A/N: *hand holding*

Bella's boss, Jessica, was nice enough as bosses went. She wasn't that much older. They could have been friends in high school. She also had an annoying habit of talking with saccharine sweetness. It kind of made Bella conjure daydreams of punching her in the mouth. She couldn't possibly sound that placating with no teeth.

"I'm so sorry, Bella. It'd be unfair not to let Tyler finish out the week at least. But I'm so glad you're feeling better."

Bella rested her head against the wall. She was half-slumped over, one arm braced against the kitchen table. "I need to work, Jess." She cleared her scratchy throat.

"It sounds like you need just a little more rest."

"Jess—"

"Bella, I'm sorry. I promised him the hours already."

"Tyler is a college kid who's working for a little extra spending cash."

"And he works hard."

"I didn't say he doesn't, but—" Bella clenched her jaw. Somehow, she stopped herself from bashing her head against the wall. "It's fine. I get it. Regular schedule next week?"

"Of course."

Bella hung up the phone, trying to relax. Frustration was getting the better of her already, and she needed to be calm before her next call. She checked the time. It was almost four—six in Texas. Almost time.

After another minute, Bella took one more deep breath. She blew it out slowly, closed her eyes, and connected the call.

He picked up after three rings with a soft, "Hello," as if he didn't know damn well who it was. As if her name wasn't splashed across his screen. What did he have it under, she wondered. Maybe Satan. It might as well have been for the way he treated her.

"I'm calling for Mac," she said, keeping her tone even.

"She's in the bath."

Bella pressed her lips together. She counted to five. "Liam, this is my time. I get half an hour every day at six. That's what the judge ordered."

"She was a mess," Liam said, sounding almost bored. "I'm not going to let her track mud all over her grandmother's house just because of a phone call. I was raised better than that, and Kenna will be too."

Bella bristled, reading between the lines easily enough. He was forever implying that if she had custody of Mac, she wouldn't raise her right. "Fine," she said between clenched teeth. "I can call back at six-thirty."

"I'm not obligated to answer the phone at that time."

"It's been a week. I missed one call because I was in the hospital, barely conscious. Why are you doing this to me?"

He scoffed. "Nothing ever changes. You only think of yourself, Bella. It shouldn't matter what you want. What matters is what my daughter needs. Her needs come first. A real mother would know that."

"I am her real mother. Our daughter was dirty. Not starving. Not bleeding. Not filthy and flea-ridden. She was dirty. She's four years old; don't tell me she's not dirty most of the time. A bath wasn't a necessity and you know it. A bath could have been put off half an hour."

"That's not up to you to decide."

"This is my time. If I lived there, I'd get her for days. All to myself. As it is, for thirty minutes a day, it's my time. All you have to do is give Mac the phone." She rubbed her temple, swallowing around the painful lump in her throat. "Look, I'm sorry you have to share our daughter. I know it wasn't the outcome you wanted, but I survived. Deal with it."

Now, she could hear the snarl in his voice. "What you did—"

"Is beside the point," she said, cutting him off before they could go down that old, tired road. "It can't be undone. If you want to punish me, find another way. Leave McKenna out of it. She's not a weapon, Liam. She's not a tool you use to hurt me."

"It's unbelievable how self-centered you are. No one needs a mother like you."

The line disconnected. Bella slammed a fist into the table. Even though she knew damn well what was going to happen, she called back once. Twice. Three times. The fourth time, it went straight to voicemail.

Burying her head in her folded arms, Bella muffled a scream of fury and frustration. It was a long scream. When she ran out of air, she took a deep, ragged breath and screamed again. She screamed again and again—wordless rage against injustice.

Impotent rage.

Anger gave way to a deep despair. She wanted her daughter. She needed her baby. She was missing something essential to her survival. For the last two years, she'd scraped by—the daily conversations with her little girl like a bandaid put over a gouge in her heart. Those conversations were the only link she had with her precious child. It was utter agony to be without her, and without that one small morsel of relief, there was no way she could survive.

A mother would move heaven and earth to get to her child. Easy to say, but the reality was different. Bella was helpless. Completely powerless.

