You know how life gets in the way of writing? Yeah that happened again. So sorry. Next update will be much quicker.

Thanks as usual goes to all you fantastic reviewers.

I'm a little unsure about this chapter, but it had to happen this way for the story to move along the way it's mapped out. It's probably completely different to what you're all expecting, so please forgive me if you don't like it.

Oh, and yes I did borrow a couple of lines from Twilight, hope you don't mind. No copyright infringement intended.

**BPOV**

The first thing I was aware of when I came to was the lack of pain. It was bliss.

A steady drip, drip, drip came from beside me, and when I managed to open my heavy eyes I spied the IV that provided the noise. I blinked, clearing my vision.

I had no idea what time it was, or how long I'd been unconscious. The door to my room was wide open, though I couldn't see or hear anyone from the corridor outside.

I wasn't ready to inspect my injuries yet. Instead, I picked up the phone on the table beside me and dialled slowly, anxious of the reaction that would await me.

It picked up on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Alice, hi," I said, my voice husky from sleep. I cleared my throat.

"Isabella Marie Swan!" Alice squealed, causing me to jump slightly. Oh, now I could feel the pain. "Were you so desperate to get back at me for standing you up? I waited for an hour, you know. Where the hell were you?"

"I was-"

"And why the hell weren't you answering your phone? I called dozens of times!"

"It's still in the alle-"

"Where are you now? You weren't home when I got there. Are you with Rose?"

"Alice!" I said loudly, my voice still raw from overuse. "Quit interrogating me! One question at a time or else I'm cutting off your access to energy drinks."

"Fine," she said stiffly, clearly pissed. "Where are you now?"

"I'm in the hospital."

"Okay, and why didn't you answer my—wait, what? Why are you in the hospital? Honey, are you alright?" Alice went from anger straight to fretting in two seconds flat.

"I'm fine now," I assured her.

There was a pause. "What do you mean by now?"

I sighed. "There was an incident earlier today... involving James."

Alice gasped. Then there was silence.

"Alice?" I said tentatively. "You there?"

When she spoke, her voice sounded strained. "Rosalie and I will be there as soon as possible."

Then she hung up. I lay there in silence, still refusing to look down at my injuries. What happened to Edward? Was he here in the hospital too?

I realised I was still holding the phone in my hand, and when I placed it back in the cradle I noticed a piece of paper folded neatly beneath it.

I curiously unfolded it. "Bella," it read...

I hope you're feeling better. I wanted to be there when you woke up, but the police insisted I go down to the station to make a statement. They'll want to question you when you wake up as well, so be warned. One of the policemen is absolutely insufferable. The doctors told me you should be out within the next few days. I won't intrude on you in hospital, but I'll make sure to call every night.

Love Edward.

As I finished reading, a warmth spread through me. He cared. He would be calling. He'd signed it with love.

OK, so maybe I was reading a little too much into that part. But still, he'd taken the time to write the note. I held it in shaking fingers, looking down as a new feeling overtook me.

All this time I'd grown more and more attached to him, my infatuation growing. I'd tried to ignore it, but maybe that had made it stronger, like it was trying to break through. Now I realised it wasn't even an infatuation anymore; it was much, much stronger.

It was hard to admit this, even to myself... but it was undeniable now: I was in love with Edward Cullen.

I didn't know how long I sat there staring, but it must have been a while, because before I knew it Alice and Rosalie were bustling in, fussing over my injuries and discussing how best to murder James.

I shoved the note under the pillow before they noticed it, and figured I probably couldn't hold off looking down any longer.

My ankle was clearly broken, if the bulky cast was anything to go by. I was amazed that my skin had such a capacity for bruises. They were scattered all over me, amidst a myriad of little cuts and scabs. I didn't check in a mirror, but I assumed my face wasn't much better than the rest of me.

I stayed in the hospital for a couple of days, and the next morning two officers visited me. I dutifully answered their questions, but Edward was right. Officer Crowley was insufferable.

