Bad, bad butterflies in my chest

There's something I gotta confess

Yes, somebody's stuck in my head

~ Camila Cabello, Bad Kind of Butterflies

EPOV - Present

Every family had their fuck up. The black sheep of the group that was the topic of conversation every holiday, without fail. Some were worse than others. The black sheep of one family could be the kid that ended up being a lawyer instead of a doctor, while others were the notorious drug dealer or college drop out.

I had the honor of being the Cullen family black sheep. I started my reign when I was eighteen and held it up ever since. Got my girlfriend pregnant the summer after I graduated high school. Got married to a woman I only kind of thought I could maybe fall in love with. Tried to follow my mother into acting for a few years and sucked royally at it. Had a string of odd hosting gigs after realizing acting wasn't for me.

Professionally, I got my act together for a while. I had always had an easy time talking to anyone and my sarcasm was often mixed with humor so late-night television was a perfect fit for me. Even then, though, I knew I hadn't earned my job. Historically, there was a line of succession when it came to hosting The Tonight Show and I was pretty sure my last name threw a wrench in that plan for me when I was twenty-seven.

I did love it, though. And I thought, even if I hadn't earned it in the first place, I could prove that I deserved it eventually. Because even if I hated the politics and hoops of the entertainment industry, there were some genuinely talented and special people occupying it. And it was my job to talk to them and help the world get to know them, and I loved it.

Personally, my life had always been a mess. Irina and I got along fine, but we weren't in love. We both pretended for years, maybe hoping it would happen eventually after we spent enough time together, but it never did. Especially when I knew what love really was.

I never had a good grasp on it romantically, but the second I held two crying babies, I knew the basics of it. Because they could shit in my shoe or cry all night and I still loved them. They pulled at my hair and screamed when I didn't give them candy before dinner and I still would've done anything to keep them safe. They turned into a couple of hormonal, confrontational teenagers and I still wanted to do everything I could to protect them from the world.

I tried so hard to keep it all together. For those two crying babies. For my family. I tried to ditch that title of Cullen family fuck up even when my wife ended up living with my – former – best friend and my ratings were down. It all felt like it was held together by a string, and I felt like the idea that I was happily married was that string. The second our divorce was on the table all hell would break loose.

Irina would hold nothing back to try and look like the victim in the situation.

My kids' names and pictures would be scoured across the internet.

My show would probably get put on an indefinite hiatus until my personal life wasn't more interesting than the person I was interviewing.

Eventually my kids seemed happy and my family stopped gossiping about my life every holiday. Things got easy and I got used to the arrangement I had with Irina and Demetri.

Then, I walked into my dressing room after finishing a show and this tiny spitfire of a brunette called me an asshole and told me my show was shit. And, in my attempt to try and make everyone happy, I destroyed the one woman who constantly fought for me.

Yes, part of it was because she was paid to do it, but she cared. She saw through every line I tried to give her and she worked day and night to save my career. And she was so fucking beautiful I couldn't see straight when she was close. I could blame that on every way I had fucked things up with her, but it was all on me.

I cracked that night in New York and I convinced her that there was nothing wrong with enjoying each other. She worked tirelessly to solve every one of my problems and I did nothing but cause hers. The story was a jumbled mess in my mind, no matter how many times I tried to figure out where it all went wrong. Or right. I still wasn't sure.

-B-

Past

"Dibs," Masen said, coming to stand behind me as I watched Isabella drive away.

"No," I told him, closing the door and walking back inside.

"You can't break the rules of dibs, Dad."

I sighed, leaning over the dark kitchen counter. My son truly was a walking hormone. It was bad enough dealing with the long showers and locked doors and conversations with his friends I greatly regretted walking in on. I also had the other side of the equation; Lucy who was frustratingly beautiful and asked me once a week if she could go out. On a date out. Which wasn't fucking happening after the things I had heard her brother's friends talking about.

"She's twenty-two, Mase. It's illegal." Parenting rule number one was the moment you told a teenager they couldn't do something, they did it. I was hoping the whole illegal tactic would work better than a flat-out refusal.

"But…" he muttered, frowning and probably trying to find some loophole. "Damn. I mean, did you see her ass?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, pinching the bridge of my nose because, unfortunately, I had seen her ass. And it was spectacular.

Last night I turned around in my dressing room and she was sitting there. A tiny little thing with silky chocolate hair that I wanted knotted between my fingers and delicate, pale skin that wasn't often found around Los Angeles. She had dark coffee eyes that seemed guarded and slightly insecure. And she had an ass that I was pretty sure would fit perfectly in the palm of my hand.

The fact that my son had noticed said ass made me feel even more like an ass. If I decided to work with her, I was going to have to remind myself that she was twelve years younger than me and certainly didn't want someone sliding closer to forty every day ogling her. After today, that if was a when and part of me was devastated that meant I had to keep my thoughts away from the more exciting scenarios where Isabella was concerned.

Putting aside my blatant and obvious attraction to her, she seemed good at her job. Thorough. It was equal parts refreshing and infuriating that she had called me out on all of my shit in a span of thirty minutes.

My show was shit and I was on the brink of being replaced.

My marriage was a sham and holding me back from moving on with my life.

I was lying to everyone, myself included, when I said everything was fine.

They were all things I already knew, and most of them problems I had come to terms with. My marriage and my personal life were an intricate web of lies and fake smiles. It was a fucked-up situation that I wasn't all that happy about. But, it had been seven years and I was used to it. Complacency and comfort were powerful things.

