My Life to Be by sleepyvalentina

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5439470/1/

"Are you my life to be, my dream come true

Or will this dream of mine fade out of sight

Like the moon growing dim, on the rim of the hill

In the chill, still of the night..."

- Cole Porter

Chapter One

Prologue

It was by far the craziest thing she'd ever done. Still, as his fingertips grazed her
bare arms, she couldn't find it in herself to ask him to stop. She knew she
shouldn't want him to touch her, but from the second she felt his skin against
hers, all thought of right, wrong, and her responsibilities to another man deserted
her.

"Bella," Edward whispered. He pressed the palm of his hand against her cheek as
he lowered his face toward hers.

She closed her eyes, inhaled his scent, and relished the anticipation of a fantasy
about to come to fruition. They'd rallied against their attraction for months, but it
proved stronger than their resistance, their free will, and their reason. It was
even stronger than the commitments they had made to other people.

It was hard to believe that as recently as four months ago, Bella and Edward
were still unknown to each other. The first time he saw her, she was standing
outside a bar during happy hour as the brisk October wind whipped through her
hair, leaving a rosy glow on her pale skin in its wake. Though he was already late
and didn't have the time to spare, Edward spent several moments watching her
from a few feet away. He was captivated by the stunning brunette who held a lit
cigarette that she did not appear to be smoking. The vision was a beautiful
enigma, and Edward was unable to look away. He wanted to approach her, but
knew he shouldn't. After all, his fiancée was waiting inside the bar for him, and if
the twelve text messages she'd sent him in the past twenty minutes were any
indication, she was not doing so patiently.

He should have hurried inside and taken his place beside the woman to whom
he'd offered forever, but instead he stood on the sidewalk transfixed, wondering
if the young woman in front of him would feel uncomfortable if he approached
her. And if he did, would she be willing to answer the two questions at the
forefront of his mind? Namely, he wanted to know why she was pretending to
have an addiction most people considered shameful and if was she single.

The latter question was irrelevant, as Edward was not romantically available to
her. Still, he wanted to know how she'd answer and he wanted to know her,
regardless of how she replied. His decision to approach her made, he spent a
moment debating how to do so. When he finally addressed her, his face was
adorned with his trademark half-smile, which experience had proven virtually
irresistible to the opposite sex. He prayed it wouldn't fail him now.

"The least you could do is inhale. At six bucks a pack, you may as well get your
money's worth."

Startled from her reverie, Bella lifted her cigarette to her lips and breathed in its
fumes. Her lungs had never before been filled with smoke, and she began to
cough uncontrollably causing the still-lit butt to fall from her hands. It found
purchase on her foot, singeing the bare skin left exposed by her high-heeled
pumps.

"Fuck." She grabbed the top of her foot and howled in agony, hopping on her
weight-bearing leg in an acrobatic (if completely useless) attempt to distract
herself from the sting of her scorched flesh.

Realizing her efforts were futile, she released her foot and folded her arms over
her chest. She made a quick study of Edward, noting his broad shoulders, bright
green eyes, and disheveled auburn hair. While doing so, Bella did not attempt to
conceal her annoyance. Or her attraction.

"Can't a girl pretend to smoke in peace?"

She'd meant to make it clear to the strange but handsome man beside her that
his attention was not welcome. Somehow, her words came out sounding more
flirtatious than dismissive, and she knew she'd inadvertently encouraged him.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he said apologetically. "I've just never seen a
person stage smoke outside in frigid weather."

"Stage smoke?"

"You know. Pretend you have an addiction to a nasty habit that could kill you."

"It's illegal to smoke in public buildings in Philadelphia," Bella reminded him.

"Yes, but you weren't really smoking."

He was openly mocking her, and she loved it.

"It's not like running for president." Bella could no longer prevent herself from
smiling. "I won't get out of paying the fine if I claim I didn't inhale."

He laughed, and she soon forgot about both the no-longer significant burn on her
foot as well as her significant other waiting for her inside.

"Well, you have a point there. But why pretend in the first place?"

"No." She shook her head. "I'm not going to reveal my secrets to you. I don't
even know your name."

It was the invitation he'd been waiting for.

"I'm Edward. Nice to meet you."

He held out his hand to her, and she shook it tentatively.

"Bella."

"So, Bella..." Edward looked at her expectantly, and she sighed in resignation.

"I'm hiding from my boyfriend," she explained.

"You mean your ex-boyfriend."

"No, I mean my boyfriend."

Edward tried to wrap his mind around her admission. He was disappointed on
both counts, that not only was she taken, but that the man who claimed her
made her feel compelled to pretend to be someone she wasn't.

"That's insane."

"I do it all the time. Sometimes his work friends are hard to take."

"But he has to know you don't smoke."

Bella shook her head. "Actually, he doesn't."

"So one day, you just decided to take up fake smoking when you needed a
moment to yourself?"

"Not exactly. It's kind of a long story, and I should be getting back inside." And
away from temptation, Bella added silently. "It was nice meeting you, Edward."
Seconds later, she vanished.

Edward lingered on the sidewalk, unable to suppress or define what he was
feeling, but completely aware that he was not yet ready to let it go. He knew that
one way or another, he'd see Bella again. It just never occurred to him that it
would happen only five minutes later. When Edward finally joined his girlfriend at
happy hour, she ushered him over to a table at which he found Bella sitting with
her significant other. As a bizarre stroke of luck would have it, Bella's boyfriend
shared an office with Edward's fiancée.

Over the next few months, Edward saw Bella again and again, sometimes even
with the encouragement of his betrothed. Officially, they were friends who
entertained each other during the hours they were abandoned by their corporate
ladder-climbing partners. Beneath the surface, their intense connection deepened
despite the fact they were unwilling to verbally acknowledge it. That was a line
Bella believed they would never cross, until one afternoon when Edward arrived
at her apartment, clearly distraught but unwilling to discuss why.

Bella asked him what was wrong, but he didn't answer. Instead, he shook his
head before leaning into her as if he was about to kiss her, but his eyes bore all
the lusty intensity of a man who had no intention of letting it stop there. It was
ridiculous under the circumstances, but he couldn't help but feel his entire life
had been leading to this moment. Edward was done fighting fate. He simply
needed to know if Bella felt the same way.

Resting his forehead against hers, he cupped her face in his hands, stroking her
cheeks with his thumbs.

"Tell me to stop and I will." His voice was heavy with the anguish of anticipation.

Thankfully, Bella didn't make him wait long before she closed the small distance
between them.

"Don't ever stop," she whispered before pressing her lips to his.

From that moment, they both knew.

There would be no going back.

Chapter Two

Day's Night Today, Black's White Today

"Emmett McCarty, please."

When Celine Dion's wail gave Bella confirmation that the receptionist had indeed
placed her on hold, she activated her phone's speaker and stretched out on her
bed, knowing from experience it would be a while before her boyfriend answered
his office line. Halfway through the song, the music was replaced by a ring. Bella
was not at all surprised when she was greeted once again by the receptionist. It
was, after all, her fourth unsuccessful attempt at contacting her boyfriend that
evening.

"He isn't answering his line," the receptionist replied in her nasal voice. "Would
you like his voice mail?"

"No, thank you."

Bella was becoming more frustrated with each passing second. She'd left Emmett
two messages already, one on his office line and one on his cell phone. Before
she could think better of it, the words rolled off her lips.

"Is Rosalie Hale available?"

"Let me try her extension. One moment, please."

The woman whom Bella detested more than she could possibly articulate
answered on the second ring.

"Rosalie Hale."

Bella chose to ignore the fact she could hear Emmett talking in the background.

"Hi, Rose. It's Bella. I've been trying to get in touch with Emmett all day. You
wouldn't happen to know where I could find him, would you?"

"I'm so sorry, Bella, but I haven't seen him all afternoon."

The moment Rose uttered Bella's name, all noise from her office ceased.

"Well, if you see him, could you tell him I'm trying to get in touch with him?"

"I'll tell him if I see him."

As always, Bella was amazed by the ease with which Rose lied to her.

"Thank you, Rose."

"No problem. Bye."

Bella had no sooner ended the call, when her phone began ringing with a call
from Emmett's cell.

"I've been trying to get hold of you for an hour now."

"Tied up in meetings. You wouldn't believe how crazy things are over here. What
do you need?"

He sounded annoyed by Bella's interruption and not at all contrite that he'd
forgotten their plans.

"It's our six-month anniversary, remember? We had plans for tonight that
technically began forty-five minutes ago."

"Shit, Bella, I'm sorry. Rose and I have a presentation to do tomorrow and we're
nowhere near ready. It's going to be another late night."

Emmett frequently blew off plans with Bella due to unforeseen work emergencies,
but she never thought he would do so on such an important night.

"I just wish you'd told me sooner. I've been waiting for you for almost an hour.
Had I known you wouldn't make it, I could have called a girlfriend and kept our
reservation at Le Bec. I was really looking forward to it."

"Is that what this is about?" He started to laugh. "You can go out to eat by
yourself, you know."

"That's not the problem, and you know it. Tonight was supposed to be special. I
realize that working late is sometimes unavoidable, but waiting until now to
cancel is fucking inconsiderate."

"I'm sorry, Bella. I honestly didn't have time to call you until now. Sometimes
things just come up..."

Bella was angry that Emmett said this like it was something she didn't already
know. The fact was, things came up more often than not. She opened her mouth
to respond, but instead bit her lip and sighed. Unwilling to risk saying something
she'd regret, she chose to say nothing at all.

"Look, I don't have time for this. I'll call you tomorrow. Try to have fun without
me."

The line went dead before Bella could reply, and within seconds her
disappointment morphed into anger. She threw her phone down onto her bed and
pulled a barely there black dress out of her closet. She would take Emmett's
advice, but with a slight modification. Bella had no intention of trying to enjoy her
night out alone. She was planning to succeed.

It was too late to go to Le Bec Fin, but that was fine with her. Bella had no desire
to have a quiet, romantic dinner alone. However, beer and noise appealed to her
greatly, and after she walked out of her apartment building, she headed to
Monk's. She had no sooner settled onto a bar stool and ordered herself a Chimay
when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

"Shouldn't you be outside wasting Marlboros? Never mind, Emmett's working
late. There's no need for your ruse."

Bella turned to find Edward standing behind her, wearing a gray suit that
appeared to be bespoke. His tie was loosened and the top of his shirt was
unbuttoned, indicating that his workday was over. She wanted to know if he'd
had plans with Rose that she'd canceled last minute, and if he hated Rose's long
hours as much as she hated Emmett's.

Edward smiled at her, and Bella wondered why she was wasting time thinking
about Emmett and Rose when Edward was standing close enough to her that she
could touch him, something that in rare moments of complete honesty with
herself, she acknowledged she very much wanted to do.

"It's more about his coworkers than him, you know." Bella patted the stool next
to her.

"Oh, you mean like my fiancée?" he joked as he took a seat.

Bella wondered if he was partially serious, and if he knew the extent of her dislike
for Rose.

"Is she on her way? Shit, I think I need a cigarette."

Edward knew Bella was kidding, but there was an edge to her voice he couldn't
ignore.

"Why do you dislike her?" he asked.

"Is that a serious question? I mean, we're talking about Rose."

Edward looked surprised, and Bella realized she had just insulted the woman he
was planning to marry.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to speak disparagingly about your girlfriend. I've only
ever interacted with her at work functions. In all fairness to her, it's mostly
jealousy on my part. She gets to spend far more time with Emmett than I do, and
I'm bitter about that. Take tonight, for example. It's my and Em's six-month
anniversary. Rose is with him. Meanwhile, I'm sitting alone at a bar drowning my
sorrows in triple-fermented Belgian beer. So you see, it's nothing against her
personally. I'm sure she's lovely in social settings."

Edward looked at her through narrowed eyes. "Am I so dull I don't count?"

"Excuse me?"

"You said you were alone at a bar and technically, you're not. I did come over
and join you."

It hadn't occurred to Bella that Edward was planning on lingering any longer than
his acknowledgment of her (which she perceived as obligatory) required.

"Oh."

She felt simultaneously relieved that he wasn't planning to leave any time soon
and guilty for how excited this revelation made her. The latter soon began to
eclipse the former, and even though it was the last thing she wanted, she felt
compelled to offer him an out.

"Though I appreciate the gesture, you're under no obligation to spend the next
few hours sitting at the bar with me."

"Good to know."

Edward slid off his stool and walked away, leaving Bella wondering how she could
have felt so drawn to someone who couldn't wait to get away from her. Moments
later, he reappeared and gestured for her to follow him.

"I actually hate sitting at bars, so I got us a table. It will be easier to hear each
other that way."

Edward led Bella to a booth, where they sat down and ordered dinner. She knew
she shouldn't feel like she was on a date, but for some reason unknown to her
she did. She shook her head in slight confusion, a motion which did not escape
Edward.

"What?" he asked, smiling.

"I just realized how little I know about you. Last week at happy hour, we didn't
really talk."

Edward laughed. "I'm not all that interesting, but feel free to ask me whatever
you'd like."

Bella wanted to know everything, but didn't want to scare him. She decided to
start with the basics.

"What's your full name?"

"Edward Anthony Masen Cullen."

"Is that three first names or two last names?"

"Two last names and one very long story," he explained.

"I have time."

Bella was mortified by her own enthusiasm.

"My maternal aunt and her husband adopted me when I was eight and out of
respect for them, I added their last name."

"That wasn't a long story."

"No, I suppose it wasn't." He shrugged.

"What happened to your parents?"

"They died in a car accident."

"I'm sorry." Bella had no way of knowing the answer to her seemingly harmless
question would be so tragic, but she felt awful regardless.

"It's okay. You didn't know."

Edward offered her a sincere smile, and she was able to relax. After he took a sip
of his beer, he pressed her to continue.

"Your turn. Full name, please."

"Isabella Marie Swan." She rolled her eyes. "My middle name is boring, but my
parents more than made up for that with the unfortunate combination of my first
and last names."

"It isn't that bad," Edward insisted. "If it makes you feel better, I know a man
named Dick Seaman."

Bella couldn't contain her laughter. "Okay, he wins. Seriously, I know it could be
worse but I was harassed quite a bit for it when I was a kid."

"Kids will make fun of anyone for anything."

"True." Bella nervously twirled her napkin around her finger in her lap. "But when
your name means beautiful swan and you are neither pretty nor graceful, bullies
don't need to look too hard for material."

Edward studied the woman across from him. She was pale and lovely, with full
lips, thick shoulder-length brown hair and huge dark eyes. He had a hard time
imagining what she looked like during the awkward years of adolescence, but her
actual appearance didn't matter to him as much as the idea that she'd apparently
allowed the cruelty of other children to affect her self-image.

"Would it make you feel better if I told you I was a high school band geek?"

Bella perked up, her curiosity immediately piqued. "Were you?"

"No," he admitted.

"I hate you."

"You love me."

Bella didn't love Edward, and the fact that she hardly knew him made his
statement so preposterous it could only be a joke. Still, she felt drawn to him,
and in the few days she'd been aware of his existence, found herself daydreaming
about him more often than she cared to admit. For this reason alone, Bella
corrected him.

"I love Emmett, and you love Rose."

There was an awkward silence, during which Edward's mind wandered back to
Rose and how he could feel more at ease with this virtual stranger he'd known
only five days than he did with Rose, with whom he'd been in a committed
relationship for nearly five years.

Eventually, their easy banter resumed. By the end of the evening, they'd covered
most of the basics:

Edward was an engineer-turned-attorney who now worked in patent law, and
Bella was a pediatric nurse practitioner. He lived with Rose in Olde City. Bella
lived alone on Rittenhouse Square. He was a classically trained pianist, and she
could kind of carry a tune, but only when drinking. They both thought Coldplay
was overrated, SEPTA was inefficient, and that the Phillies would have a hard
time beating the Dodgers in the NLCS unless their bullpen improved. They were
both initially disappointed they would not be seeing their significant others that
evening, but they agreed the night turned out far better than either of them could
have hoped.

Edward insisted on walking Bella back to her apartment building, where they
exchanged business cards and cell phone numbers. They parted ways with an
awkward handshake, both wanting to express affection but unsure of what was
appropriate.

As Bella's head touched her pillow, she realized that she enjoyed Edward's
company too much to worry if his motives were pure, and acknowledged a small
part of her wished they weren't.

Across town, Edward climbed into his empty bed and quickly fell asleep. He spent
the next six hours dreaming about sex with Bella. When he awoke alone (and
under a tent) he was overwhelmingly disappointed that his dreams would never
become reality.

It wasn't until he got in the shower that he realized this bothered him more than
the fact Rose had stayed at work all night. The moment he woke up, he should
have called Rose to make sure she was okay. He should have felt guilty that while
she was slaving at the office, he was out with another woman. He should have
known better.

He closed his eyes and wrapped his hand around his cock, allowing his mind to
focus on something else he should know but probably never would.

How it would feel to come inside Bella.