He made inappropriate jokes, and didn't get many questions asked. He told me the police might be calling my home if they needed any further information, despite me telling them I'd told them all I could remember. Alice and Rosalie patiently listened as I ranted about him.

"And right after he told me he might call my home, he actually asked me out," I bristled, crossing my arms angrily.

They were incredulous. "Seriously? After everything that happened?"

"That was his reason for it apparently. He wanted to take my mind off things," I snorted.

"Maybe he's just a little confused on how to cheer a girl up," Alice said thoughtfully. "Maybe if you gave him a chance—"

"Do not finish that sentence," I said sharply. "Trust me, he's not my type."

"Psh," Rosalie grinned. "Since when did you have a type?"

Since I met Edward. "Since none-of-your-business," I said defensively. Maybe a little too defensively; Alice was giving me that all-knowing smirk again. "That's not the point. He's just creepy, you know? He calls me by my full name no matter how many times I've hinted that it's 'Bella'."

Only Edward could call me Isabella and get away with it.

"Oh." Rose wrinkled her nose. "So have you finished with all the questions?"

"God, I hope so. I'll be glad never to hear his voice again."

We talked for a little longer before Rose left, yawning. Alice settled into the portable bed beside me, reading a magazine.

Alice and Rosalie were both staying at my house, as it was closest to the hospital. They took to visiting me in shifts. Alice would be home sleeping when Rose came in and vice versa, despite my protests.

The next morning Rosalie came in, and Alice gave me a kiss on the forehead before slipping out the door.

"You guys are going to way too much trouble," I grumbled as Rose sat beside me.

"I don't want to hear it," she retorted, her voice holding an edge of maternal sternness. I hated being mollycoddled. "Besides, who else is going to answer your phone for you?"

My heart skipped a beat. "Someone called? When? Who was it?"

I knew I was sounding too eager, and I tried to rein it in. Rosalie raised an eyebrow. "It was that detective you hated. He was acting all suave, so I politely told him to fuck off and not to call again."

"Oh," I replied, my heart sinking horribly. "Good. I don't want to be interrogated any more. He was weird."

Rosalie wrinkled her nose in distaste. I hesitated slightly. "No one else called, did they?" I asked, feigning nonchalance.

"No, not that I can remember. But I was out for a bit, so you better ask Alice when you get home this afternoon."

I grinned. I was leaving today, back to the comfort of my own bed.

The rest of the day passed quickly, and soon I was hobbling back into my familiar apartment. I tripped often. Crutches were like my personal enemy.

Alice, Rosalie and I celebrated my release by having our chick flick night. I forgot all my troubles for once, and just settled down to watch You Have Mail.

*

Following the weeks after 'the incident', he didn't call again. Not once.

I couldn't figure out his sudden change of mind.

It was as though Edward Cullen (I had repeated that name in my head too many times to be sane) and I had never met. He didn't try to contact me and I had no way of contacting him.

It wasn't like I hadn't tried. The first book I opened when I left the hospital was the phonebook. Nothing. Must be a private number.

So I wracked my mind, trying to remember every little detail of our conversations, until the memory of him mentioning the company he worked for popped up. After much research, and a little blackmail, I managed to get a hold of his workplace—or should I say, former workplace.

His boss didn't give me any details except that Edward Cullen no longer worked there. So... what? Had he quit? Did he anticipate that I'd try and contact him there?

Why was he so against talking to me? What was it that turned him against me?

Maybe he didn't find me attractive anymore. The mystique of a possibly beautiful stranger over the phone was lost, now that he knew what I looked like. Plain. He didn't want to continue talking to a simple old boring person who he'd seen topless, and was apparently unimpressed with what he saw.

The only other conclusion I could come up with was that he regretted saving my life. I tried not to dwell on that too much.

Tried and failed.

If I was being perfectly honest with myself, almost every thought of mine was consumed with him. I was intrigued (and frustrated) with the mystery he presented, and more than a little obsessed with Edward himself.

I'd even resorted to shopping more with Alice, just so I could bump into him in the department store (no matter how slim my chances were). You heard correctly. Shopping. I ought to be ashamed.