I was furious that I had let the show get to this point. And that I needed a publicist to come in and tell me it had gotten so bad. I knew it wasn't doing as well as it once was, but shows went through lulls all of the time. According to Isabella, mine had been in one for years and it was all my doing.

Once she left and I had time to think, I was starting to realize she was right. Two years was the timeline she gave, and I didn't have to do the math to realize it probably started right about when I tried to file for divorce.

Just remembering the threats she hurdled at me that night was infuriating. I didn't love the woman and had only the basic amount of respect for her, but I never thought she'd stoop as low as to hold a custody agreement over my head. And I realized I might not be as complacent and comfortable in the situation as I once was.

The whole thing was fucked. Demetri had been my best friend since I was ten. We spent weekends at each others houses and he came on family vacations with us. He pointed out the pretty blond in Spanish class junior year of high school. Then, ten years later I found him fucking my wife in my own home.

I shook my head of the memories, knowing all too well they would get me nowhere. Two more years.

I could save the show, though. Maybe. It was the one thing in my life that was mine and I wanted to keep it that way. I could curb my attraction to Isabella, because I was realizing I might need her more than I thought. She was young and gorgeous and probably had a line of men jockeying for her attention. I was middle aged, married, and the father of twins. One of which was currently harboring an equally inappropriate on the girl.

She was passionate about her job, that much was obvious after the way she stormed out of here. I was realizing my life could use that fire she seemed to bring.

-B-

There was nothing that soured my mood more than getting a call from security that my wife was on her way in. Irina and I separated right around the time I started the show. We kept up appearances. She would come in from time to time in the beginning, but it had been at least a year, maybe two since the last time she came in for a taping.

"You have a publicist," Irina said, gliding through the door without bothering to knock.

"Yes," I sighed. Everything was always very dramatic where Irina was concerned. It was a trait that got stronger with age for her. In high school she was laid back and relaxed. The kind of girl who didn't mind spending the afternoon on a hike and didn't care if her plans got cancelled at the last minute.

Now, all hell broke loose if her manicurist wasn't available when she needed her.

Irina sat in the chair opposite of me, ice blue eyes glaring in my direction. "Are you going to tell me why you sent her to accost Demetri and I and force us into signing NDAs?"

I squeezed the bridge of my nose, an early morning headache already forming. Bella had been working for me for five days. In those five days I had managed to keep my thoughts professional. Mostly. While we were at work.

So far, it had been a somewhat easy adjustment. She approved scripts and typed away at her computer non-stop. She stood beside Todd, one of the show's producers, and drew an adorable smile over her face every night when I walked out to remind me to smile. But, apparently, she had been much busier than I realized.

"I didn't send her out to do anything," I told her.

"Well then, you need to reign her in a little. What did you tell her to make her think she needed to trap us with NDAs, Edward?"

"I told her the truth, Irina," I snapped, equal parts angry at Irina for overreacting and upset that my life had become a web of NDAs.

The door opened again, this time Bella walking through. Freezing when she noticed Irina.

"You made Irina and Demetri sign NDAs?" I grunted out, frowning in Bella's direction.

"I didn't make them sign anything," Bella responded with a shrug.

"Isabella – " I snapped, running a frustrated hand through my hair. "I don't want a life run by NDAs and contracts. I told you I would cooperate but this is crossing a fucking line."

My mother and father spent their entire careers playing the Hollywood game. Smiling for pictures and saying what people wanted to hear. Being the people the world wanted them to be so they didn't get fucked over in the process. Having their every decision run by a publicist to see how the public would react to an announcement or film or anything.

I had seen it happening my whole life, and I never wanted that to be me. I wanted to do what I wanted, when I wanted. Maybe it sounded a little immature, but watching my parents plan when and how they could tell people she was pregnant with Alice when I was eight just… confused the hell out of me. It wasn't a game I was interested in.

I was well aware that I was a fucking hypocrite for feeling like that kind of lifestyle was torture and having the job that I did. But, I liked to think my job was more about the people than anything else. At least, it used to be.

"Well, all due respect Mr. Cullen, if that was the case then you got in the wrong business. Do you know how many people would kill for your job? How fast they would exploit your marriage situation to benefit them?"

Bella's way of thinking was all about the game, what the other players were going to do. "I understand, technically, she's your wife. But she's also living down the street with another man. She's not my client. I don't care about her or her feelings or her reputation.

"I've tried to take things slow, because I know you're trying. But this," she continued, waving a hand between Irina and I. "Is going to blow up in your face eventually. I'm just trying to do my fucking job and put that off for as long as possible."

As the man paying her salary, I should have been pissed at how she talked to me. As the man with an unhealthy attraction to her, I thought she was sexy as hell. And, as the man who had been pushing my own needs back for years, I found it oddly refreshing to have someone watching my back.

-B-

Present

I had never seen her cry. Granted, we weren't in many situations where tears were warranted. But, hell, her step-brother nearly broke her nose and I wasn't sure if she ever shed a tear the entire night over it. It was the karma I deserved, though, being the reason for her voice cracking and the one, single tear sliding down her cheek before she shoved it away angrily.

Bella hadn't argued when I led her through the parking garage, toward my Mercedes. I held her door open and she fell inside without a word.

