Thank you for reading. All mistakes are mine.

Once

Chapter 4

"Every past used to be a future… once upon a time."

The Happily Ever After

BPOV

Edward and I began dating, cautiously at first. We both had unhappy marriages in our pasts, and a child who took first priority in our lives. Neither of us were looking for casual or fleeting hookups, so we took things slowly, learning to trust each other before we let our relationship move forward.

The first time we met for a get-acquainted coffee, he explained that he had sole custody of his ten year old daughter, born during a short and unhappy marriage with his college sweetheart. Her name was Elizabeth. She was very shy around strangers and had some developmental problems. He didn't elaborate further, and I didn't ask. I also learned that he was thirty-two, three years younger than me, had grown up and attended school in Chicago, and loved his job as a reporter. He was very close to his parents, both doctors, who moved to Seattle when he did, and his maternal grandparents, who still lived in Chicago.

Edward managed to pass the glowering Riley test.

A month after we began dating, he invited us to attend a Seattle Seahawk's game with him. He had four tickets, he explained, and asked Riley if he would like to bring a friend. His invitation earned my son's grudging acceptance. Two weeks later he took Riley with him to another game. This time they sat in the press box with other reporters and bonded over first down averages, pass completions, and game strategies. Riley quickly became Edward's biggest fan.

We were three months into our relationship when he finally opened up about his past and his daughter. Riley was spending the night with friends, and I had invited Edward over for dinner. As we worked together in the kitchen, I could tell he was nervous and something was clearly bothering him. After receiving only mumbled replies to my attempts at conversation, I finally turned the stove off, set the food aside, and led him to the couch.

"Talk, Edward," I demanded, pushing him to sit, before plopping myself next to him. "Whatever it is, just spit it out. Are you having second thoughts about dating me?"

"What? No, no, never; in fact, it's just the opposite." Edward shifted around so he could face me before taking my hands in his. "I have very strong feelings for you and I want to take this relationship to the next step. I… I want more with you, Bella; but this isn't about just me and what I want. It's about Elizabeth too."

I still couldn't understand why Edward was so nervous. He had spoken about Elizabeth several times. I knew she attended a private school and they had a full-time nanny. At times I wondered why he had not been more forthcoming about her problems; but I also knew he was a very private person. Just as he had his secrets, I, too, had mine. I had never really told him much about my past either. If we both wanted this relationship to move forward, we were going to have to be more open with each other.

Before I could respond to Edward's words, he picked up his phone that was lying on the coffee table in front of us. I watched as he unlocked it, opening a link to what was obviously an album of photographs. Scooting closer, he handed me the phone and told me about each one as I scrolled through them.

They were in chronological order, the first one a picture of a very young-looking Edward in a cap and gown standing between two older couples.

"High school graduation," he explained, "with my parents and grandparents, Carlisle and Esme Cullen and my Grandfather and Grandmother Platt."

"You're… " I couldn't stop the grin that split my face as I examined the image before me.

"Tall, skinny, uncoordinated, and a total geek," he laughed, interrupting me.

"Well, I was going to say adorable."

"No, no I wasn't," he laughed again, shaking his head at me. "I was terrible at sports, shy and awkward around girls. I liked reading, liked words. I even wrote a little poetry – in secret, of course – thinking I would turn them into songs and be a famous someday. Or at least maybe impress a few girls."

The next couple of photos are of Edward in college, one in front of the iconic Cobb Gate at the University of Chicago, and another with a group of friends at some outdoor college social. The next swipe reveals an image of a smiling Edward with his arm draped around a young blonde woman standing next to him.

"Jane," he answered to my unspoken question. "We met at the end of our sophomore year. I was instantly smitten, especially when I finally got up the nerve to ask her out and she accepted. She was my first real girlfriend, my first real everything, in fact. I took her home to meet my parents that summer and a year later we were engaged. We married in June right after we graduated."

"She's beautiful," I whispered, already a bit intimidated by her perfect blonde perfection.

"I guess," he said, a harsh undertone to his words, "but it's hard for me to look at her now, knowing how things would change just a few years later."

The next picture is of their wedding. I don't look at the bride, focusing instead on a tuxedo clad Edward. It's clear he's beginning to mature into the handsome man he is today.

Elizabeth makes her appearance in the next photo. A smiling Edward holds a pink-wrapped, sleeping infant in his arms. His joy fills the screen. There is one more photo with Jane. Her face is turned away, a frown marring her features as she sits beside Edward who is holding a slightly older Elizabeth in his lap.

The next few photos are all of Elizabeth. Edward has added a caption and date to each. He's documented his daughter's life in six month increments. I watch as she becomes a miniature version of her mother. Delicate features, curly pale blonde hair, upward slanting, startling blue eyes that never look at the camera, full pink lips that never smile.

"Down syndrome," I whispered.

