AN: I don't own Twilight.

Thanks to those of you who review. They are greatly appreciated.

Apparently there is something wrong with the site. Whenever I upload, it keeps squeezing all my words together into one big mess. I have tried to fix it several times, but it's not working. I am hoping it fixes itself, if not I will try to update this chapter AGAIN.

On with the story….

|Bella|

I wake up to the sun shining through the sheer white curtains that hang from the large bay window in my master bedroom.

My bed is big and soft and oh so warm.

I contemplate staying here for another few hours or until Rose calls me to ask where I am at. We are supposed to meet at the studio at nine in the morning, to go over applications for the mentoring program.

Knowing that I won't get any sleep anyways, because Rose will inevitably call and hound me, I get up to prepare for the day. My first stop is the kitchen, where I turn on the coffee pot and then proceed to the bathroom to shower and brush my teeth. I have a meeting with my business accountant today at noon, so I decide to wear a cream colored pencil skirt that end's just above my knees and fits my lower body like a glove. I choose a white cotton camisole to go under my sheer white blouse and pull out my favorite pair of red Giuseppe Zanotti stiletto heels. After a moment of debating, I also add a thin red belt to the ensemble, clasping it just above my waist. I style my hair in a loose bun and apply a small amount of makeup, just a touch of mascara and eyeliner and then my favorite red lipstick.

It takes me all of forty minutes to get ready. I fill my travel mug with coffee before grabbing my car keys from the kitchen counter. When I arrive at the studio, Rose isn't there. How ironic that I will be the one calling and hounding her today. It isn't like Rose to be late. She usually prides herself on her ability to be on time everywhere she go's. Sitting down in my chair, I pull my phone from my leather camera bag that also doubles as a purse. I scroll down to Rose's name on my call history list and press send. It rings three times before I hear the familiar noise of the industrial metal door to the studio sliding open.

"Sorry I'm late."Rose says, sliding the door closed behind her.

"Traffic was a bitch." She explains.

"They really shouldn't have changed the intersection over on 23rd street. It's freaking ridiculous that you can only turn right on the far lane now….." She trails off when she see's my face.

"Spill it Rose."

"Spill what?" She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Oh, come on! Traffic was a bitch? You can do better than that Rose. You don't look like you've been to bed at all."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I have kept my mouth shut long enough. What the hell is going on! Rose….I'm worried. You can tell me anything. You know that right?" I plead. I see a lone tear make its way down her cheek before she wipes it away.

"Ok, I….just let me sit down." She pulls up a chair to my desk and gets comfortable. I wait patiently while she sips her coffee and pretends to straighten her shirt. I am just about ready to demand an answer when she suddenly speaks.

"I've been having an affair….with a married man." She says in a casual tone, as if she just told me it might rain today.

"What? When? I mean how long? Who…."

"His name is Robert and he said he was leaving her, his wife. But he hasn't. I am beginning to see that he probably never will." she ducks her head when another tear makes an appearance.

"I haven't been with Royce, I lied, I'm so sorry Bella, I just, I'm just so ashamed of myself." A sudden pang of guilt hits me when I realize that she feels guilty for lying to me. Haven't I been lying to her also? Before I can fully plan out what my next words are going to be, my brain decides to tell my mouth to move, and the only words that come out are not what I was planning at all.

"I had sex with Jake!" I practically scream.

Rose's face transforms from guilty, to confused, to shocked in an instant.

"What!" she exclaims.

"When the hell did this happen? Are you two seeing each other?" she says in one easy breath.

"No. It was just a onetime thing. I swear."

"Well…..how was it!" she says impatiently. "I don't remember"

"What do you mean you don't remember!"

"I was drunk. He drove me home, I woke up next to him." I am startled by the unexpected uproar of laughter that comes from roses mouth. She is clutching her stomach and bent over at the waist, almost falling out of her chair.

"Har har har, laugh it up." I take sip from my travel mug and roll my begins to calm herself, wiping the tears from her eyes and straightening her now lopsided shirt. Once she has gained some control, she turns back to me.

"Oh, Bella. I'm sorry, It's just…this type of thing only happens to you."

"What type of thing? A one night stand? Plenty of people have one night stands."

"No, the part where you have sex with Jacob Black and can't even remember it! What a bummer" she says with a look of sympathy on her face.

"I don't like Jake like that. It's probably for the best that I don't remember."

"Bella, a part of you is clearly attracted to him, that's at least twice now that you have fallen into bed with the man."