The drive was silent and I had to keep my hand gripped firmly on the gear shift to keep from grabbing hers. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. I had so many ideas, every grand gesture in the book ready to go to get her back when the time was right. Somehow, yet again, I had managed to fuck up.

Once parked in the driveway I managed to get to Bella's door before she opened it. She looked heartbreakingly uncomfortable, arms crossed over her chest and a deep frown on her lips. When I held the front door open for her, she hesitated.

"Um, are Lucy and Masen here?" she asked quietly.

"No," I responded quickly. "They're at school."

"Oh," she mumbled. "Right."

There had been a time when she would walk through that door with a bright smile on her face. She would grab my hand and we would stumble into the living room for a glass of wine. Now, she stood uncomfortably in the doorway with unsure eyes and I fucking hated myself for it.

"Living room?" I asked quietly, gesturing for her to go ahead.

Bella nodded, following me and dropping herself on the couch in the living room with a sigh.

I went to the adjoining kitchen and grabbed her a bottle of water. When I turned around, I was overwhelmed with a sense of déjà vu. Bella on the couch, head in her hands was eerily similar to how I found her in the middle of the night after the incident with her step-brother.

As fucked up as that situation was, that was the night I stopped fighting. It had been weeks of back and forth, of us trying to find some kind of compromise between us. Bella was excellent at her job and I was reluctant to the whole publicity thing. I was trying to balance saving my job with keeping my family happy all while lusting after the woman working herself non-stop to help me.

But, fuck, I just didn't care after that night. I didn't care that she was only twenty-two or that I practically signed her paychecks. I had gotten a tiny taste at who she was outside of the laptops and press releases and I was desperate for more.

I didn't just want her in my bed at that point. I wanted to comfort her and keep her safe and make her smile.

Looking at her now, months later in the aftermath of it all, not caring about the consequences might have been my biggest fuck up of all.

-B-

Past

I was screwed. In the very good sense of the word, and the very bad sense of the word. Ignoring every ounce of logic in my brain, I could convince myself the good way far outweighed the bad way. Because I had a tiny little brunette with her head buried in my shoulder. She had a leg thrown over mine and an arm across my chest.

I knew all of the things I had so desperately wondered about her since the moment I saw her. I knew how her skin felt beneath my fingers and I still had her taste on my tongue. I brushed my fingers through her hair as she slept and traced gentle patterns along her arm with my other hand just because I could.

Tonight had far surpassed any fantasy I had that starred the woman in my arms, but it did nothing to dull the ache I had for her. Knowing I was the only one that had ever gotten to experience her… taste her… watch her come… it was addicting. It would only get better, too, because I would have her whimpering my name again right now if I didn't know she was probably sore and uncomfortable.

We were still screwed. As much as I knew stories about an affair with my publicist would hurt my career, they would decimate Bella's. And anyone that spent ten minutes with the woman knew she lived for her job.

This town was full of secrets, though. Hell, I had kept my separation and every other woman I had been with since a secret for seven years. Even as scenarios floated through my mind, I had to remind myself that Bella and I were at different stages in our lives. She was young and inexperienced and sure as hell not looking to tie herself to someone twelve years her senior with twins.

Still, we both ended up here. We weren't in some power exchange position, and I sure as hell hoped she knew it wasn't something like that. She was attracted to me. I was attracted to her. We were consenting adults who could enjoy each other while we wanted.

She certainty didn't need or want my baggage and my life prevented us from having anything more than this for at least two years. We could enjoy ourselves while we wanted and there was nothing wrong with that.

At least, that's what I convinced myself of by morning.

-B-

She was trying to kill me. There was no other reason for a dress that was held together by a couple of strings and was cut low enough to see the tiny cluster of freckles between her breasts. The real kicker was she was wearing the dress to go on a date.

With another man.

Which she had every right to do, especially considering I walked around with a wedding band around my finger every day.

She told me it was just to placate her roommate, make it so she didn't ask any questions about canceling at the last minute, but it would happen eventually. Bella would meet someone who could take her out to dinner and call her his and not have to hide her away. The further we got into this little arrangement we had, the more pissed off I was that it couldn't be me.

As much as I tried to convince myself that this was just sex, it wasn't. She was under my skin in a way no other woman ever was. And, after New York, I knew it wasn't just the sex that had me drawn to her. As fan-fucking-tastic as it was.

I thought she had regretted it for a while. Once my family showed up, maybe it made her realize what we were really doing. She walked around with those sad chocolate eyes and I hated them. I realized that I couldn't have it both ways, and I didn't want to lose her.

So, I gave her an out because having a little slice of Bella, even if only in a professional capacity, was better than losing her for good. A decision I was shocked at myself for making because the sex was mind-blowing. And I hadn't had enough of her. Never would, probably.

She didn't take it, though. Which, to me, made her mine. For now.

I had never been the possessive, over bearing type. Hell, I was fine with the woman carrying the title of my wife living with another man for the last seven years. But picturing her, in that dress, out with another man had me on edge, fuming with jealousy, from the moment she left.

Before I got in my car to head home, a good hour after Bella had originally left, I sent her a few quick texts. Partly to remind her she was coming to me when the night was over, and partly to remind myself.

I can't wait to have you naked.

Begging for my cock.

Screaming my name.

Driving wasn't the distraction I needed it to be, and I was an impatient man when it came to Bella. Not long after I texted her I pulled up her name on the car's control panel, not caring if I was interrupting her date.

When she answered I was met with loud music and muffled conversations. "Hold on!"

