I found out a few of you have been pimping me out, and you'll never know how much it means to me. If you are reccing my story, let me know, and I'll read your story and rec it right back if it's as kickass as I assume it will be.

On that note, check out Storm Before The Calm by Sweet Mahogany. Some J/B and E/B right there, so you literally have no reason not to give it a looksee.

Also, MyCrazyTwistedMind, you are a clever girl! Much love to you.

Don't forget, links on my profile of outfits and songs!!

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs – Cheated Hearts

BPOV

I sulked.

I ranted.

I cried.

I forced my housemates to drink with me, to the point where we were now in a dry household, and danced around drunkenly yelling the words to Alanis Morrisette songs while cursing men to the deepest pits of hell.

Gorgeous, charming, alluring, lovely, thoughtful, married men especially.

My conversation with Rosalie Cullen had been anything but interesting, really. Had I not been making out with, and fantasising about rabidly fucking her husband for the last week, nothing about the conversation would have struck me as note-worthy. I had told her that I had Edward's phone, she had told me to contact his PA, Leah. She then told me, somewhat conspiratorially in a light-hearted tone, that Leah could be difficult at times, and so to tell her that Edward's wife had given me the number and instructed me to call.

She dropped the wife-bomb, without even realising it, and the mushroom cloud ascended. I had scribbled down the number she gave me with shaking hands, thanked her in a trembling voice, then dropped the phone to the floor the moment she hung up. Silent, burning hot tears started flowing and didn't cease until the vodka started flowing, courtesy of Liam, whom I adored even more after the ordeal than I had before. He sat beside me, holding my hand and topping up my glass while I cussed out his entire gender, ranting about how they should be made obsolete and were entirely unnecessary to the productivity and general wellbeing of the world's population. I even went so far as to suggest that they should be farmed like animals, used only as sperm donors to sustain a wholly female race.

It was bitter and childish, but I really didn't care. What did trouble me slightly was that I had only known the man a week, and was reacting more violently to this break up than to actual break ups I had endured, which really pissed me off. He was so special, and different, I had sensed it from the moment we meant. As it turned out, he was different because he was a middle-aged sleazebag intent on using me to garner bragging rights with his other douche bag lawyer friends and to feel like a player when his wife wouldn't have sex with him anymore. He was probably crappy in bed, or tiny, or impotent, and wanted young, naive Bella to sleep with because I didn't have enough experience to know just how shitty he was.

The moment those thoughts ran through my mind, I was already contradicting myself internally, because there was no way in the world that Edward Cullen would be anything other than amazing in bed.

Not that I'd ever get to find out now.

What frustrated me most was that despite what he had done, something that in the past I had always seen as being unforgivable, the complete epitome of male douchebaggery, instead of feeling violated and enraged as I should have, I felt sad and alone. I had wanted him so badly, and now, when I should have immediately stopped wanting him, the only thing stopping me from pursuing him anyway was that I knew it was wrong. It wasn't that I didn't want him, it was that I couldn't.

That thought sent a wave of self-loathing over me, because what kind of woman is sad that some asshole fucked over not only her, but his wife? Women were supposed to stick together, chicks before dicks and all that jazz. Sure, I didn't know Rosalie Cullen, and I obviously didn't know what their marriage was like, but the fact remained; he was married.

So why couldn't I let him go?

Frustration overwhelmed me, and despite the alcohol and two joints shared with Lauren to 'help me calm down', my mind was still ticking overtime. What was it about him that made me want to sell out all of my values and long-held beliefs and go for him anyway?

When the package arrived at my house, I already knew who it would be from. It was going to be some thoughtless, expensive gift from the would-be sugar daddy that I wanted nothing to do with. It was a pretty package though, and so despite taking a baseball bat to it as I had originally planned, I slowly pulled apart the packaging. Inside, I found a series of bottles. Liquor bottles.

This gift was turning out to be surprisingly great.

Edward knew that I wasn't 21, and probably assumed that I'd want to drink myself into oblivion so that I wouldn't call his wife back and tell her what I'd been doing with her perfect Edward. He was trying to silence me. What an asshole.

I looked closer at the bottles, then realised that there weren't just bottles. There were two martini glasses, two shot glasses, two peaches, and a bottle of expensive looking vodka, some peach schnapps, some fresh orange juice and cranberry juice. How odd. I looked over the items again, trying to work out, in my still slightly stoned haze exactly what their significance was. There was also a bottle of very familiar-looking tequila and a few cheap beers. I just couldn't figure it out. I saw a note wedged into the contents and hoped fervently that it would aid me in figuring shit out.