Chapter Three

Most Gentlemen Don't Like Love

(they just like to kick it around)

Emmett pulled off his glasses and rubbed his temples. He hadn't wanted to hurt
Bella. In the time he knew her, she'd been nothing but patient and
understanding, not only of his long hours, but of his decision to prioritize his
career above all else. At thirty-two years old, Emmett was the youngest senior VP
at his firm. His feet were firmly planted on what was commonly referred to as the
fast track, though the route before him at the moment was neither direct or
quickly moving. Emmett knew exactly what was expected of him, but at moments
like this, actually doing it was easier said than done.

About a month ago, Emmett was called into his boss' office for his annual
performance review. The assessment of his work was glowing, with a single
caveat. Emmett was a micro-manager bordering on a control freak who needed
to trust his direct reports to do their jobs. So he took a step back. He gave
assignments and deadlines, and occasionally asked for updates. He didn't hover,
and he didn't check the work of his team. He trusted that it was completed
correctly, never once anticipating that his doing so would cause the veritable shit
storm he now faced – both on a personal and professional level.

"You're going to catch hell, aren't you?" Rose poured herself another cup of coffee
before joining Emmett at the conference table.

"Probably. I'm not going to whine about it. I deserve it."

"There's no way you could have known there would be a software glitch and the
reports would be wrong."

"No," he admitted. "But had I lit a fire under the asses of the developers, Bella
and I would be at Le Bec Fin right now, laughing at how crazy Georges Perrier is
and eating wild mushroom risotto. Instead, I'm elbow deep in code and faulty
data, cursing myself for delegating this project in the first place. And do you
know what the worst part is?"

Rose looked up from her laptop and pushed a lock of blond hair that had
somehow escaped her chignon behind her ear. The large diamond on the fourth
finger of her left hand caught the light, and Emmett remembered she, too, had
disappointed her significant other by staying at work.

He immediately felt like an ass.

"Never mind, Rose. I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to listen to me moan."

She shrugged. "It's okay. You'll be more productive if you let it out."

"Did you have plans with Edward?"

"Yes, but it's no big deal. We were just going to Monk's for beer and mussels. He
was mildly annoyed, but he didn't make an issue of it. He's been known to put in
very long hours himself, therefore he has no room to talk. His career is every bit
as important to him as mine is to me. He knows getting pissed off at me for
working late would be incredibly hypocritical."

"That's the worst part. Bella isn't pissed."

"Oh, really?" Rose challenged him. "Is that why you were hiding from her all
afternoon?"

Emmett took off his tie and threw it onto the conference table in frustration. "Was
it that obvious?"

"A word of advice. If you're hiding from your girlfriend already, whom you've only
dated six months and don't live with, it doesn't say much about your prospects
for long term relationship success. Edward and I lived together for over a year
before he started avoiding me when he was angry."

"That's just it. Bella isn't angry. And you know what? I wish she was. I can handle
that. Yell at me, throw stuff at me, call me names. That's fine. That's what guys
do, and I know how to respond to it. Bella's not like that. She's sensitive and
delicate and just so god damned girly. She doesn't get mad, she gets hurt. She
doesn't raise her voice, she gives me the silent treatment and averts her eyes,
thinking that if she's staring at her lap, I won't notice she's crying. I ask her
what's wrong, and she says she's fine. So I tell her that I know she isn't fine,
because she wouldn't be crying otherwise and she still doesn't tell me what's
wrong. This goes on for hours, but we don't resolve anything because she doesn't
fucking tell me what she wants. It's like she expects me to read her mind, then
gets all disappointed when I don't, like I can help the fact I'm not Miss Cleo. And
it's not just Bella. Every woman I have ever dated does the exact same thing.
You probably pull that shit, too."

"What, passive-aggressive sulking?" Rose asked.

"Yeah, that."

"No, I don't do that."

Emmett looked at Rose in amazement. "You're kidding me."

"I'm totally serious. I don't pout or cry. I yell and throw things. If that doesn't
make me feel better, I either hit the bar or the driving range, depending upon
what time of day it is. There's nothing that a tequila shot or an hour of intense
physical activity can't cure."

Emmett laughed. "And that, Rose, is why you are so good at business."

"Because I golf?" she joked.

"No, though that helps, too. You're a man trapped in the body of a Victoria's
Secret model. It's a lethal combination."

Rose wasn't sure if she should be insulted or flattered. She decided to put the
focus back on Bella.

"You don't think Bella gets you?"

Emmett thought for a moment before he answered. "She doesn't understand why
success is so important to me, why I'm so driven to get to the top."

"Surely, she understands avarice," Rose teased.

"That she would understand, even if she didn't agree with it."

Rose didn't understand Bella any more than Bella understood Emmett, but that
didn't matter. Rose was extremely observant, and let Bella's actions speak for
themselves. They clearly indicated that Bella hated Rose with a passion. Though
the feeling was mutual, Rose did not like being placed in the middle of
Bella/Emmett drama. This was happening with increasing frequency, and Rose
wanted it to stop.

"You know Bella dislikes me. Continuously putting me in positions where I have to
lie to her doesn't exactly help the situation."

"I know, Rose. I'm sorry."

"A word of advice, Em. If you called her at noon and explained the situation,
apologized profusely, and had flowers sent to her office, she would been
disappointed but she would have understood."

He leaned back in his chair and rested a pen against his lips. "Does stuff like that
really make a difference?"

"If you're Bella, yes."

"Would it make a difference to you?"

"No. I mean, I would be annoyed if the guy I was dating blew me off. But if he
came home and blew me, I'd get over it fairly quickly."

Emmett's cock responded to Rose's statement before he could mentally formulate
a verbal reply. His mind went right to the gutter, and he was grateful when
seconds later, the other members of their team began filing into the conference
room.

It was time to get back to business.

Clearing his throat, Emmett adjusted himself under the table and addressed his
coworkers. "I hope you all tanked up on coffee, snorted your ritalin, smoked your
cigarettes and did whatever else it is you do when you need to stay awake.

Tonight's going to be a long one. No one goes home until the reports are
corrected. I refuse to be humiliated in front of our biggest client."

Eleven hours later, the crisis was averted. Rose went home to shower and
change. She opened the door quietly and tiptoed through her apartment, not
wanting to wake Edward if he was still sleeping. After spending all night working
on reports, Rose was completely exhausted and hoped more coffee would get her
awake enough to survive the day. She went to the kitchen to brew some,
surprised to find Edward standing at the counter pouring himself a cup.

"You know, darling, there's a difference between working late and staying out all
night."

She shrugged and pulled a mug from the cabinet. "It was unavoidable."

"In the future, I would appreciate it if you would tell me if you're not coming
home."

Rose placed the cup on the counter and crossed her arms. She was too tired to
deal with Edward hinting he was upset with her.

"What are you talking about? I called you four times, left three voice mails, and
sent you a text message. Don't give me any of your shit."

"You did?"

Rose nodded.

"I'm sorry." Edward was immediately contrite. "I wonder if something is wrong
with my Blackberry."

"Have it looked at today. You probably missed more calls than mine." She
stretched onto her toes and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before walking out
of the kitchen. "By the way, we managed to fix the software glitch. Thanks for
asking," she called as she headed into the bathroom.

On his way out the door, Edward picked up his briefcase and Blackberry. Sure
enough, Rose had called him multiple times while he was at Monk's with Bella.
His Blackberry had been in his pocket all evening. He wondered how he possibly
could have missed it vibrating, as he was such a slave to the tiny piece of black
plastic, he could sense incoming calls in his sleep. As he walked into the chilly
morning air, he realized Bella's simple presence had distracted him to such an
extent he was unable to notice anything but her.

He knew he was in trouble.

Chapter Four

To Live It Again Is Past All Endeavor

It had been a long day, and as Bella breezed past the doorman of her apartment
building, all she could think about was how much she wanted to soak it all away
in a hot bubble bath. As she rode the elevator to her floor, she took her phone
out of her pocket and reread Edward's text message—

I had a great time last night. Call me whenever you want.

It was polite and succinct, and she knew she should take it at face value. Still, as
she stared at it for the sixth time in as many hours, she wondered if there was
more to it than that. Had she received the same message from a man who was
not engaged to be married, she would have interpreted it as an expression of
romantic interest. The elevator doors opened and she hurried down the hall to
her apartment, expecting that she would spend the rest of the evening pondering
Edward's intentions.

What she didn't expect was to find Emmett leaning against the door to her
apartment, his arms full of orange roses. He gave her his trademark smile, a
facial expression which in the past could make her forget her own name. In this
instance, he was simply hoping she would forget she was angry with him. For the
first time ever, Emmett's smile failed him.

"Please move."

It wasn't the greeting he had hoped for, but it was a start.

"I'm sorry, Bella."

Bella could tell his apology was sincere and as she pressed her key into the lock,
her demeanor softened. Even so, Bella knew all too well that regret, even when
genuine, is meaningless without a determination to change.

"That's not enough anymore." She pushed the door open, and he followed her
inside her apartment. She took off her coat and shoes, going about her evening
routine as if Emmett weren't there. Undeterred by his chilly reception, he
continued to speak.

"I fucked up, and I know it. I'm not going to make excuses for myself, because
there is no excuse."

Emmett followed Bella into her kitchen. She flicked on the light before turning to
him, flailing her arms in frustration.

"Why are you even with me?"

"You know why." His voice was barely audible.

"I meant still." She turned away from him and leaned on the counter. "Why are
you with me still?"

"I love you," he answered automatically, before realizing that Bella was not
simply fishing for reassurance. "Wait, are you saying you have doubts?" He
placed the roses on the counter and nudged Bella to face him, but she continued
to stare at the floor. "Talk to me, Bella. Is it the hours I spend at work? I'm trying
to cut back...to delegate more. Everyone is just so fucking incompetent."

"Except Rose," she muttered dryly, still not meeting Emmett's gaze.

"Rose has been a godsend."

"I'm sure she has." Bella hit the side of her head with her hand, groaning in
frustration. For the next several moments, they stood in silence. Emmett
wondered what Bella was suggesting and wished she would just speak her mind.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Bella straightened her posture and raised her
now tear-filled eyes to meet his.

"How long have you been sleeping with her?"

"I'm not sleeping with Rose," he stated emphatically.

"But you would if you if she were available to you."

"I'm not going deny I find her attractive, Bella. But there is not presently, nor will
there ever be, anything going on between Rose and me." He searched through
his mind to find the words that would most reassure Bella. "She doesn't appeal to
me the way you do. She and I are too alike. If I wanted to have sex with
someone exactly like me, I'd just jerk off."

Bella let out a small laugh, but there was no humor behind it.

"Come here," he said quietly, pulling her into his arms.

She didn't resist, instead snaking her arms around his waist and resting her face
against his chest. Being in his arms felt so wonderful, she nearly forgot she was
angry with him and that she had legitimate reasons to wonder if in attempting to
work things out, they were doing nothing more than prolonging the inevitable.

"I don't want to be an obligation to you."

"You aren't." The immediacy of his words helped assure Bella of their sincerity.

Still, they were just words and even if Emmett did mean them, Bella needed
more than that. She stepped out of his embrace.

"I think we should take some time off and reevaluate our priorities."

Emmett took a step back and looked at her. "No, you think I should reevaluate
my priorities."

"That's not what I said."

"But isn't it what you meant?"

"No. I have some things to think about as well. Em, we're not married or even
living together. We haven't reproduced, so it's not like we have children to worry
about. If it's not working between us, there's nothing stopping us from cutting
our losses and getting out. As it is, I may as well be single. I feel like I'm alone
more frequently than anyone in a relationship should be, and even when we're
together..."

She shook her head, sighing. "Even when you're here, you're not really here. I
don't complain about the long hours and the constant attachment to your
BlackBerry because I don't feel I have a right to. You told me how it would be.
Before I even agreed to a first date, you warned me that your job would always
come first. Do you know how it feels to be sitting across a table from someone,
yet still feel completely alone?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?"

Bella couldn't believe he even had to ask. "No."

"No, I don't," he admitted.

"That doesn't surprise me," she said mostly to herself, shaking her head in
defeat. "I thought I could do this. I wanted to do this. But I just can't. I need
more."

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"Yes. No. I don't know." Bella rubbed her temples, then dropped her arms to her
sides. "At the very least, I think we should reevaluate our exclusivity."

"You want permission to sleep with other guys."

"No, Em," Bella spat back. "But if the opportunity presents itself, I'd like to be
able to enjoy guilt-free male company from time to time." In an attempt to calm
herself down, she took a few deep breaths. "Do you know what I did after you
stood me up last night?"

"I hope you went out and had fun."

"Oh, I did. And promptly felt like shit about it afterward."

Emmett looked at her perplexedly. He knew Bella detested infidelity, but she was
talking as if she were guilty.

"Did you..."

"No," she answered before he could even finish his question. "But considering I
see you once a week if I'm lucky, I shouldn't feel as though I have to decline
other invitations. And if I do accept, I should not feel as though I've betrayed you
by doing so."

Emmett knew Bella wasn't being at all unreasonable, which only increased the
sting of her request. Determined not to lose her, he devised a plan.

"You're welcome to see whomever you like, but I don't anticipate that you'll have
much free time with which to do so. I plan on keeping you very busy, starting
right now. I meant it when I said I would do everything I could to make last night
up to you. I can't get us into Le Bec Fin on this short notice, but I'm sure there's
a table open somewhere."

She looked at him with rage, and he realized his mistake.

"Of course, that's only if you want to spend time with me. You're upset, and
justifiably so. I'm willing to do whatever you want—go out, stay in, leave..."

She folded her arms across her chest. "I think you should leave."

"Okay." It was just as well. He needed to go back to the office and take care of a
few things. If Bella was going to be his first priority henceforth, he needed to take
advantage of every second he wasn't with her.

Despite her obvious anger, he kissed her cheek before heading toward the door.
He was about to let himself out when he realized his gaffe. There were many
things that he knew, things that he understood completely and accepted as true.
Still, in moments of insecurity, it helped to be reminded.

He turned around and looked across the living room to where Bella stood in her
tiny galley kitchen. As his mind played a montage of the weekend they met, he
no longer struggled to find the words with which to convey exactly why he
wanted to be with her, why it was with her and only her he envisioned building a
future.

"You're the most inherently good person I've ever known. You do what you
believe is right, regardless of the consequences you might face for doing so.
You're selfless and beautiful, inside and out." He opened the door and stepped

over the threshold, addressing Bella a final time before he left. "That's why I'm
with you, and that's why I love you."

Before Bella could formulate a response, he was gone.

After she heard the click of the lock, Bella relaxed her posture, giving in to her
fatigue from an emotionally trying twenty-four hours. As she placed the roses in
water, she replayed Emmett's words in her head. If he meant what he said, if he
really was going to try, things would be perfect. She would no longer physically
react to a simple text message from Edward, because her needs would be met by
Emmett, the man she loved and hoped for a future with. Between her career and
her relationship, she would be fulfilled. Bella chanted this mantra in her head until
consciousness left her, hoping she could convince herself it was true.

She failed and dreamt of Edward.

Chapter Five

If Some Night You Are Free, Then It's All Right with Me

"Is Emmett working on Saturday yet again?"

The bluntness of Alice's statement didn't surprise Bella. Over the past few
months, she'd gotten quite used to it. There were many words that sprang to
Bella's mind when she thought of Alice's considerable positive attributes. Subtlety
appeared nowhere on the list.

Bella didn't mind. She found Alice's ability to be forthright refreshing, especially
when compared to the rest of her female friends—well, her former female friends.
Still, Bella met Alice through Emmett, and despite Alice's assurances to the
contrary, she didn't feel it was appropriate to badmouth him to one of their
mutual friends.

"Probably," Bella replied, sipping her latté.

Alice shook her head and pushed a lock of her angular bob behind her ear. Bella
had known Alice for almost as long as she'd known Emmett, and there were still
times when she was stunned by Alice's beauty. Like most people of mixed
ancestry, Alice had inherited the best features of her Thai mother and English
father. The results were striking. She had her mother's stature, hair and
complexion, and her father's light eyes. If Alice weren't under five feet tall, Bella
was certain she could have been a supermodel.

"I don't know how you put up with his work schedule."

Alice's voice startled Bella, who was slightly embarrassed that she was gawking
at her friend.

"Well, in all fairness to him, this morning he called and asked if I wanted to go
away with him for the weekend, and I declined."

"What? You've been saying you wanted time alone with him for weeks."

"I know. And I would have been delighted, if he weren't offering simply because I
told him I wanted to see other people last night."

"Whoa. Back up a second. What?"

"It's a long story."

"I don't care. Start at the beginning."

"I don't want to put you in the middle..." Bella stopped speaking when she
noticed Edward walking toward their table, coffee in hand.

"Fancy meeting you here," he said, smiling broadly. "Mind if I join you?"

Bella wanted very much for Edward to sit down with them. Her only reservation
was that she'd never be able to hide her attraction to him from Alice, whose
observation skills were legendary.

"Not at all." Alice answered Edward before Bella could even mentally process his
request. "I'm Alice, by the way."

"Edward," he said, shaking Alice's hand before taking the seat next to Bella.