A minute later the noise was gone, so suddenly I thought I might have lost the connection until her mumbled "Sorry."

"Are you finished?" I grunted, still uncomfortably frustrated with her out with another man as I pulled into my neighborhood.

"Yes," she breathed out. "I'll be there in half an hour."

Once I got home I went straight for the bar, pouring myself a generous glass of scotch. I spent seven goddamn years fine with the state of my life, as fucked as it was. No, most men wouldn't want to stand aside while their wife lived with another man, but I was stuck. Irina would become a living hell once I filed for divorce, and I didn't want Masen or Lucy in the middle of that. And I knew I owed her… everything.

But, Bella, she made me feel like myself. Want a life of my own, with her by my side. A life I couldn't have.

I heard her pull into the driveway, eying her up and down through the glass door before I let her in. With the door locked behind her, I finished my scotch in one swig and dropped the glass on the table beside the door.

"What was his name?" I asked, turning to face her.

"What?"

My jaw tensed. "The name of the man you were just out on a date with, Isabella. What was his name?"

"Oh," she muttered.

Oh. She had me raging with jealously all night and oh was the response I got.

"Um, Alec."

Alec. Fucker.

I lifted her chin gently, my thumb tracing over her bottom lip. I knew what Alec was probably thinking the whole time he had her attention. They were the same thoughts I had for a month before I got the real thing.

Bella sucked my thumb into her mouth slowly, as if she were thinking of the same thing I was.

"You're going to be the death of me," I groaned, pushing my finger further into her mouth, suppressing another groan when her tongue wrapped around it. I pulled my hand away, knowing I had bigger plans for the night.

Bella tugged on my tie, pulling me down to her level for a kiss, and I was done waiting. With my hands around her thighs I had her in my arms. She was a tiny thing and easy to carry upstairs. Her teeth sunk into my bottom lip and my hands squeezed her ass in response, earning myself a rewarding squeak.

Any guilt I ever had about taking her virginity was long gone, especially as she tugged furiously at my clothes. She was so new to sex, but never apprehensive after that first night. There was never an ounce of shyness or awkwardness between us these days, not like in the first few weeks of working together.

With my chest bare I turned her around, tugging her back against my front. My hands were greedy, one covering grasping her breast over the thin material of her dress and the other sliding between her legs.

"You're mine," I grunted, visions of her with faceless men consuming me, knowing it was only a matter of time before she found one of them less of a hassle than I was.

She nodded, her head falling back against my shoulder when I slid two fingers inside of her.

"Mine," I repeated, more to myself than to her.

-B-

I couldn't remember it happening, not exactly. I remembered that it was the night of my birthday. The next day, technically, I supposed. I woke up in the middle of the night to soft snores muffled against my chest. Looked down at the mess of chestnut hair all over the place and I knew she was one of the most important people in my life now.

I loved her. Every hair on her head and freckle on her skin. I loved how she sometimes stumbled over her own words and how she was so driven to do her job as well as she could. I loved that she seemed to be comfortable being herself with me because I knew her childhood had affected the way she acted around people.

She was still my publicist, though. Still the twenty-two-year old who had high hopes for her career and life that didn't include being tied down with a man twelve years older than her with two kids. And a wife.

Realizing I loved her was the kiss of death for us. From that moment on, I wanted more every day and every day I could feel myself losing her. She showed up drunk and sad at midnight, looking so angry at herself when she told me you make things better. Lucy and Masen caught us in my parent's basement and their anger at the situation wasn't something I was prepared for.

I had fucked up a lot of things in my life, but I always thought I had been a good father. They had food on their plates every night and anything they could have wanted. They had freedom to do what they wanted, within reason, because they never gave me a reason not to trust them.

But, the way they reacted to Bella and I made me realized I had fucked up being a father without even realizing it. They thought our arrangement was normal. Good. Because I made them believe it. I pushed that happy, normal family façade on everyone to try and save my kids and myself from a messy, drawn out, dramatic divorce and now they thought that was how life should be.

Dinner's with Mom and her boyfriend were normal.

Weekends at Dad's were the usual.

Weekends at Dad's with his girlfriend were not acceptable.

In my effort to keep my children as happy and protected as possible, I had probably ruined their concept of a normal, happy relationship as well. Fuck, if they thought of Bella as the homewrecker in this situation I had royally screwed up somewhere.

I had so many problems and no idea how to fix any of them. The one person I wanted to ask had closed in on herself again. She would stand awkwardly in the door of my office and ask me a question, or stumble over her words when Masen and Lucy were around.

Every night I would lie awake and try and come up with a plan. Something that kept everyone happy. In every scenario I had, someone I loved what hurt. I should've known, though, that the smart little brunette that accosted me in my dressing room that first night would have a plan. She always did.

She sat across from me in my bedroom, pulling papers out of that monster of a bag she carried everywhere before starting. "A lot of what I'm about to say probably won't come across great because of the fact that we're sleeping together. But, that doesn't change the fact that as your publicist and, hopefully, as a friend I want you to be happy."

Friend. The word rolled around in my mind and I didn't like it. She was obviously nervous and uncomfortable, fiddling with the stack of papers in her hands. Her nerves made me nervous.

"A few weeks ago, your mother and sister invited me to lunch. They told me everything," she said softly. "That you nearly filed for divorce years ago, that Irina's basically blackmailing you with your children. Your mother is scared you might get back together with her once Masen and Lucy turn eighteen."