Bella,

I know what you're thinking. I'm a total asshole, a creepy 31-year-old guy looking for some young girl to fuck around with while my wife sits at home. As clichéd as it sounds, it's not like that, I promise you. I know you may not believe me, but there is more to my story than you know.

The gifts were intended to show you what I feel like when I'm with you. The liquors make Georgia peaches, the first drink we ever had together, and the tequila and beer as the exact ones we drank at the Laundry House on that second night. With you, it's not about money and fancy drinks and pretension, and you give me a breath of fresh air that I'm not sure I can get by without anymore.

When I'm with you Bella, the mundane life I'd become so accustomed to melts away, and I really don't want to have to lose that. I know I was wrong to hide something like that from you, and I can't expect you to forgive me, but if you were willing, I would love an opportunity to explain myself, if I could.

I don't want to lose you, and even if we can just remain friends, you are someone that I want in my life. If you're open to the idea of talking to me, please meet me at the diner near your house on Sunday morning. We'll get pancakes, because I know you love them, and talk about this.

Yours,

Edward.

I looked over the contents of the box once more, realising that it would have been a lot cleverer for me to have read the letter before rifling through it. It made perfect sense now. Somehow, he had managed to deduce exactly how I was feeling, and his thoughtful gift, the symbolism behind it, and his sweet words made me feel so much less used. Conversely, they made me feel appreciated, wanted, and valued.

He's married.

For some reason, I kept allowing that thought to slip to the back of my mind. Regardless of how lovely and sweet he was being, I had to remember that he had kept something hugely significant from me, and had been intending to cheat on his wife, although he hadn't done it yet. That made me wonder, when he'd rejected me the night before, was it because he wouldn't cheat on his wife?

He had told me that he needed time to tell me something, and that he couldn't sleep with me until I knew because it would ruin things. Had this, his marriage, been what he was referring to? It seemed that he was an adulterer with a heart of gold. He didn't want to deceive me about deceiving his wife. That made me smile selfishly, because he had put our budding relationship above his marriage. I could only assume that their marriage was a weak one if he was with me at all, let alone putting me first.

My mind was rationalising at record speed. I wanted him too badly to turn away, and if I was honest with myself, I would have probably folded regardless of the gift and letter. Really, I hadn't even been properly angry. I had gone straight from feeling sorry to myself to being ready to forgive him. I was weak, but I couldn't help it. The pull to him was simply too strong.

I stood up, walked to my room and pulled out the scrap of paper I had scribbled his number down. Despite deleting it from my phone in my initial melodramatic reaction, I had found myself unable to cut myself off from him completely.

I typed out a text message to him, not hesitating at all before pressing the send button.

E – Hey, do you think we could meet tonight instead? – B

Moments later, I received a response.

B – Of course, name your time and place. – E

I told him that the spot he had picked would be fine, and gave myself two hours to get organised and decent, because there was no way I was going to look bad for this conversation. Ok, so I probably should have left some time before meeting with him, given myself a chance to script some questions, but honestly, I just fucking missed him too much. I wanted this cleared and dealt with, so that I could either walk away or we could move forward. I was desperately hoping for the latter.


Fairly confident I had pulled off a look that said 'oh, I just decided on a whim to meet with you, I was already dressed and looking this fabulous hanging out at home,' I walked the two blocks to the diner, running 10 minutes late deliberately. I saw Edward through the glass, looking absolutely glorious as usual. I don't know he managed to look just as good in a flannel shirt and jeans as he did in a Hugo Boss suit, but he needed a medal or something. Or his parents did.

I entered, and as soon as I came into his line of sight, he stood up. It was obviously an unconscious thing he did that I noticed because I don't think I knew any men who were that gentlemanly. Everything he did made him even more special and appealing and impossible to resist or stay angry at, it was infuriating.

"Hello, Bella, you look gorgeous. I'm so glad you agreed to come and see me," he said, the mere sound of his voice making me less stressed. Looking at him and hearing the compliment almost made me forget that we had a serious issue to deal with before I leapt into his arms and smothered him with kisses. I kept my expression smooth and distant, because I certainly didn't want him knowing how truly weak I was. I simply nodded to him in greeting and took my seat opposite him in the booth he had chosen, which I noted was the same one from the first time we had been here. Before, I may have thought it was a coincidence, but now, knowing more of Edward, it was most likely anything but.

