All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer; I just like to play with her characters.

No copyright infringement is intended.

HUGE thanks to my betas and pre-reader, darcysmom, twimom817 and EdwardsMyObsession1971 – without these ladies, this wouldn't be worth reading.

A/N: I know, I know. I wasn't going to post anything because I was *supposed* to be working on my essay for my English final, BUT the plot bunny bit me and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote this story. So … I wrote it …. ALL of it. It's a little different from my norm, but I hope you'll like it anyway.


Second Chances


Chapter One


When I envisioned myself being a journalist, I never imagined having to work my way up the ranks. I thought it would be a matter of applying at the right place at the right time. I was so naïve, and I couldn't have been more wrong.

Ideally, I would have taken the intern position I was offered at the Seattle Times. I had high hopes of learning the ropes before settling into a comfortable writing position. Unfortunately, life wasn't so kind to me and I never got to start my internship. So, years later, here I am. I'm writing, but it's not the kind of writing I want to make a career out of.

William "The Wolf" Murphy

William "The Wolf" Murphy passed away Saturday due to complications stemming from a brain aneurism. Murphy was a long time resident of Chicago and a well-respected lawyer. Head of a firm he built from the ground up, Murphy was one of Chicago's top ten entrepreneurs. Survived by his wife Linda, his two daughters, and four grandchildren, Murphy will be remembered for the life he lived, the love he gave, and the sacrifices he made to get there. Services will be held at Fourth Presbyterian Church on Friday at two o'clock. In lieu of flowers, the family requests donations be made to the National Society for the Blind in honor of Murphy's late mother, Vera.

Obituaries. I write obituaries for a living. But I guess that writing about someone's life gives you perspective on your own. Never in a million years would I have thought that this is the way my life would turn out.

"Hey Bella?"

Angela, a girl from the research department, was the closest person I had to a friend since I moved to Chicago and started at the Tribune. She took me under her wing and showed me the ropes of Chicago – and in truth the paper too. It was the least I could do to go and hang out with her, even if I really wasn't up to going to bars and "hanging out".

"What's up?"

"A few of us are heading to Gino's tonight. Think you'll feel up to joining us? There's this guy …."

"Ange, I'd love to go, but I'm not up to being set up."

"Bella … I was going to say there's this guy that I like and we've been talking and he's going to be there with a few of his friends and he invited us to come along."

God, did I feel stupid. Here I thought she wanted to set me up with someone and all she wanted to do was ask me to come along with her because she didn't want to go alone.

"Oh, God, Ange. I feel like such an ass. I'm sorry. Sure I'll come along, but I don't want to stay too late, okay?"

"Sure, thanks, Bella. Meet you at your apartment around 6:30?"

"Sure, sounds good."

Out of all the people I interacted with at the office, Angela was the only person who didn't ask questions or give me strange looks. I know how I looked to all of them – the plain Jane who only came to work and went home, with virtually no social life what-so-ever unless Angela invited me out.

Later that night, Angela and I walked into Gino's, and I already had it set in my mind how the night would play out. It turned out that the guy Angela was crushing on was one of the guys who worked on the beat section of the paper. Angela introduced Ben to me, and he smiled widely and shook my hand and asked if I worked at the paper.

"Yeah, I write the obits."

"Oh man, that job sucks. Although, it is one step above the classifieds." Ben chuckled.

"Yeah, that's true."

"How long have you been at the Tribune, Bella?"

"Umm, about eight months?"

I'm not sure why it came out as a question, but I looked to Angela to clarify – after all she was indeed a fact checker.

"Yeah, eight months is about right," Angela verified with a smile.

Ben introduced us to his friend Eric who came back to the table carrying a pitcher of beer and a stack of cups. Eric was in the sales department, and his was a face I knew all too well. He gave me grief on a daily basis. Eric's eyes went wide as he realized exactly who I was.

"You're the dead girl."

Angela gasped beside me and before I could say anything, Ben punched him and Angela was berating him for opening his mouth.

"Eric! What the hell? Do you ever think before you speak?" Angela asked.

"I … erm … uhh."

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Angela said angrily before turning to me. "Bella, I'm so sorry. Eric apparently doesn't have a verbal filter."

"It's okay, Ange … you don't have to apologize for him. I think I'm gonna go."

"No, Bella. Please don't leave. I want you here, please stay."

"Ange … I don't belong here. You don't have to sugarcoat things to make me feel better. I'll see you tomorrow."

I gathered up my things and got up to leave.

"Bella, wait … at least let me call you a cab. I don't want you out by yourself, it's not safe. My treat?" Ben asked.

I nodded and told him that I'd wait out on the sidewalk. Ben walked me out and when the cab pulled up, he tossed the driver forty bucks and asked me to text Ange when I got home so they knew I got there safely.

Sitting in the back of the cab watching the city lights blur, I found myself longing for a different place and a different time.


A/N: Thoughts? I'm anxious to see what y'all think!

Not to repeat myself but this story is written in his entirety. In case you're wondering – yes, it's shorter chapters (MUCH shorter for me) and there will be 12 chapters total. So, I'll be posting a chapter a day, because I know what happens and as I post each chapter, I'm sure you'll want to know what the heck is going on too!

Thanks for reading!

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