meeting one

So, it kind of went like this.

"What brings you here today, Miss Swan?"

"I blacked-out this weekend and didn't know where I was."

He scribbles on a piece of paper. "Were you sick? Drugged?"

"Yeah. Cross both off, Doc."

He lifts his face. "Care to expand on that?"

"No, go fuck yourself."

I take my shoes off his designer couch and leave a muddy trail of footprints before I slam the door.

Meeting two

"Glad to see you back."

"Yeah, well….I just missed your pretty face so much." Doctor…whatever his name is…has a scar on the side of his face. Almost looks like he was burned or something. It's gross.

"So, what brings you here today, Miss Swan? Besides the need to see my pretty face?" And alright, hahahahaha, Doctor. Ha-ha-fucking ha.

"My "boyfriend" said I had to."

"Said you had to what?"

Isn't he smart? "Come. Here."

"Because?"

"Because I am a cruel evil bitch and he has my kid."

More scribbles. "You share a child together?"

"No. Didn't you hear me? He has her."

"And why is that?"

The questions. Oh my fucking God. The questions.

"Because obviously I would be so well-suited to have a small child in my care."

More scribbles. "How old is your child?"

"She is a few months. I think."

"What is her name?"

My throat is on fire. "Grace."

His voice goes all soft. "When was the last time you saw Grace?" And I want to rip his tongue out when he says her name. How dare he say her name. Like he knows us. Her. Like he knows her.

"Well, let's see Doc. I just said she was a few months, so I guess that means a few fucking months, now doesn't it?"

"And, her father, asks that you seek therapy. What is he fearful of?"

"He isn't even her real dad. I mean, he like adopted her and he thinks he can just take her and like he is such a prick. I mean he is such a prick. Fuck, I love him so much and I am just fucking things up, you know. I am just fucking things up. He is so nice and I am just fucking things up."

"Grace is adopted, but am I correct in assuming that you and he are together in a relationship?"

And this is where I stand up. "For a shrink, you sure as shit don't listen. If he has her and I haven't seen her in months, then what makes you assume that I am with him? That he wants me? Do you just not listen?"

Meeting adjourned.

Somewhere in the fucking week.

"Hey Swan, pick it up. Those tables should have been bussed thirty minutes ago."

Die. Die. Die.

"Yeah, I'm trying. Sorry, Sir." And 'Sir' is all of twenty two and still pimple-faced. I bet he whacks off to Britney Spears or that Disney broad with the tile-teeth.

"Move your ass." He says it like he owns me and yeah, whatever, I guess he does.

I want to laugh at that. A 'man' telling me to move my ass and only getting paid less that five bucks an hour and tips that don't make up the difference as they are supposed to. Move my ass. Move my ass. Oh, if I moved my ass, I could make rent in an hour. I could pay my stupid fucking debt to school in two. I could be…

I walk out and do my job. I take the dirty shit and bring it to the kitchen to wash. I am disgusting and yeah, I am disgusting.

Meeting twenty.

"So, I think I want to call him."

Doc is silent and lets me go on. "I just…It's been a long time. I…I miss him."

"So, why not call him?"

"He might not want to talk to me. It's been a long time, like I just fucking said."

"What if he does?"

"Then I don't even know what I would say. I mean, what do you say? 'Hi, sorry I dropped out of your life, but I'm trying to fix that shit?'"

"It's a place to start."

I laugh, but it's not funny. "You really give horrible goddamn advice."

In my apartment

My fingers stroke the back of the phone. They feel the plastic and they wish it were real. They wish it were soft and strong and warm. They wished it smelled of lavender and trust and comfort. They wish it could hold and just be here.

But it can't and picking it up seems like it would weigh too much. What did he say about his mother? If she wanted to know him she'd find him. He hasn't found me. He hasn't called. He hasn't shown up to check my floor. Or couch. It is clean. I cleaned it. I passed my test this week. I wasn't late for class. But there's no ringing and no check-ups or check-ins or letters with sweet words and there is just me.

There is just me.

Meeting forty five

I lay with my back to him. It is easier to talk to the pillow on his couch. To the thread my fingers are pulling. I am sure I am going to mess up his designer couch cushion, but whatever. He charges enough to fix it and I had to scrub the aftermath of 'all-you-can-eat-ribs' off the toilets to pay for it.

"You think she fucked me up, right?"

"I'd like to know what you think, Bella. What do you think Renee did to you?"

I pull harder to the thread. "I think she taught me how to drink and I think she punished me for what she couldn't accept."