We took our seats and I looked at him expectantly, waiting to see what he was going to say for himself. He sighed and then spoke.

"Alright… so, I was planning on having a whole weekend to plan out some kind of speech, but when you suggested meeting tonight, there was no way I was going to wait two whole fucking days to see you." I had been expecting a sorry, but his honesty disarmed me and I found myself smiling a little despite some serious effort to maintain my disinterested façade. Luckily for me, before he could say anything else adorable and charming, the waitress, who I had never seen before, came over, intent to take our order. She actually licked her lips while she looked at Edward, curling a strand of oily black hair around her finger, the nail of which was chewed to a stub and had a small amount of chipped purple nail polish on. He looked away from her at once, focusing on the menu instead. I couldn't contain my snicker at her slutty behaviour, and despite keeping his eyes firmly on the paper before him, I saw a smirk burst across his face, which only made it harder for me to contain my laughter. She shot me a glare and then walked away, leaving us both chuckling. It felt nice to laugh after 24 hours of stressing and overreacting.

After our laughter subsided, our eyes met over the table.

"Edward," I started, because I knew that if I didn't we would dance around the topic for eternity, "I thought… I thought that we could have had something, and then I found out that you had a wife, from your wife. I just don't know what to do here." He ran his fingers through his hair, and my hand twitched to replace his. I stayed strong though, not belying my weakness, instead knotting my hands together and resting them in my lap.

"I don't know what to tell you, Bella, I know what an asshole I've been about this, but honestly, I'm too selfish to let you go. I met you that first night, and I just couldn't stop myself. It wasn't even that I just wanted to fuck you, I wanted to know you, to be around you. I regret hurting you, more than you know, but I don't regret pursuing you at all.

"I never thought I would be that guy, the one who breaks his marriage vows and goes for someone else. I was raised better than that, I know better than that. But you came barrelling into my life, and it felt like I was being pulled to you, almost as though it was out of my control. I was powerless to stop it, and I didn't want to stop it.

"My life is this hollow shell of obligations and bullshit, but when I'm with you, all of that falls away. I am married to my father's best friend's daughter, she lives upstate in a big house on her own, lunching with her vapid, pastel-wearing friends and fucking our gardener. I didn't even really care before, I just went through the motions of my life blindly. I worked, I socialised when it was required of me, and I did what was expected, turning a blind eye to how meaningless and devoid of any real substance my life was.

"Then I met you. You're amazing, gorgeous, funny, clever, and I feel like you gave me a breath of fresh air in a life that was suffocating me. I know that doesn't justify deceiving you, and I want you to know that I'd never, ever use you for revenge or anything malicious like that, but I want you around too badly to let you walk away from me. I know I've only known you a week, but I feel like… I need you."

I thought over what he said. Coming into this, I truly had no idea how he was going to justify his actions, but his words had made me pity him, which surprised me greatly. Living a life with a woman he didn't love, who was cheating on him, and only existing to satisfy obligations put on him by others, it all sounded so sad. My hand twitched again, wanting to make contact with him, the draw so powerful it almost felt like I was being pushed by some invisible force. I held strong, needing to get everything out in the open.

"I can't believe I'm saying this… but for some reason, I'm… I'm ok with that. It's not the easiest thing in the world to cope with, but I need to know a few things first."

"Sure, ask me anything."

I steeled myself, knowing I may not get the answers I wanted, but needing to ask anyway.

"Have you… cheated on your… on her before?" the sentence was almost impossible to get out, and the wife part was impossible.

"No, absolutely not, I promise you," he replied immediately. That made me feel ever so slightly better.

"Are you still sleeping with her?" he sighed, clearly not wanting to answer the question. I waited for his response, although I already knew it wouldn't be good.

"I slept with her on Monday morning."

Ouch.

I had nothing to say to that.

"I'm sorry Bella, but I had spent the weekend with you, and I was scared, and overwhelmed, and completely unsure as to what had transpired with you. In a moment of weakness, it happened, and I wish it hadn't, but I can't take it back now." I almost laughed at the idea that he was apologising to me for sleeping with his wife. That brought me to my final question, possibly the hardest one.

"Edward, why are you still with her?" He sighed, looked down, and his hands started moving, fidgeting with no real rhyme or reason. He looked so innocent and lost, it made my heart go out to him. I wasn't sure how he had pulled it off, but I was now feeling like he, rather than I, was the victim in this situation. Crafty, gorgeous man.