My eyes widened, heartbeat picking up. There were a lot of things wrong with what she was saying, including my meddling mother, but the most important was that she thought I would ever get back together with Irina. "Hell will freeze over before I – "

"I know," Bella said sympathetically. "Everyone knows you've made yourself miserable for years to try and make your kids' lives easier, but you can't keep going like this, Edward."

It wasn't something I didn't already know, but it didn't change the fact that I didn't know how to fix any of it. Without losing something or someone that I loved. A divorce could lead to even less time with my kids, but possibly more time with Bella if I could somehow convince her I was worth her time. Keeping things as they were meant our relationship would never be more than an affair, but I would have an okay amount of time with my children.

Bella leaned over, handing me a hefty stack of papers and files. "This is kind of a game plan. Press releases, statements, worst-case-scenario headlines and such and what your response could be to them. I can't predict the future, but it'll get bad. You know that, it's why you put it off for so long. But, Masen and Lucy are sixteen and you deserve to move on with your life."

God, I wanted to. Move on. With her, if she'd let me. So fucking bad. "Bella, I – I can't," I groaned.

"Yes, you can."

My eyes shot up to her, because she made it sound so simple even when it wasn't. It wasn't just the fear of my kids getting dragged through a messy divorce that kept me with Irina for so long. It was the knowledge that I nearly made the biggest fuck up of my life and Irina was there to keep it from happening.

We weren't right for each other, that much was blatantly obvious. But, we made a couple of amazing kids together. Kids I selfishly asked her to get rid of as an angry eighteen-year-old.

It was the biggest regret of my life, that conversation with Irina. I was young and scared but that didn't matter. I would never be able to repay Irina enough for not listening to me, even if that meant my own misery for eighteen years while those kids grew up.

The couch dipped next to me after admitting as much to Bella. "You don't owe her anything, Edward."

I shook my head, even though I was starting to realize that this was another situation to add to the fuck up pile.

"Yes, it was a wonderful thing that Irina didn't do what you told her to and I'm sure you've thanked her in a million different ways for that. Anyone that knows you knows that you love those kids more than anything else in the world. But, all of that doesn't mean you have to sit back and punish yourself for the rest of your life for a stupid fight you had when you were eighteen."

I never told anyone my initial reaction. I always assumed anyone who knew would think I was just as pigheaded and selfish as I thought I was. Maybe it was a little masochistic, my idea that I owed Irina my last name or the money or the easy life because of the decision she made.

Gentle thumbs stroked underneath my eyes. "If anyone deserves to be happy, it's you, Edward."

You make me happy. I thought immediately. And, Christ, if I could really go through with whatever plan she had in this stack of papers… I leaned into her, frowning when she quickly stood up.

"That's… that's the other thing I have to talk to you about," she mumbled, eyes on the ground. "We can't… see each other like that anymore."

My breath caught in my throat, mind in a sudden panic where my thoughts were an uncontrollable mess.

"I know your divorce, if you choose to go through with it, might not go all that smoothly and I don't want to cause you any issues. And… You don't need me hovering around the theater every day anymore. I already talked to Newton about it and I'll start working from the office again Monday. Your show is good, your writers are good, and you know what you have to do, now."

All I could do was frown at her as she grabbed her bag off of the floor.

"I understand if you want someone else to handle all of that," she said quickly, motioning toward the stack of papers. "I think my job is pretty safe so if you want to request someone else… I understand. All of that is yours, theirs if they want to use it."

Confused, I stood in front of her, gently grabbing her hand. "Just because I won't see you every day… I still want you, Bella."

She pulled her hand away quickly. "I can't," she choked out, her voice cracking.

"Why?" I countered desperately.

"Because I love you," she blurted out. She sniffled and angrily wiped a tear away and all I could do was stare at her. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for ruining everything. I know this was just sex and I'm not telling you this to make you feel guilty or anything. I didn't make that plan because I had some grand ideas of you leaving her and choosing me, so please don't look at it like that."

Like the true asshole that I was, my words were caught on my tongue and all I could do was stare at her. Because that… that wasn't even a possibility in my mind.

"It was those fucking butterflies… I didn't know what they meant and I didn't realize until it was too late and now it's just kind of killing me every day," she snapped. "I'm sorry."

There it was. My newest, biggest fuck up.

Since New York, she thought it was just sex for me. She thought she was convenient and now that she wasn't working in the theater I wouldn't care to find her anymore. Snippets of her entire speech ran through my mind.

You can't keep going like this.

You deserve to move on with your life.

If anyone deserves to be happy, it's you.

I didn't make that plan because I had some grand ideas of you leaving her and choosing me.

Christ. She made the plan to get me out of my marriage for me to be happy. Because she thought I wanted to move on with someone else. She took herself out of the equation because affairs in the midst of a messy divorce were only a bigger mess.

She didn't even fucking quit.

Because I love you.

By the time I could think straight I realized the room was empty. Her bag was gone, the stack of papers left on the couch beside me. I got to the front door just in time to see her back out of the driveway.

-B-

Present

I snapped the cap off of a bottle of water, relieved when Bella took a small sip after I handed it to her. Pulling a chair closer I sat down in front of her, elbows resting on my knees, and gave myself a minute to look at her.