Despite the fact he was not touching her, Bella's entire body was acutely aware of
his presence.

"I'm sorry," Bella stammered, realizing she had been too shocked and
preoccupied by Edward's presence to remember that he and Alice did not know
each other. "Apparently, this..." She held up her cup. "...hasn't kicked in yet.
What are you even doing on this side of town?"

"I just finished up at the Sporting Club."

Alice snorted. "You work out at the Sporting Club?"

"You say that as if it's a bad thing," he said.

"It's where the wealthy get healthy," Bella teased.

"They have wonderful amenities, and I play a lot of squash."

Bella and Alice continued laughing, much to Edward's consternation.

"Is it that much of a cliché?" he asked finally.

"I don't know. You tell me." There was a hint of challenge in Alice's voice. She
pushed up her sleeves and leaned toward Edward. "Where are you from?"

"Princeton."

Like a weapon of mass interrogation, Alice continued to fire questions.

"Where did you go to high school?"

"Lawrenceville."

"Undergrad?"

"Cornell."

"Your major?"

"Civil engineering."

"Where did you earn your professional degree?"

"Which one?" he smirked, resting his elbows on the table.

"Any and all."

"My master's is also from Cornell, and my JD is from Penn."

"And your trust fund? Never mind, you don't have to answer that one. Yes, you
are that much of a cliché."

Though slightly embarrassed by Alice's grilling of Edward, Bella couldn't help but
be impressed. She'd managed to find out more about Edward in three minutes
than Bella had during the three hours she'd spent with him the night before last.

"That being said," Alice continued, "I should get going, or I'll be late for lunch
with my mother. Nice meeting you," she said to Edward before standing up and
turning to Bella. "You're not off the hook. I'll call you later, and I want to hear all
about it. Bye." She popped in her earbuds and vanished in a cloud of Coco
Mademoiselle.

Bella assumed that Edward would move to the seat Alice had just vacated, so he
would be sitting across from her rather than beside her, but he made no motion
to relocate. Instead, he angled his body so he could have a better view of Bella
without increasing the distance between them.

"Not off the hook from what?" he asked.

"Emmett and I had a bit of falling out, and Alice wants all the details."

"And you don't want to talk about it?"

"Not exactly." Bella fidgeted with the plastic lid of her cup. "It would be good to
discuss it with someone, but not Alice. She's a mutual friend of mine and
Emmett's, but she was his friend first, and it feels wrong to put her in the middle,
despite how much I'd love to have an unbiased third-party opinion. At the same
time, I don't really have anyone else with whom I could talk about it."

"Alice is your only friend?"

"With the exception of Emmett and a handful of work acquaintances that I'd
prefer didn't know my business, yes."

Edward had a hard time wrapping his mind around this detail. "Are you a
workaholic, too?

"No. My friends and I had a bit of a falling out about six months ago."

The significance of the timing did not escape him. "Over Emmett?"

"Not over Emmett, but he was involved."

"Are you being intentionally cryptic?"

"No, I just can't imagine you want to hear to my sob story."

"That couldn't be further from the truth. There's nothing I wouldn't enjoy knowing
about you." Edward rested his hand on top of Bella's, and she felt a flutter
between her legs. Her mind played images of what it meant to be known to

someone, with Edward doing the exploration. Bella's breath caught in her throat
and she felt a bit flushed, yet she kept her hand completely still beneath his lest
an unintended motion give him the erroneous impression that she didn't want
him to touch her.

"Oh, I could think of a few things."

"I'll make a deal with you then," he said. "You start talking, and if we enter the
TMI zone, I'll let you know."

"Okay." Bella let out a long sigh, wondering where to start. "My friend Maria was
supposed to get married, and I was one of her bridesmaids. She'd cheated on her
fiancé, Jasper, on a few different occasions in the months leading up to the
wedding, but swore up and down that it was just because he was deployed and
away for so many months and she needed some kind of physical release."

"Where was he stationed?"

"Afghanistan. Anyway, the night of the rehearsal dinner, I showed up at her hotel
room to help her get ready, and I caught her and some random guy in the act. I
told her she had to tell Jasper or call off the wedding. She agreed, and said she'd
talk to Jasper later that night. A few hours after the dinner ended, she called me
and claimed she'd told him everything, and he still wanted to go through with it.

"Something about it just didn't sit right with me. I pulled up the email she'd sent
with wedding party contact info and called Jasper's best man. Really, I just
wanted to know how Jasper was holding up after talking to Maria. He explained to
me that Jasper hadn't spoken to Maria since the rehearsal dinner, and that all of
the groomsmen were out at a bar. I just couldn't let Jasper go through with the
wedding without all of the information. I mean, if it had been me, I would want to
know. So I told his best friend what I'd witnessed that morning. He thanked me,
and then expressed concern that I would lose one of my best friends over this. I
told him that doing the right thing was more important. Anyway, that's when my
girlfriends from college stopped speaking to me and how I met Emmett."

"Emmett?" he asked.

"Yes. He was Jasper's best man. Jasper called off the wedding, and a week later
Emmett asked me out."

"What happened to Jasper?"

"Remember Alice?"

He nodded.

"She's his new girlfriend."

Edward stared down at Bella and squeezed her hand. He'd never met another
person so willing to put herself on the line to spare a virtual stranger pain. It was
both an attribute and a flaw, and he wondered how frequently her need to do
what she perceived was right eclipsed her sense of self-preservation. Before this
morning, he wanted to know her and (as much as it pained him to admit it) touch
her. Now he found himself also wanting to protect her—at any cost to him—the
way she'd protected Jasper. Moreover, it infuriated him that Emmett obviously
didn't feel the same way.

"See?" He smiled at her in an attempt to lighten the mood. "It all worked out.
Everyone got what they deserved."

"Except six months later, none of my girlfriends are speaking to me."

"No offense, but it doesn't seem like much of a loss."

"As awful as it sounds, I miss them only at times like this. Alice shouldn't have to
listen to me whine about one of her closest friends. It's not fair to her."

"Whine to me."

Bella shook her head. "I couldn't do that."

"Why not?"

"Well..." Bella squirmed in her seat. "You're a guy, for starters."

"Wait, so the fact I have a cock disqualifies me from being your confidante?"

Bella had been having a hard enough time not thinking of Edward's equipment
before he brought it into their conversation. Now that he had, she was having
difficulty focusing on anything else. Her eyes fell to his crotch, and she found
herself wondering if underneath his jeans he wore boxers or briefs, and if the
simple feeling of his hand on hers had his body reacting in the same way hers
was. She continued staring at his fly like a diabetic kid in a candy store, wanting
to taste it all but knowing it could never be hers.

"I'll tell you what," he said. "Come have lunch with me. You can talk about it or
not talk about it; it's up to you."

"Won't Rose miss you?"

"No, she's at work."

"Okay."

"How about Italian?" He stood up, lifting his hand from hers in the process. Even
though she knew she'd be spending the afternoon with him, she still instantly
missed his touch. "There's this great place in Society Hill."

"Sounds perfect." She tossed her empty cup into the trash can and followed
Edward up the escalator to street level.

They stepped out into the brisk fall air, and Edward got a taxi. He spent the entire
duration of the ride fighting the urge to rest his hand on her thigh, sadly grateful
that if he couldn't be her lover he could be something she appeared to need
more—her friend. It would have to be enough.

Chapter Six

Down in the Depths of the Ninetieth Floor

"This place is fabulous," Bella said, looking at the exposed brick around her. "I
can't believe I've never been here before."

"Best Caesar salad in town, and they prepare it tableside."

"Well, I know what I'll start with." Bella smiled at Edward before looking back at
her menu. They were just friends having lunch, and she shouldn't feel as if she

were on a date, but she did. Determined to remind herself that he was not
available, Bella changed the subject. "So, how did you meet Rose?"

Edward shifted in his seat. He wasn't comfortable discussing Rose with Bella,
though he wasn't entirely sure why. Bella already knew that he had made a
commitment to Rose. Bella had witnessed Edward kiss Rose hello and goodbye,
and she'd seen the diamond on the fourth finger of Rose's left hand. Yet he found
himself wanting to keep that part of his life completely separate from Bella, much
the same way Rose compartmentalized her career from her personal life—as
something Rose needed as an individual to feel fulfilled. Edward found himself
internally justifying his burgeoning friendship with Bella to his better judgment as
something he needed, independent of his betrothed, not to feel fulfilled, but to
feel alive. He attributed this solely to Bella and her quick wit, her profound sense
of decency and her amusing quirks. Edward never once considered even for a
moment Bella represented to him everything he ever wanted that he did not
currently have. For that reason alone, he answered Bella's question.

"In undergrad. We dated most of senior year, then parted amicably after
graduation. I was staying in Ithaca for my master's, and she had a job lined up in
New York City. We kept tabs on each other through mutual friends, until she
relocated to Philadelphia. Once she was settled, she called me and as strange as
it seems, we sort of picked up where we left off."

"And you were still compatible?" Bella was amazed. She'd had acquaintances who
had married their college sweethearts, some of whom were still quite happy.
Those relationships succeeded or failed based upon the couple's ability to grow
together as individuals. Those who had grown apart (or not at all) didn't fare so
well.

"Yes." Edward faked a laugh. "You seem surprised."

"I am, a little," she admitted, "but not in a bad way. I've just never known
anyone to do that successfully. You two must be meant for one another."

"I suppose. I've never much bought in to the idea that there's a single person for
each of us, and if one is lucky enough to find that person, the relationship
automatically works. I think we choose our paths, in life and in love."

Bella put her elbow on the table and rested her chin in the palm of hand. "What if
the path we want isn't available to us? Do we settle?"

"Is that a rhetorical question?"

"No."

Edward ran a hand through his hair, not liking at all the direction the
conversation had taken. "It isn't settling unless it's a conscious decision."

Bella noticed the shift in his demeanor. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to suggest you
were settling. Rose is beautiful and intelligent. She's hardly a consolation prize. I
was asking more because of my own relationship..."

"Do you think you're settling?"

"I think I would be if I'd let things with Emmett continue the way they were
going. I have to wonder if he loves me the way he claims he does, because I feel
if that were actually the case, I would see him for more than a few hours a week.
Alice has a theory about commitment. She claims women become ready to settle
down when they find the one, but the psychological process is completely

different for men. Once a man decides he's tired of being alone, the next
remotely suitable candidate he dates becomes the one. It's completely
unromantic, but it does explain some of life's greater mysteries."

Edward considered Alice's theory in terms of his own life, and decided he didn't
think it was applicable. When Rose resigned from her job to complete her MBA,
taking their relationship to the next level just made sense. She was spending a
few nights per week with him anyway; it made no sense for her to blow through
savings on rent. After they'd lived together for two years, the next logical step
was to offer her his name and a ring. He didn't want to be one of those guys—the
kind that would string a woman along indefinitely without ever making a
permanent commitment. Edward had established in his career and his life, and
there was no reason to wait.

"Rose isn't simply a means to end for me." It came out much more abruptly than
he would have liked.

"I wasn't suggesting she was. I'm not sure I agree with Alice enough to simplify it
to the extent that she has, but she presents a decent enough argument that it's
hard to completely discount it. Take Emmett and me, for example. If he were
truly as in love with me as he claims he is, I wouldn't be a perpetual second fiddle
to his job. Yet when I told him I wanted to see other people last night, he was so
resistant to the idea. I'm good for him on paper."

"You're good, Bella. Period."

And now Bella was also romantically available. Edward's mind began going all
sorts of places it had no place going, until he reminded himself that even if Bella
was free, he was not.

"Anyway, I'm certain Emmett cares about you a great deal," Edward said
automatically. Truth be told, he hadn't put much thought into Emmett's feelings
for Bella. He just couldn't imagine that it would be possible for any man to be
with Bella romantically (and sexually) for six months and not fall in love with her.
As it was, Edward had known Bella fewer than six days and was still irrationally
drawn to her.

"I don't doubt that he does. At the same time, I don't believe for a second that he
is crazy in love with me."

"Are you crazy in love with him?" he asked.

The waitress arrived to take their orders, and Bella found herself grateful for the
reprieve. It wasn't that she felt uncomfortable talking about personal matters
with Edward. Though the fact Bella was so attracted to Edward complicated
matters somewhat, she felt she could discuss anything with him. She just wasn't
sure she knew the answer to his question, and was all too happy to change the
subject.

"It looks like the Phils are going to win the pennant after all."

From that moment on, their conversation neither lulled nor returned to their
significant others.

Over the next several weeks, Emmett kept his word. He was much more attentive
when it came to Bella, and though he did cancel dates from time to time, he was
much more considerate about doing so.

Emmett and Bella had not discussed their status since she told him she wanted to
see other people, therefore as far as she was concerned, she was free to see
whomever she wanted. It just happened that the person she wanted most of all
was not free to see her. Yet Bella did see Edward—a few times each week. They
went to coffee shops and happy hours. They sat on park benches and in movie
theaters. They were careful never to be alone together, yet there was rarely
anyone with them.

Emmett was completely aware of the growing closeness between Bella and
Edward, even if he wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it. On one hand, Edward
was not competition. He was, after all, engaged to the woman whom Emmett
considered to be the personification of idealized feminine beauty. Still, Bella
reacted to the mere mention of Edward's name with an excited interest he'd
never witnessed her exhibit for any other person. Though Emmett realized that
Edward was not actually a threat to his relationship with Bella, he didn't believe
Edward's motives were pure.

Emmett was having this exact thought as he brought the most recent market
data reports to Rose's office one evening in late November. He sat in one of the
chairs opposite her desk as she completed her phone call with Edward, very
surprised at what he heard.

"I probably won't be home by then." She held up her index finger and smiled at
Emmett, indicating she was just about finished with her phone call. She mouthed
"Edward" and rolled her eyes, opening and closing the palm of her hand as if it
were a mouth, indicating she'd been trying to get off the phone with him for a
while now, but had been unable to do so because he wouldn't stop talking.

"No, I think it would be nice if you invited Bella. Emmett will likely be putting in
some very long days between now and the end of the year as well; I imagine
she'll start to get lonely, being that we're headed into the holidays and all."

Emmett was careful not to react visually to Rose's obvious encouragement of
Edward's friendship with Bella, but he was dying to ask her about it.

"No, that's okay. Look, I'm keeping other people waiting. I'll see you at home.
Bye."

Rose hung up the phone and sighed. "I'm sorry. When he doesn't see me at
night, he feels compelled to talk at me every chance he gets. It gets more than a
little annoying after a while."

"I was trying not to listen..." Emmett began.

"But of course you did anyway," she interjected, flashing Emmett a knowing
smile.

"Well, yeah." Emmett handed the reports to Rose, but had no intention of
discussing them yet. "I wasn't aware you encouraged your fiancé to spend time
alone with my girlfriend."

"Only when it suits my purpose. Why? Does it bother you?"

Emmett folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair. "I suppose
that depends on what your purpose is."

"Nothing nefarious. Edward can be a whiny bitch when he's alone. The time he
spends with Bella more or less gets me off the hook."

"What are you doing with him, anyway?"

Emmett had wanted to ask Rose that very question for roughly two years now.

"Excuse me?" Rose blinked, and looked at Emmett with what was meant to be
genuine surprise. She was not, however, a decent enough actress to fool
someone who knew her as well as Emmett did.

"Drop the righteous indignation. Would you care for a survey of some of the
words you've used to describe your beloved?"

Rose didn't respond.

"I'll take that as a yes," he continued. "A bit of a pussy. Whiny. Clingy. Incapable
of amusing himself. Stifling—and those were just in the past two days. You don't
hear me describing Bella that way."

She rolled her eyes. "No, you just hide from her when you're not in the most
patient of moods."

"Like most couples, we have communication issues." Emmett shrugged. "You and
Edward, however, seem completely incompatible."

"Well, we've been together for five years. I no longer have any illusions about his
faults, and his idiosyncrasies that I once found appealing now make me insane. I
can't really blame him, though. It's the nature of the cohabitation beast. You'd
have some empathy if your relationship modus operandi wasn't short-term serial
monogamy."

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"Fine, I'll spell it out for you. Of all of your love interests, past and present, which
relationship lasted the longest?"

"The one I have with Bella."

"Exactly. And you've been together all of seven months. Do you know what that
says about you?"

Emmett laughed. "No, but I have a sneaking suspicion you're about to enlighten
me."

"It says you like the perks that go along with exclusivity, but you also like to bow
out before the honeymoon stage is over. You don't like it when relationships
become comfortable enough that your partner no longer feels compelled to be on
all the time, and you haven't found someone you care about enough to want
something deeper."

"Until now."

Emmett wasn't talking about Bella, but of course, Rose didn't realize this. It didn't
matter anyway. Not only was Rose engaged, she was his direct report. Company
policy expressly forbade fraternization between executives and their
subordinates, rendering void his growing affection for Rose.

"Time will tell."

"Indeed," he said dryly. "Meanwhile, you still haven't answered my question. As
the nature of your constant complaints about him seems to indicate, Edward isn't

strong enough for you, nor does he sufficiently challenge you. Why are you still
with him?"

