Author's note: Please leave reviews! I had none in my last update so I'm wondering whether it's still worth uploading updates? I don't expect this story to be many more chapters. I intended this to be a short story. I have a nod to another of my short stories in this chapter so I hope my followers notice it!

Chapter 9

Emmett stood with his arms folded across his broad chest, the muscles of his arms even more prominent and intimidating, if that were possible. He heard every strain and effort thrown into the punching bag hanging from the sturdiest tree he could find in the forest. He frowned at the ever-increasing rate of blood rushing through her heart. He stepped forward.

"Bella, you should take it easy," he warned, resting his hands either side of the bag as she swung her leg up to kick it hard. "Fairly certain we've reached a knock out."

His voice held the same teasing tone it always did but underneath it all, it came from a place of concern. It had been a week since Bella was released from hospital and she'd remained at the Cullen's ever since, with Charlie making frequent visits. With Carlisle's encouragement, Bella started an exercise regime to build up her strength and none were more surprised than Emmett when she'd come to him for help.

Bella wiped the sweat from her brow with her wristband, stretching out a kink in her neck. "I'm fine," she insisted. "Come on, help me."

"Let's take a break first," Emmett suggested, throwing a bottle of water her way which she inevitably dropped. Emmett snorted. "Nice to see your coordination has improved."

"Ha ha," she replied flatly, taking a long swig of water. "The student is only as good as her teacher."

Emmett raised his eyebrows at her. "Well, the student still has a way to go." He nudged her shoulder teasingly, causing her to roll her eyes. "I'm surprised you wanted to take up kickboxing. I was sceptical when you suggested it. It's not exactly…" he raised his hands to make little air quotations, "Bella friendly."

"It's cardio," she replied. "It felt as good as any to get stronger. Why do you think I asked you?"

"Fair enough," he shrugged his big shoulders, smirking. Silence passed between them for a few minutes as Bella took more gulps of water and cooled down. Emmett's keen ears picked up the thumping of her heart and the gasps of her breath as she rested next to him. "In all seriousness, are you alright?" he asked, looking down at her.

Bella raised her eyebrows. "You, serious?"

"Alright," he protested, giving her a gentle shove with his elbow. "Go on, tell me."

"Of course," she answered, the slightest frown unmissable to Emmett's eyes. "I'm happy to be out of the hospital."

"And what about Edward?"

Bella tensed. "He's…" she sighed, "you know, Edward."

"Yeah," Emmett said slowly. "How's the stress on the heart?"

Bella got up. "Feeling like it needs another round." Emmett watched as she strode back up to the punch bag with purpose and started to release some more of the stress that had a hold on her.

Carlisle got out of his car, briefcase in hand and strode over the gravel and through the front door of the Cullen home. The smell of cooking invaded his senses and he smiled at the unmistakable scent of freesias, honey and summer mixed into the aroma circulating his house. He followed it through his open plan downstairs into the kitchen where he found Esme following a recipe on some cooking show on the TV. She looked up as he walked through, and a smile spread across her beautiful face.

"You're back," she welcomed, smiling against his lips that met hers in greeting.

"I never left," he murmured in her ear, his right hand in her left, his finger running over the eternity ring that sat above her wedding ring. Those three words never failed to take Esme back to the day he gave her that ring. He looked over her shoulder and chuckled. "Italiano?" he teased, reminding her of the first day she'd met Bella.

"I've perfected it now!" Esme defended her choice of meal for Bella. "My cooking has improved since the first time we cooked for her."

"Darling, your cooking has always been beautiful," he reassured her. "Bella wouldn't have you think otherwise." He paused. "Speaking of which…"

"She's fine," Esme cut him off. She raised an eyebrow at the expression on his face. "You ask every time you come in. She's mending." She shook her saucepan to move the ingredients about and continued. "Emmett's upstairs actually just getting changed. They've been training together again."

"Where's Edward?"

"He's hunting with Jasper," she replied, adding a sliver of oil around the pan.

From above them, they heard the water flow in the shower. At that moment, Emmett appeared with fresh clothes on. He threw himself onto a stool at the island where Esme was preparing Bella's food. It wasn't the first time Esme thought to herself that he was like a bull in a China shop.

"Speaking of Edward," Emmett said casually, as if he'd been a part of their conversation all along, "did he ever tell Bella what happened in the hospital?"

Carlisle and Esme glanced at each other and back to Emmett. Then the penny dropped when he shook his head in exasperation when they appeared to play dumb. He meant when Edward was shocked to find that he was able to read her mind when she was unconscious in hospital.

"I don't think he ever brought it up," Carlisle answered. "Why?"

"Bella closed right up when I asked how she was now that she's back home and I mentioned Edward," he replied. He stood up, glaring at the stool that was neither use or ornament to him. "Also, you should probably talk to her about taking it easy."

