Smmiskimen and MaggieMay14 beta this mess. Risbee and Acinad816 pre-read and I adore them like I adore making fun of people. I'm mean, let's face it.

If you live in the Greater Toronto Area or are coming to the area in early December, a bunch of us in the fandom are getting together to watch Breaking Dawn and have some fun. If you wanna come along, find me over on Facebook as coldplaywhore fanfiction and I'll add you to our little group.

I don't own Twilight; I am prepping to teach my co-workers about Twitter. You can follow me as coldplaywhore if you don't already. I'm not much fun though.


"Great art is the outward expression of an inner life in the artist, and this inner life will result in his personal vision of the world."- Edward Hopper


EPOV

October 2011

The next few days went by slowly as I tried to deal with the aftermath of my conversation with Bella and the rest of my pathetic little life. Okay, so to some people it wasn't pathetic, but I couldn't help but feel like I wasn't moving forward. My life was at a complete standstill.

My mother invited me to lunch with her the day after I met with Bella at the park and I promptly declined, knowing full well that most of our lunch would revolve around my disappearance from the dinner from hell the weekend before. Either that or she would talk about Peter like he hung the moon. That was usually what happened where he was concerned, no matter whose company I was in. Unless it was Emmett; he loathed Peter almost as much as I did.

Peter's mother, Claire, is the big sister to my mother, Esme. They were always close growing up, married within a year of each other and were pregnant at the same time with Peter and Emmett, though Peter was born first. He never lets us forget that little fact either; that he was the oldest of all the kids born in the family. My Aunt Claire was the sweetest woman I had ever met, which could only mean that Peter got his shitty attitude and god complex from my Uncle Randall, who wasn't exactly around a lot while we were growing up.

Emmett and I were both too little to remember when Uncle Randall moved their family to Chicago, but I could only imagine how horrible life would have been if we had to endure Peter on a regular basis. The major holidays and sporadic vacations were bad enough, but being forced to spend time with Peter on a weekly or even monthly basis would have been unbearable.

I could appreciate how close my mother and her sister were, I had practically the same relationship with Emmett, but I didn't need to hear about how wonderful and successful Peter had become every time I got together with my mother. I sold my first major painting at fifteen for over $20,000, while Peter was in his first year of college, but you never hear anyone gush about that, simply because no one ever discussed my art anymore for fear of pissing me off. It was an unmentionable topic, and to have to face it head on with Bella the other day just put me in a shitty mood.

"Okay, so the Clearwater's approved the design today. Those little changes we made seem to have made all the difference," Emmett said as he stuck his head into my office, a huge grin plastered across his face. "We're all gonna go to dinner at the Waterfront Seafood Grill tonight to celebrate, so put on your happy face."

"Yeah, I'll be there," I replied with a sigh, as I began wondering who the hell picked the restaurant that was just two blocks from Olympic Sculpture Park. Either someone was psychic or fate just hated me.

"Come on…where's your excitement over this? We're almost done this project. I've already got them hooked up with a contractor and we're working on the permits so we can get the building underway as soon as possible," Emmett explained hurriedly as he sat down in the chair across from my desk and proceeded to get comfortable. "Think positive, Suzanne will stop trying to hook you up with her daughter any time now."

"Somehow I doubt she'll give up." I had been so wrapped up in my own world that I hadn't had the time to tell Emmett about the three emails and two voicemails Suzanne had left me all under the guise of additional suggestions for the house, which she then decided against before she dropped hints about her daughter and left her number. Of course there was no way I was going to do anything about it, my life was romantically fucked up enough as it was.

"She and Harry have already given us two referrals for friends of theirs looking for architects. How awesome is that?"

"That's really great news, Em," I replied somberly as Emmett smacked his hand against my desk, pulling me from my thoughts. "Okay, you've been out of it for days. Are you going to tell me what happened when you met up with Bella?"

"Nothing happened."

"I call bullshit."

"We met and she didn't bring me coffee though she said she would in her text."

"Oh, so you showed up, she didn't bring coffee and you were pissed off at the lack of caffeine, so you left?"