I could count on one hand the number of times I had seen her in the last two months. Even though I had the instinct to go to her and fight for her every fucking day, I couldn't. Because she was right; an affair in the middle of a divorce only made it messier. And with my life now under the scrutinization of Irina's divorce lawyers trying to gouge even more money out of me, I didn't want them exposing our affair to Bella's employers.

Looking at her, my lips twitched with a smile. She was even prettier than I remembered.

I had fucked up so many times I knew I didn't really have a chance in hell with her. I knew letting her continue to work for me, defend my divorce and children and myself all while thinking our relationship had purely been physical was completely selfish. There was no one else I would ever trust enough to have that kind of responsibility, though. And, after barging into her office and having her ask me to forget that she told me she loved me, I thought maybe she changed her mind.

Still, I had this plan. Maybe fantasy was a better term for it. I'd get a divorce because it was time. Bella's plans were exceptional and she followed through on everything. I would see an article about the whole thing, full of lies in the morning and by the afternoon it was gone. Or mostly retracted. I had only seen a handful of articles about my kids and I knew it was all because of her.

Once I was officially single I would go to her. Plead on my knees if I had to. I thought the time would be good. Give us a fresh start if she wanted, or give her space to clear her head and come to her senses. I just knew she deserved to never be considered the other woman and I couldn't give that to her for at least six months after I first filed for divorce.

All of those plans were shot to hell the second I saw that picture of us on the news this morning. As selfish as it was, I was kind of relieved. Because I really fucking missed her.

That relief was short lived as soon as I finally got to her office. The way her voice cracked when she said she didn't know what else I could want from her was enough for me to regret ever giving her the space I thought she deserved.

I ran a hand through my hair, tugging harshly at the strands. "I don't really know where to start," I admitted.

"You don't have to start anywhere, Edward," she sighed sadly, leaning forward to put the barely touched water bottle on the table. "It's not your fault."

I could have argued, in very specific detail, that everything was my fault, but I would save that for later. There was really one explanation that summed up why I had messed up so many times where she was concerned.

"I love you," I breathed out, wishing I could tell her that for the first time under better circumstances.

The deep frown and shake of her head were unexpected. "No, you don't."

"I do," I argued softly.

"No… you…" she mumbled, still shaking her head. Looking so sad and broken I wanted to pull my hair out in frustration. My eyes followed her as she stood, pacing behind the couch she had been sitting on.

I stood up, walking toward her slowly, and carefully cupped her cheek in the palm of my hand. "I love you," I repeated.

"No, you don't, Edward," she cried, pushing my hand away and frowning down at the floor. "No one does… no one cares. I ruin everything. I tried so hard to help you and I made things a hundred times worse! And I – "

Without letting her finish, I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her against me. I squeezed her to me as tight as I thought was comfortable for her, realizing I couldn't remember a time I simply gave her a hug that wasn't sexually motivated. No wonder she thought it was just sex.

"You didn't ruin anything, Bella," I whispered against her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You have changed my life for the better in every possible way. I'll gladly spend the day outlining each and every way if you'd like. But, the short story is… I love you."

"I…" she started, pulling herself back far enough to look up at me. I held my breath, immediately thinking, hoping, she was about to say those three words again. "Still don't really believe you."

It felt kind of like a stab to the chest, but I deserved it. I watched another errant tear slip from her eyes and managed to beat her to it, wiping it away gently.

"It's okay to cry, you know," I whispered, a little confused at her vehement anger at her tears.

"Crying makes you weak and selfish," she replied softly, almost as if the response was on command.

"It makes you human, Bella," I told her, hating the confusion on her face.

I didn't even have to ask to know where she got the idea from. I saw traces of her childhood abuse in her much more than I would have liked. She didn't speak up for herself a lot, especially in larger groups. I knew she worked more than anyone else I knew, thanks to more than a few emails sent at odd hours of the night. Her idea that she ruined everything… thinking that crying was selfish… It all made me wish I had gotten a few punches in myself when they were at the theater.

"I have a lot of issues," she whispered, finally looking up at me. Her eyes were red and puffy but the amount of tears falling seemed to have slowed.

I shrugged, smiling down at her. "So do I."

"I started seeing a therapist."

Her honesty surprised me. I had no stigma toward therapy, knew quite a few people who could benefit from it. Hell, I probably needed it, too. "That's good."

"I started mostly because of you. I thought she could make all of these… feelings… go away."

I swallowed thickly. "Did it work?"

"No," Bella mumbled, traces of a smile forming on her face before they were quickly replaced by a frown. "But, I still don't… there are so many things that… I don't understand."

"I know. I have a lot to explain, if you'll let me."

She needed to know the ball was in her court. That I was all in if she wanted. With a nod of Bella's head I had us back on the couch, Bella curled in the corner with a pillow in her lap. I sat beside her, body turned toward her, and started.

I told her I was attracted to her from the moment I saw her. That I saw myself as a dirty old man after hearing my son's thoughts were eerily similar to mine after he met her. How I tried to keep my distance, for both of our sakes, and failed miserably in New York. And that once I had a taste of her I couldn't let her go. That was mostly stuff she probably already pieced together on her own, though.

The frown on her face deepened when I started telling her about how quickly my feelings changed. How jealous I was when she went out on her date with Alec and how angry I was getting at the state of my own life. I confessed to realizing I loved her and not knowing how to keep her.

"You have no idea how… disgusted I was with myself when I realized you thought it was just sex. I know I never gave you any reason to believe otherwise and I'm so sorry for that."