Not just that, I found myself in that general area more often, just hanging out (or so I told Alice and Rosalie). Even I thought I was pitiful.

At the moment I was slouched back on Alice's couch, contemplating the gruelling task of moving my furniture out of my apartment. After my failed job interview, and the fact that I couldn't attend my second interview due to some pesky little injuries, I had run out of rent. I had to be out within the week.

Which meant I was staying with Alice for a while. I hadn't been back to my place much (though I was pleased to learn that my lock had finally been repaired) after the first week, and when I had, it was only to collect essentials. Alice came with me, packing her version of my 'essentials'. I swear if we were stuck on an island, I'd be asking for food and water while she'd be asking for her cell and some Jimmy Choos.

The dreams that had plagued me continued, but they had changed. The irresistible voice still drew me in, but then rejected me, laughing cruelly as I ran through a never-ending dark alley. James starred in my dreams almost every night, and it wasn't unusual for me to wake up sobbing and sweating.

I was miserable.

I tried to look on the bright side, of course. James was in police custody at the moment, awaiting trial. My cast was coming off tomorrow. I now never left the house looking unfashionable.

Nevertheless, I still couldn't shake the gloom that constantly surrounded me. I felt like I was suffering from withdrawal.

The front door slammed suddenly, and I jumped. Alice floated over to me, beaming.

"Alice?" I said warily. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

She could barely contain her excitement. She was doing little bounces on the balls of her feet; it probably wasn't even a conscious action. "Like what?"

"Like you've just discovered how to turn lead into shoes. Your eyes are doing that weird darting thing."

"Oh, I can't hold it in!" she grinned. I was surprised that she'd gone that long. "You have a date, Bella!"

I burst into laughter. "Oh my god.... you're serious?" I panted between fits of giggles. "Hahahaha...no."

"Bellaaa," Alice whined, but I turned away before she could unleash the full power of her pout. "You need to get out more! All you've been doing is sitting around moping."

"That's not true," I said indignantly. "I've been sitting around recovering. Like you told me to do, remember?"

Alice scowled. "Yes, but you lost your social life in the process. When was the last time you spoke to anyone other than me or Rose?"

"Last night," I said frostily. "Emmett and I had a very heated discussion about what colour looks best on Rosalie."

"OK, let me rephrase. When was the last time you were out on a date?" Alice responded.

"I... it was... it's none of your business," I sulked. Could you count getting cleaned up in an alley as a date? We'd even engaged in the typical getting to know each other—but I stopped my thoughts before they could continue. It was too painful to remember, knowing as I did now that he wanted nothing to do with me, and probably never did in the first place.

"That's what I thought," Alice said smugly.

I crossed my arms, still frowning. "You can think all you want Alice, but I don't want to go out to dinner with a potential weirdo who I've never met." That was only the half-truth. Stupid as it was, I almost didn't want to betray Edward. And I especially wasn't ready to meet anyone new, now that I knew my heart belonged to him.

"Oh, come on, Bella. It'll be fun," she wheedled.

I rolled my eyes. "Sure, sure."

"No, it will," she insisted. "He's a really nice guy!"

I looked her directly in the eye. "How much are you going to nag me if I don't go?"

She smirked. "Honestly, do you really have to ask?"

I was afraid of that. As swiftly as I could, I weighed up my options. Days of Alice nagging and sulking, versus a meal with a stranger, which I could get out of at anytime if he turned out to be Sir Creepsalot. I could do worse.

"Fine, I'll go," I sighed, causing Alice to clap loudly and pull me into a hug. "But! If this doesn't work out you owe me big time."

"Deal."

"And you have to text or call me in the first fifteen minutes to see if I want out."

"Done."

She sat down beside me, still grinning. "It's in three days, on Thursday. Oh, I have the perfect outfit for you!"

She raced into my room, and I heard the ruffling of her ransacking my wardrobe. Fuck my life.

*

I checked my cell for the umpteenth time today. No calls, missed or otherwise. Since I'd started living with Alice I was having all calls to my apartment directed to my cell.