"I've been thinking about that a lot myself of late. I'm not really sure I can give you a satisfactory answer. My family… they are part of a very tight-knit group, and whether I like it or not, Rose and her family are a part of that clan. If our marriage was to fail, I'm not sure what would happen. I love my family very much, and don't think I could bare to disappoint them like that. I know Rose is cheating on me, although I'm yet to catch her red-handed, but she seems intent on playing the role of perfect couple, and it works for us.

"Honestly, Bella, our marriage has done us a lot of favours over the past four years. In the circles Rose runs in, her marriage, the blending of our families, gives her position of esteem, places her at the top of the food chain, so to speak. Having said that, she isn't the only one who benefits from our façade. The partners at my firm absolutely adore Rose, and think that even though I'm young, my commitment to her shows that I could commit to them. It makes them take me more seriously. I know how callous that sounds, that we would use each other that way, but… it works for us."

I looked down at the table, a little awed by his revelation. In my mind, marriage was associated with a consuming love, something so strong that you felt the need to define yourself by another person, attach yourself to them in every sense, take their name, share their home, merge your life with theirs in its entirety. I simply couldn't fathom the idea that you would remain married to someone because it made people think higher of you. I couldn't stop the next question that bubbled up.

"Did you ever love her?"

"I did." I waited, still looking studiously at the table. He said nothing else. Eventually, I looked at him, and he must have seen the curiosity in my eyes, because he grudgingly continued.

"When I first met Rose, it was easy. We were friends, we used to laugh together, she was laid back and... cool. We'd been brought up the same way, and we understood each other. While we didn't have any real intensity, we were both reaching marrying age, and I believed that she was a woman I could be with in the long run. I just thought she was above the bullshit that we'd been surrounded with all our lives.

"Once we married, things began to change. She was swept into the socialite world, and the girl who used to spend a whole weekend taking apart and putting back together an engine in ripped jeans was gone. In her place was a woman I didn't know. This woman cared only for talking about others, wearing expensive clothes and asserting herself as being above everyone she was around. At first, I thought it was just a phase, but then we grew apart to a point where I didn't even really want to reconcile our differences. She found Emmett, I bought the city apartment, and our lives became what they are now. We go to each others functions, play the roles, but our marriage is entirely hollow.

"I know this sounds like a sob story, some ploy to make you feel sorry for me. I can't really explain it properly, but I'll give it a go. After a life of getting by, of blindly moving through my obligations, I met you, and I felt like I had been electrocuted. Suddenly, I was hyperaware, and happy to be that way. I know how selfish it is, and I would understand if you wanted nothing to do with me, but I had to try. I couldn't let you walk away without knowing I did everything in my power to get you to stay, despite what an asshole I am."

Ok, so now it was my turn.

Actually, no, one last question.

"Is she the reason you wouldn't sleep with me last night?" My ego had to know.

"I just didn't want to do something like that with you until you knew the whole story. You have no fucking idea how hard it was for me to walk out that door, but I couldn't do it to you." I couldn't stop the small smile that escaped at his words.

Ego satisfied.

The skanky waitress returned with food and we both looked down at our meals without touching them. The girl, who I bet had a name like Kimmy or Chastity or Stripperella skulked off, clearly unhappy with the amount of attention she received. He said nothing, clearly awaiting my judgement. I took a few moments to gather my thoughts, to no avail, and so just opened my mouth, hoping the right thing would come out.

"Edward, there is a part of me that wants to slap you across your face and tell you to go back to your wife. But there is a bigger part of me, the selfish part, who wants you too badly to do what I know is probably the right thing to do. In truth, the rest doesn't really matter to me a lot. The one thing I ask is that… well, I know I have no right to ask this…" God I was making such an ass of myself.

"Bella, I'm not sleeping with her anymore. I don't want her, I want you."

The sceptical part of me was horrified that I was buying into this so easily. I just… I wanted him, and apparently, he wanted me too. He wasn't the lecherous sleaze that I had assumed him to be, and I was just so happy that he was the good charactered, charming man I had met in the club a week earlier. The relief that coursed through me overcame any feelings of doubt I had, and when I couldn't stop the smile that crossed my face when he told me that he only wanted me.

"I want you too, Edward."

His returning smile was magnificent.

AN: Poor, naive little Bella.

Just for the record, I know how sloppy I've been with replying to reviews, so now I'll make my pledge. If your review has a question in it, I will respond with an answer. Even though I'm lazy, self-indulgent and a borderline alcoholic at age 19, I will make time to reply to your reviews. Because I love you guys.