Hopeless.

Eons might have passed before the vice grip around her chest, the claws digging into her heart, eased just a little. When Bella didn't feel like she was going to asphyxiate, smothered by grief and fury, she found a tiny ounce of perspective.

This wasn't the worst day. This wasn't rock bottom.

She remembered rock bottom so viscerally it made her stomach twist and chased the breath from her lungs. She remembered the exact moment of impact. She'd begun her free fall the second she was diagnosed, had freewheeled through the air and terrifying speeds, being pummeled all the while. And now she was here, her body dashed against the most unforgiving, jagged rocks and crushed by raining debris.

It hurt. There were no words for that kind of agony. She was crumpled on the floor of her bedroom. That was as far as her body had taken her before weakness swallowed her whole. She had no muscle, and no energy left. Her nerves were on fire. Her bones and muscles ached—the kind of hurt that was like the point of a blade digging, digging, digging to the marrow, spreading ice through her veins. She writhed as she retched, her body jolting and arching under the assault as her her stomach tried to turn itself inside out.

There. That moment. When she was covered in her own sick, curled in on herself, gasping for breath, prostrate in pain and completely, utterly alone. That moment was when she thought she'd made the wrong choice.

What was the point of fighting this? She'd been abandoned by her husband, her child rendered motherless despite her best intentions. She was going to die anyway, except now she would be alone. Rather than mourned, everyone would just nod, satisfied. Justice served.

The flame of her life dimmed. Flickered.

When her breaths kept coming, her body, weary though it was, clung to consciousness, she got pissed.

That was when she decided, fuck Liam. He was hell bent on proving her life wasn't worth a damn. But she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of dying alone, unwanted. She was going to survive and thrive. Her life, the life she'd fought for, was going to be beautiful.

For a few more minutes, Bella just breathed. When she was calmer, she laughed wryly to herself.

Her life was going to be beautiful. Sure.

She thought of the pitiful amount she had stored away in her savings account—the tiny scraps of cash she'd been able to save with the hope of bringing McKenna to her. She needed enough to fly to Texas round trip twice herself and once for McKenna. She wasn't even close.

Did she have enough for one court date, though? Maybe her money would be better spent having a judge reprimand Liam. He couldn't keep yanking away these half hour phone calls at his own whim.

Bella sighed, knowing how futile this battle was. She pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes against a pounding headache. What she needed was to stop thinking about it for a little while. She'd had almost nothing to do for a week while she recovered except to try to find another option. She'd do anything to get to her baby. Anything.

But, as it had gone the last two years, no solution had presented itself. She could only drive herself headlong into roadblocks so many times without getting brain damage.

It was days like this that Bella really missed her Arizona friends. She needed someone to take her out on the town—maybe get a little drunk with her. It had been so long since she'd done anything to let off steam.

Her head snapped up when she remembered she did have a friend here. Edward had gone back to work a couple of days ago, but he still texted frequently throughout the day. He'd brought her more groceries yesterday even though she'd regained most of her strength and could have gone herself.

He was a good man, a beautiful man both inside and out. Bella still wasn't sure what to make of him, with his sad eyes. He had secrets that hinted of a quiet darkness, but, somehow, she didn't feel like it was a dangerous one. As distracted as she was by her own problems, she had enough room in her head to be curious about him.

Regardless, friendship was like any relationship. It needed tending; it needed both give and take. She'd done nothing but take since they met. The least she could do was treat him to a meal, maybe a few drinks.

~0~

Toward the end of their meal, Bella had to laugh.

"I'm sorry," she said, breaking the semi-awkward silence—one of many that evening—that had fallen over them. "I think I forgot how to have a friendly conversation."

She'd been trying to figure out what was happening. This last week and few days she'd enjoyed Edward's company a lot. She was beginning to realize, though, that their relationship had been marked with quiet companionship. They sat on the couch, making the occasional observation about whatever they were watching. She'd invited him over to help her eat some of the meals he'd prepared for her, knowing that he worried even though he was obviously trying to give her some space.