Rose averted her eyes for a moment as she thought about his question.

"Honestly?" she asked.

"Of course."

"The sex is pretty fucking amazing."

Emmett rested his elbows on Rose's desk and leaned toward her, engaging his
mouth before his brain could give input.

"I'm better."

Rose was half-tempted to ask him to prove it.

Chapter Seven

If Back Stairs You Like

"My, aren't we..." Rose trailed her eyes down Emmett's chest. As they lingered on
his crotch, she brought her pen to her mouth and rested it against her lower lip.
"...cocky."

Emmett shrugged. "If the Magnums fit."

"Such a shame we have a job to do." Rose's disappointment was genuine, even if
her regret was not.

Emmett knew she was referring to the market reports, but his mind began to
comprise a list of actionable items he could add to Rose's job description—blow
jobs, hand jobs, box jobs, lap jobs, tit jobs, foot jobs, ass jobs and rim jobs. He
was more than a little surprised when it occurred to him that the last five items
were acts he and Bella had yet to introduce into their repertoire, and wondered
briefly if they were things Bella would enjoy. Eventually, he decided Bella's
feelings on them were a moot point. Emmett would never ask a woman like Bella
to indulge him in some of his more perverse longings. She was far too good, too
pure, for that. He wouldn't dream of degrading her that way.

Rose, on the other hand, seemed to scream sexual deviance. Emmett was certain
if he ever shot his load on to Rose's face, not only would she not mind, she'd beg
for more. He knew this, because Rose's personality was identical to his. She'd try
anything and everything and probably enjoy it. If Bella was Audrey Hepburn,
Rose was Madonna. It made Emmett wonder more than a little about Edward. He
never questioned why Edward put a ring on Rose's finger. Rose had men falling
all over her constantly and if Emmett were in Edward's position, he'd want to seal
the deal as well. Still, Emmett was baffled by Rose's relationship with Edward. It
was obvious Rose was the one wearing the pants, so to speak. Moreover, it
wouldn't surprise Emmett at all if they were skintight and made of black leather,
and Rose had a matching riding crop.

"So, the sex with clingy Eddie is good," he repeated, more to himself than to her.

Rose continued paging through the reports in her hand. "Yes. He's a pianist, you
know. He has amazing fingers."

"I'm sure he does have amazing fingers." Emmett's tone was mocking. "He
probably takes his time and makes slow, sweet love to you."

"You say that as if it's a bad thing."

"It is a bad thing, and it's precisely why I can't imagine you're getting what you
want from him."

"And what exactly do you think I want?" she asked without looking up.

"To be swept up, thrown down and fucked hard."

Rose kept her eyes on the papers in her hands, carefully concealing exactly how
intrigued she was by his statement. Emmett had more or less nailed what Rose
felt was missing from her relationship. Consequently, Rose started wondering
what it would be like to nail Emmett. Her body reacted involuntarily to the images
in her head, and that made her more than a little uncomfortable.

The confirmation that Emmett wanted to fuck Rose was no surprise in and of
itself. After all, men usually wanted to fuck Rose. When Rose had begun to expect
this, it was more representative of her realism than her conceit. The fact Emmett
was technically her boss notwithstanding, if Rose were to be completely honest
with herself, she had to admit they'd done nothing but flirt with each other since
the moment they met. Though his lust for her was far from unrequited, Rose has
no intention of letting Emmett know this.

The stakes were higher for her. She knew if she permitted this conversation to
continue, she ran the risk of losing everything—her reputation, her job, her
fiancé. When she met Emmett's gaze, her resolve was unwavering and all
inappropriate thoughts had left her mind.

"Yes, but we can't always get what we want, can we?"

Emmett stood up and moved toward the door.

"When you've had a chance to go through those, call me and we'll discuss."

"Yes, boss," Rose answered automatically, grateful temptation was walking away
from her.

Emmett was just about out of her office when he stopped and turned on his heel.
"Oh, and Rose?"

"Yes?"

"I always get what I want."

He drummed his fingers against the door frame before heading back to his office.
He wasn't sure what had just transpired between Rose and him, but he knew a
line had been crossed. Though he was ecstatic his attraction to her was
apparently mutual, he knew that an affair with an engaged direct report would be
a definite career-limiting move. Furthermore, Rose had given him no indication
that her feelings went beyond simple concupiscence. If he and Rose were to
succumb to their baser desires, he stood to lose far more than she did—his job,
his girlfriend, his integrity—all in vain. If Rose had no actual feelings for him,

she'd return to Edward, who would assuredly take her back. As much as his cock
wanted it, it was just too risky.

He sat at his desk and did what he usually did after thinking inappropriate
thoughts about Rose—he called Bella. She picked up immediately, but he could
tell from the background noise that she was out.

"Hello, beautiful," he greeted her.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

It bothered him that she still assumed something was wrong if he called her from
work. Though there was a time in their relationship he would have deserved that,
since Bella had told him she wanted to see other people, he had been very good
about calling her a few times each day.

"Everything is fine. I just miss you."

"Then you should come see me on your way home from work."

He knew exactly what she was suggesting, and it was just what he needed in
order to forget about his exchange with Rose.

"When will you be home?" he asked.

"Oh, I can be home in five minutes. I'm just at Good Dog with Edward."

Unlike Rose, Emmett was not as comfortable with Bella spending all her free time
with Edward. He acknowledged that this had very little to do with Bella and
everything to do with Edward. Emmett was fully aware that Bella had a bit of a
crush on Rose's fiancé. The way Bella smiled at Edward told Emmett everything
he needed to know. It wasn't all that long ago Bella looked at Emmett the same
way. He knew that because he'd told Bella she could see other people, he
shouldn't be jealous. Of course, he didn't let that stop him.

"Give me a few minutes to finish up here, and I'll meet you at Good Dog."

"Wow." Bella's surprise was palpable, even over the phone. "Okay. See you in a
bit."

Half an hour later, Emmett found Bella and Edward in a booth across from the
bar. Emmett slid right in next to Bella, kissing her on the lips and squeezing her
thigh. It was not like Emmett to be so physically demonstrative with her in public,
but Bella craved passion so desperately she neither questioned Emmett's motives
nor noticed the pained look on Edward's face as she returned Emmett's kiss. Bella
and Emmett left shortly after his arrival, but Edward lingered for a few minutes
and thought about what had just transpired.

Edward knew Emmett's appearance at the bar was not to see Bella as much as it
was to stake his claim on her. Edward also knew it wasn't in Emmett's nature to
be overly possessive, so his presence that evening could only mean one thing—
Emmett perceived Edward as a threat. Having received confirmation that his
feelings for Bella were mutual, Edward couldn't contain his excitement, even if he
had no idea what his next step (if any) would be.

Emmett and Bella made the short walk to her apartment in record time. The
moment they were inside, he pressed her against the door, putting all of the
afternoon's sexual frustration into a single kiss. Without removing his lips from
Bella's, he pulled at her clothing almost frantically. It wasn't long before she
stood before him, naked except for her panties. He scooped her into his arms and

carried her the short distance to the sofa, placing her on her feet behind it. He
pulled her panties down to her knees and bent her over the back of the sofa,
entering her the second his cock was freed from his pants. She was hot and tight
around him, and though he knew he should get her off before he came, he
couldn't find the will to postpone his climax for the benefit of hers—he'd have
plenty of time to make her orgasm later. He came hard and suddenly, grunting in
to Bella's ear as his hands squeezed her tits. He withdrew before helping her
stand, carefully turning her to face him.

Bella's hair was everywhere, and her make-up was smudged all over her face.
Her skin was red, presumably from the combined effort of his five o'clock shadow
and his haste to fuck Rose out of his mind. He felt like a complete asshole.

"I'm sorry," he said, gently touching her cheek.

"For what?"

"I was rough, and you deserve better than that from me."

Bella couldn't believe what she was hearing. Though Emmett had been a little
forceful, Bella loved every second of it. She found his abandon to be a huge turn-
on, and wished he'd let this side of himself out more often.

"Did you hear me complaining?" she asked.

"No, but..."

She cupped his face in hands. "You aren't going to break me. I like passion and
getting swept up in the moment. My only complaint is that we don't do this more
often."

"Bella, I bent you over a sofa and fucked the shit out of you. That's how men
treat whores and one-night stands." And Rose, he added silently. "No decent man
would do that to his girlfriend."

"He should if she likes it that way. You never know unless you try." Bella gave
him a quick peck on the lips, then began gathering up her clothing.

Emmett thought about Bella's words as he pulled his pants up and refastened his
belt. He didn't believe for a second Bella was in to rough sex, nor did he think
she'd willingly participate in some of his more esoteric fetishes. She was the kind
of woman men married, not the kind they tied to the bed, ball gagged and fucked
up the ass. That sort of behavior was reserved for women like Rose. He had the
sudden mental image of Rose, naked except for a pair of stilettos, bent at the
waist and sucking his cock and wondered how he would ever be able to work
beside her and not behave inappropriately.

Across town, Edward came home to an empty apartment. As he undressed and
got into bed, it occurred to him just home how much he enjoyed having the place
to himself. Obviously, he liked it when Rose was home, but he didn't miss her on
the nights she worked late. He wondered what that said about his relationship
with Rose—if it indicated an increased level of comfort or a waning of affection.
He didn't think about it for too long, though. Sleep claimed him mere seconds
after he closed his eyes.

He opened them a few hours later to find Rose naked and on top of him, rubbing
her breasts against his chest.

"Not now," he said.

"Oh, but why not?" Rose pursed her lip in her trademark exaggerated pout that
was meant to be sexy.

As far as Edward was concerned, it was anything but.

"I need sleep, Rose. If you wanted to make love tonight, you should have come
home before three a.m."

"Who said anything about making love?" Rose sat up, pinching her nipples as she
ground her hips into his. "I want to fuck," she added in a whisper.

"And I want to sleep."

"Okay, fine," she whined, rolling off him. "You can have your precious sleep, and
I'll take care of things myself."

Edward was exhausted enough that neither the quiet hum of Rose's vibrator nor
the melodramatic cacophony of her moans could keep him awake.

Chapter Eight

If Love Affairs You Like

Much to Emmett's surprise, he and Rose did manage to keep things strictly
professional over the next few weeks. This was aided greatly by the fact he made
a point never to be alone with her after hours, and he avoided any social outings
that would involve alcohol until the night of the company Christmas party. As he
rode the elevator to Bella's apartment, he reminded himself that despite the fact
the party was black tie, open bar, and being held at the Bellevue, it might as well
be a work day. Too many important people would be in attendance for him to
view the evening any other way.

He explained this to Bella as the town car turned onto Broad Street.

"Don't worry." She laughed humorlessly. "I won't embarrass you."

"Oh, Bella baby, no." He squeezed her hand. "That's not what I mean. I just want
you to understand that this is an obligation more than anything else, and that I
will be required to make the rounds. As much as I wish I could spend all evening
dancing and flirting with you, it probably won't happen."

"I expected as much. It's okay. I'm more than capable of amusing myself.
Besides, I'm sure Edward will keep me company while you and Rose do your
thing."

Emmett decided to ignore Bella's comment about Edward, as he was certain she
did not mean it maliciously. He leaned into Bella and kissed her quickly on the
lips. "I don't deserve you."

After their car pulled up in front of the hotel, Emmett carefully helped Bella out of
the back seat. She stood by his side with perfect posture, dutifully playing the
role of over-educated arm candy. When the smile painted on her face began to

hurt, she tugged on his sleeve and whispered that she needed a cigarette. He
nodded and she took her leave, grateful to have a few moments to relax her
shoulders and her facial muscles.

Edward watched her make her way to the stairs, and after a suitable break in his
conversation with one of Rose's colleagues, followed Bella outside. For several
moments, he stood inside the glass doors and stared at the vision before him.
Bella's dark hair was piled on top of her head in loose curls that fell in tendrils
onto her shoulders, and her make-up could only be described as sultry. The
midnight blue silk of her dress floated around her body in a sudden burst of cold
winter air, and she pulled her black pashmina more tightly around her shoulders.

Edward was selfish enough to want to pull the cashmere wrap from her shoulders
so he could see what was beneath it up close, knowing the bodice of her gown
was both tight and low-cut. As he walked through the door and began to close
the distance between them, he saw her lower lip quiver. Her shivering ignited his
chivalry, forcing the lasciviousness that was previously at the forefront of his
mind to simmer beneath the surface. He removed his tuxedo jacket and placed it
over her shoulders, eliciting from Bella a smile that was genuine even as she
maintained her ruse.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Are you following me?" she teased.

"Hardly. I just wanted to check up on you, and when I couldn't find you inside, it
occurred to me you might be out here wasting perfectly good carcinogens," he
explained with a smirk.

Bella may have been fake-smoking, but her laughter was real. "Am I that
predictable?"

"Actually, I'm kind of surprised. Given the presence of so many of their clients, I
would think Emmett and his team would be on their best behavior."

"Oh, they are." Bella flicked the ash off the end of her cigarette. "It just
gets...stifling after a while. I don't do well having to be on all the time, if that
makes sense. I can stand there smiling and nodding; I can even laugh at
appropriate moments and make polite conversation with other wives and
girlfriends. I know my sole purpose for being here is to help Emmett schmooze,
but it's not something that's a part of my natural skill set. It's exhausting, and I
wanted a moment to be myself."

"Then you should actually be yourself."

"That's what I'm doing," she insisted.

"Then why do I get the feeling you're fighting every natural instinct you have?"
Edward took the cigarette out of her hand and deposited it in the smokers'
outpost. "No one can see us out here, there's no need to pretend."

Bella wanted to contradict him. Indeed, the person whose opinion mattered to
her most of all could see her; he was looking right at her. Furthermore, Bella
doubted Edward wanted her to succumb to the natural instincts she had in his
presence, which at the moment were telling her to touch his hair and press her
body against his. Fake-smoking was the least of her deceptions.

"You make it sound as if you've never maintained a charade because it made
other aspects of your life easier for you."

"I haven't," he insisted.

"Right. I find that hard to believe."

Edward thought about what Bella was suggesting. The only ruse in which he'd
participated lately was the one in which he pretended he wasn't developing
romantic feelings for Bella. If the Herculean effort it took him to resist touching
her was any indication, his deception did nothing to make things easier for him.
Quite the contrary—he could think of one thing that was getting harder by the
minute.

"It's true," he insisted. "You on the other hand...well, I have a hard time believing
smoking is the only thing you fake."

"Try me."

"We'll start with the basics." A loose tendril of her hair drew his focus, and he
decided where he wanted to begin. "Your hair color?"

"Real," she confirmed.

He'd suspected as much. "Ah. The drapes match the carpet."

"Just so you know, there is no carpet."

"Really?" Edward asked, his interest more than a little piqued. He'd spent more
time than he cared to acknowledge picturing the junction of Bella's thighs. This
tidbit of information could prove quite helpful in ensuring the accuracy of his
wank fantasies.

Bella's sheepish smile answered his question.

"Wow," he muttered. "Wait, where was I?'

"You're easily distracted. Have you ever spoken to your health care provider
about the possibility you have ADD? This isn't the first time you've been unable to
follow a simple conversation."

Edward snorted. "Right. Never mind the fact you're being a huge tease is
distracting to me. So, the hair color is real." His eyes trailed from her face to the
lapels of his jacket, which Bella was holding together over her chest. Still staring
at where her breasts would be if they weren't concealed by his jacket, he raised
an eyebrow.

"Stop it." She rolled her eyes. "They're real, too."

"Thank you, Jesus." Edward folded his hands as if he was in prayer, and Bella
smacked him lightly on him shoulder.

"You can be such a douche."

"Ouch," he whined, pretending to wince in pain.

Bella smacked him again. "You have a fiancée, you know. Go speculate on the
silicone content of her breasts."

"Well, you see, I wouldn't have to speculate on that, would I? I know she's
been..." Edward pretended to cough. "...surgically enhanced."

Bella was dumbfounded. "No way."

"Way. She had them done between undergrad and B school. We weren't together
at the time, so I don't feel as though I have a right to complain, but I kind of
liked them better before."

When Edward realized he was discussing Rose's tits with Bella, he felt bad, but
not for the reasons he should have. He didn't care that he'd just revealed
something personal about Rose, even though he was completely aware he had no
right to do so. He was more upset by the precious time he'd wasted doing so,
which he could have used to discover more about Bella. He returned to his list.

"The sex kitten lip bite?"

"Real. It's a bad habit I've had my whole life. I do it whenever I'm nervous or
feeling too exposed." She looked at him perplexedly. "You actually think it's
sexy?"

"Very much so." Edward wasn't at all ashamed to admit this.

"Huh. Emmett hates it."

"Fuck Emmett," Edward said without thinking.

The air between them was charged with an electricity that excited Bella but also
made her extremely uncomfortable.

"I do fuck Emmett." She giggled nervously. "Regularly, in fact."