"Yeah, the drunken, airheaded part of me."

"So… you're only attracted to him when you're drunk?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"That's a shame, I mean, let's face it, Jake is pretty hot." she quirks one eyebrow.

"I won't deny that he is….attractive. I know he is attractive. I'm not blind, Rose. I just don't feel that….spark."

"Unless you're drunk."Rose adds.

"Yeah, so anyways, what are you going to do about Robert?" I try bringing the conversation back to her own dirty revelation. I don't want to see her miserable again, but she clearly needs to talk about it.

"We broke it off last night." She says with a sigh.

"I just couldn't do it anymore."

"Rose, you're not a bad person. If you were, you wouldn't feel so bad."

"I just…..I don't know. Screw men. I'm ready to get back to me. Men suck." Her voice has the ring of finality to it.

"Well, if you need to talk, I'm here." I look her in the eye, letting her know I am being serious.

"Yeah, I know. Thanks Bells." We both sit there in a comfortable silence for a few moments before we get down to business.

"Ok, so…I have a few applications here that may be promising." Rose says, pulling out her ipad from her large messenger bag. She powers it on and accesses what she is looking for before she hands the ipad over to me.

"The first applicant is an 18 year old senior boy at Cambridge. He doesn't have a lot of portraiture in his portfolio, but his landscape and architectural shots are stunning."

I scroll through the application and read the most important section, the section that tells me what I need to know in order to determine the right candidate. Under the "Reason for wanting to be an apprentice" section of the application, the student has put a fairly generic response.

I would like to enhance my photography skills and become more familiar with portraiture.

I scroll down to open the image attachments. His photos are all mostly landscape and architectural, like Rose said. Although they are nice, they aren't anything that takes my breath away. I don't see this kid having a passion for what I do; I don't want to waste my time and his. He clearly isn't meant to do portraiture. He will probably go on to photograph vistas and mountains for National Geographic.

"Next." I mutter, using my finger to flick over to the next application.

The next application is from a seventeen year old girl who is also a senior at Cambridge. She specializes in portraiture, but her photos lack passion. I have seen this many times before. She is either burned out from photography and has forgotten her passion, or she really isn't interested to begin with. She may have taken photography because she thought it would be easy and she could get a good grade. Judging from her portfolio, I would lean more towards the latter of the two. This process continues on for over an hour, until I have reached the end of the list. I haven't seen one application or one photo that makes me feel inspired to mentor.

"I think we will just skip out this year" I tell Rose with a sigh.

"I thought you would say that…and that is why I saved the best… for last."She says with a smile.

"What are you talking about?"

"Let me pull it up on your computer, the ipad doesn't do it justice." Rose explains, leaning over me to pull something up on my computer.

She finds what she is looking for and then sits back down, allowing me to finally see the computer monitor. There, on my computer screen, is a beautifully haunting photo.

It is a black and white photo of a long sidewalk, taken from down low, almost perfectly level with the ground. The sidewalk is marred with chalk drawing and simple hopscotch squares, In the square farthest from the camera, there is a pair of tiny feet, delicately dancing along the pavement. The owner of the feet is wearing what appears to be a white tea length dress. The sun is low in the sky, probably just before sunset, and it shines from right behind the small child. It causes an eerie glow around the little girl's feet and illuminates the sheer fabric that hangs down and softly billows around her calves. It is amazingly simple, clean and beautiful. It evokes emotion and memories and brings me back to childhood summers.

"Who took this?" I ask Rose.

"Elizabeth M. Cullen" she says, sitting the ipad back down in front of me.

"This is her application" Rose points to the ipad.

I read through the entire thing at least a half dozen times. Her words are beautiful and well written and show a reverence for photography that may even rival my own.

I am sure she is the rightful owner of the mentorship. I just know it.

"I want her, call her in for an interview. Tell her she starts this Saturday." I say with finality.

I take one last glance at the ipad before I notice her age.

"Jesus Rose, this girl is only sixteen years old, according to her birthday, she just turned sixteen!"

"I know Bella, but she was just so perfect. I figured we could make an exception."

I mull over the idea in my head. She is perfect for the spot. But she is just so young. I cannot imagine a girl that age being able to understand sexuality, sensuality and lust. The majority of my work is boudoir photography. It requires that knowledge. When I was that age, I could not even look at a naked man on the television in the privacy of my own room without blushing.