And I hate myself.

I hear his pencil on his paper. "Is that the truth, or just what you think I would like to hear?"

I pull the thread until I see the underside of his stupid damn pillow. "It's the truth. She fucked me up."

"And you fear you will impact your daughter this way?"

I ask the pillow. "Aren't I?"

"You're seeking help."

"Lot of help it's doing, Doc."

"Have you tried reaching out to Edward?"

We established the importance of names five meetings ago. I still can't say it though. And it burns like a son of a bitch to hear.

"Cullen won't talk to me."

"Have you tried?"

Goddamn it. "Tried? Yes. I put my fucking hand on the phone and it shook so bad I couldn't lift the receiver. I wrote a letter and my writing was too messy. I have a motherfucking box sitting on my countertop he gave me almost a year ago and I can't even open it. Tried? Yeah, I have tried, Doctor."

So calm. So irritating. "What is in the box?"

"A stupid laptop he bought."

"Why won't you open it?"

I grip the fabric of the pillow. "Because it doesn't belong to me."

"You don't think you deserve things he gave you?" More scribbles.

"Ahoy, Captain Obvious."

"Do you think Edward would feel this way?"

I sit up and face him. My face feels a hundred. "No."

He looks surprised. I feel like fist-pumping the air, catching him off guard with my answer. I sit still.

"Why?"

I raise my wrist and shake it about. "He gave me this so I wouldn't forget."

"Forget what?"

I lower my face and don't feel so victorious any more. I curl back into my friend, the pillow. "That I was."

"Was what, Bella?"

I talk to the thread. "Worthy."

My apartment

"You've been a good tenant, Miss Swan. All of your rent was paid on time. No complaints from neighbors. We would love to have you sign another lease with us."

She smiles and there is a new paper. His name is not on it. He is not at my side.

I shake my head no. "I think I am going to find somewhere a little cheaper. Maybe, with a roommate or something."

Her smile fades a little. "Well, that's too bad. But good luck to you."

I nod and stand up from my seat. I turn and go for the door handle.

"I hear Hunnington Grove is nice."

I look over my shoulder. She smiles and then resumes her work on the computer.

"Thanks." And I am out the door, but I am not headed there.

Work

"It's not much, but…at least I know you'll never be late." Sir's father's wife is joking, but it's not really funny.

"It's fine. And yeah, you're right."

"Here's the key. We'll take rent out of your checks and obviously if you need something, you know where to find us." She hands over the key.

I nod and she takes a step back. "Well, I'll let you unpack. See you, later."

I nod again and she is gone. It smells like grease and annoying fucking customers. It is dark and small and in need of some serious cleaning. The floor boards creek as I walk across them. But it is cheap and convenient and didn't require a deposit or Cullen's signature.

Later

"Come on, pretty girl. Just one drink. Come on, just one with your favorrrrrite customerrrrr." He is grabbing at my hip and trying to be charming, but he reeks and I reek and I just want to grab his line of empty glasses and find the kitchen.

"Can't drink while I'm working." Or ever. "You know the rules." I try to be nice. I try.

His hand tugs at my hip again. I stumble a little. "Just one. You'd make me so happy if you would just…have one." He pulls me harder and my bin of dirty dishes falls hard against the table. He puts his mouth and his smoke and his beer breath against my cheek. "I got a good one for you, pretty girl. A real good one."

"Hey! Lay off, Jimmy." Sir's father helps me out.

"Aww, Ray, I was just helping her with 'er dishes." He laughs stupidly and drinks until he is done. He puts the glass down and winks at me, licking his lips. I want to punch him in the goddamn face and tell him to go fuck himself. I want to run to my father. I want to tell him he is a piece of shit drunk. I want to find Cullen and hide under his arm.

"Get back to work, Swan."

Meeting…I don't even know the number.

"How does this making you feel?"

I grip harder to the item in my hands. I say nothing. He waits. I throw it on the table before me.

"I don't want to do this shit."

"It is only a candy bar, Bella."

I rub at my eyes and dig my free fingers into my palm until it hurts. "You know that if it was just a stupid fucking candy bar I wouldn't be here. Why must you always make me point out the obvious?"

"It is the truth." He reaches forward and picks it up. He slowly rips the wrapper and takes a small bite. "Tastes like chocolate and nougat, to me. It is quite good. Would you like a try?"

"Fuck off. Just go fuck off. You are such an insensitive prick."

He takes another bite. "Still just candy."