It was Thursday, the day of my 'date'. To say I was nervous was an understatement. I hated surprises, and going out to dinner with someone I'd never met was no exception.

Much to my chagrin, Alice hadn't even provided his name, let alone a description. I had to remind myself multiple times throughout the week why I was friends with her.

At least she'd come up with a killer outfit. Literally. The shoes that she'd picked out for me were likely to be my cause of death.

Which is why my current location was my old apartment, rummaging through my limited footwear options in my virtually empty room. Not much was left, save for my bed and a few sets of clothes and miscellaneous items. The rest had gone into storage until I found another job and apartment.

Wasting no time, I pulled out the least scuffed pair of ballerina flats, and shoved them on my feet. I checked my reflection in the mirror. Alice had done my makeup, and Rosalie had done my hair. I actually felt pretty tonight.

I still had an hour before I was to meet 'him'. So I took the time to stop forwarding calls to my cell; as of Saturday the apartment wouldn't be mine anyway.

No sooner had I completed the process, the apartment phone's shrill tone went off. Murphy's law, I thought. Lucky I was still here to hear it. I jumped, and I felt an odd swooping sensation in my stomach. It wasn't unfamiliar—it's the feeling I used to get every time I was expecting a call from Mr. Persistence.

I squashed the feeling of hope bubbling in my stomach. He hadn't called over the last half dozen weeks, why would he call now?

"Hello?"

"Bella?"

Despite my attempts to prevent it, I'd still let myself hope. My heart sank as I heard Alice on the other line. "Yeah?"

"Did you find some shoes? Should I come over to help you choose?"

"Alice calm down, you sound more nervous than me," I laughed. "Yes, I found some shoes."

"Good. Now remember you're to meet him at the restaurant in half an hour. I'll text you sometime in the first hour if you need an escape."

"I know," I sighed, dreading the date already. "Hold on, there's someone on the other line."

I put her on hold. "Hello?"

"Hello, is Miss Bella Swan there, please?"

My heart skipped a beat. I'd recognise that voice anywhere.

My voice squeaked embarrassingly. I clapped a palm over my mouth and switched back to Alice.

"I have to leave now. Bye," I said, struggling to regulate my voice. I ended the call with Alice, switching back to him.

"...Hi," I said breathlessly, unsure of what to say. Should I be mad? Probably. But I was just too relieved to hear his voice.

"It's... really good to hear your voice again," he said, echoing my thoughts. His reply, though hesitant, burned with sincerity.

"I could say the same to you."

An awkward silence grew between us. It was awkward for me, at least. Last time we spoke had been so uncomplicated. I didn't know if we were still being as candid now.

I searched my mind for something to say, but everything I thought of sounded accusatory, whiny or insane. There was so much to get out that I honestly didn't know where to start.

He was the first to say something, for which I was grateful, and he blurted it out hurriedly, stumbling over his words. "I'm sorry I didn't call. I really wanted to, I swear, but I just became overwhelmed and then that crazy chick got all mother lion on me and I seriously feared for my life if I tried to call again."

"What?" It was the only reply I could think of to his confusing outburst.

I heard him sigh deeply. "I'm tired of trying to stay away from you, Bella," he murmured, his voice smouldering.

My stomach did that melting thing that only happened when he spoke like that. My heartbeat sped loudly; I hoped he couldn't hear it.

"Oh..." I muttered, confused. He didn't wait for a proper reply.

"How are you?" From the way he said it, it was beyond a courtesy question. He really wanted to know how I was.

"I'm fine," I said automatically.

He scoffed. "I'll believe that when I see it."

"Do you promise?" I asked shyly. I desperately wanted to see him again.

He laughed softly. "What's in it for me?"

I grinned. "Some shades and the key to a seedy hotel room."

His laugh was louder this time. "Sounds kinky. You may have just won me over."

"Just wait till you see my costumes," I quipped.

I was relieved that it was so easy to talk to him. I decided that, just for tonight, I'd try and ignore the giant elephant in the room, and just banter like we always did. Of course, it couldn't be so easy.