"I don't know Rose, Maybe next year, when she is a little older." I say with a sigh.

I save the photo as my screen saver on my P.C and start rounding my things up.

"I have an appointment with Randal to go over taxes. Are you going to stick around or…?"

"Yeah, I have to organize the schedule for next week and send out some invoices. I'll call you later"

"Later Rose."

I say as I head towards the door. Before I exit, I turn back to her.

"Are you sure you're going to be OK?" I ask her with a level stare.

"Yeah, Bells. I'll be fine."

I give her a tight smile and exit the studio.

I meet Randal at a swanky martini bar named The Blue Stem. It's a frequent hang out of mine and Rose's when it's just us girls. They have a nice relaxed atmosphere and great drink specials on Thursday evenings.

"Bella, good to see you again." Randal greets me with a smile.

I shake his hand before taking my seat at the bar.

"You too Randal. Anything important we need to discuss?"I ask before the bartender arrives.

"I'll have a dirty martini, extra dry." I place my order.

"Nothing too significant, you do a fairly good job at keeping everything in order. However I did want to go over a few transactions that you are missing receipts for." He opens a blue folder that has Photography written on the front of it.

"Sure, what transactions are you referring to?" I lean forward, peering into the folder.

He pulls out a single sheet of paper and sets it in front of me. There are three transactions that are highlighted in the month of January. I read through them, trying to determine what they could have been for. One is for $1671.86, purchased in January fifteenth. I immediately know that this transaction was for the new 85mm 1.4 G lens that Nikkor released in January.

The other transactions are smaller, and I can't remember what they or for.

"It's no worry, I was more concerned about the larger transaction anyways" Randal says.

After my meeting with Randal, I decide to head to the grocery store to do my weekly shopping. I am out of milk and eggs and I also need more laundry soap. My favorite grocery store is just a block from my house; it's a small market that is far less crowded then the larger chain stores in the area. It's also a lot more expensive, but it's worth the extra expense to not have to push your way through crowded spaces and listen to screaming children, only to wait in line for half an hour before you finally reach the checkout stand. I am pushing my cart down the home goods aisle, trying to find my favorite brand of free and clear detergent, when I am interrupted by a familiar presence.

He saunters up to me with that smug smile on his face, and I want to slap it off.

"Hey Bella, long time no see." Mike stops right in front of my cart, making it impossible for me to maneuver away from him.

"Yeah, Mike that's what usually happens when two people get a divorce." I don't make eye contact with him; I continue scanning the shelf for the correct detergent instead.

He places both of his hands on the front of the cart, as if to keep me in place. He can probably see the desire to flee written all over my face.

"What brings you here? Doesn't your new girlfriend live over on Bay Street?" I ask him.

That's like….11 miles away. I calculate in my head. What the fuck is he doing here?

"I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that you owned this side of town, Bella."

"Well now you know, asshole" I begin pushing against the cart, making it clear that I want him to move out of my way.

"Why are you still so bitter?"

"Gee Mike, I don't know, maybe because you're a lying cheating asshole who has mommy issues. I wasted a very valuable three years of my life on your sorry ass and I didn't even get a lousy fuckin' tee shirt." I say through my teeth.

"Now, get the fuck out of my way. Now."

I push a little harder on the cart, putting all of my weight into it and using the floor as leverage. It doesn't even budge an inch.

"Bella, you were married to your fucking camera, not me. You only have yourself to blame. I wanted a wife, not a roommate"

"Yeah, no. You wanted someone who is just like your mother. You wanted someone to be at your beck and call and dote on you like you hung the fuckin' moon!"

"What's wrong with wanting that? My mother is a good wife, a good mother; she took good care of me and my father. It's not like it's a horrible thing to be a good wife and homemaker Bella!"

"I don't want to be anyone's doormat Michael. We already discussed this; we discussed it before the divorce, during the divorce and after the divorce. I am done discussing it with you." I begin to realize he is not going to give up.

I sigh, grabbing my purse from the cart; I turn around and walk down the aisle. I hear him calling my name as I exit the store. I don't even bother looking back.

Once I am back at my house, without the groceries I wanted. I sit down on the couch and turn the T.V on. I'm not really watching it; it's just something to fill the silence. I look around at the place I call home and wonder where I went wrong.

I'm twenty-six years old and divorced. My career is at its peak, I'm independent, financially stable, and have everything I ever wanted. I am also indescribably lonely. This is not how I thought my personal life would end up. I had a plan, goals, hopes and dreams.