"No, it didn't quite go down like that," I sighed, exasperated. I couldn't figure out why I wasn't telling Emmett everything that happened between us, especially since he had been my only source of support after she disappeared all those years ago. He looked at me with a hint of impatience and a whole lot of curiosity, so I just let it fly, telling him everything that had happened between us at the park. "Then, as I'm getting ready to leave, she blurts out that she wants to leave Peter."

"Fucking right," Emmett added with a little too much exuberance. "I don't like the girl, which is solely because she broke your heart, but I don't think anyone deserves the torture of being subjected to Peter. He's toxic."

"It doesn't make a difference to me if she stays with him or leaves him, Emmett. We never really got into an in depth discussion about our past. Without any sort of justification about what went down between us, I'm not sure her leaving Peter makes a difference. Hell, she might not even leave him. I mean, what reason would she have for leaving him?"

"He's a complete and utter douche who treats her like a possession rather than a person. I mean, I treat my iPhone better than he treated her at dinner the other night." I nodded my head in agreement as Emmett continued ranting on. "When I told Rosalie what he said about her not knowing her place or whatever it was he said, she flew off the handle. I seriously think the next time she sees him, he's gonna get bitch slapped, which I have to admit, would be awesome."

"Yeah, I guess," I answered sullenly as Emmett groaned at me.

"Please don't turn back into the emo, depressing and self-destructive bastard that you were when she left the first time," Emmett growled as I glared at him, trying to show some control, but having none.

"This isn't like the last time."

"Do I need to remind you about Irina?"

"No, you don't need to remind me. I had a lovely reminder of her the other day." Emmett's eyes grew wide and I could tell he was worried. "I went into a gallery before meeting Bella and they had a piece done by Irina there. I thought I recognized it, and the woman who worked there, Leah, confirmed it for me."

"I hope it was just a reminder of her."

"Emmett, Irina was a very brief part of my past..."

"It doesn't matter how short you knew her, as far as I am concerned, I hope you never see her again; she was a crazy Russian bi..." My phone started buzzing on my desk, signaling that I had a new text, but I ignored it, which intrigued Emmett so he unceremoniously grabbed my phone and read the text aloud. "Can I take you to dinner? We need to clear the air between us."

"Seriously, Bella wants to take you to dinner, now? Are you going to go?"

"Probably not."

"Why not? If you ignore her, you'll never get the answers you want." Emmett grinned at me and started typing a reply to her as I reached across my desk to try and take my phone back. Sure enough, Emmett dashed out of the chair and ran like a raving lunatic down the hallway, mumbling something incoherently as he went.

When I finally caught up with him, after having to endure the stares of our co-workers along the way to his office, he was holding up my phone in victory.

"You are meeting her on Saturday night at Vintage."

"Fuck, come on...really?" I groaned as I snatched my phone back and looked at it, confirming that I did in fact have plans with Bella at seven o'clock that night. I wondered if Peter was still out of town and if so, why he was taking so bloody long back in Chicago? If I was engaged to Bella, or anyone for that matter, I would have a rough time being away from them for a day and Peter had almost been gone a week.

That works. Peter is due back in the city Sunday afternoon –Bella

Well, I guess that answered my question, I thought as I rolled my eyes and Emmett looked at me with curiosity. "I'm gonna go because you are basically forcing me too, but let me just say, I don't like it."

"You don't have to like it; you do need to get closure, though. Sit down, order a beer and ask her what the fuck could have caused her to walk out on you five years ago. That's it...just find out."

Dinner at the Waterfront Grill that night was fine, nothing too exciting, and I found myself eager to go home not long after we had arrived. I sipped on two drinks, Emmett watching my every move like a hawk, which only made me feel more self conscious. We celebrated our success on the Clearwater project and thanked our staff for their continued hard work. Thanks to the economy, it was rare that we got such a lucrative contract as the Clearwater's, but it was only made better by the referrals they had been giving us. The firm was looking good going into the next year, and I could sense the excitement radiating off of Emmett.

The Clearwater's unexpectedly joined us just after drinks, and thanked our entire staff for their assistance in making their dreams come true. I thought it was a bit much, if you asked me, but what surprised me even more was when the saleswoman from the gallery joined them and looked at me oddly.

"Edward, right?"

"Yeah...Leah?"

"I'm surprised you remembered," she remarked with a genuine smile as my eyes darted between her and Suzanne, and I immediately made the connection. "I see you already know my parents."