Bella's statement was meant to serve as a reminder to herself as well as a news
flash to Edward. Though her face was flushed and her panties were wet from an
inappropriate conversation with the personification of her impossible dream, she
wasn't one of those pathetic women who placed their lives on hold while they
mooned over a man they knew they would never have. Bella had a man—and
quite a good one at that—in her life and in her. Lately, he'd even become
attentive. There was no good reason for her to be flirting with Edward.

Evoking the memory of her boyfriend worked, to a point. She'd successfully
managed to slow her racing heart, until Edward took a step toward her. He knew
the question he was about to ask was inappropriate, but didn't care. It was
something he'd wanted to know since the moment Bella admitted she fake-
smoked.

When he found his voice, it was breathy even for a whisper.

"Your orgasms?"

Bella felt the color drain from her cheeks. "What about them?"

"Fake or real?"

Bella bit her lower lip and looked over at the door, carefully avoiding eye contact
with Edward.

As far as Edward was concerned, she'd just answered his question.

Chapter Nine

Or Will This Dream of Mine Fade out of Sight?

In that single moment, Edward wanted so many things. He wanted to apologize
to Bella for making her feel uncomfortable, for crossing a line with his question.
He wanted to fess up—to finally be honest with Bella about his feelings for her,
feelings which were far from honorable and rapidly increasing in intensity. He
wanted to see her smile, not a fake smile from a fake smoker, but a genuine one
that lit her entire face. Most of all, he wanted to pull her into his arms and into
his bed and study the responses her body would have to his touch, stopping only
once he was certain that the climaxes he'd given her were as natural and as real
as the shining sable locks atop her head.

He could justify his inaction a multitude of ways: he respected Bella too much to
compromise her that way, that he could never do that to Rose, that this night
was not the time. Any and all of those reasons would be sufficient enough to
cause him to keep things between Bella and him exactly as they were—pseudo-
platonic. None of them was the real reason Edward found his feet frozen in place,
unable to make a move toward her.

Cowardice was paralyzing, so instead of declaring himself, Edward stated the
obvious.

"I've made you uncomfortable."

Bella released her lower lip from between her teeth and shrugged.

"Why?" he asked, even though he knew the answer.

Bella responded with an almost inaudible sigh.

They stood in silence for such a long time that Edward was startled when Bella
finally spoke. "Why am I uncomfortable, or why do I fake it?"

"Both."

"You can't really expect me to answer that. Our friendship notwithstanding, I feel
as though I'm betraying Emmett simply by having this conversation with you."

"You shouldn't; you're free to see other people. You told me this yourself."

"Seeing other people and badmouthing him to a mutual acquaintance are very
different things. Don't think for a second I'm not completely cognizant of
precisely how much you are enjoying this newfound insight into my relationship
with Emmett. I saw that smile on your face. Do you know what it told me?"

Edward shook his head.

"It confirmed my suspicion that you didn't ask the original question because you
like me; rather, you asked the question because you dislike Emmett."

Edward couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Bella, that's not it."

"Really? Are you sure? Because it seems to me that you and Emmett are in
constant competition, and Rose is the ultimate prize. We all know the extent to

which sexual prowess defines male self-worth, and how knowing one's enemy
lacks that prowess can be the ultimate weapon. I just can't believe I've been so
stupid. In my desperation for someone—anyone—unbiased in whom I could
confide, I just unknowingly handed you more ammunition."

"Ammunition?" Edward repeated, dumbfounded. "What are you talking about?"

"For the next time. You know, when Rose heads into the office on a Saturday or
after a rushed dinner out with you. If she says something thoughtless or hurtful
before heading off to see Emmett under the guise of work, which just so you
know, I don't believe for a second they are truly just working during all the time
they spend together, now you have the ultimate comeback."

"I would never betray you like that," Edward insisted.

"Right. Just like I'm sure you told Rose you wouldn't advertise the fact she'd had
some work done."

Edward wanted to tell Bella that she had it completely wrong, that he wouldn't do
that to her, not now, not ever, because he was far more protective of her than
he'd ever been of Rose. He didn't, though. He knew because of the circumstances
under which they met, because while he stood on the sidewalk having an
inappropriate conversation with Bella another woman was upstairs wearing his
ring, Bella had no reason to believe he meant a word he said. He remained silent
because he knew he caused this with his own inappropriate conduct. He'd
behaved appallingly and for all Bella knew, he always did. That if Bella were to
take his actions at face value, then this—skulking away from his fiancée so that
he could have an inappropriate conversation with another woman—was Edward's
normal. Until that moment, he hadn't thought it was possible to hate himself so
much.

Bella took off Edward's jacket and held it out to him. "Here."

"You'll freeze," he said, holding up his hand in a gesture meant to convince Bella
to keep the jacket. She thrust it toward him a second time, and he put it on in
resignation.

"I'll be fine. I never would have accepted it in the first place had I known..." Bella
stopped speaking and shook her head.

"What?"

"Had I known the costs associated with doing so."

Edward was painfully aware of the fact Bella was not referring to his tuxedo
jacket and had no idea how their playful banter had suddenly turned so ugly.

He ran his fingers through his hair, groaning in frustration. "You tell me what to
do, Bella. Tell me what it will take for you to believe I care about you, that I'm
doing this for you, that you are the person I want and need, and that I would
never intentionally hurt you. That I crossed a line just now, yes, but it wasn't
because this is a game to me. I'm not manipulating you to teach Rose a lesson.
What will it take to prove that to you?"

Bella didn't believe him for an instant. She felt naïve and ashamed, and her
response was more the manifestation of these emotions than her heart's plaintive
cry for what it truly wanted.

"You can't have it both ways, Edward."

"I'm not trying to."

"That's bullshit, and you know it." She folded her arms across her chest and
leaned back on her heels. "Okay, fine. Let's say for the sake of argument, you
don't want it all. What do you want?"

As tempting as it was and as easy as it would be to do so, Edward couldn't bring
himself to lie to Bella.

"I want you," he whispered.

His quiet confession knocked the air out of Bella's lungs with such intensity she
may as well have been punched in the chest. Bella had dreamed of Edward
saying these words to her more times than she could count. In her fantasies,
they filled her with joy, fulfillment, passion and the promise of a tomorrow too
blissful to imagine.

The reality left her feeling empty and angry.

She glared at Edward, her face void of any expression. "I don't believe you."

"Then what will it take? What do I have to do to convince you what I feel for you
is real?"

Bella didn't have to think about her answer, and when she spoke, her voice was
steady and emotionless. She knew exactly what Edward needed to do to prove
himself to her; she just didn't think for a second he would actually do it.

"Leave Rose."

Edward stared at Bella, trying to wrap his mind around her request.

"Leave Rose," she repeated. "Or leave me the hell alone."

"I can't leave you alone," he responded automatically.

"I suppose that leaves us at a standstill, doesn't it? Regardless of what you can or
can't do, I can't be a party to emotional infidelity and it's become abundantly
clear to me that's where our friendship is headed. I feel badly enough I let things
get as far as they have between us. I've just been so lonely, and felt so isolated
that I briefly lost sight of who I am. You said there was no reason to pretend with
you. Well, this..." She wagged her index finger between the two of them. "...isn't
me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really should find Emmett. Good-bye, Edward." In
a cloud of dark blue silk chiffon, Bella disappeared inside the hotel.

Edward remained on the sidewalk for several minutes, his eyes clenched,
mentally replaying their conversation. The phrase "emotional infidelity" stung
more each time it entered his mind. Still, he went over every detail of their
conversation, again and again, in the hope he could convince himself that Bella
was simply speaking out of anger, and that he had not been unfaithful to Rose in
any sense of the word. It was only after he accepted the idea that he'd failed in
almost every way a man could that he found his way back to his fiancée.

"There you are," Rose said when Edward reappeared at her side. "I was about to
send out a search party."

"No need. I just went outside for some air."

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" Rose's voice was heavy with
accusation.

Edward took Rose's hand and pressed his cheek against hers, whispering quietly
in her ear, "Do you really want to have this conversation now? Bear in mind; you
are hardly an innocent party."

Keeping with his ruse, Edward kissed Rose's cheek. He had no way of knowing
that from across the room, Bella witnessed this small display of what seemed like
affection and marveled at how a simple, chaste gesture could tell two women no
less than fifty feet away from one another exactly where they stood.

Hating who she had become, Bella made a silent vow to forget Edward Cullen.

"You seem a million miles away."

Bella felt Emmett's hands on her upper arms, and gave him a small smile.

"I'm sorry. Maybe it's the combination of the champagne and my inability to
breathe in this dress, but everything tonight almost seems surreal."

Her statement was completely true, just not in the way Emmett thought it was.

"You'll feel better when I get you home and strip you out of it," he said
suggestively.

"Undoubtedly."

Emmett leaned down and placed a quick kiss on Bella's forehead. "You were
magnificent tonight. Do you have any idea how beautiful you look?"

"You don't have to lay it on that thick, you know," she teased. "When we get back
to my apartment, I'll let you come inside regardless."

He laughed at her double entendre, even if he was slightly annoyed at her
inability to take a compliment. "I didn't have an ulterior motive. But if that's the
offer on the table, how about a quick spin around the dance floor and then we get
out of here?"

"That's the best idea I've heard all night."

Later that night, the comfort Bella felt in Emmett's arms was genuine, even if the
ecstasy was not.

Chapter Ten

From This Moment On

Through the duration of the party, Edward replayed the conversation he'd had
outside with Bella over and over in his mind. Though the assumptions she'd made
about his character were not at all indicative of the man he believed himself to
be, he couldn't fault her for judging him so harshly. Edward was painfully aware
that his behavior over the past several weeks was inappropriate—bordering on
immoral—and that all parties involved (including his betrothed) deserved better
from him.

Edward was anxious to go home. There was a serious discussion that needed to
take place between he and Rose, and though he wasn't looking forward to it, he
was anxious to be done with it. He wasn't planning on ending his engagement to

Rose because Bella gave him an ultimatum; the conversation he'd had with Bella
earlier that evening had been the impetus for his decision. As Bella stood before
him—flushed and earnest, clutching his jacket around her shoulders—Edward
realized he got more pleasure from simply being in Bella's company than he did
from actually being in Rose. He knew the timing was bad, but also acknowledged
that as far as the demise of a long-term relationship was concerned, there was no
such thing as a good time to do it. He might as well just get it over with.

His decision made, Edward turned his attention to his soon-to-be-ex fiancèe. For
the first time in recent memory, he found himself carefully studying the
statuesque blond to whom he had pledged his troth. Her blonde hair was pulled
into a tight chignon at the nape of her neck, showcasing the bones in her long
neck and slim shoulders. In a black velvet evening gown with deep red lips, she
evoked the classic beauty of a Hitchcock heroine. Her posture was perfect and
her manners flawless, and even after all these years, Edward couldn't help but be
impressed by her. After all, there was a great deal Rose had accomplished.

Though the glass ceiling was beginning to become a thing of the past, Edward
wouldn't deny that women in business had a distinct disadvantage to their male
counterparts. He'd observed this himself, on multiple occasions, and it only
intensified when the female in question was attractive. Regardless of education or
professional achievements, women like Rose were often taken about as seriously
as Barbie dolls, and Rose was not an exception.

If Rose had been manufactured by Mattel, she would be marketed as MBA Barbie
(Wharton degree and MENSA membership card included, pants suit and sensible
heels optional). Take her out of the box and remove her accessories, she was no
different from Malibu Barbie. She would still be objectified as nothing more than a
body designed to be dressed, undressed and posed according to the capricious
whims of the infantile. Though the individuals who wanted to play with Rose were
far more likely to shop at Brooks Brothers than Gymboree, the end result was the
same. Despite her impressive resume and numerous professional
accomplishments, Rose constantly had to prove herself capable.

In spite of this, Rose was incredibly successful. Her looks closed some doors for
her and opened others, but her mind made most of this irrelevant. She could out
man the men with whom she worked, and as a result, she was significantly
harder (and colder) than the naturally pretty and somewhat shy scholarship
student who had intrigued Edward so greatly during their senior year at Cornell.
Edward knew underneath Rose's intense drive to succeed, that girl—the quiet one
with the mousy brown hair who was determined to rise above her humble
beginnings—was in there somewhere.

This is why despite more recent events, Edward had nothing but respect,
admiration and genuine affection for Rose. He was proud of everything she had
accomplished, even if he felt he no longer knew her. With his eyes remained fixed
on her, he tried to picture his future. Ever since he lost his parents, Edward had
wanted a family of his own with a desperation he could not articulate. Try as he
may, he no longer saw this as something he could have with Rose.

For this, he blamed Bella. Edward did not cling to the romantic idea that because
he was committed to one woman, he would never feel sexually or emotionally
attracted to another. To him, monogamy meant wanting one's partner more than
anyone else, not exclusively. Still, he felt romantic relationships should have a
component of intense passion and bona fide sexual need. He no longer felt either
of these things for Rose. In the car ride home from the party, Edward decided to
end his engagement not because of the longing he felt for Bella, but because of
the absence of such longing for Rose.

Edward could tell from Rose's body language she wanted to fight with him, but he
was determined not to give her the satisfaction. Regardless of how they felt now,
he did not wish for their five-year relationship to be reduced to a screaming
match. He was better than that; Rose was better than that. Edward could do this
civilly, provided Rose kept her temper in check. She was known to hit below the
belt, and Edward knew that if she did so that evening—if she attacked his
character or even worse, Bella's—all bets were off.

They made their way home in relative silence. Rose pushed her way ahead of
Edward when they arrived in front of their building, rushing inside with the speed
of a track star as he trailed behind her. Consequently, Edward was not yet
completely inside their apartment when Hurricane Rose made landfall.

"What the fuck was that about?" she seethed.

Without meeting her gaze, he brushed past her and went to the kitchen, where
he poured himself three fingers of whiskey. Liquid courage, he thought to himself
as he took a sip. When he looked up from his glass, Rose was standing in front of
him in nothing but a strapless bra and Spanx, fuming.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, trying to gauge the extent of her anger.

"I don't know darling, perhaps you could tell me."

Rose sneered her endearment as if it were an obscenity, and ostensibly it was.
Traditionally, this was how she and Edward fought—with superficial politeness
and restraint, using the same words more functional couples uttered to express
affection as alliterated euphemisms for what they were really thinking.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Edward said, shrugging.

"Then allow me to enlighten you." Rose dropped her voice an octave, mimicking
Edward's tone from earlier that evening. "'You are hardly an innocent party.' Care
to fill me in on what you meant and why you felt making a statement such as
that was appropriate at my company Christmas party?"

Rose knew exactly what Edward meant; he was accusing her of having an affair
with Emmett. Though she wouldn't deny her attraction to Emmett, she found it
incredibly insulting that Edward would think she would ever act on it. Her
relationship status notwithstanding, she had enough stacked against her at work
without being the whore who slept her way to the top. If Edward thought so little
of her, the least he could do was tell her directly and to her face.

Edward didn't want to take the bait, but ultimately couldn't resist. He placed the
back of his hand against Rose's forehead. "Are you certain you're not ill, love?"

"I feel fine, and you know it," she snapped, smacking him away. "Stop trying to
change the subject."

"I'm not changing the subject. You're clearly not yourself this evening. Usually,
when you dish it out, you can take it. You started this when you implied I'd
behaved inappropriately with Bella. Don't insult my intelligence by pretending
otherwise."

"Oh, I can take it."

"Bella thinks you and Emmett are having an affair."

Rose rolled her eyes, not at Edward's accusation, but at how he'd come to his
erroneous conclusion. "Bella would."

"That's not an answer."

"You're right, it isn't. I'm not going to dignify your accusation—because let's be
real here, it was not a question—with a response."

"It doesn't matter, anyway. I'm done."

Edward was referring to his relationship with Rose. Of course, Rose didn't realize
this.

"Good. You won't win anyway." Rose stormed off to the bathroom, leaving
Edward to contemplate her statement.

For the first time that evening, Edward thought Rose was completely right. He
made his way to his bedroom and pulled a suitcase out of his closet. There no
sense in prolonging the inevitable. Even though he owned the apartment, he was
willing to go to a hotel for a few days while he worked out the logistics of a split
with Rose. He changed out of his tuxedo and packed enough clothing to get him
through the week. When he was certain he had everything he needed, he sat on
the edge of the bed and waited for Rose to emerge from the bathroom. Fifteen
minutes later, he was out of patience. He walked to the bathroom and tapped on
the door.

There was no answer.

"Rose, are you all right?"

Hearing nothing, he opened the door slowly. Rose was sitting on the toilet in just
her strapless bra, clutching her abdomen. He knew something was wrong, but the
shock he felt at the sight before him paralyzed him. Not knowing what else to do,
he stupidly repeated himself.

"Are you all right?"

"I think I need to go to the hospital," Rose whispered. "I'm bleeding."

Chapter Eleven

Like the Moon Growing Dim on the Rim of the Hill

Rosalie Lillian Hale had never been an overly emotional person. Feelings were yet
another luxury she learned very early in life that she could do without. Some girls
had pretty clothing and parents who doted on them. Those were the girls more
suited to expressing themselves, and Rose was almost positive their parents took
the time to listen. After all, time was the ultimate indulgence. Feelings were
cheap enough that everyone had them. Parents who took the time the listen to
their children were a precious commodity, a fact of which Rose was painfully
aware long before she could even write her own name.