I just chose the wrong man to share them with.

I had wanted an equal partner; instead I got a demanding dictator.

I wanted a lover, and instead he turned out to be the person I hate the most in this world.

I wanted a companion, but he was the worst company to keep.

I wanted a baby, or two. I really did. I thought that by this time in my life I would at least be planning a pregnancy. Now I don't even have a potential partner in sight. Life sucks.

That is the moral behind this mini pity party of mine.

My cell phone rings, bringing me out of my senseless wallowing. The screen reads Charlie.

"Hi dad." I say as soon as I answer.

"Hey kid, I haven't heard from you in a while, just wanted to see how you're doing over there in the big city."

"Yeah, sorry. I just got really busy at work and forgot to keep in touch. I'm doing well though." I respond.

"That good, so how's your business doing?"

"It's doing really great, dad. I really love my job"

"I'm so proud of you Bella. Not many people can make a business work at such a young age. I just wanted to ask you if you are coming for a visit this summer. June is almost here and I was going to take the boat out of storage. I thought we could maybe plan a camping trip when you come."

Shit

"Yeah, dad. That sounds great. I don't know when I will be making a trip home yet. I have a pretty full schedule for this summer but I'll get a hold of you soon and let you know when I can make it"

"Alright Bells, I'll let you get back to it then. I miss you kid", He says gruffly, not much for heartfelt goodbyes.

"I miss you too dad. Talk to you later."

"Take care." He ends the call.

I pull up the calendar on my iphone and look for an open weekend that I can take off to make a trip to Washington. I don't have the mentorship to do anymore, so that will free up some time. I will have to ask Rose when I go to the studio tomorrow, just to make sure. She is in charge of all the scheduling.

I turn my attention to the T.V for the first time this evening. I'm watching one of those ridiculous celebrity gossip programs. They are currently featuring a story about rapper, E. Cullen and his ex wife. Apparently the court documents were leaked to the public and they were full of accusations from both parties. I listen to the commentator spill someone's personal business to the rest of the nation. I can't help but be intrigued. It's human nature, I suppose.

They roll a clip of an extremely scrawny blonde woman standing on the front steps of what appears to be a courthouse. She is yelling in her ex husbands face. The cameras are jockeying for position, all of them trying to get the best picture to sell to the magazines and post on their shitty blogs. The entire scene reminds me of a Jerry Springer episode. The woman is an absolute nut job. Her head is practically spinning around while she screams unintelligible words. I keep waiting for her to puke green slime and do the bridge walk down the stairs. Thoroughly disgusted with myself for watching this nonsense, I turn the T.V off with a scowl.

I decide to call it a night. As I am lying in bed, trying to fall asleep, all I can hope for is a better day in the morning. ************************************************** ************************* ************************************************** *****

I am rudely awoken by the sound of my cell phone ringing nonstop.

I look at the alarm clock that sits on my bedside table and scowl at the time.

6:15 in the damn morning.

I don't even bother looking at the name on the screen; I simply slide my finger across the bar to accept the call.

"Yeah?" I answer, a little testy.

"Hey Bella, its Ben, I need to talk to you for a moment. I apologize about the time but I am getting ready to board a plane to Utah in a few minutes and wanted to speak with you before I do. I sit up, trying to rub the sleep out of my eyes. "Alright, what's up?"

"I wanted to know why I am hearing around the grapevine that you have decided to not do the mentorship program this year. You need to tell me these things, Bella, so I can be in the know and be ready for damage control. I don't like being caught off guard. As your agent, I am going to strongly advise you to not go through with this. It makes you look bad, like a pompous, spoiled brat who thinks she is too good to contribute to the art community. You should consider this carefully. Once you decide to go against the grain, there is no going back. Are you prepared for the potential repercussions of this decision?"

Looks like today is not going to be a good one after all.

"Look Ben, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just decided yesterday that I am going to skip it this year. My apprentice decided to get pregnant and is unable to travel to Chicago. I looked for a local replacement and I couldn't really find anyone, so I made a decision and that decision is final." I can hear Ben's irritated sigh on the other end of the phone. I hear a woman's voice call out for flight 184 to Utah.

"Alright Bella, can we talk more about this when I get back to Chicago?"

"There's really not a lot to discuss, but sure. Swing by the studio when you get the chance."

"Thanks' Bella, I'll be in touch soon." The line disconnects before I can respond.