"As you can now tell, the firm I work for did the re-design on their Bainbridge Island home," I admitted, a little embarrassingly as Suzanne stood beside her daughter grinning wildly.

"This is the man I was telling you about, Leah. I'm glad to see he finally took my suggestion and called you. When did you guys get together?"

Well now, this was fucking awkward wasn't it? Mrs. Clearwater had been all over me for almost a month to hook up with her daughter, and sure enough, I had already met her. There was no way I could lie to this woman, because Leah would know immediately, so I steeled my nerves and gave a small smile.

"Actually, I hadn't yet had a chance to call her, but thanks to an odd coincidence, Leah and I met the other day at her gallery."

"Oh well isn't that interesting. I've been trying to meddle and fate has been pulling you two together regardless," Suzanne exclaimed happily as I watched Leah roll her eyes. I knew Suzanne believed in all that astrology crap, but from the look on Leah's face, it seemed that it was one thing she and her mother didn't agree on. This just made it all the more interesting to have dinner with the Clearwater, who we also learned had a son named Seth who was currently in the Air Force, stationed out of Hawaii.

Halfway through dinner, Emmett looked at me from a few seats down and winked knowingly, which caught me off guard.

"So, like I was saying, do you ever go and watch the films down at SAM?" asked Leah casually.

"I used to," I admitted, my voice filled with a bit of regret. Bella and I use to go to SAM and watch movies whenever we got the chance, but of course I wasn't going to sit there and rehash that with Leah, a woman a barely knew. "I haven't actually been back to the museum in a while. Hell, just going to the park the other day was a big feat for me. I haven't really done much art in a long while."

"Well, that's a shame," Leah said casually.

"It is a shame. Edward used to be a great artist. In fact, I'm sure he still is. He just needs to apply himself," Emmett chimed in as I turned to him quickly and sliced my hand through the air, attempting to silence him. Leah and Suzanne both looked at me in surprise, but I simply shrugged my shoulders and tried to blow the situation off.

"It was nothing, really."

"I'm sure you were a wonderful painter," Leah whispered sincerely as her hand gripped my arm and I recoiled, resting my hand back in my lap instead of on the table. Emmett noticed immediately and his eyes looked concerned, but I simply changed the topic.

"What was it you were saying about the films at SAM? Did you see something good recently?"

"Um…no." Leah hesitated, the words seemingly on the tip of her tongue but unable to come forth. Finally, she opened her mouth and paused briefly before she spoke. "Actually, no…I was going to see if you wanted to go watch A Place in the Sun with me next week. It's playing as part of their Film Noir series. I just thought maybe you would like it."

I looked beside her and breathed a sigh of relief that her mother wasn't paying attention; otherwise Suzanne would be beaming from ear to ear and picking out china patterns or some shit. "What night is it playing on?" I asked, feeling like shit for giving Leah hope when I knew deep down inside that I would cancel on her at the last moment and never see her again. That was the way I worked. I was sure that Leah was a great woman and she was definitely pretty and artistically inclined, but I wasn't ready for a date.

With her or anyone, if I was being brutally honest.

"It's next Wednesday night."

"Can I let you know? I'm not sure of my schedule right now," I lied, knowing that my schedule was free and clear, like it was most nights, unless you counted Saturday night at seven, when I was set to meet Bella.

"Oh yeah…sure. Do you still have my card?" I thought for a moment and then nodded my head, remembering the small card sitting on top of my dresser. "How about I put it in your phone right now, so you don't forget?"

Continuing with my streak of bad luck, as Leah reached for my phone perched on the table, it buzzed with yet another text message. She had already been looking at phone, so I wasn't surprised to see her face fall slightly as she handed it to me.

Can I call you tonight? – Bella

Shit.

"What's your number?" I asked Leah, ignoring Bella's text completely and trying to focus on the woman in front of me, though Bella remained in my mind.

I listened as Leah spouted off her number, while I entered it into my phone and wondered why the fuck Bella wanted to call me. I shook my head, realizing that I shouldn't care and I was simply tormenting myself further by thinking about her. So, I stopped. "Let me look at my schedule tomorrow and I'll let you know, alright?"

Leah tensed as she looked at me and gave me a small smile. "Listen, if you are seeing someone…"

"I'm not."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah…she's my cousin's fiancée," I admitted with a hint of frustration, and I could tell from the look on Leah's face that she didn't believe me.