When Rose saw Edward's packed suitcase, gut-wrenching physical pain
notwithstanding, she knew what it meant. She wished she could say she was
surprised Edward was leaving her, but she wasn't. After all, that was what men
did; they left. Rose learned this at twelve years old, when her father walked out,
leaving Rose's mother with four children.

Rose was neither surprised, nor was she particularly upset. Her father was rarely
around as it was. When Rose asked her mother where he was, Rose's mother
replied simply that he was working. Though Rose did not pretend to understand
economics, she knew that as a factory worker, her father was compensated
based on the hours that he worked. If he were truly working double shifts, Rose's
mother wouldn't be waiting tables at the local Denny's to make ends meet, nor
would their electricity be turned off more frequently than it was on. What did
surprise Rose was just how limited the prospects were for a single mother of four
with no skills, no education and no child support.

Rose's mother claimed she was able to support her family when she parlayed her
experience waiting tables into a job as a server at a private club. As it turned out,
the privacy at said establishment was dubious at best, and claiming she was still
a waitress wasn't the most well-thought-out ruse. It didn't take long for Rose to
figure out her mother was a stripper, and that a lot more than dancing took place
in the champagne room.

Rochester wasn't a particularly large city, and Rose was at an age where her
peers were obsessed with all things sexual. Less than four months after her
father left, things began to change for Rose at school. In a matter of days, she
went from being practically invisible to the preferred target of both overt bullying
and whispered rumors. She could live with the fact that the girls she'd previously
called her friends would no longer be seen with her, but the morning she arrived
at school to find the word "whore" written on her locker in permanent marker
pushed her over the edge. Locked in a bathroom stall, Rose permitted herself a
luxury she'd thought she could never afford—tears.

When there was nothing left, she rose to her feet and washed her face. As she
stared at her reflection in the mirror, she vowed that she would never be like her
mother. She would never believe a man's promises of forever, regardless of how
sincere they seemed at the time, nor would she ever find herself in a situation
where she needed to whore herself out to feed her children. She didn't care what
she had to do or whom she had to fuck to make it happen, but she would get an
education that would enable her to earn a more-than-comfortable living. She
wasn't above doing anything her mother did, as long the end justified the means.
Specifically, that regardless of her relationship status, she would be able to
support herself and whatever children she had—and that no one would ever call
her daughter a whore because of her own poor decisions. The children she'd not
yet had became her biggest motivation to succeed, and over the course of the
next twenty years, this had not changed.

As Rose watched Edward run around their apartment, grabbing her sweats,
underwear and a maxi pad, she stayed in their bedroom fixated on two thoughts.
If the excruciating pain in her abdomen was any indication, she had to be dying.
Secondly, Edward was taking care of her right now not because he wanted to, but
because he felt he should. Despite all of her hard work and meticulous planning,
Rose still found herself dependent on a man. If tears were something of which
she was still capable, she would have shed some at that moment.

An hour later, as Edward stood in the waiting room of Pennsylvania Hospital, he
couldn't remember a time when he'd felt more helpless. This feeling only partially
abated when his uncle arrived to offer moral support and additional medical
advice, if any was needed.

Though Edward bore his last name, Dr. Carlisle Cullen was not related to Edward
by blood nor was he technically old enough to be his father. After the death of his
parents, Edward was sent to live with his mother's younger sister, Esme, who at
twenty-two years old put her own aspirations on hold to parent a child she'd

neither birthed nor asked for. A chronic over-thinker even then, Edward felt as
though he was intruding even though his aunt and uncle assured him repeatedly
that he was not. It was for this reason alone he asked to attend boarding school,
hoping that his absence would give Carlisle and Esme their lives back.

Carlisle and Esme were painfully aware that they were not Edward's biological
parents. They also knew that Edward thought they viewed him as an imposition,
and tried on many occasions to convince him otherwise, though the emotional
distance Edward kept between his self and his adopted parents made it difficult
for them to do so. For that reason, the second Carlisle saw Edward's cell number
on his caller ID, he knew something was wrong. He also knew he would go to
Edward because that was what family did. Regardless of what Edward perceived
their relationship to be, as far as Carlisle was concerned, Edward was his son.

Still, moments like these were awkward. Carlisle wanted to embrace Edward, but
after all these years he still was uncertain that it would be welcome. Instead, he
stood at his side and gave him a couple of firm pats on the back.

"Do you know anything yet?" Carlisle asked.

"Apparently, Rose was pregnant and the embryo implanted in her cervix. Is that
even possible?"

Carlisle was not an OB/GYN, but during the years he spent working in the
emergency room as a general surgeon, he'd seen just about everything.

"Yes, though it's not all that common. I take it she's in surgery now?"

Edward nodded. "There's no way they can save the baby, and they aren't even
sure if they can save her uterus. She's going to be devastated."

Carlisle couldn't help but notice the calm detachment with which Edward spoke. It
made him wonder if Edward had processed any of what was going on.

"I wasn't aware you were trying to get pregnant."

"We weren't."

"How are you holding up?"

Carlisle knew what Edward was sure to be feeling all too well—he and Esme tried
unsuccessfully for years to have a child of their own. Finally, after watching his
wife endure six miscarriages with no reason to believe that a seventh pregnancy
would result in a live birth, Carlisle convinced Esme that he didn't need biological
offspring to feel like a father and that he couldn't love her nephew more had he
begotten him himself.

"It's not like what you and Aunt Esme went through."

"Of course it is."

"No, it isn't. You planned each pregnancy, and when they didn't work out, had to
deal with your hopes being crushed. I was told about this pregnancy and the fact
it wasn't viable in the same sentence. Crying over the baby seems self-indulgent
with Rose in surgery, knowing that had I gotten her here ten minutes later she
would have bled out. I almost didn't bring her..."

"Edward, you can't blame yourself..."

Edward sank into one of the vinyl upholstered armchairs, running a hand through
his hair in frustration. "I can't not blame myself. I didn't notice she was in pain
because we were fighting. I was actually going to end it tonight—not the
pregnancy, I mean, obviously I didn't know about that, but our relationship. I
won't now. I mean, I can't." He buried his head in his hands. "I can't leave her,
but I don't know how I'll be able to stay with her."

Carlisle sat next to Edward and thought very carefully about what to say. "You've
been having problems?"

"No." Edward laughed bitterly. "That's the crazy thing. I just feel like I no longer
know her. What's worse is that I'm not sure I want to get to know her. I feel like
the Rose I fell in love with no longer exists. Meanwhile, the Rose I was about to
break up with was pregnant. I packed my bag, and would have walked out on a
woman who was carrying my child. What kind of man does that make me?"

"One who didn't know."

"Except I know now, and I hate myself. Presumably, it was my baby, right? I
mean, with the exception of a handful of baseless rumors, I have no reason to
believe she was unfaithful. I've wanted nothing more than a family of my own for
as long as I can remember, and yet I can't bring myself to mourn the one that
will never be. And though I'm worried about Rose and I want to be by her side as
she recovers and help her in any way that I can, part of me thinks if I do that,
we'll settle back into the way things were."

"And you don't want that..."

"No." He clenched his eyes shut. "I just don't see how either of us will ever be
happy together."

"You don't have to figure this out..."

Carlisle stopped talking when he saw a man he assumed was Rose's doctor
walking toward them.

"Is there an update?" Edward asked, leaping to his feet.

As the doctor explained Rose's condition, Edward hung on his every word. Rose
lost a lot of blood, but ultimately she was going to be okay. As the doctor
explained what recovering from a hysterectomy entailed, Edward felt a sharp pain
in his chest that made it difficult for him to breathe. There was no doubt in
Edward's mind that Rose would never recover from this.

Chapter Twelve

Clouds Came Along to Disperse the Joys We Had Tasted

When Rose opened her eyes in the recovery room, her first thought was that she
was dead. Not only was her pain gone, but she had a strange sensation that she
was floating. As her vision came into focus, she recognized that the man holding
her hand wasn't Jesus but Edward, a realization that left Rose with far more
questions than answers. Then it slowly came back to her—the party, their
argument, Edward's packed suitcase and the revelation that a baby she didn't

know she was carrying (and likely the only one that she ever would) was causing
her to hemorrhage, placing her life and her ability to bear children at risk. Though
hospitals were some people's idea of hell, Edward's presence assured her that she
was, indeed, alive. That being established, there was one more thing she needed
to know.

"Am I..." Rose swallowed, causing a sharp pain in her throat that surprised her
and made her wonder how she could feel anything at all with all the morphine
that was being pumped into her veins. "I mean, can I?"

Edward's eyes brimmed with tears, and Rose had her answer.

"I'm so sorry," he said.

"For what? There's nothing you need to apologize for, is there?" she asked,
silently willing him to inform her of what his plans had been the previous evening.

He said nothing, and Rose decided not to press him until she had time to process
everything.

"Have you called my mother?"

Edward shook his head, and Rose slowly exhaled.

"Good. I'd prefer that you didn't."

"I figured as much."

Rose nodded. "Thank you." She closed her eyes and sighed. "Who else knows I'm
here?"

"Carlisle and Esme."

Rose didn't begrudge Edward emotional support. In times of crisis, everyone
wanted to surround themselves with people whom they knew would do
everything they could to lighten their loved ones burdens. Even with a morphine
drip, Rose could not escape the irony that Edward doubted Carlisle's love for him
almost as much as Rose doubted Edward's love for her. In this way, she and
Edward were very similar. In times of crisis, both would choose reliable comfort
over possibly dubious affection. It suddenly occurred to Rose that perhaps for the
first time in her life, there was someone who would offer her both.

"I want you to call Emmett."

Edward felt as though he'd been punched in the gut. "You can't be thinking about
work right now..."

"I'm not," Rose snapped, her tone making it clear that she wanted no further
discourse on the issue. She also wanted Edward to leave her alone, but wasn't
sure how to go about achieving this. Thankfully, her doctor arrived to discuss her
prognosis, and that was a conversation she preferred to have without an
audience.

Despite the fact it was frigid, Edward went outside to call Emmett. Though he
knew Rose asked him to make the phone call, he had no idea which details Rose
expected him to reveal. Thankfully, Emmett did not answer and Edward was able
to leave a voice message during which he simply explained that Rose was
recovering from emergency surgery and was expected to remain the in hospital
for the next four or five days. He provided Emmett with Rose's contact
information and left it at that.

Edward briefly toyed with the idea of calling Bella. Their row of the previous
evening notwithstanding, it was her company he craved most of all. Bella's moral
compass had proven to be about as precise as NASA's GPS. She would know what
to do; she always did. Still, Edward wouldn't be the first to initiate contact. Bella
was probably still livid with him—and rightfully so. He went inside to the elevator
and wondered how in the past twenty-four hours his entire life had turned to shit.
The doors closed halfway before opening again, and a brunette he'd know
anywhere came whizzing past him, typing away on her iPhone.

"Thank you for holding the elevator," Bella said without looking up. "Four,
please."

Edward pushed the button and turned to face her. "What are doing you here?"

The familiarity of his voice startled her; Edward was the last person she'd
expected to see.

"I work here."

Well, that would explain her white lab coat and the stethoscope around her neck
even if it was contradictory to what she'd previously told him.

Shocked she hadn't immediately started beating him with her laptop bag, he
decided to operate on the assumption that Bella no longer wanted to rip his
testicles off and shove them down his throat. Besides, inane chatter was a
welcome diversion.

"I thought you were in private practice."

"I am."

"I don't understand."

The doors opened, and Bella stepped out of the elevator. "It's my favorite part of
my job. Want to come see?"

It was the best suggestion anyone had made to Edward all day. Grateful for a
distraction, he followed Bella down a corridor to two large locked doors, which
swung open after she raised her ID badge in front of the sensor. She stopped at
the nurses' station and picked up some files before quickly heading down the hall.
When she realized Edward was lingering behind, she stopped and gestured to
him.

"Come on," she said. "Meanwhile, what are you doing here?"

"Visiting someone," he said simply.

Bella nodded, and by the time Edward realized their destination, he'd followed her
into a room filled with newborn babies.

"When you register in labor and delivery," she explained, "you indicate on the
paperwork the name of the pediatrician you're planning on using. After the baby
is born, the pediatrician you selected comes to the hospital to check on the
infant, discuss any special care that is needed and address any concerns of the
parents." After rubbing some sanitizer into her hands, she walked over to a
bassinet, comparing the identification number on the baby's anklet to the one in
her file. "Have you ever held a life that was only hours old?"

Edward shook his head.

"It's amazing. They are so soft and trusting, and newborns have a specific scent
to them..."

Edward no longer heard the words that were coming out of Bella's mouth. Finally,
it hit him. He had lost a baby—his baby, a baby he'd wanted even before he knew
it existed. The tears came hard and fast, his grief too intense to even attempt to
mask it.

Bella still had no idea what was going on, but knew something awful must have
happened for Edward to have this kind of outburst. She dropped her files on a
desk and took him by the hand.

"Let's get out of here," she said, silently leading him out of the nursery and down
the hall, stopping when she noticed an empty room. Bella pulled Edward inside
and shut the door. Their solitude was his undoing, and he sank into an armchair,
his quiet tears grew into full blown sobs.

Figuring he would tell her what was wrong when he was ready, Bella comforted in
the only way she knew. Standing before him, she offered her embrace. He held
her tightly, his tears dampening her sweater where he pressed his face below her
breasts. She stroked his hair and rocked from side to side, and continued to do so
long after his crying ceased.

He spoke quietly, without loosening his grip on her. "I've wanted children for as
long as I could remember. I wasn't in a hurry, but it was something I looked
forward to, that I could do all the things with my kids that my parents never got
to do with me. I never thought..."

Edward stopped talking and closed his eyes, hating himself for his initial reaction
to Rose's pregnancy. He then remembered he'd yet to relate to Bella the events
of the past twelve hours.

"Last night, Rose had severe abdominal pain and heavy bleeding. We came to the
emergency room, and they determined she had an ectopic pregnancy and that
the embryo implanted itself in her cervix. They took her into surgery
immediately, fearing she would bleed to death if they waited. They did manage to
save her, but she had to have a hysterectomy. And obviously, the baby..."

"Shh," Bella whispered. "It's going to be okay."

"Is it? Do I even I deserve for everything to work itself out?"

"Of course you do."

"You may change your mind when you find out what my initial reaction was to
hearing Rose's pregnancy wasn't viable."

"I doubt that."

"It was relief. I was relieved because a baby would tie me to Rose forever, and
that was the last thing I wanted. I was actually grateful for the demise of my own
child. Then you showed me those newborns and now I can't believe I felt that
way. I hate myself and I want to mourn, though I don't feel I have a right to. It
was all so abstract until about fifteen minutes ago."

"Oh Edward, I'm so sorry. I never would have brought you to the nursery if I had
known."

"I'm not upset with you. I'm the one who keeps fucking up. Bella, I'm so sorry
about last night at the party. Despite what my actions implied, I wasn't trying to
cheat on Rose with you."

"You don't have to do this. Besides, I refuse to allow you to take the blame for
something for which I am equally culpable. If you behaved inappropriately, it was
with my encouragement. None of that matters now. The important thing is that
you and Rose heal."

"There is no Rose and me. I was about to end it when all this happened..."

"What?"

"Last night. I had my bag packed and..."

Bella shook her head. "No. You can't be serious."

"You told me to leave her!"

Bella stepped away from him and covered her eyes with her hand. "I said to leave
her or leave me alone."

"Exactly," he yelled, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Well, I thought you would go with Option B."

Edward looked at Bella as if she'd just slapped him. "How can you say that?"

Feeling her own tears well in her eyes, she looked away.

"I'm not Rose," she said, shrugging.

"No, you're not and thank god for that." He grabbed her hands and pulled her
toward him. "Bella, look at me." He continued speaking only after she made eye
contact. "I wasn't leaving her because you told me to, or because of what I feel
for you. I was leaving her because of what I don't feel for her. And now..."

Bella was ecstatic to hear feelings for Edward were mutual, but she was careful
not to let those feelings show. He still belonged to another woman who happened
to be lying upstairs, broken and bleeding. And if Edward went ahead with the
break-up before Rose was physically healed, Bella was quite sure she wouldn't
want anything to do with him. No decent person would walk away from someone
he claimed to love—even if the love was more familial than romantic—at her hour
of need. Bella felt this way for moral reasons that were obvious and practical
reasons that were not. Specifically, if a man commits a questionable act for you,
you have no reason whatsoever to believe that down the road, he won't do it to
you. Ultimately, she had no interest in Edward if his actions called into question
his character.

When Bella spoke, her voice was calm and detached. "I want you to concentrate
on Rose right now, and yourself. You suffered a huge loss this weekend. Whether
you realize it or not, and you do need time to mourn. When everything is back to
normal, we'll figure it all out."

Bella's words came out of her mouth sounding convincing enough that she almost
believed them.