It was strange in a way—how comfortable she was being silent with him. She felt close to him in a lot of ways, like they were more than mere acquaintances. They were true friends, comfortable enough with each other to touch without awkwardness. "We never did the chit-chat thing, did we?" she asked.

He chuckled and ducked his head. "It's my fault."

Bella started to protest, but he shook his head as he looked up at her. "No. It really is. I've been nervous all night."

"What do you have to be nervous about?" she asked, brows furrowed.

He laughed again, running a hand over his face. "It's not chit-chat," he warned. Then, he sighed. "Honestly, I've been trying to figure out how to say this without scaring you and without you thinking I'm a lunatic. It makes a lot of sense in my own head, but that's not saying much."

"Well, if you're trying not to make me nervous, you're not doing a good job of it," Bella said, curious and more than a little anxious now. "What's going on?"

"Nothing yet." Another sigh and he leaned across the table, his look earnest. "I told you my brother was a lawyer. Well, I hope I'm not crossing a line here, but I asked him if he knew any good family attorneys."

Bella sucked in a sharp breath. Her hackles rose a fraction, but she couldn't find any logic behind her sudden defensiveness; he hadn't said really anything yet. He was watching for her reaction. "What did you need a family attorney for?" she asked, voice tight.

"I don't." His eyes searched hers. "Really, I was just asking general questions, trying to understand the legality of your situation with your daughter."

"You mean you think I'm not doing enough." She was struggling not to glower.

It must not have worked because he straightened up, his palms up and out and in a placating gesture. "Of course not." Tentatively, he reached out, touching her hand with the tips of his fingers. "Bella, someone would have to be blind not to see how much you love your daughter. You don't have to tell me you've tried to move mountains to get to her. That's why I can't accept it. It's too much injustice."

Bella scoffed, but her shoulders relaxed a fraction. "Yeah."

"It was just a conversation. I knew custody law was arbitrary. I believed you when you told me that. I guess I just had to know how arbitrary. Emmett's friend explained it to me—that when a couple can't work something out between themselves, it's left to the judge's discretion what's best based on any number of factors."

Bella nodded. "Like the fact I didn't immediately file an injunction to get Liam to bring McKenna back here, in my case. There's no way a Texas judge would have awarded me any kind of custody. McKenna was safe and settled in Texas. I was dealing with being sick, having to find a new apartment because I couldn't afford rent." She waved a hand. "And on and on."

"That was then."

"Not much has changed," Bella said with a humorless huff.

Edward grimaced. He looked down at his hands.

"You're nervous again," Bella said, confused.

"Yeah." He took a steadying breath, looking off to the side. "I've been thinking a lot about...factors. If there was a chance you could get a Texas judge to send McKenna back to you."

All the breath left her in a gust. "Edward," she said, the word barely a whisper. She cleared her throat, pushing past the terrible squeeze of her heart. "I'm fighting to make him give me my half hour on the phone every day. That would be a win. I haven't seen her in two years because even flying to her is a pipe dream for me right now."

"That's what I'm saying." He reached again, this time covering her hands with his. "It all has to do with factors. How many you have versus how many he has. If you can present a better life for your child, a judge, even a Texas judge, may agree it's in McKenna's best interest to be with you."

Bella pulled her hands out from under his, wrapping her arms around herself. Her heart was beating fast and tears stung her eyes. "Edward, I know you're trying to help, but whatever this quack told you—"

"She didn't tell me anything specific," he said gently. "She gave me a background. The plan is mine. And I know I can't make any promises. All I'm saying is that I can give you a fighting chance."

Bella flinched at his choice of words.

"Just listen to me," Edward said quickly before she could speak. "Listen to the whole plan. I know I'm probably going to freak you out, but listen before you decide."

She stared at him but gave the tiniest of nods that he could continue.

He seemed to steel himself. "I think we should get married."

A chill went down her spine and she sat up ramrod straight. "What?"

"Hear me out," he reminded her. "A marriage of convenience. Just long enough to paint a picture. First, look at the factors he has. Apparently, he's been unemployed for two years, living off his parents, right? The major thing he has going for him is simply that McKenna is there.

