21

Bella sat at her desk in the back of her government class and tapped her nails impatiently. Today was her last final of the semester and she was over it. She had tried to study, but her ability to focus on her school work had been made impossible when all she wanted was to see her father again. Her perfectly healthy, alert father.

Pressing her lips together as a handful of her classmates trickled into the room followed by her professor, she watched as they carelessly settled in their desks, probably chatting about how they were going to going to head home for the winter break, enjoy their families, friends, blah, blah, blah. Bella envied their freedom.

"You have two hours to complete your final. Once you do, you will place your exam and scantron here," her professor said, gesturing to the corner of his desk, "and then you may leave. I will have your grades posted by the end of today. On a side note, I have enjoyed having each of you in my class over the past sixteen weeks."

While almost everyone replied humbly that they had enjoyed his class, Bella stifled the urge to roll her eyes. They weren't there to exchange pleasantries; they were there to take a final and move on. That's what young, carefree college students were supposed to be doing, wasn't it?

An hour and forty-five minutes later, Bella dropped her pencil into her backpack and yanked it off the floor before scrambling to her feet, grabbing her test and scantron, and hurried to the front of the room, where her teacher smiled as she placed it on top of the rest. All but her and two others had finished and left.

"Enjoy your break," he said, quietly and it took all her control not to laugh in his face. She didn't enjoy anything anymore. Life had beaten her down too much.

When Bella walked out of the classroom, she was surprised to find James leaning against the wall. Ever since he had taken Edward out for a night of drinking, she had done her best to avoid him. Something he hadn't made easy.

"How'd it go?" James asked, smiling wildly.

"Fine," she groused and attempted to walk past him, but stopped when he reached out and grabbed her arm. "Don't touch me."

"I'm sorry," he said, releasing her, but moving so that he was standing in front of her. "I just want a chance to talk."

"About what?" Bella cocked an eyebrow at him. "What could you possibly have to talk to me about? Could it be how you took my husband, who has a serious heart condition, out drinking to the point of drunkenness? Is that what you want to talk to me about?"

"Um, well, yeah," he mumbled. "I realize it was stupid, Bella. I just thought he needed to blow off some steam."

"Blow off some steam, huh?" Bella nodded. "I don't know what pisses me off more, James: that you took him drinking or that you didn't bother helping me."

"What do you mean?" he asked, reaching for her arm, but pulling his hand back when she took a half step backward.

"Edward needed to blow off some steam. He was stressed, but I wasn't? My family is falling apart, too. My . . ." Bella took a shaky breath as she tried not to cry. "I was fourteen years old when my world was torn apart. I wasn't expecting to have cancer, to lose my voice, to lose a big part of who I was. And for a long time, I went through the motions of living, but I cried myself to sleep every night. I hated being the freaky mute girl that nobody knew how to be around. And then Edward came into my life and for the first time, I found someone who didn't pull away from me because I couldn't speak. He was broken, I was broken, but somehow, we made each other whole. But that night, when you took him to blow off some steam, was the first time in a really long time that I felt like a nobody. See, James, Edward did need to blow off some steam, but so did I, because my family is imploding around me, too. But you didn't care about me that night, so don't stand there and pretend that you do now, either."

And leaving James standing there, Bella walked past him. She didn't know what he expected of her, but it would take more than an apology for her to forgive him.

—WH—

Edward was sitting on the couch when Bella entered their apartment. Two suitcases were next to the door and another was open on the coffee table. His eyes lifted to hers and he smiled, and for a moment, Bella found herself lost in the man she had fallen in love with. She wanted to believe that he wanted to change, that he would get help, but hope was an emotion that had burned her too many times.

"How'd your final go?" he asked, dropping handful of socks he had been folding into the suitcase.

"I think I did okay," she murmured, dropping her backpack next to the suitcases. "Wasn't nearly as hard as I expected, even though there were three essays at the end. Thought my hand was going to fall off by the time I was done writing."

Edward smiled. "Guess I'll know what to expect when I take his class next semester."

Bella hummed, but didn't say anything as she walked toward the fridge and pulled the door open, finding only a couple bottles of water left. "Wow. You were busy."

"Just figured the sooner we get packed, the faster we can get back to Forks," he said, the tone in his voice had her looking back at him. "I know you're anxious to see for yourself that Charlie's okay."

Once more, Bella found herself nodding. "It's stupid."

"It's not." Edward zipped the suitcase and moved it to the others before turning back to her. "I'd probably feel the same if it were my dad."