"Bella..." Edward said, and his voice sounded different suddenly. "I think it's better if we're not friends."

His words were like a punch to the gut. All my previous suspicions came roaring back and I stared down at the phone in shock.

I recovered quickly, my heart doing what it could to protect itself and transforming my hurt into anger. "It's too bad you didn't figure that out earlier," I hissed through my teeth. "You could have saved yourself all this regret."

"Regret?" the word, and my tone, obviously caught him off guard. "Regret for what?"

"For not just letting stupid James have me."

There was silence, and my stomach twisted uncomfortably, my breathing uneven. When he finally spoke, he almost sounded mad. "You think I regret saving your life?"

"I know you do," I snapped.

"You don't know anything." He was definitely mad.

I clenched my jaw against all the wild accusations I wanted to hurl at him, and took a deep breath. "I knew it was too good to be true," I said, my voice sounding constricted with anger.

"Bella, wait, let me explain—" he started. Ha! Explain what? Why we couldn't be friends? I'd rather skip that conversation, thanks.

"No! Just leave me alone, Edward," I snapped, before slamming the phone back into the cradle. I might have been a bit too forceful; the handset sprang apart from the blow.

I sank to the ground, hugging my knees to my chest as tears of anger sprang to my eyes. I tried as hard as I could to think about anything but Edward Cullen.

**EPOV**

As soon as they treated my wounds, and gave me a plain shirt to wear, I asked to see Bella. They complied, but told me she was still unconscious. I didn't care, I just needed to see that she was OK.

I left the room as soon as they gave me her room number; I wanted to be there when she woke up.

I managed to find my way without directions (though not without difficulty), just as Carlisle was stepping out of the room.

"Carlisle," I said, relieved to see him taking care of her.

"Edward?" he said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

I ignored that question for the moment; I had more pressing concerns. "How is she?"

He looked back into the room, though I couldn't see past him to look for myself. He turned back to me, surprised. "You know her?"

I resisted the urge to laugh darkly. Did I know her? I knew different versions of her, but did that constitute knowing Bella as a whole?

"I suppose you could say that. How bad are the injuries?"

He sighed sadly as he stepped out of the room and snapped the door shut quietly, and my heart squeezed painfully at the thought of her in pain. "She'll be alright," he assured me quickly, seeing the look on my face. "But her ankle is broken, she's concussed, and she needed a few stitches to the gash on her head."

I expected as much, though it was still distressing to have it confirmed. "She won't be stuck here long, will she?"

"Not at all. She'll be out within the next few days." He hesitated. "Son... how do you know her?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, remembering her whimpering pleas in the dark. "I helped her in the alley."

Realisation dawned on his face. "You're the one who saved her?"

So apparently the cops had filled him in on the story. "Anyone would have done the same," I muttered, trying to ignore the proud look on his face. I didn't deserve his praise; I could have taken James out sooner. If I'd acted properly she wouldn't be in hospital at all.

He clapped a hand on my shoulder, firm yet comforting. "I have other patients. She should wake up in the next few hours, if you want to stay."

I thanked him, then turned back in the direction of her room as he walked away. I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself, before opening the door.

My eyes fell upon Bella's still form, battered and bruised, and my stomach tightened. She was hooked up to an IV, the liquid dripping rhythmically in the silence, and a thick cast stuck out of the lumpy sheets. I stepped forward to get a closer view of the damage. There were dark contusions scattered amongst most of her translucent skin, and the rest was covered in bandages.

I spotted a chair by her bed and quickly took up residence there, trying to focus not on my hatred for James that had boiled up in my stomach, but instead on the unconscious woman beside me. The chair was hard, uncomfortable, and the vinyl crackled loudly, but it was right beside Isabella, and I wouldn't have had it any other way. Her hand was lying beside her body against the bed, and mine was itching to touch it, to hold it, caress it...

But her hand was just as beat as the rest of her, thus making me hesitant. Instead I situated my arm to rest lightly next to hers along the bed; barely touching, but still just enough contact.

