Hey guys! I was dreaming one night when a muse popped by and threw this idea upon me. I decided that the plot would best fit Edward and Bella the most, so that brings me here.

I tried something new with this.. YES, I'M WRITING IN PRESENT TENSE. This is my first time, so please tell me if I have any verb-related mistakes, and I'll be glad to fix them. Also, I might switch inbetween tenses with each chapter depending on how comfortable I am.

Sorry in advance for the confusion! I'd also like to apologize now if I end up not finishing this and leaving loose ends (pun intended). I'll try my best to get as far as my creativity allows me to!

Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Steph Meyer. I'm only borrowing her characters for my fan urges and needs.


Finding Loose Ends
I

Her vision is assaulted by a field of bright white and she can faintly detect the distant sound of constant beeping. Her thoughts are scrambled and she tries to focus on something tangible.

The acrylic painting of a busy seaport.

The argyle patterned walls.

The glass vase of golden tulips.

She closes her eyes and attempts to recall the events that occurred the last time she was fully conscious, but mentally comes crashing headfirst into a concrete wall. The pang at the side of her head is too intense to shrug off.

The mattress below her body is less than comfortable and although she is dressed in a baby blue gown, she feels exposed to the cool air. She yawns and then stretches out her limbs, careful to not touch any of the expensive equipment.

Her legs are sore from days of non-use and swallowing is impossible because her throat is so parched. She reaches for the glass of water on the untouched tray beside her and drinks greedily in tiny sips.

Using her torso, she rotates herself and swings her thighs over the side so that her sock-clad feet dangle in the air. She positions her hands beside her and prepares to lift herself and then take a quick stroll. Hopefully, one of the nurses outside could clue her in on some obvious details that she was missing.

Her mind is in a faraway place and she thinks about the last time she had a decent meal when a brusque voice interrupts her thoughts. "Planning to run away from me again?"

She turns to face the speaker and finds herself checking out the handsome man sitting by the window. A grey laptop rests opened on the oak coffee table beside him and his long fingers are wrapped around a cup of Starbucks. With the other hand, he deftly dabs a paper napkin across his lower lip.

His hair is wild and untamed, yet beautiful from every angle. Copper red tones blend with mocha brown to create the perfect combination on his head. Her fingers itch to rake across his scalp and she suddenly has the urge to pull him into her chest and take a deep breath of his shampoo.

His eyes are sunken and his under-eye bags are very noticeable. His pale skin takes on a hint of an unearthly shade of green and his thin lips are pulled into a straight line. His stubble and wrinkled button up are additional signs that this man is in dire need of a shave and days' worth of sleep.

However, none of his features, even his cold emerald orbs register any bit of familiarity to her. She feels some kind of hazy connection to him, but beyond that, she has never seen this person before in her life.

"I wouldn't count on you being successful at that, so it's best to abandon your escape plans now. You aren't going anywhere until I get some coherent answers." His words, though laced with menace, exude manliness and confidence.

His bluntness offends her, "Excuse me? How dare you such barge into my… my hospital room while I'm asleep and then spout a barrage of ridiculous demands before even introducing yourself! Have you no manners?"

He scoffs, "Manners? You're one to talk of introductions." They both stare at each other in heated silence.

His eyes are full of fury and frustration while hers are just confused. "Have you forgotten the face of your own husband, Isabella?" he finally asks through gritted teeth.

Her eyes widen by several millimeters. "My husband? You've got to be fucking with me. H-How did I marry someone like—"

"Like me? Don't you think I've been asking myself the same question every night since the day you left?" He bends down lower, his hands now covering his face.

"Well, why would I leave you? Were you abusing me?" she narrows her eyes.

Surprise flashes across his feature, "No! What on earth would make you think of such an absurd idea?"

"I don't know," she sighs. "How was our relationship then?"

His voice softens, "I loved you. You and Ness were the world to me. We were living comfortably in our new house. I made sure you were provided for, that we always had food to eat, that you were safe. I thought you were happy... but this, this, I never saw it coming."

She becomes more lost with every additional piece of information that he provides. "Look here," she pauses and shoots a conspicuous glance at the man's visitors pass. "Edward. I'm really sorry for everything and the trouble you've been through because it looks like you've had a past couple of rough nights. I really would say something to put your mind at ease if I could, but it feels like I've had a dozen construction workers pounding their hammers against my skull ever since I opened my eyes and frankly, I don't remember anything. I don't know where this is, how I got here, what I've been doing the past few years. I don't know anything, and that scares shitless."

He frowns, and tries to pry for more, "Don't you remember anything at all?"

She nods, "Well, all I know is that I was born in Phoenix, Arizona and that my name is Isabella Marie Swan."

"Cullen," he adds without a pause.

"What?" she looks at him as if he's grown a third eye.

"Your name. It's Isabella Marie Swan Cullen," he clarifies with ease.

"Oh yes, I must have forgotten that I managed to wed some bitter hunk sometime in this twenty something year gap of my life that's more vague than a Chinese proverb from a fortune cookie." She rolls her eyes.

He doesn't even crack a smile at her blatant sarcasm. "And your point?"

"Don't you see how difficult this is for me to process? I don't even know my own name, for God's sake!" She throws her hands up in exasperation.