An apology came out of my mouth after just about everything I said to her. The only time she fought me on it was when I apologized for using the couple of months since she ended things to try and focus on fixing my family dynamic while giving her space. She frowned at me and said "You don't have to apologize for putting your kids first."

And I fell in love with her all over again.

Once I felt like I had explained as much as I could, I let out a sigh and watched her for a minute. All of the things that should have deterred me from ever pursuing her now made me want her that much more. She was young but that meant I got to experience so many firsts with her. We could travel and see the world together. I could show her that she was worthy of more love and devotion than her parents ever gave her.

She might still work for me, depending on her reaction to Renata's offer, but that meant I would get to spend more time with her than if she didn't. And with the world now privy to that part of our relationship, it wasn't that big of a deal.

I shook my head, ridding myself of the too-soon thoughts.

"I'm all in, love," I sighed, the term of endearment slipping off my tongue all too easily. "If you can look past all of the baggage I bring to the table… the hormonal teenagers and divorce lawyers and odd working hours… I'm yours."

Bella's eyes snapped to me, wide and swimming with every conflicting emotion possible. "You… want me?"

"Yes," I answered immediately, my lips twitching with a smile. Finally, she seemed to be getting it.

"Even though I'm so much younger than you?"

"The age difference doesn't bother me," I shrugged. It really was the least of our issues. "Does it bother you?"

Bella shook her head, shooting a confused frown my way. "Your kids hate me."

I winced at the word hate. Lucy was having a harder time with everything than Masen, at least from what I had gotten from them so far. On the odd chance Bella was brought up, both did end up fairly uncomfortable. It was a work in progress, though.

"You've done nothing for them to hate you for."

"Irina – "

"Is the last thing you should be worried about. California law requires at least six months between the filing of divorce papers and everything being finalized. I'll be damned if this divorce goes one day over that, even with all of her demands."

"I'm kind of an… awkward person in social situations."

"You're not awkward," I shrugged. "You're you. And I love you."

Bella shook her head, a hint of fear back in her eyes. "You keep saying that but I…"

"It's okay," I told her. "If you give me the chance, I'll prove it."

We sat there for a minute, eyes on each other without another word until Bella slowly untangled herself from the corner of the couch, and scooted over to sit beside me. Her head fell to my shoulder and I pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Edward?" she whispered, her voice tinged with exhaustion.

I relaxed into the couch so Bella would do the same. She situated herself against my shoulder and I wrapped my arm around her, running my fingers softly through her hair. "Hmm?"

"I missed you," she mumbled, just barely on the verge of falling asleep.

A wave of relief flowed through my veins. That meant she was in, that I had another chance not to fuck this up.

"I missed you, too, love."

I wasn't even sure if she heard me, because a minute later she was fast asleep.

-B-

"I don't want to live with her," Lucy snapped at me from across the dinner table.

Bella had practically passed out after our conversation earlier and didn't even stir when I carried her upstairs to get more comfortable in my bed. Just in time, too, because Lucy and Masen got home not long after and Lucy was… pissed.

"She's not living here, Lu," I sighed. "She had a bad day. Photographers are camped outside her house. She's just staying here for the night."

It might have been a tad presumptuous, but I really didn't want her home when just down her driveway was a crowd of men wanting her picture. Her roommate, Rosalie, had called me after she fell asleep and I got quite an earful from her that ended with her wanting me to tell Bella to go to her boyfriend's place instead of home.

She was already here, though. Sound asleep in bed. And I selfishly wanted more time with her

"Maybe if she hadn't been fucking her boss she wouldn't – "

"Lucy Alice Cullen," I snapped. "Bella has been nothing but kind to you. Can you just… give her a chance, please? For me?"

"You're already choosing her over us," Lucy snarled. "She might as well move in, so you can start your new, perfect family."

Lucy pushed away from the table and was halfway upstairs before I could say anything.

I sighed, tugging at my hair, and looked over at Masen. "You're quiet."

He sat there, seeming unfazed, and happily ate his spaghetti. Apology spaghetti that Alice dropped off yesterday.

Masen shrugged. "Lucy always kind of held out hope you and Mom would get back together. I never really thought that. I mean, I did kind of think 'the arrangement' would last forever, but maybe that was stupid."

"It was stupid of me to go along with it so long. Not stupid of you to believe it."

"Eh," Masen shrugged, slurping more pasta. The kid was a never ending pit when it came to dinner.

"You're doing okay… with everything?"

Lucy had always been much more upfront with her emotions. She had also inherited her mother's knack for the theatrics, unfortunately. Masen, though, you had to pry to figure out what the kid was really thinking.

"Yeah," he shrugged. "I mean, I totally did call dibs on Bella before you – "

"But, women are not objects to call dibs on," I continued for him.

"I know, I know. But… you seemed happier. With her. And she said…"

I frowned. I wasn't sure the last time they had ever talked to her. "What?"

"I think it must have been when she, uh, broke up with you. It was the last time I saw her at the house. She said you were miserable and trapped with Mom."

I couldn't deny it, because it was the truth. As time went on, I got more and more stuck and resigned to my life. Apparently, I had done an excellent job at hiding that from my kids, though.

"And you should be happy with Bella. She's like, a decade younger than you and hot. And you're… kind of old. So, good for you."

I shook my head with a smile. Masen's odd way of saying he was fine with Bella and I was mostly sweet and only a little bit uncomfortable. I got up from the table and grabbed his empty plate. "Go finish your homework, kid."