I don't know how long I sat there, staring at her peaceful face, but I was mesmerised. Under the small amount of swelling on her face I could easily see the beauty of the girl I spotted in the shoe department. The girl who'd consumed my mind and fantasies ever since. The girl that I had unknowingly chatted to, argued with and flirted with over the phone on countless occasions.

Just gazing at her face it became obvious to me. She was more than just a phone buddy. More than just a woman that I loved to call to annoy. A woman I loved to talk to and hear her voice...she was a woman I loved. I couldn't stop the words from forcing their way into my head. I loved Bella Swan.

I couldn't quite comprehend it, but there was a connection between us. The phone, the department store, the... alley. I'd never considered myself a man who took much stock in 'destiny' and 'fate', but how could this be coincidence? I could only come to one conclusion, and only after the evidence had been shoved in my face, I acknowledged it: Bella and I were meant for each other.

I knew I was being trite and clichéd, but I didn't care; it was worth it.

I let my mind wander again, exploring my realisation. I was startled when a voice at the door broke through my reverie.

"Mr Cullen?" my head snapped up, and one of the policemen from the alley was standing in the doorway.

"Yes?" I asked, more than a little annoyed at the interruption. I didn't make any move to leave. I didn't want to. I never wanted to leave Bella's side again.

"I'm Officer Crowley. What's up?"

Was he serious? What did he expect me to say? Oh hey, man. How am I, you say? Well, see, this girl here that I'm in love with was almost raped today and I got beat up by her psychopathic stalker while trying to save her. All in all I've had a wonderful day. How are you?'

Instead I just stared at him, not bothering to correct my open mouth. His gaze had moved to Bella now. I narrowed my eyes as his expression turned admiring.

"She's pretty," he said, almost in surprise. "Even all messed up. Not my usual type... still, maybe I should take her out, make her forget about today."

I wanted to fucking harpoon him in the face.

The growl that left my throat at his words was barely audible, and I had to control myself before I growled something immature like 'mine!'

The truth was that she wasn't mine, and it was almost unbearably painful to admit that.

Officer Crowley turned to me now, oblivious to the mental pain I was inflicting on him. "Hey, so we need to ask you some questions." He got down to business when he saw the look on my face. "Could you come down the station with us to make a statement?"

Shit. No.

I hesitated, glancing back at Bella's broken form.

"It won't take long Mr. Cullen. She'll still be here...it's not like she's going anywhere like that." He snickered at his own pitiful joke. I resisted the urge to punch him in the face.

I sighed, and lifted myself from the chair, missing the contact between Isabella and me already. I noticed a pad of paper on the bedside table, and I quickly grabbed it, ripping a page off the top to scribble down a message. I didn't want her to wake up alone, but she needed to see I was thinking about her if she did.

Another thought crept into my mind. What if she didn't want me there when she woke? What if all I carried were bad memories for her now? I decided to let her make the decision of staying in contact with me or not.

It took longer than I expected to find the right words, but after wasting most of the notebook paper, I finally settled on the best thing to say (much to Officer Crowley's annoyance, who spent the time huffing and checking his watch impatiently).

Bella,

I hope you're feeling better. I wanted to be there when you woke up, but the police insisted I go down to the station to make a statement. They'll want to question you when you wake up as well, so be warned. One of the policemen is absolutely insufferable. The doctors told me you should be out within the next few days. I won't intrude on you in hospital, but I'll make sure to call every night.

There were only two sheets of paper left by the time I had it perfect, and I hesitated before finally signing it 'love Edward'. Folding it neatly I placed it under a small phone cradle on the table, and stuffed the scraps of paper into my pocket.

And even though Crowley physically led me away, my thoughts never left my Bella.

*

I didn't call that night, as she would obviously still be in hospital. The next night, however, I was hopeful that maybe she'd been released early, and dialled her number eagerly.

My heart skipped a beat when it was answered. "Hello?"

My elation didn't last long. This woman sounded scarily similar to Emmett's girlfriend, and truth be told, that woman scared the crap out of me sometimes. But if she was taking care of Bella (as I assumed she was), who was I to judge? Still, I had to remind myself that she wasn't Emmett's girlfriend before I spoke.