I kick his table. I knock the magazines off it and the vase of flowers. He sits back and continues to eat the chocolate bar. When he has the last bite swallowed, he crinkles the wrapper in his hands and tosses it to the trash can. His hands clasp in his lap.

"I will be charging you for those."

Of course. Of fucking course.

Today

A bear. A card. I park my truck and my hands shake. When I get out and close the door, I only see fresh and revived. The truck. It is bright and no longer rusty. It looks like someone cares for it. It looks like I give a shit. My feet walking towards the grey, mimics that sentiment.

I lower myself down and have no leaves to brush away. I note the footprints in the ground and I know who they belong to. I know who has been here and I know why my father's grave is clean and well cared for. I see another teddy bear and a note. A 'grandpa' in perfect script and a picture. A balloon and I don't even time to stop myself before the pain rips from my chest, tearing a hole big enough to fit the universe in. And my tears aren't tears because I feel sorry for myself. My pain isn't my own and my pain isn't really even pain. It is gratefulness and stupidity and regret. It is time I allowed to pass and calls I should have made to just simply say that I was sorry and that I love you and that I am trying.

I am trying.

He does.

I try.

He is.

I try.

I let my own bear and card sit on the grey. I fall against where I want to be and just say all my sorries to the only person who can't hear them. The only person who would still accept me after all I have done. And what would he say Bella? That it's alright. Charlie would say it's alright. And? And that I should fix it. How? I don't know. Yes you do. No. yes you do.

And my knees hurt. They burn and they hurt. I feel cold pressed to them. I feel the stinging from the medicine and I feel more cold on my chin. I feel rough fingers pressing into my cheeks and a sucking of teeth.

"I'm sorry Daddy."

"It's alright, Baby. It's just blood."

"No, I ruined the trip. My trip ruined the trip."

And he is not angry, just laughing. I hate it.

"It's not funny, Dad Not at all."

"I'm not laughing at you, girl. I'm just…you're just adorable when you're angry." And I look at him and his tired eyes. I look at him and his smile that he puts on even when it is just a put-on. But it wasn't. He was honest and truthful and he really thought those things. And he finishes cleaning up my knees and my elbows and my scratched up chin.

"Falling is just a part of life." And he is giving me his hand and helping me up into his arms and I am carried and pressing my face into the leather of his jacket. Against the patches and name and Chief Swan and honor.

"Yep. Just a part of life. But we get back up, don't we, Baby?" And I am nodding and playing with the thread that my mother hasn't fixed on one of his patches.

When my eyes run of out strength, I simply sit and just feel. When my legs cramp and tell me to stretch out, I just stay in place. I hug myself against the gray and I don't want to let to go. I don't want to leave, but I have to. I have to make my legs move. I have to get up. I have to walk away and I have to let go.

He would want me to.

In the truck, my hands find the only proof I have that I did something right in my life. I pull out the photo and run my fingers over the crinkled lines. I hold it up to the one I took from Charlie's grave and they are the same, but so different. There is so much of him and Cullen in her.

There is so much light and no Renee. There is so much life in those eyes and I need to just…I need to tell him. I need to make it right and I need to tell him at the very least, that I am grateful.

I arrive and I see his car. It's parked. He is inside. If I go inside, I'll have to see Alice. I'll have to face her too. I get out and close the truck door like I am about to sneak up on someone. I walk in the shadows and just linger by the window. I scan the tables. My eyes settle on a booth in the back. There is a man who looks the same. Same shirt. Same pants. Same tie. Same gentle hands. Same stare. Same well-pressed lines in his clothing and none.

But he sits in a booth. Not at a table with a wobbly leg. There is a girl who would need a sturdy table. He is bringing a spoon to her mouth and smiling. He is wiping her face and she is swatting his hands away and he is laughing and happy. He is touching her face and my eyes have found strength again.

They blur and I don't want to miss it. I blink to clear them and then my cheeks. I see Alice walk towards them and she picks Grace up. There is an exchange of words and smiles between her and him and then she carries her towards the back. He takes a few napkins and cleans up what is messy.

I have to make my legs move or I will miss my chance. I open the door and walk quickly towards where he is, but once I am there, I can't breathe as his eyes lift and meet mine. His hand stops moving on the table and the mess is forgotten. His eyes roam down, over my clothing and then slowly back up. I have to breathe.

"Can I sit?"

There is a pause that feels like years.

He nods. His eyes watch me as I slide into the seat across from his.

Meeting one.

Meeting number one.

 

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