"We're only friends, but I liked you and thought we had a good time tonight and at the gallery. That being said, I refuse to get in the middle of anything, especially if you are unsure of…whatever."

At this point, dinner was winding down and the conversations had become less animated between everyone at the table. I could see Emmett on the phone, most likely with Rosalie, and I glanced once more at Leah and let out a small sigh.

"Listen," I whispered, not wanting to draw too much attention to us. "I have a past with her, but she's going to marry my cousin. If you want to be my friend, yeah…we can try. It's not like I have many friends to begin with."

"Friends," Leah said without remorse as she offered me her hand and I shook it tentatively. "Check your schedule and let me know. I'd hate to go watch Montgomery Clift by myself."

I didn't answer Bella's text that night, or the next for that matter. When I left the restaurant, I went straight home and climbed into bed, my head aching and unwilling to shut off. It didn't help that when I woke up the next morning, I stumbled into my kitchen to find my mother standing there sorting through my stack of unopened mail and brewing a cup of coffee.

"Don't you ever open your mail, Edward? There is stuff in here postmarked from a month ago."

"Yeah and if you look at the return address, you will see its junk mail."

"It's from Kensington Gallery in San Francisco. They still contact you?" she asked as she reached for two mugs from the cabinet and filled them both up. This was truly the last thing I wanted to deal with on this particular morning. Hell, even Bella standing in my kitchen would have been a better option than my mother.

"Only because my mother gave them my forwarding address," I replied coldly.

"I see wasted potential in you Edward. You could have done so much more with your life."

"I live the same life as Emmett, mother. Why don't you want him to change his life?" I asked rudely as I stormed past her and into the living room, throwing myself on the couch. "I get that you are disappointed in me and the direction I've taken my life in, but do you really have to come here and berate me about it."

"First of all, Emmett is living the life he was supposed to, Edward. He's married, expecting a child and successful in his career. He doesn't feel unsatisfied and he's definitely not lonely. You, on the other hand, gave up and you haven't even made an attempt to reach your full potential."

"Thanks for the lecture, I'd like my key back now," I exclaimed frustrated as she simply rolled her eyes and sat down on the couch beside me with her coffee clutched in her hand.

"Edward, I just want the best for you. I don't want you to settle." I groaned in aggravation, as she started again with the usual diatribe I was used to; however she had a new spin to it now. "Don't you want to be happy like Emmett and Rosalie or Peter and Bella?" I choked on my coffee as my mother looked at me with concern in her eyes. I knew she had the best of intentions when it came to meddling in my life, but I was tired of the same old song and dance she would give me. "They are moving forward with their lives, while you sit stagnant and unmoving."

"I have a date," I blurted out, as my mind went wild, immediately wishing I had kept my mouth shut.

"With who?"

"The daughter of a client."

"Oh Edward, what have I told you about mixing business with pleasure?"

"Do it as often as possible?" I joked sarcastically as my mother took a sip of her coffee and continued to stare me down.

"I just want you happy. If you think this girl can do that for you, then I'll support you," she replied stoically as I watched her eyes dart back to my mail pile and I knew she was wondering about the letter from the Kensington Gallery. "Why do they write to you?"

"The usual; they want more work. In the last letter I actually opened, they explained that they still had one piece of mine from what I sold them back in 2004. They have interested buyers, but they don't want to part with it unless they can get an agreement from me for more work because they think the sale, which they expect will bring in six figures, will increase interest in my work. Apparently, they just don't get that I'm not painting anymore," I explained as my mother looked at me in surprise.

"Can't you just paint something to appease them? Maybe it will reignite your passion to paint again?"

"It just doesn't work like that. I'm sorry."


Side Note: I posted a little earlier than usual because I found out yesterday that the lovely and talented obsmama recommended this little story over on the lemonade stand, so head on over there tehlemonadestand . blogspot .com and vote. If not for me, then for another awesomely deserving fic like How to Paint a House by Maggie's Gutter. I gave her my vote. I love that story!

Also, don't forget to go check out the entries for the Seasons of Discontent contest, for which yours truly is a judge. I've been making my way through the entries and there are some truly fabulous angstfests going on, so read them. You won't regret it.