He decides to probe one last time even though he knows his questions are futile. "So you don't know who Ness is or where she is either?"

She shakes her head and feels the disappointment in the air. "I don't." She can sense that this is something she should know, but the name doesn't even ring a bell. "Tell me about her," she whispers.

"Renesmee Marie Cullen is our 15-month old daughter. You took her when you left." Her mouth forms a perfect o. "They said she wasn't there in the car when they found you," he adds bitterly.

Bella bites her lip. She wants to slap herself. How could she forget her daughter, her very own flesh and blood? She was starting to dislike herself more and more as she learned of her past. "She wasn't there…" she repeats.

"Look Bella, I promise to get out of your hair as soon as we find her and then after that, I'll agree to joint custody if that's what you want, but you can't just take her away from me like that." His voice begins to tremble, "all I want is Ness."

"I want to find her just as much as you do. You sound like a loving father so I don't know why I would have run away from you like that, but we're going to figure this out together and work things out as soon as I start remembering things," she compromises.

He still looks skeptical, "I have to be the first one you tell, but I don't expect that to be too difficult. I'm not letting you out of my sight as soon as we leave this place. Sorry to break it to you, but you aren't even near my list of trustworthy people."

"Thanks," she spits. "How do I even know if I can trust you? For all I know, all that you've told me could have been a web of elaborate lies." She crosses her arms in front of her chest and attempts to look defiant.

He doesn't say anything. His hand shoots to his wireless mouse and he clicks once. He rotates the top half of his laptop so that the screen faces her and her breath hitches in her throat. She is looking at his wallpaper, a photo of her, Edward, and a little brunette baby sitting a park bench.

The shot is candid and their expressions are serene. She feels her chest constrict when she studies every detail of her beloved Renesmee. Her cute button nose, pink floral dress, cream ballet flats, faint dimples, missing teeth, short fingers, everything.

She feels a lone tear trail down her left cheek, but she makes no move to wipe it. She catches Edward with a look of nostalgia donning his features as he reminisces that moment of the past. "Tell me about it?"

He looks out the window, his mind is no longer in the present, "I came home from work and you had a picnic basket on the kitchen counter. You were so proud of the lasagna and spinach dip that you made from scratch. We got to the top of the hill and then you opened the basket. You were so angry; you forgot to pack the food. So we walked around and stopped at a cart to buy hot dogs. After that, I bought you a see-through basket so you could always see what you had inside."

She can't decide between berating herself for leaving such a great guy or patting herself on the back for finding such a great guy. She chooses to probe deeper. Surely, there must be something off about him, something hidden behind that perfectly chiseled face of his. "Uhh, are you sure you never umm…beat me?"

His jaw drops in one quick motion. She can see his perfectly straight bottom row of team. "I know I have a temper, but to suggest such a thing… you really must not know me at all." He shakes his head slowly and then gazes at her tenderly, "Bella, I would never hurt you."

The sadness in his voice jabbed at her heart. If he wasn't the problem, then was it her? 'Am I really the one to blame for everything? Did I try to kill myself to take away this man's world?' she contemplates. 'I wonder what would have prompted me to do such a thing.'

He suddenly snaps out of his reverie. This evil woman before him was not to be underestimated. He knows what she is capable of and he decides not to let his soft side show again. She doesn't deserve his worrying or anything he has to offer.

Once he has his daughter again, he is willing to part ways with the beauty on the bed and never see her again. She left him once, and he isn't going to provide her the opportunity to leave him another time. He will show no kindness. "Anyways, we're going to need to work together. I expect your full cooperation and discretion. You have three weeks' worth of information to dig up and we're going to have to work as fast as possible."

He opens his briefcase and pulls out a file. "I just need your signature in a few places to ensure that you agree to my terms. I'm not taking any risks from here on."

She looks at his hesitantly, "I promise to follow your guidelines and all, but are the papers really necessary?"

"I remember telling you that I don't exactly trust you."

"You did, but I'm not the same person that married you," she defends herself.

"Are you going to do it or not?"

"I'll earn back your trust even if I have to pay a visit to the darkest depths of hell and fight off bloodthirsty vampires," she declares.

They stare at each other again for a few moments, when a nurse walks in, "I see you're finally awake, Isabella. Good morning Mr. Cullen, I have to take a few measurements to make sure that Mrs. Cullen's status is stable before she can be released."

Edward set down his coffee and stood up. He easily towered over the petite woman in his 6'1" glory. "Of course, Nurse Sophie. I'll just wait outside until you finish then," he smiles charmingly at the middle-aged blonde, who blushes abashedly in response. She might have been married, but that didn't grant her immunity from incredibly attractive men even if they were half her age.

"Thank you for understanding, Mr. Cullen," she replies shyly.

Bella keeps her eyes glued to his retreating form. He pauses before reaching the door and calls over his shoulder, "And dearest wife, don't let me down."

She does a small victory cheer in her head. She was getting a second chance and she sure as hell wasn't going to blow it. They would get to the bottom of this and she could only pray with every ounce of her being that she didn't screw up too baldy in her past, because she was willing to beg for Edward's forgiveness if that's what it took to keep him.

I
End


Well that's it for now folks. My chapters are going to be about this length unless if I go on a typing craze or I can't fit something in 2k words.

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