"Fine," he grumbled, heading down to the basement.

Once the kitchen was clean I headed upstairs, pre-written note for Lucy in my hand. When she was little, she got fascinated by the oddest things, mail being one of them. The girl lived for getting something addressed to her. In our house the tooth fairy didn't leave her money under her pillow, but mailed it the next day. She had lost that interest after a couple years, but every once in a while I would slide a letter under her door, just for old times sake.

Tonight, I had a simple piece of paper folded up, her name on top. I knew she wouldn't want to talk right now after many failed attempts to talk to her immediately following a fight in the past. I couldn't have my girl thinking she was ever second best, though.

I would never choose anyone over you. Love, Dad.

I sat down outside of her door and slid it under the crack. A minute later it was slid back at me with what I assumed was an angry push. After a few rounds of sending the letter back and forth, it was finally gone long enough for her to be reading it.

"Love you, too," Lucy grumbled from behind the door.

Having put out more fires than I had in a long time, I was feeling awfully accomplished for the day as I made my way to my bedroom. The bed was, unfortunately, empty but so was the plate of spaghetti I had placed on the nightstand earlier, too. The door to the master bath opened and Bella walked out, wearing the clothes I had folded on the counter for her.

She was smiling down at her attire before she noticed me. "Oh. Hi."

"Hi."

"These are my size," she said, pulling at the sweatpants around her waist. The first hint of a genuine smile on her face I had seen in… a long time.

"Good, because I bought them for you." It was a full set of The Tonight Show with Edward Cullen attire. Seeing her in a t-shirt with my name on it once made me realize I wanted to see it much more often. I just hadn't gotten to give her the set before.

"Thank you. And thanks for the spaghetti, and letting me stay here tonight," she mumbled. When I cocked my head to the side, curious about how she already found out about it, she pointed to the nightstand where her phone sat. "Rosalie called."

"Ah," I sighed, finally face to face. I couldn't help myself, reaching out to rest my hands on her hips. I scanned her face, realizing she still looked exhausted even after sleeping most of the afternoon. I reached a hand up, cupping her cheek and rubbing my thumb gently underneath her eye.

She truly was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She had eyes that were easy to read. A soft splattering of freckles across her nose. I knew from hours of experience that her lips were as soft as they looked, especially when she sank her teeth into her bottom lip.

My distraction led to my lips a fraction of an inch away from hers until I came to my senses and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. I smiled against her skin when I heard a soft grumble from her.

"I'm going to do things right this time, Bella," I whispered, pressing my forehead against hers. "Starting with a date."

Bella's eyebrows shot up. "A date?"

"Yes," I smiled. "Tomorrow night, if you're free."

"Well, I'm very recently unemployed so I have nothing but free time."

"You won't have much free time after you meet with Renata on Monday," I told her, continuing on thanks to her confused frown. "She's starting her own firm and wants to hire you."

"But, I – "

"You don't have to worry about it right now."

"Well, I need to – "

"Get some more sleep," I finished, backing her over to the bed. "You've got a hot date tomorrow night."

Bella frowned over at me, possibly the cutest frown I had seen in my life, as she sat cross-legged on my bed. Covered head-to-toe in my name. Cute and sexy at the same time was a great combination on her.

"I don't really understand half of what has happened today," she mumbled.

I pressed a kiss to her forehead, grabbing a pillow from behind her. "That's okay."

"What are you doing?" she asked with a frown as I tossed the pillow on the couch across the room.

"Sleeping on the couch."

Another cute frown was thrown my way. "Why?"

"Because, I'm trying to be a gentleman," I told her, disappearing into the ensuite to get ready for bed. It was fairly early, but it had been a shit storm of a day. After taking care of all the necessities I changed into some light sweatpants and a t-shirt. When I walked back out, Bella was still sitting up in the middle of the bed.

Our sleeping arrangement didn't last for long. It couldn't have been more than an hour after we both settled down when I heard shuffling feet and felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Scoot over," Bella whispered.

My eyes cracked open, seeing Bella wide awake and standing over me. The smarter decision would have been getting us both in the plush, king sized bed across the room. As I've learned, though, I was never one for smart decisions. So, I pressed myself against the back of the couch and Bella squeezed herself next to me.

She looked up at me and I could barely make out a soft smile in the dim lighting. She pressed a quick, almost shy kiss to my chin before burying her head against my chest.

I squeezed her close, revealing in her familiar scent and weight against me. I spent years trying to force myself to feel something for Irina. Had a string of women after her that were nothing more than a way to pass time, an attempt to feel anything new. All of that and nothing left me feeling anything close to what I felt now.

Five months was all it took. Simultaneously a long and short time when falling in love with Isabella Swan was the easiest thing I had ever done.

A/N: Welp, that's all for Bad Kind of Butterflies. This story was a big test for me. I didn't really have much of it planned in my head when I started posting, but I kind of love where it ended up. And I'm even more excited for the sequel :)

I can't tell you how much every review meant to me, especially in these crazy times. It will never not amaze me when someone wants to tell me they like what I write or dissect and try to guess where things are going to go to a story that is just floating around in my mind. I hope you're all doing well and staying safe and know how much I appreciate you reading for loving these two, flaws and all, as much as I do.

Make sure you put me on author alert for the sequel Easy coming as fast as my little fingers can type it! See you then!