Bella wasn't sure what to say. It wasn't fair that her father had been brought back to her for the second time, yet Edward had never gotten to say goodbye to his mother and father. Logically, she knew his parents would have given their lives time and time again for him, but the guilt he carried weighed heavily on his shoulders.

"I think I got everything we need, but you might want to double check."

Bella bit the inside of her lip before saying, "I trust you."

"Do you?" he asked, his eyes widening.

"I want to," she said, knowing that's not what he needed to hear. But lying wasn't going to save their marriage, either. "I really want to."

"You will," he murmured, though whether he meant for her to hear him or not, she couldn't be sure. Clearing his throat, he spoke a little louder, "We should get going. It's going to be a long drive and the roads are going to be wet."

—WH—

The drive from Seattle to Forks felt like it took an eternity, yet before Bella knew it, they were pulling past the 'Welcome to Forks' sign. Edward had made awkward conversation during their first two hours, then they fell into an uneasy silence. Bella hated the distance between them, but had no idea how to fix it. She loved Edward, yet he scared her. His anger scared her. Her anger scared her. Everything scared her.

"Do you want to go to the hospital first, or the house?" Edward asked.

"Um." Bella paused. "Hospital, I guess. Don't know that I'm ready to face anyone else yet."

"Me either," he replied. "I still think we should just a hotel room."

"For the next month?" she scoffed with a shake of her head. "We can't afford that."

"Not sure we can afford to stay with Emmett and Rose, either," he quipped, and Bella knew he was right. "Or my brother and Esme. At least we don't have to worry about the wedding right now."

Bella hummed and shifted her attention out the window. Esme and Carlisle's decision to postpone their wedding didn't come as much of a surprise. Jasper refused to leave Chicago without Alice, and Alice wasn't going to be coming back to Forks anytime soon. Or ever, Bella suspected, and if Alice never came back, neither Edward nor Carlisle would forever themselves.

"I've been thinking," Edward started, drawing her attention back to him. "Maybe . . . maybe, I should, I don't know, take the semester off."

"What? Why?" Bella blurted out.

"I could get a real job," he mumbled as he pulled into a parking space in front of the hospital. He turned the car off, and shifted in the seat so that he was facing her. "With your grants and scholarships, and if I worked full time, you wouldn't have to do work study."

"If you quit—"

"Not quit, just take a semester or two off," he interrupted.

"If you quit," she continued, "you won't go back, Edward. And then . . ." Shaking her head, she let the words hang between them.

"Then what?" he pressed.

"You'll resent me even more than you already do," she confessed, knowing lying wouldn't help their relationship. "And don't sit there and deny that you do, because I hear the tone when you talk about my dad being back."

"It's not you that I resent," he said, quietly. "It's everything we have to deal with, you know? We're young, Bella. We shouldn't have to worry about our families going falling apart because we aren't here for them to take care of. It's . . . it's too much pressure on our shoulders."

"You're not wrong," she agreed. "But I don't want you to put off school for me. Edward, we can't keep letting everyone else make us feel like we're wrong for wanting a normal life."

"You mean Pix."

"Her," Bella admitted. "And Jasper, and Carlisle and Esme, Emmett and Rose. I love our family, but I love you more."

"You do?" he whimpered, shifting his tear filled green eyes up to hers. "After what I did, you still love me?"

"I do," she whispered, cupping his face between her hands and leaning toward him. "We're both a little fucked up right now, you know? We thought we go just move to Seattle and be Edward and Bella, two normal, married kids. We thought we could put your heart and my cancer behind us and just be like everyone else, but we can't. I realize that now, and I don't want lose you, but every time I go to class, or you go to class, I'm worry that the man I fell in love with, the one I vowed to spend the rest of my life with, isn't going to be the same one that comes back."

"I'm not that guy, Bella," Edward insisted.

"Maybe not right now, but what happens the next time you feel shit getting out of control?" she asked, taking a deep breath. "And it's not just you, Edward. I'm scared because I'm angry, too. All the time, and I don't want to lose you because I'm mad."

"I didn't realize you felt that way, too."

"Guess neither of us are good about being honest with how we feel." Bella dropped her hands into her lap and looked toward the entrance of the hospital. "I'd given up that my dad would ever come back to me. After last time, after . . ." She shook her head. "I'd given up and now he's back and healthy and . . . and I don't know. I feel very confused and angry."

"Maybe you need to find someone to talk to, as well," Edward suggested.

"Yeah, maybe."

Without another word, Bella pushed open the car door and climbed out. As she and Edward made their way into the hospital, to the elevator, and to the fifth floor, Bella wondered what their lives would have been like, had she not been the girl with cancer, and him not the boy with the broken heart.

Thank you for all the reviews.