"If you married me, this is what your picture would look like. You've been employed. You obtained employment even while fighting a deadly illness. The lawyer told me it goes a long way with most custody judges when one party is married—settled down. Sounds old fashioned, but she says it matters. I have a good job, Bella. I own my own contracting firm. It's steady work, and enough to support a family even if you weren't working, which you are. You'd also be gaining a support system in my family." His lip twitched. "They're good at that—being supportive."

"Jesus," Bella said, her head spinning, She put her fingers to her temples. "You want me to marry you." She repeated the words because she didn't quite believe them, shivering with the chills that had come over her. She wanted to scream he was insane. She wanted to run away.

Part of her wanted to only listen to what she wanted to hear—that there was hope. Hope was so dangerous.

"I'm not suggesting a traditional marriage. Bella, I don't want or expect anything from you, so please don't worry about that. It's a means to an end, that's all."

She raised her head, finally looking at him. "It's marriage."

He didn't answer right away, taking a few beats to sip his drink before he spoke again. "I don't want you to think the act of marriage is meaningless to me." He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "I loved my wife, and I took my vow of commitment to her very seriously.

"But, I also think that marriage means different things. There's marriage of the heart. I don't believe a couple changes just because they go through a ceremony. I was as committed to my wife the day before we were married as the day after. That's the important one. There's marriage in the church—all that state of holy matrimony. Whatever marriage means according to your own religion, and then there's what we're talking about. The business of marriage."

He leaned across the table again, his hands out but not trying to touch her. "Bella, this system isn't always fair. I believe in things being fair. And when it comes down to it, I believe sometimes playing the system is the right thing to do. I know what I'm asking. I'm not doing anything with my marital status right now. I have no plans to change that in the near future. If I can give you enough pieces that you have a snowball's chance in hell to get your daughter back, I want to do it."

For a full minute, Bella gaped at him. Hope was getting louder in her head.

She muzzled it, pressing her fingertips into her skull. "You don't know me," she muttered under her breath.

"I think—"

"No." She stared him down. "You don't know me. You need to listen to me now."

He was trying to be nice; she knew that. As thrown as she was, she still didn't think this man was a danger to her. She believed what he was saying—that he wanted to do this for her, and it was sweet. So sweet it made her heart ache.

"I'm going to tell you a story, and you're going to tell me if you really want to do this for me." She clenched and unclenched her jaw. "You're going to tell me if you even want to know me or if you want to go track down Liam because you're on his side."

"That's not going to happen," Edward said.

"Yeah, well. My husband was also serious when he vowed to love and honor me. We all know how that went."

She closed her eyes. "Three and a half years ago, I went to the doctor and he told me two things. The first was that I had cancer. An aggressive cancer that they needed to treat with equal aggression." She stopped, reliving that terrible moment. She thought for one horrible second she was going to throw up. "The second was that I was pregnant."

Edward sucked in a breath, and Bella continued before he could speak. "The doctor said there were treatments I could start while pregnant, but if I wanted a fighting chance"—the words came out with a bitter twist—"he recommended terminating the pregnancy.

"So, my husband and I went home. He told me we were going to fight, but he also told me not to worry. He would take care of our kids. He would tell them every day how they had a brave mother. He would make sure that they always knew I made the ultimate sacrifice—that I'd traded my life for my baby's."

She opened her eyes. Edward was watching her, his pallor as sickly as she felt. I pressed on. "I chose my life."

His features twisted, and Bella's heart sank. It was happening all over again. "I already had a baby. I did it for her. So she wouldn't…"

And then, she was done. She was just done. She reached for her purse. "No. You know what? I'm sick of having to justify my choice, as if my life isn't valuable enough. I wanted to live. Yes, I wanted to live for McKenna. She needed a mother. She needed me. But I also had things to do. I wasn't done."

She threw a wad of bills down on the table and stood up. "If you can't deal with that, then fuck you too."

With that, she turned and rushed from the restaurant.

A/N: How you doing out there, sunshines?