"Yes," Edward answered, confirming what the camera had revealed. "A fairly severe case. She was extremely weak and had difficulty learning to walk. Her immune system is compromised and we have to watch her very carefully."

"Jane was mortified, embarrassed that she had given birth to a child that was, in her opinion, "less than perfect." She rejected Elizabeth from the start, wouldn't hold her, wouldn't care for her, absolutely refused to breast-feed her."

"From the beginning my parents were, and still are, very involved in her welfare. As soon as she was born, they insisted on scheduling a multitude of medical tests to evaluate her condition and plan her care. Elizabeth was still in the neonatal intensive care unit when we started the genetic testing and Jane left. I came home from the hospital one day to find her gone. She had packed all her belongings, emptied our bank accounts, maxed out our credit cards and just left. On the kitchen table was a legal document relinquishing all her parental rights."

Even after ten years, the anger was still evident in Edward's voice. I watched quietly as he took several deep breaths, a muscle twitching in his tightly clenched jaw. When he had calmed himself a bit, he continued.

"I don't know how much you know about the medical causes of Down Syndrome?" he asked, glancing at me.

Although my education includes some knowledge of the syndrome, I'm not an expert. When I shake my head no, he explains. "It's caused by a full or partial extra copy of chromosome 21. In very rare cases, called translocation, that extra copy is passed on to the child from one of the parents who is a carrier of the translocated chromosome. Genetic testing can identify which parent and that knowledge can be used to take precautions in the future if the parents want more children. My parents were adamant that we have those tests done to find the carrier."

When Edward paused in his explanation, I had to wonder if he is thinking how best to share bad news with me.

"So, do you carry the extra chromosome, Edward?"

"No," he finally answered, "and neither does Jane."

It took a moment for me to understand the meaning of his words. "But that would mean that… "

"I'm not Elizabeth's biological father."

"What? I mean… but you were married. Are you saying Jane cheated on you, or did something else happen?"

"Oh, she cheated all right," he answered bitterly, "seems she was having an affair with her high school boyfriend the whole time I knew her."

I studied this beautiful, educated, charming man in front of me, wondering why anyone would go to such lengths to deceive him; extended dating, an engagement, a wedding, it all seemed ridiculous. "Why?" Was all I could manage to whisper.

It took Edward a moment to answer. He clenched his hands and then ran them roughly through his hair. Finally with a sigh, he answered, "Money."

One word that says so much, can mean so much. I had so many questions, but I waited for him to explain.

Edward leaned his head against the back of the couch, stretched his long legs in front of him, a heavy resigned sigh leaving his chest. He turned to look at me, studying my face intently when he finally spoke.

"I've told you both of my parents are doctors." When I nodded he continued. "So just that fact alone would make them fairly well-to-do; but my mother is a Platt. She's the only child of one of the oldest and richest families in Chicago, and I'm her only child, the only grandchild. I'm rich, Bella, not just well-off, but rich – disgustingly… filthy… rich."

"Jane was smart; I have to give her that. She played me so well, our whole three year relationship was an expertly planned fraud. Even with the prenup that my grandparents insisted upon, she would have been a wealthy woman when she eventually divorced me. The longer our marriage lasted, the bigger her settlement would be; there were even provisions for extra funds for each child born during our marriage. Infidelity was the only clause that cut her off completely."

"So when you started the genetic testing?"

"Yes," he nodded to my question. "She knew it was only a matter of time before the truth was revealed. There wasn't an overly large amount of cash in our bank accounts, but there was still plenty. She managed to put together a nice tidy sum before she left town."

Edward's story explained so much about his behavior: his cautious approach to our dating; his reluctance to share too much information about his family and personal life; his over protectiveness with Elizabeth. As I mulled over what he has just revealed to me, I couldn't help but compare him to Mike. "You're raising someone else's child." I whispered to myself.

"No!" I heard him exclaim beside me.

Startled, I turned towards him.

"No, Bella, no! Elizabeth is my child! I loved her before she was born. I loved her when they first placed her in my arms in the hospital. I loved her when she was diagnosed, and I love her everyday that she is in my life. She may not be the child of my body; but she is the child of my heart."

Mortified by what I had just said out loud, I began stammering an apology as I stared at the man sitting beside me. The contrast between Edward and Mike was like day and night. They could not have been more different. This unconditional love for a child, any child, was what fatherhood really meant.

Rising from the sofa, I walked over to the bookshelf, picking up a copy of my book that was resting there. "I'm sorry for what I just said," I apologized as I handed him the copy. "Perhaps this will help explain my reaction. My story is in there, page seventy."

I watched as Edward read, frowning from time to time, emotions flickering across his face. He closed the book, set it down, then turned to me. I dreaded what he would say. Would he compare me to his ex-wife, a cheating partner who betrayed his trust? Would he decide to end our fledging relationship, finding me unworthy to meet his daughter and family?