Chapter Thirteen

It's the Wrong Time and the Wrong Place

Emmett lingered outside Rose's hospital room, more than a little nervous about
crossing the threshold. Though he had no reason not to take Edward's voice
message at face value, Emmett didn't think for a moment Edward had called
simply to inform him of Rose's impending absence from work. There was a weight
to Edward's voice, and not the kind one would expect in the hours immediately
following a loved one's brush with death. Emmett was certain Edward left out
some fairly pertinent details, but rather than call Edward back and ask him to
elaborate, Emmett hopped in a cab and went directly to Pennsylvania Hospital.
Emmett knew that whatever sent Rose to emergency surgery had to be both
serious and personal; were it not, surely Edward would have been more specific.

Emmett found himself feeling entitled to answers, and he was more than a little
surprised when he realized this was not because of deadlines or head counts, but
because he cared for Rose and wanted to support her in any way he could. After
spending several moments standing in the corridor, Emmett was no calmer than
he'd been when he arrived. Realizing his hesitancy did nothing for his nerves, he
took a deep breath and entered Rose's room.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight before him. Though Emmett had
no specific expectations regarding Rose's appearance, he'd never imagined that
she could look so fragile. Her skin was deathly pale and her platinum blonde hair,
usually worn pulled back, rested straight and flat against her chest. There was
nothing at all familiar about her, and if not for the fact Rose's face lit with
recognition the second Emmett's eyes made contact with hers, he would have
seriously questioned whether he had the correct room. Emmett placed the vase
of orange roses he'd been holding onto Rose's bedside tray table, almost as
shocked by the absence of any other flowers as he was by the absence of
Edward. Not knowing what to say, Emmett decided to go with humor.

"The lengths some people will go to in order to get out of work on a Monday."

Though Emmett had never before shown Rose any physical affection, he was
possessed of an overwhelming urge to touch her. Though Emmett had similar
urges in the past, they were born of a need for physical gratification. Yet when he
leaned forward and kissed her forehead before grasping her hand in his, sex was
the furthest thing from his mind.

Looping his ankle around the leg of the chair next to her bed, he pulled it close
enough that he could have a seat without breaking physical contact. He settled
into it and squeezed Rose's hand.

"You came," Rose whispered, offering him a half smile.

"How could I not?"

"How did you know I was here?"

"Edward called me."

"Oh." Though Rose fully remembered asking Edward to call Emmett, it seemed
like she'd made that request a million years ago. That, coupled with the fact that

she expected Edward to be spiteful and not adhere to her wishes, made Emmett's
presence before her a bit of a welcome shock.

"What happened?"

"Edward didn't tell you?"

Emmett shook his head. "Edward said you had emergency surgery, and that you
would be here for a few days."

Rose dreaded saying the words out loud, but at the same time she knew that if
she were ever to date again it was a story she'd be telling each and every time
she entered into a new relationship for the rest of her life. She imagined it
wouldn't be very different from the way her mother, Lily, described self-
indentifying as a stripper—the first time was the hardest. Subsequent instances
stung less and less, and by the time the elastic on Lily's homemade G-string wore
out, she could admit her profession to strangers as painlessly as she could rattle
off the names of her children. Rose knew this because once when she had been
naïve enough to ask, and Lily had been drunk enough to answer. Though at the
time Lily's words tore at Rose's heart, she now found them to be an odd source of
comfort.

Rose had never confided anything of a personal nature to Emmett, but she
suspected he would be a good listener. Despite the fact Emmett was her boss,
Rose had an odd feeling that were she to break down in front of him it would not
lower his opinion of her. Though Rose was not entirely certain exactly what
Emmett's opinion of her was, she knew he was fond of her as a person and found
her physically attractive. Emmett had made the latter abundantly clear despite
the fact company policy strictly forbade fraternization among executives. She
wondered if he would still desire her sexually when he found out her femininity
was being maintained exclusively via pharmaceuticals.

Knowing it would never hurt as badly as it would this time, Rose took a deep
breath and found her voice.

"We left the party last night shortly after you did. We came home and argued a
bit, but it was nothing out of the ordinary."

Emmett's eyes narrowed as he tried to process this information. "Do you two
fight a lot?"

"Well, yeah."

"Huh. That surprises me."

"Why?"

"Just because the way you've described Edward, I would think he'd go along with
whatever you wanted."

"In the past six months or so he wasn't fighting back." Rose closed her eyes and
sighed. "I thought morphine was supposed to cloud your thinking. That's what's
in the IV, you know. I should be drugged into happy oblivion, not having
relationship epiphanies."

Now that she was thinking about it, she could no longer delude herself that
Edward hadn't already emotionally checked out of their relationship by the time
Bella entered the picture. As much as Rose would like to blame Bella, she knew
she realistically couldn't.

Rose opened her eyes and focused on Emmett. "That should have been a sign,
right? That Edward didn't care enough to fight. I know what I've told you about
him, and though it was how I felt at the time, it wasn't exactly true. He's not
weak or cowardly, but somewhere along the line he stopped caring enough to
make an effort. I should have figured it out then."

Emmett had no idea what Rose was talking about. "Figured out what?"

"That he was leaving me. Last night, he had his suitcase packed. If I hadn't
started bleeding, he would have moved out. But then I couldn't walk or move,
and we came to the ER and found out I was pregnant..."

"Whoa. You're pregnant?"

"Not anymore," Rose muttered bitterly. "The embryo didn't implant itself
properly, and I lost it."

"The baby?"

Rose cringed. She'd managed to hold it together thus far by not thinking of what
was inside her as a baby. But it was a baby, it was Edward's and her baby, a
baby she'd wanted long before she knew it existed or that it was tearing her in
two.

"My baby," she added in a whisper. "And my uterus, my ovaries and my ability to
bear children."

"Oh god, Ro, I'm so sorry. I can't imagine." Emmett brushed away the tears that
had fallen beneath her eyes with the thumb of his free hand.

Rose relished the feeling of Emmett's gentle touch on her face, and she realized
how much she needed to feel—to be in the moment and sob and grieve. For the
first time in over twenty years, her tears flowed freely. Emmett stayed at her
side, holding her hand and wiping her face, until a drug-induced sleep claimed
her.

Emmett stayed at Rose's bedside until he heard Edward's voice from the hospital
corridor, followed by the soft, sweet voice he'd know anywhere. Careful not to
wake Rose, Emmett gently disengaged his hand from hers and crept to the door
so he could better hear Bella and Edward's conversation.

"I'll stop here. I doubt Rose wants to see me."

"She doesn't dislike you," Edward countered.

"Yeah, right. Have you called Emmett?"

"Yes, I left him a voicemail. Rose asked for him. Honestly, I wasn't sure how to
feel about that. She was downright belligerent when I suggested that she not
worry about work at a time like this."

"My understanding is that they've always been more than co-workers."

Edward's sharp intake of air reminded Bella of her words from the previous
evening, and she immediately regretted her candor.

"I didn't mean to imply anything," she added quickly. "I just know that in addition
to the obvious respect Emmett has for her contributions at the office, he always
seemed genuinely fond of Rose on a personal level. I'm not suggesting..."

"I know, Bella," Edward interrupted her. "It's okay."

As much as Emmett wanted to remain behind the wall and eavesdrop, he knew
he needed to make his presence known before Edward and Bella discovered it for
themselves. When he stepped out into the hallway, Edward and Bella looked
guilty, though Emmett couldn't ascertain why. There was nothing inappropriate
about their proximity to each other. They were not touching, nor did they exhibit
any of the usual indications that they'd ever previously engaged in some sort of
sexual misconduct. As Emmett studied Bella's face, he thought about the kind of
person Bella was. Moral and good, she would feel shame for even entertaining
lascivious thoughts about a man who belonged to another.

Except Rose and Edward were no longer together, were they? Rose said Edward
had been planning to leave her, not that he'd actually followed through with doing
so. Emmett wasn't sure what was going on; he knew only that when Bella's eyes
met Edward's, they did so with an intensity of emotion he'd never before
witnessed from her. If how to proceed with Rose was still a bit of mystery,
Emmett had no doubt what he needed to do about Bella.

Chapter Fourteen

Darling, When I Say to You

Emmett and Bella walked out of the hospital in awkward silence. They shared a
cab and superficial pleasantries until they arrived at Bella's apartment.

"Are you coming up?" she asked.

"Just for a moment."

As Emmett rode the elevator with Bella, their conversation remained
inconsequential. That changed the second Emmett stepped into her apartment,
closing her front door behind him. Bella was still in the process of unbuttoning her
coat when he spoke.

"How long have you been in love with Edward?"

Bella hung her coat in the closet before turning to face Emmett. When she spoke,
her voice was barely louder than a whisper.

"A while."

"Does he know?"

Bella couldn't imagine that Edward was ignorant of her feelings for him, but at
the same time, she'd never verbalized them. Unable to give a proper answer, she
offered a small shrug instead.

"Is it mutual?"

"I think so."

Though Emmett knew Bella well enough to be almost positive her relationship
with Edward was not physical, he found himself wanting clarification of this

anyway. He was fully aware that he and Bella had agreed to see other people;
therefore, his curiosity had very little to do with a personal sense of betrayal.
However, if Edward had been unfaithful to Rose, Rose certainly deserved to know
this.

"Are you sleeping with him?"

"I can't believe you'd ask me that."

"That's not an answer."

"No," she said quietly. "Physically, we've done nothing inappropriate."

"Physically," Emmett repeated, trying to wrap his mind around the significance of
Bella's subtle qualification. "Is he why you wanted to see other people?"

"Not exactly. I never thought for a second he would be interested in me that way.
I did feel as though I was being emotionally unfaithful, and you were so
unavailable to me then. I'm not blaming you for my actions, nor am I pretending
they weren't immoral."

"Were you with me just to bide your time until he left Rose?"

"No, Em. I love you. And I believed I was in love with you..."

"But you didn't end things with us when you realized you were in love with
someone else."

"In my defense, I did try to break up with you. You wouldn't hear of it."

"You didn't give me all of the information," Emmett snapped.

"I just didn't want to lose you in my life. I never meant to hurt you."

Bella placed her hand on Emmett's shoulder, but he shrugged it right off.

"You didn't."

"Hurt" wasn't the right word. Emmett struggled to identify the many emotions he
was feeling. He was relieved, but he was also angry and a little confused. Mostly,
he realized he did feel betrayed—not so much because Bella had fallen in love
with Edward, but because she appeared to have used Emmett for filler as she
waited for Edward to become free.

"Your demeanor says otherwise."

"My girlfriend just admitted she's been in love with someone else for a good
chunk of our relationship. Forgive me if I need a moment to process things."
Emmett flailed his arms in frustration. "I need to get out of here."

Bella nodded, hating herself. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Emmett opened the front door, before turning back to face Bella. "You've never
lied to me. Don't cheapen what's left of our relationship by starting now."

"Is there anything left of our relationship? I'd like to still be friends."

"I'll let you know," he said, pulling the door closed behind him.

Bella had a fairly good idea where Emmett was headed. She grabbed her phone
from her purse and frantically typed Edward a text message:

Emmett knows.

Emmett left Bella's apartment on foot, hoping a walk in the cold air would clear
his head. He wasn't planning on returning to Pennsylvania Hospital, but when he
found himself on Spruce Street, he found himself almost spirited back to Rose's
room. He poked his head in tentatively, not wanting to confront Edward in front
of Rose. As far as Emmett was concerned, that could wait indefinitely. Offering
Rose his support, however, could not wait. She was his friend, and though he'd
always cared for her, now it was something more than physical attraction and
respect for her intellect and more than even the need to commiserate as wronged
parties. He felt fiercely protective of Rose, and would be damned if he let Edward
hurt her any more than he had already.

Rose smiled when she saw him, and gestured for him to come closer. Emmett
leaned over her bed and kissed her forehead, before sitting down beside her and
taking her hand in his.

"I didn't expect to see you so soon."

"I had a change of plans." He shrugged. "So, about work. I'll file your short-term
disability paperwork tomorrow..."

"Did you come here to talk about work?" she interrupted.

Emmett sighed. "No."

Rose raised an eyebrow.

"Bella admitted to me that she's in love with Edward."

"Like that's news," she said, rolling her eyes.

"She claims it's mutual."

"Oh?" Rose pondered that for a moment. "Are they fucking?"

"No."

"And you believe her?"

"Bella wouldn't do that."

"Right."

"Trust me on this one."

"There are two kinds of people," she explained, her voice completely devoid of
emotion. "Those who are out for themselves and make no apologies for it—
present company included, of course—and those who are out for themselves and
pretend to be martyrs. You can wipe your ass with Charmin or you can use the
fucking Sears catalogue; the end result is the same. Both have the potential to
chafe, but it's always worse when it happens from the Charmin. It's so soft, you
don't expect it. No matter the method, your ass still gets bent out of shape."

"That's quite a metaphor. Are you trying to tell me your ass is broken?"

"There's nothing wrong with my ass. It's the rest of me..." she closed her eyes
and sighed.

"You're going to get through this."

"Am I?"

"Yes."

"Is it awful that I want them to pay?"

"No. It's a huge betrayal. Anger is to be expected. Eventually, you'll get over it."

Rose knew Emmett was right, but she had no desire to get over it. What she
wanted to get was revenge.

Ten minutes after sending the text message, Bella received a call from her
doorman telling her an Edward Cullen was waiting to see her. She spent the five
minutes it took for him to knock on her door wondering how he got to
Rittenhouse Square from Olde City in so little time, a question which served as
her greeting when he appeared before her.

"I didn't come from the hospital," he explained. "I came from home."

"Yes, and you live in Olde City."

"Actually, I'll be basing out of the Westin until Rose and I figure things out."

"You're going through with it."

"I have to. I can't stay out of obligation."

"You do realize when she's discharged she'll be unable to care for herself at first.
She had major surgery; the human body doesn't just bounce back from
something like that."

"I'll hire a nurse for nights and stay with her during the day. If I go home and
sleep beside her, it sends the message that everything is okay, that we're going
back to how things were. I don't want that, and when Rose realizes that I have
feelings for you, I doubt she will want it either."

Bella nodded, still barely able to wrap her mind around how much things had
changed in the past twenty-four hours.

"I didn't come here to discuss Rose," Edward explained. "I got your text
message. What exactly does Emmett know?"

Though she'd promised herself she wouldn't make any declarations to Edward
while he was still engaged to marry another woman, Bella was emotionally
exhausted. Hiding her feelings had been quite taxing, and though she knew it
wasn't fair to Edward, she couldn't deny them any longer.

"That I'm in love with you."

Edward closed the distance between them in two large strides, pulling Bella into
his arms and holding her tightly against her chest.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to hear you say that. Since the moment I
saw you, you've been all I could think about, all I wanted."

He cupped her face in his hands and slowly pressed his lips against hers. The kiss
was brief and gentle; it presumed nothing. After he pulled away, Bella found
herself wondering how a chaste, tongueless kiss from Edward somehow managed
to affect her more than past sexual encounters that went much farther physically.
When she opened her eyes, she found find Edward staring at her intently.

"I love you, too."

Edward wrapped his arms around Bella's waist, and she rested her face against
his chest. He wanted to do much more than briefly touch his mouth to hers, and
the restraint he exhibited shocked even him. As much as he wanted to explore
both sets of Bella's lips with his tongue, he didn't want to mar the beginning of
their relationship by turning something so meaningful into something he knew
would cause Bella great pain.

They stood like that—arms entwined with their bodies pressed together tightly—
for several minutes. Finally, Edward found the will to speak.

"May I stay with you tonight?"

Bella's eyes grew wide, and he realized how she was interpreting his request.

"I promise to be a perfect gentleman. I'm just not ready to let you go."

It went against everything she believed, but she was unable to say no to him.

"Okay."

For the first time since he'd arrived, Edward looked around her apartment. "I
can't believe I've never been here before."

"It wasn't appropriate; you were engaged."

Edward cringed. "Technically, I still am engaged."

"I know," Bella admitted, lowering her eyes.

"Hey, look at me." Edward gently nudged her chin, and her gaze met his. "It
won't be for long. I'm not going to make you the other woman."

Bella smiled and nodded, not wanting to verbally acknowledge that he already
had made her the other woman.

They spent the rest of the evening talking about everything and nothing. When it
was time to go to sleep, Bella went to the bathroom to change into sweats out of
a bizarre sense of modesty. When she reemerged, Edward was waiting for her in
bed. Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of his muscled
chest, and the light smattering of copper hair that formed a path which
disappeared beneath the covers.

"Got anything on under that?" She sounded panicked.

"Yes. I said I'd be a gentleman, remember?"

Now relaxed enough to tease him, Bella moved toward the bed. She marveled at
the beauty of his upper-body. "You weren't kidding about the squash."

She pulled back the covers and settled into Edward's arms. He held her, but
would only do so at arms length. Even though she was fully clothed and his
embrace avoided touching her where he wanted to most, her simple proximity
made him hard. Determined to conceal his arousal from her, he did not hold her
as tightly as he would have liked. Still, the comfort he felt while close to her was
beyond description. He closed his eyes and dreamed of a day in the future when
Bella would invite him to her bed to do more than just sleep.

