It's Monday again, so here is the next chapter!

Thank you to all of my readers and those who put my story on alert!

This chapter contains a bit about Bella's life outside of James, and some background information on her life.

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Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight (unfortunately) and all of the characters, but this plot is all mine!

EPOV

"So how did it go with James?" asked Emmett, sitting in my leather swivel chair, his feet propped up on my desk.

"Well, he signed it," I said while filing my patient records.

"So you own half the hospital?"

"Yep."

"How was your date with him?" Emmett smirked.

"Pretty uneventful, I like to at least get a peck on the cheek on the first date," I joked. "But seriously, it was weird. He didn't talk much, unless he was yelling orders at his wife as if she is his slave. He seems to treat her like a slave as well; the house was spotless, the food spectacular and she was dressed like a proper housewife. I don't think she works, she can't have time in between the cleaning and cooking."

"Bella? Yeah she works," said Emmett, biting into the apple which was for my lunch.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Bella Denali. She works at the little bakery next to my office. I buy stuff from her every day; I'm one of her regulars. She's lovely, and a fantastic cook."

"And you never thought to mention this?" I asked indignantly.

Emmett shrugged. "What would have been the point?"

"Does she seem happy?" I asked, confused.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Well, her and James don't really have a very...you know...spousal relationship."

"Spousal? Is that even a word?" Emmett sniggered.

"It is now," I replied. "He treats her like a slave, not a wife, and she acts like he's her master, like he has a weird hold or something on her. It doesn't seem like a genuine marriage."

Emmett shrugged again. "She seems happy enough at the bakery." He checked his watch. "Want to pay her a visit?"

"How come I never noticed this place before?" I asked.

"Maybe you should open your eyes once in a while Eddie," Emmett snorted.

We were stood outside a small building, made from small ochre stones. It had three stone steps leading up to it, and large school windows on either side of the door, there were trails of purple flowers, similar to bougainvilleas flowing over the sides of the windows, and over the railings of the stairs. It seemed to have two floors, however the top floor looked to have only one room, as the roof sloped upwards into a point, and the shop was so small anyway.

We entered, and a small bell chimed. The most fantastic fragrances assaulted my senses.

On the right hand side, a long counter ran down the whole length, about ten metres, and beneath the counter was a long glass cabinet, which was curved slightly outwards. In this were various cakes, buns, rolls, pastries, all looking mouth wateringly delicious. On the left, were a collection of small wooden tables, with two chairs around each.

At the moment, it was fairly empty, except for a few people who were sitting and reading the paper while drinking a coffee or eating a pastry.

Behind the counter, stood a woman with her back to us, she seemed to be wearing an apron over some black trousers and a green blouse. Her silky hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she seemed to be rolling something out on the back counter, where there were rows of jars lined up.

"Hey, Bella!" called Emmett, and the woman turned round, and I think my jaw literally hit the floor when I caught realised who it was.

"Hi Emmett," she replied in a friendly voice, as we approached the counter. "Edward, wasn't it?" she asked me with a smile.

"Yes," was my brilliant reply. "I didn't know this was your bakery," I added, trying to redeem myself.

She gave a musical laugh, looking beautiful as she did so. " Yep, this place is my baby. So what can I get you gentlemen?"

Emmett looked around. "It's not too busy today for once."

"No, you just missed the breakfast rush. It's almost ten am now, most people are at work."

"Oh, that's right," added Emmett, as if he already knew this. I shot him a look.

"Why don't you pick for us?" Emmett asked. He turned to me. "She does this thing, it's like magic, she picks something that she thinks you will definitely like, or you are in the mood for."

Bella laughed again, blushing slightly.

"Mind if we watch?" Emmett asked.

"Course not," Bella replied, and she turned around and started working.

She set two cups over by a coffee machine on the back counter, and started it, as hot streams of liquid poured out of it. She then turned and picked up two luncheon plates and set them over by us. From the front cabinet, she then selected a strawberry tartlet, sprinkled with pistachios, and a Danish pastry with some kind of dark jam in the middle of it, and set each one down on a plate. By now, the drinks were done, and she brought over the cups, and placed them next to the plates.

"Don't forget the icing sugar!" Emmett sang playfully, as Bella laughed.

She turned around again, and reached up to a shelf to get the icing sugar from a small silver tub. As she reached up, he sleeve fell back a little to expose her forearm.

It was covered in fading blue and purple bruises, going around her arm. There seemed to be four long ones, and another slightly shorter bruise next to them. Shaped exactly like a hand.

She turned around again, as me and Emmett exchanged worried glances.

"One blueberry Danish crown and cafe macchiato for you Emmett, and a strawberry tartlet for you Edward with a mocha," she said whilst sprinkling the icing sugar over.

"Bella, what happened to your arm?" Emmett asked her gently.

She looked panicked for a second, but hid it quickly.

"What's wrong with my arm?" she asked, turning around and starting to roll out some pastry.

"The bruises," Emmett replied.

She didn't answer.

"Was it James?"

"What? No! Of course not!" she said. "I hit it on the door the other day, you know how clumsy I am," she said, giving a fake little laugh. "Try your food!"

We both started eating to satisfy her; the food was good. Really good.

"Bella, cut the crap. The bruises are the shape of a hand. Who was it?" she didn't answer Emmett's questions, and continued rolling.

"Why are you with him Bella?" I asked softly. "You obviously don't love eachother like a husband and wife should, anyone can see that. What's the reason?"

"I love my husband very much!" she exploded. "Just because we don't show it all the time, doesn't mean we don't! Don't assume you know anything about me!" she was facing me now, and her face was flushed and her eyes danced with anger.

"It was James, wasn't it?"

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