"Hello, is Miss Isabella Swan there, please?" I asked in my most persuasive tone.

There was a slight pause, before... "Oh, you have some nerve!"

I jumped at her outburst. "Excuse me?"

"Listen, she's done answering your questions! Do you realise how much you creeped her out?"

"I—I didn't... I just..." I stuttered.

"She doesn't want to talk to you. She says she'd be glad to never hear your voice again."

Rejection shot through me, so acute that it was almost physically painful. But... if that's what Bella wanted...

"I understand. Sorry for wasting your time," I said, my voice defeated. She hung up before I even finished speaking.

*

Weeks passed, and true to Bella's requests, I didn't call again.

That wasn't to say it was easy though. Every night I came so close to calling; some nights I'd even started dialling before I hung up.

I wouldn't be a burden on her life. If she didn't want to be involved with me I wouldn't force myself on her, no matter how much I loved her.

I became depressed. I'd lost my job (they'd fired me for missing the shift that I was supposed to be at while saving Bella), though that didn't faze me too much. Money had never been an issue. No, the thing that bothered me most was that my last remaining connection with her, the way we met, was now gone.

I wondered how she was healing, how her job interview had gone, how she was in general. I wondered if she still thought of me, even a fraction as much as I thought of her. For the umpteenth time today, my hand itched towards her cell. My control was slipping. Just a few buttons pushed, and I could be talking to her right now...

I was flopped on the couch, seeing but not really watching the infomercials in front of me. At that moment Jasper came through the door, whispering on his cell. I didn't even try and decipher what he was saying.

He hung up, then grabbed the remote and switched off the TV.

"Hey, I was watching that," I protested half-heartedly, not even shifting so I could see him.

"No you weren't."

"I could have been."

"But you wouldn't have."

I sat up and turned to Jasper. "What are you trying to say?"

"All you've been doing these last few weeks is mope! You're a vegetable. You never even go to the gym anymore."

That wasn't true. I'd just taken to going at odd hours of the morning when my newly-acquired insomnia got the best of me. "I still fail to see your point."

"You need to get out, man. When was the last time you even left the apartment?"

I didn't answer that question. "And I suppose you have some miracle fix for me?"

"Probably the opposite, but Alice insisted I try this."

I was instantly wary. "Try what?"

"She's set you up on a blind date. Please don't hurt me."

I blinked up at him, then let myself flop back on the sofa. "I'm not going."

"Come on, Edward, what harm can it do?" Jasper cajoled.

To him it would seem like no harm. But I still felt like I'd be betraying Isabella. "In case you haven't noticed, I've taken a break from dating."

Jasper struggled with an argument for a bit. "OK, that's fine. Why don't you take a leaf out of Emmett's book before he met Rosalie? She can just be a little fun."

"I don't use women," I spat.

Jasper became desperate. "Please? Alice threatened not to sleep with me for a week if I don't convince you."

"I haven't slept with anyone in a week, I'm sure you'll deal."

"Come on, live a little." It was amusing, watching Jasper change tactics. "You might actually like her."

I felt like telling Jasper that there was certainly no way I'd like her, unless her name was Isabella Swan, but instead I just shrugged.

"Look, if this is about her—"

"Don't finish that sentence, Jazz," I said quietly, my voice full of warning. The guys and I had an unspoken rule that Isabella's name, and any reference to her existence not be spoken. It was too painful.

"Fuck it, I am. If this is about her, then it's your own goddamn fault. If you stopped acting like a pussy and just fucking called her then maybe you could get some closure and move on. Maybe she's realised what a mistake she's made by pushing you away, or maybe not. But Emmett and I are sick of watching you waste away in front of this TV day after fucking day. You're going on this fucking date, even if we have to physically force you."

I was too shocked by his outburst to be mad (yet, anyway). "When is it?"

"This Thursday," he replied, sounding relived that I'd agreed, before adding, "I'm sure she'll be nice."

"Whatever," I replied, still half-considering not going. "If she isn't though, I'm blaming you."