Chapter Fifteen

A Lady Needs a Rest

Edward was more than a little disoriented when he woke in Bella's bed, but not
because it didn't feel like he belonged there. Though he'd done nothing more than
hold her—fully clothed—all night, the past seven hours seemed to hold more of
an emotional significance for him than the past few years had. If he'd had any
doubts that he belonged with Bella the previous evening, the morning sun melted
them away as easily as frost on a windshield.

Bella's absence, however, troubled him. He hoped her resolve had not weakened
during the same moments he found his, and got out of bed to find her. He
stopped in front of the mostly closed bedroom door when he heard voices on the
other side of it.

"The coffee is a nice ruse, Alice, but we both know why you're here." Bella's voice
was battle-weary. "You are aware it's six o'clock in the morning, right?" she said,
yawning.

"Of course I am. Emmett told Jasper you two broke up; Jasper passed the news
on to me late last night. I waited five whole hours until it was an appropriate time
to come over."

Bella sighed. "Look, I totally understand if you're Team Emmett, considering he's
Jasper's best friend. And though nothing physical has happened between Edward
and me, I was emotionally unfaithful."

"Let's get something straight. You saved Jasper from making what would have
been the greatest mistake of his life. You did so—despite having nothing to gain
and everything to lose—because it was the right thing to do. I don't give a shit if
you end up with Emmett, Edward, or your doorman. My loyalties are to you.
Though between the two of us, if you do wind up dating Edward 'I'm not a cliché;
I just play a lot of squash' Cullen, I reserve the right to mock his preppy ass
every chance I get." Alice looked over Bella's shoulder and raised her voice
slightly. "You may as well join the conversation, Edward. I know you're listening;
I can see your feet."

Edward opened the door the rest of the way and smiled sheepishly as he walked
into the living room, clad only in the boxers he'd slept in the night before. "Hi,
Alice."

"Damn," Alice muttered, raking her eyes over Edward's bare chest. "And here I
thought the Sporting Club was just fat former governors on treadmills."

Bella smacked Alice lightly on the shoulder. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," Alice said, laughing. "Though if I'd known you had company, I would
have brought you two cups of coffee. I should get going."

Bella followed Alice to the door and hugged her tightly.

"Thank you," Bella whispered, "for standing by me."

"It's what real friends do. I don't know what kind of fickle, self-centered sluts you
were friends with before." Alice paused and faked a moment of realization. "Oh
wait, yes I do."

Bella laughed as she released Alice from her embrace.

"Nice seeing more of you, Edward."

Edward chose not to acknowledge Alice's double entendre. "You too, Alice."

Seconds later, Edward and Bella were once again alone.

"Good morning," he said, smiling.

He was all bed hair, stubble and bare skin, and Bella wondered how she'd ever be
able to resist him. Her doubts only intensified when he closed the distance
between them and pulled her into his arms. Bella needed something—anything—
to distract her from the flutter in her pelvis and the moisture forming between
her legs. In the absence of anything more compelling, she settled on inane
chatter.

"Do you have any plans for the holidays?" she asked.

"Nothing major. I'll probably go to my aunt and uncle's for Christmas dinner, but
that's about it. I doubt it will even feel like Christmas. I'm fairly sure they won't
let me have a tree in my room at the Westin. You?"

"I usually go home, but since my father moved to the West Coast, it's no longer
practical."

"You should come with me."

"Thank you for the invitation, but I'd rather wait to meet your family until after..."
Overcome with guilt, Bella couldn't finish her sentence. Instead, she stared at the
floor, sighing.

"Hey." Edward nudged her face up to meet his gaze. "You didn't cause my
relationship to fall apart any more than I caused yours to. You do realize that,
right?"

Bella nodded, but remained uncomfortable enough that she felt compelled to
change the subject. "Are you going into the office today?"

"Yes, but only briefly. No one does anything the week before Christmas. If
nothing else, the timing has been good."

As if there is ever a good time to lose a child, Bella thought, pulling away from
him slightly.

He amended his statement, as though he sensed her discomfort. "No matter who
stays in the apartment, there are arrangements to be made."

Though neither of them verbalized it, their next thought was the same: and
engagements to dissolve.

"Do you regret it?" he asked.

"What, declaring myself to a man who isn't mine to love? Letting you spend the
night here? Touching you and kissing you, all the while wishing I were the kind of
woman who would let it go further?"

Bella's words went right to Edward's cock. He moved to adjust himself, to
attempt to conceal his arousal from her. This backfired, as his lack of attire made
his erection impossible to hide and the movement of his arm only called attention
to the growing bulge in his crotch. Her gaze followed his hand, and just when he
thought he couldn't get any harder, Bella proved him wrong by licking her lips.

When she looked up at his face, her smile was surprisingly suggestive.

She nodded toward his cock. "At least I know it's worth the wait. Now before I do
something I know I'll regret, I'm going to take a shower."

"May I join you?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"Yes, unless you were planning on letting me."

Bella laughed, but knew she was playing with fire. "On second thought, you
should shower first. Be sure to make it an extra-cold one."

After Edward and his cock disappeared into the bathroom, Bella leaned against
her kitchen counter, sighing. For the very time first in her life, she wished she
was a bad girl.

A few blocks away, Emmett settled into his desk at work. His building was empty
except for a few members of the custodial staff and a security guard, and even
though what he was about to do was part of his job description, carrying it out in
solitude enabled him to delude himself into thinking he had no ulterior motives.
He opened Outlook and began drafting his email to Human Resources—one that
would place Rose on short-term disability that would run concurrently with FMLA.
The latter was more for him than her; he knew very well she'd return to work
within the time allotted her through disability. Legally, upon returning from FMLA,
an employee can be placed in any open position that would not be considered a
demotion. If there was one thing Emmett wanted to ensure, it was that when
Rose returned to work, she would not be his direct report. She would be upset,
probably, but she couldn't blame him. He told himself he was simply doing his
job, and if it happened to get the job done, so much the better. After all, once he
was no longer her supervisor, he would be free to pursue her romantically.

Meanwhile, Rose was handling her own paperwork. Though technically her
discharge from the hospital was not against medical advice, it was strongly
suggested that she stay another day—something she was completely unwilling to
do. She knew Edward was planning on ending their engagement. Frankly, after
the way he'd carried on with Bella behind her back, she wanted nothing to do
with the bastard anyway.

She didn't trust Emmett's assessment that Edward and Bella had not slept
together. For all of Emmett's ability to see through bullshit in the business world,
he was incapable of seeing Bella for who she truly was. Over the past few
months, he'd painted Bella as such a saint—albeit a whiny and emotionally needy
one—that Rose thought that if Emmett walked into a room and found Bella on her
knees with Edward's dick in her ass, Emmett still wouldn't believe Bella cheated.
Still, on the off chance Emmett was right and Bella would never fuck a guy with a
fiancée, her disappearance would be cock-blocking at its finest.

Edward would be unable to break up with her if he couldn't find her. She could
pull it off easily, with only a little help from an outside source. She picked up her
cell phone and called Emmett's office.

"How did you know where to find me?" he answered.

"Wild guess. I need a favor."

"Anything for you."

"I need you to come get me at the hospital. They won't release me unless I have
a ride home. I don't want to call Edward."

"I'll be right over."

"Wait, there's something else." Her voice betrayed her nerves, but somehow, this
didn't bother her. She didn't know why she trusted Emmett completely; she only
knew that she did. "May I stay with you for a few days? Just until I figure some
things out. I can't bring myself to go home..."

"You can stay as long as you want," he interrupted.

"...and I need you to not tell Bella and Edward where I am."

He paused, trying to figure out why she'd care. "You can't hide from him
indefinitely. I think you'll feel better the sooner the two of you resolve things."

"There's nothing to resolve. Our relationship is as dead as our baby. I know it
won't feel over to him until we have an overemotional discussion that isn't really
a confrontation—because he doesn't care enough to tell me how he really feels—
in which I return the ring and he tells me he wishes things would have turned out
differently, which we both know is a crock of shit. I'm just not ready to deal with
that."

It was a lie, of course. She was more than ready to be completely free of Edward,
but not without fucking him over a bit first. Three hours later, she was propped
up on pillows in Emmett's bed. He said he'd be back to keep her company soon;
in the meantime, she allowed Xanax and Vicodin and bad daytime television to do
so on his behalf. She wondered if she'd ever feel whole again, but if that wasn't
possible, breaking Edward would be the next best thing.

Chapter Sixteen

You Know Darling Why

Edward should have been surprised when he arrived at the hospital to find Rose
had been discharged, but he wasn't. She'd been prideful for as long as he'd
known her. Though he suspected in this instance, her actions were equally
motivated by spite, he didn't begrudge Rose her anger—she'd lost far more in the
past week than he had. No longer seeing the point in staying away, he checked
out of the Westin and returned to his apartment, but not before having the locks
changed. He kept this to himself, knowing that Bella would think it was a bastard
move. She would have been right, had he done it solely to be a prick. His reason
was far more pragmatic. Rose would need to collect her belongings at some
point, and this ensured he would be present when she did so. He needed closure
to move on, and not just because of Bella. Regardless of how things were
between Edward and Rose now, the baby they'd lost was conceived because of

some feelings they had for each other, even if the emotions in question were not
love.

Days turned into weeks, and soon it was a new year. He knew Rose was doing
this out of some convoluted revenge scheme, but could never convince Bella. For
this reason, Edward was shocked when he arrived at Bella's apartment early one
evening and found her so angry, she was practically breathing fire.

"She's been staying with Emmett!" she fumed. "All this time. Can you believe it?"

"How do you know?"

"Jasper was over there last night. He mentioned to Alice that Em had a female
house guest. It has to be Rose."

Bella was livid, and not only because Emmett had managed to put one over on
her. Even though she was never in love with Emmett—even though technically it
didn't matter—she couldn't help but be hurt that Rose was living with Emmett
when Bella had not spent a single night at his apartment in all the time they
dated.

"What's his address?" Edward asked.

As soon as he had directions, he was out the door. When he arrived at Emmett's
building, he was grateful to find the doorman distracted. He breezed right by him
and into an elevator. Minutes later, he was banging on Emmett's door. It wasn't
long before Rose answered.

She rolled her eyes when she saw him. "If you want your ring back that badly,
you could have just served me with papers."

"Do you really think that's what this is about?"

"What else could it be? I saw your suitcase before we went to the hospital. I know
you were going to leave me."

"I was planning to move out, yes, but let's be real here. We both left the
relationship months before that."

Rose crossed her arms defensively. "Why are you even here?"

"We've known each other for over a decade. I may have fallen out of love with
you, but I still care..."

"You don't care how I feel. You just want closure so you can move on with Bella.
Well, allow me to give it you."

She gestured Edward inside before hurrying off to the back of the apartment. She
returned seconds later, holding her engagement ring.

"Here." She thrust it toward him. "Consider the matter closed."

Edward knew she'd be angry—with everything she lost, she certainly had reason
to be. But he never expected her to be so cold.

"I don't give a fuck about the ring." He pushed her hand away. "I just want to
talk about our baby."

"You mean my baby."

"No, I mean our baby. I lost a baby, too."

Rose's laughter was cold, even for her. "You honestly think it was yours?"

Edward stood before her, speechless.

"Why are your surprised? Our relationship was dead for months; you've admitted
this yourself. Add to it all the nights I didn't come home and my current living
arrangement, well, it doesn't take an Ivy League education to read the signs that
are right in front of you."

"Emmett?" he asked.

"Ding ding ding! We have a winner. Take it." Rose pressed her engagement ring
into Edward's hand, seething. "Now get the fuck out."

As soon as Edward was in the hallway, Rose slammed the door and threw herself
against it. She'd thought her lie would somehow even the score—it was
something she could take from him in exchange for everything he'd taken from
her. Yet it left her feeling emptier than she had before. For the second time in as
many months, Rose allowed herself to cry.

As Edward walked back to Bella's apartment, he wanted to be angry. Anger would
have been healthier; many a positive end result has been born from anger. As
much as he willed that emotion upon himself, it didn't come. He was hurt, even
crushed. He felt betrayed. And worst of all, he felt like he'd wasted too much
fucking time.

The second Bella opened her door, his hands were on the skin of her shoulders
left bare by her camisole. His face was blotchy and his eyes were red. It was
obvious he was upset; Bella just wasn't sure by what. Where Rose was involved,
there could be any number of possible scenarios.

"What happened?" she asked.

He shook his head and kicked the door closed behind him. Cupping her face in his
hands, he pressed his forehead against hers.

"Tell me to stop and I will."

Thankfully, Bella didn't make him wait long before she closed the small distance
between them. Her hands found his hair and she pressed her body against him.

"Don't ever stop," she whispered before pressing her mouth to his.

He gasped, unable to believe this was happening, despite the fact it had been
months in the making. But when her tongue brushed past his lips to touch his
own, he could no longer deny this was truly happening. That was, until Bella put
her hands on his chest and pushed him away.

He was about to apologize for being so forward when her hands found the hem of
her shirt and pulled it over her head. After discarding it onto the floor, she untied
the drawstring of her lounge pants and they soon followed suit. She stood before
him—naked except for a pair of plain white cotton panties that were so obviously
not meant to be sexy that somehow they were. He marveled at her natural
beauty. Her full breasts were pale in a way that made the flush of her nipples that
much more pronounced. Her waist was small, and her hips were round. She was
far lovelier than he'd imagined.

For the second time that day, Edward was speechless.

Bella moved toward him and began to unbutton his coat. "I love you. You love
me. Haven't we waited long enough?"

After she pushed the coat off his shoulders, he quickly pulled his sweater and t-
shirt over his head. Bella ran her fingertips over his chest.

"You have no idea how much I wanted to do this that first night. It took
everything I had to behave. I wanted to touch you, to lick you..." Her tongue
darted out of her mouth and traced the perimeter of his nipple as her hands
began to work on the fly of his jeans. "And when you got hard, I could see it—a
tiny silver of skin where your cock pushed your boxers open. I wanted to touch it,
to suck it. I don't even like doing that, you know. But I wanted to do it to you."

She pushed his jeans and underwear down his legs and his erection sprang free.
She wrapped her hand around his length and ran her thumb over the tip,
spreading his precum around before raising her hand back to her mouth.

"Mmm," she said, sucking her thumb.

Though he was more than a little surprised at how brazen she was, Edward
wasted no time in kicking off his shoes and discarding what was left of his
clothing. He picked Bella up and carried her to her room, where he placed her on
her feet beside the bed.

"Promise me something," he said.

"Anything."

"Promise me you won't fake it."

Her eyes widened, and she looked almost afraid. "On one condition."

He repeated her earlier answer. "Anything."

"Promise me you won't be gentle."

"Oh, so the lady likes it rough." He leaned forward and nipped her ear. "I was
raised to give the lady I love exactly what she asks for."

More aroused than she'd ever thought possible, she fell backward onto the bed.
Lifting her hips, she pushed her panties over her bottom and down her legs
before letting them fall open. Edward licked his lips at the realization that
momentarily, he would be licking hers. He lifted her foot and kissed his way up
her leg, stopping to suck her inner thigh. Just when Bella thought he'd never
touch her where she needed it most, he pushed two fingers inside her, and
moved his tongue to her clit.

"Can you suck it?" she whispered.

Not long after he complied, her gasps became moans.

"So close," she panted.

It wasn't long before she came undone, her words no longer intelligible. Edward
slid up her body, stopping only to taste her nipple before settling his hips
between her thighs. The moment she opened her eyes, he plunged into her.

She was hot and tight, and if the way her walls spasmed around his cock was any
indication, she'd kept her word. It was his turn to keep his. He pulled out almost
completely before slamming into her again.

And again.

And again.

As much as he wanted to make her climax again, he knew he wouldn't last much
longer.

Still inside her, he rolled onto his back. The view of her on top of him—her tits
bouncing as she rode his cock—was by far the most erotic sight he'd ever seen.
He reached forward and stroked her above where they joined. Her moans
intensified, and moments later he felt her tighten around him. She fell onto his
chest as he released inside her. For the next several minutes, she lay against
him, his hands in her hair and himself still in her.

He was the first to speak. "I think I already know the answer, but I'm going to
ask anyway. Did you keep your promise?"

Bella couldn't contain her smile. "I did. Twice, in fact. Though I should really
thank you for keeping yours; it's what enabled me to keep mine."

Edward wanted to ask her so many questions, but they could wait for another
time. He wanted to enjoy the feeling of finally holding the woman he loved, the
woman he would do his best to protect against any unnecessary pain—including
the fact that during the time they were dating, her ex-boyfriend impregnated his
ex-fiancée. Edward wondered briefly if by not telling Bella about the paternity of
Rose's baby, he was starting their relationship with a lie. He was about to tell her,
but then he remembered Bella's fake smoking and fake orgasms—both
fabrications designed to spare the feelings of others. Though a small voice inside
him warned that this situation was different, he fell asleep seconds later, too
content to care.