"Your ex is an asshole."

So unexpected were his words, that I couldn't help the loud guffaw that escaped my lips or the silly giggle that followed. "That's not exactly what I thought you would say."

"You thought I would blame you, didn't you?" His voice was soft, kind, understanding when I nodded my head in agreement.

"Bella, you were young, inexperienced and controlled by your asshole of an ex and your asshole of a father. Nothing that you did compares to what Jane did. We all make mistakes or do things we later regret; but what I don't understand is how Mike could abandon Riley without a moment's hesitation. How could he just dismiss ten years of a relationship with a small child who loved him? All over the world parents are loving and caring for step-children, adopted children, foster children, abandoned children. It doesn't matter if they are our biological children or not. They are all worthy of love and care. So I'll say it again, your ex is an asshole!"

And then Edward leaned over and kissed me… really kissed me. Kissed me as if his life and mine depended upon the meeting of our lips at just that moment. Kissed me like I was the most precious thing in the world to him.

We smiled at each other when we drew apart. Happy smiles full of joy and acceptance, devotion and expectations, and that's when I knew I was falling in love with Edward Cullen. Taking him by the hand, I led him to my bedroom.

—O—

Two days later Edward took me to his home to meet his daughter.

Six months later I became Mrs. Edward Cullen.

Two months later we celebrated again when adoption papers made Elizabeth my legal daughter and Riley happily gave up the last name he had grown to resent and became Riley Cullen. We were a family, united by name; but more importantly by love.

—O—

Riley had known who his biological father was for a couple of years. He was thirteen when he approached me and asked for the truth. I told him everything, answering his questions as completely as I could. His resentment towards Mike only intensified after he learned the events surrounding our divorce. We even discussed legally changing our last names. He hated being a Newton; I didn't want to be a Swan or a Newton. Becoming a Cullen made us both very happy.

He was seventeen when he decided to contact Paul. For the first few months they corresponded by text until Paul asked if he could meet him. A few months later, they finally met. Paul and Rachel had several children by then, and they all welcomed him into their family. Riley became the big brother to two half-sisters and two half-brothers. They celebrated with us when Riley signed a letter of intent to play football at the University of Washington and again four years later when he was drafted by the Seattle Seahawks. His extended family made a very loud and very noisy cheering section at every home game.

It was after one home game that he was approached by the man he had once called Dad. Mike Newton had recognized Riley from an appearance on a Seattle sports show and decided to seek him out. The intervening years had not been kind to Mike, he had aged badly. Balding and pot-bellied, he barely resembled the handsome young man Riley remembered. He did have the decency to tell Riley he was sorry for how he had treated him. Riley accepted his apology, but warned Mike he was not welcomed anywhere near his real family and to leave him alone. We never saw him again.

—O—

I was privileged to be Elizabeth's mother for fifteen years. It took her awhile to overcome her shyness with me. Hiding behind that timid exterior was the sweetest, most loving, and happiest person I had ever known. Even when she was not well, she graced us with her smile and her laughter. The first time she called me "Mommy" is a memory I cherished for the rest of my life.

She loved Riley immediately. She adored him, and he treated her like the special person she was. The bond between them was stronger than any legal paper could create.

Her health began to deteriorate in her early twenties. Despite the best care that the medical profession could provide, she passed away at twenty-five, surrounded by a mother, father, brother and grandparents who loved and appreciated her.

—O—

Edward and I had more children, over a hundred of them in fact. With more than enough financial resources at our disposal, we became foster parents to infants, small children and teenagers who needed a safe shelter at a critical time in their lives. Some only stayed for a short time, just long enough for their parents to solve whatever problems had caused their separation. Some stayed much longer, until extended family could be found or until adoptions were finalized. And some stayed forever. They found their place in our home and our lives and became a permanent part of our family. Short term or long term… they were all children of our hearts.

—O—

My story began as all good fairy tales do, with "once upon a time."

It contained all the elements of the classic fairy tale: the missing mother who for some reason leaves her child to fend for herself; the cruel parent/step-parent who mistreats the innocent young girl; a bad or evil wolf/ogre/witch who seeks to harm the young woman; and the handsome, daring Prince who rescues the threatened maiden just in the nick of time. Somewhere along the telling of my story, real life interfered and the fairy tale morphed into reality. A reality that contained both sadness and happiness.

Edward, although an absolutely wonderful man, was no Prince Charming, and I was certainly no Cinderella or fairy tale Princess. We were human, with all our faults, and foibles, and failings. Sometimes we disagreed, sometimes we argued; but always we loved, and we were happy.

Although we may not have lived 'ever after' we certainly lived 'happily.'

Perhaps, in the end, we did have our own special fairy tale after all.

.

.

.

AN: Thank you!