Jasper laughed. "Fair enough." He tossed the remote back into my lap and disappeared into the kitchen.

*

Thursday already. Why had I agreed to this again?

I pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt, wishing more than ever that I could be seeing Bella tonight. As I gave my teeth a last minute scrub I realised it wasn't just a wish; the urge to talk to her was overpowering.

If you stopped acting like a pussy and just fucking called her then maybe you could get some closure and move on. Maybe she's realised what a mistake she's made by pushing you away, or maybe not.

Jasper's words echoed in my head again. My resistance had been weakening for a while now, and combined with Jasper's encouragement and the fact that I was facing dinner with a woman who wasn't Bella, it crumbled altogether.

As I dialled the phone a weird rush swept through me. I needed to hear her voice one more time, even if it was just to tell me to go play in traffic. I wanted to beg her to give me a chance.

The phone answered. My heart leapt up into my throat. "Hello?"

My body relaxed completely, reacting to her sweet voice. "Hello, is Miss Bella Swan there, please?" Saying those words was like second nature to me.

Her voice squeaked. What the hell did that mean? There was silence, and I was worried she was going to hang up on me.

But then she spoke, just one word in a swift breath. "Hi."

Warmth washed over me; I couldn't even help it. She was like my drug, and the withdrawal was over now. "It's... really good to hear your voice again," I said, hesitantly though fervently. Would she start yelling? Tell me never to call again?

"I could say the same to you," she said evenly, but her breathing was still slightly erratic. My heart soared. That was a good sign, wasn't it?

We were both silent as I struggled to articulate my thoughts. She needed to know why I did what I did. "I'm sorry I didn't call. I really wanted to, I swear, but I just became overwhelmed and then that crazy chick got all mother lion on me and I seriously feared for my life if I tried to call again." My words were rushed, but I think she got most of it.

"What?" she said, bewildered. Apparently not.

I sighed, wondering how to put this without freaking her out. "I'm tired of trying to stay away from you, Bella."

"Oh..."

"How are you?" I asked. Had she improved? Had she been seeking professional help? Did she get the job?

"I'm fine," she replied immediately, automatically.

"I'll believe that when I see it," I teased.

"Do you promise?" she said quietly, her voice coy.

I laughed quietly. Did she even know how impossibly sexy she was? "What's in it for me?"

"Some shades and the key to a seedy hotel room."

As usual, her response was completely unexpected. I laughed again. "Sounds kinky. You may have just won me over."

As if she didn't already own my heart.

"Just wait till you see my costumes," she said cheekily. Good lord.

I took a deep breath, making up my mind. I knew that if I didn't ask now I may never work up the courage to ask later. I tried to keep up the flirty pretence through my nervousness.

"Bella, I think it's better if we're not friends." It would benefit both of us so much more if we were a couple.

I expected her to act a little disappointed, shocked maybe, so that I could spring the 'just kidding!' line and ask her if she wanted to come back to my place to bone.

"It's too bad you didn't figure that out earlier," she shot back. "You could have saved yourself all this regret."

"Regret?" I asked, side-tracked now. "Regret for what?"

"For not just letting stupid James have me."

I gaped at the phone. Did she honestly believe that? "You think I regret saving your life?"

"I know you do," she retorted.

Her estimation of my intentions left me seething. "You don't know anything."

I heard her jaw click together audibly. When she spoke, her voice was tense. "I knew it was too good to be true."

I remembered my initial intention, to ask her out. How had it gone so horribly wrong? "Bella, wait, let me explain—" I said, but she cut me off.

"No! Just leave me alone, Edward." The line disconnected.

I tried calling her again and again, but she clearly wasn't going to answer.

Finally I gave up, and slid to the ground. I'd screwed things up, that much was obvious. Was there any way for me to make it better?

*****

Yeah, I know. I suck. Don't worry, it only gets better from here. Not much left, though. We have one more chapter to go, and then the epilogue. If you're all really nice and review this chapter, I'll try and swallow my embarrassment and include a lemon in the next one.