"Thanks, Emmett," Carlisle acknowledged, patting him on the shoulder on his way out to move his usual things to his office.

Emmett peered into Esme's frying pan full of various ingredients and he bit down on his lip. "No garlic this time?"

Esme narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't you dare come near this dish or I'll kick you out," she warned.

"Oh, come on, Esme," he laughed. "You can't still be upset about that?"

"It took Bella two weeks to come back to visit us after that prank!" she retorted.

"Well, turns out we were wrong, and the myth is true," he reasoned. "Garlic does repel vampires."

"I think you have that backwards," she countered. "Garlic breath horrified Bella from coming anywhere near us. I'm afraid some of us have a better poker face than others."

"Rose didn't mean to give it away," Emmett laughed. "In her defence, the garlic was impressively overpowering. I'm surprised you didn't notice."

Carlisle pulled a fresh jumper over his head and proceeded to empty his briefcase of things he didn't need for his following shift at the hospital. His head shot up in shock and he shot to the window, looking down to see Esme dragging Emmett by his ear and shoving him outside. He chuckled to himself. Emmett never learned.

Bella squeezed her hair out and rubbed a towel over it to get rid of the excess water. She dragged a brush through the long locks that fell to her waist and changed into a loose shirt and pair of leggings. She cringed thinking of what Alice would say of her outfit of choice. She walked down the corridor and into Edward's room, which had become hers as Edward volunteered it as her place of recovery. She threw her towel into the hamper and walked over to the window seat which afforded her the view of the forest behind the house. She knew Alice had played a part in the decoration that went into the room when she started living and sleeping in it. The cushions that lined the bench that was fixed below the window were all perfectly matched to the four-poster bed with the golden bed spread. The cushions were both beautiful and sturdy. She found very quickly that this was her favourite place to sit in the house.

She let her mind wander as she gazed out of the window. Her hand sat in the crook of her neck, her fingers resting at the top of her shoulder, her bent elbow sat on the top of one of the sturdy pillows. This is how Carlisle found her when he walked in.

He picked up her left hand which rested in her lap and placed a penny in it. When she saw what it was, she smiled in amusement. "Penny for your thoughts?" he asked, a smile at the corners of his mouth.

"It's nothing, really," she tried to reassure him. "Emmett's a hard coach."

"I heard that you're a hard student," Carlisle replied, taking a seat next to her. "I'm glad that you took me seriously and you're working on building up your strength but remember to take it easy."

Bella frowned, narrowing her eyes at him. "Why? Does Emmett think I'm doing too much?"

"We don't want you to overdo it," Carlisle reminded her. He paused, considering her a moment. "What's going on?"

She peered at him and realised that she had no choice but to give him some sort of explanation.

"It's Edward," she sighed. She was unsurprised to see understanding in Carlisle's golden eyes. "He's been… different."

"How so?"

"Since I started recovering and I was feeling stronger, he seems distant," she explained. "Hesitant." She looked down at her lap. "He's keeping something from me."

Carlisle sat back with a sigh. "Oh, Bella," he said. "Have you voiced your concerns? I've told you that holding on to stress will hinder your recovery. This includes emotional stress." He looked at her pointedly when she looked up at him.

"How can I ask him?" she wondered. "When he sets his mind on keeping things from me, he will."

"Stubborn," Carlisle agreed. "But so are you."

"It's not enough, Carlisle," she voiced her fear.

"You're afraid to ask," he deduced.

"It's not that," she shook her head. "How can I ask when I don't have the words?"

"One moment," Carlisle said, holding up a finger. Before she could react, he had disappeared from his seat at her side and returned in the next second with one hand occupied. She frowned, looking at what he had brought back with him. "Write it down," he suggested, offering her a journal. "You wouldn't believe the things that are in this house."

She took it from him and upon closer inspection saw that it was a green leather-bound journal which she felt suited her. She smiled, thanking him. He handed her an elaborate pen and reminded her to take her meds on his way out. She remained in the window staring at the blank pages in front of her. She'd never done this before. She often wondered why people journaled, writing down their inner most thoughts, their inner secrets in physical form for anyone to find. She took a deep breath and just wrote what came naturally. She reasoned that she could always burn the pages.

Dear diary, she wrote, I couldn't have been more wrong. I thought that I could smile and nod my way through it. Pretend that it would all be okay. I had a plan. I wanted to change who I was. Create a life as someone new, someone without the past, without the pain, someone alive. All you can do is be ready for the good, so that when it comes you invite it in because you need it. I need it.

Her pen hovered over the pages as she read back the words to herself. She barely noticed when the words flowed again.

You know that feeling inside, like a balloon, constantly filling up, always on the verge of popping? Well, maybe, just maybe, I do. A friend would tell me to let it pop. But I alienated so many of them that there's just me. There's only so much a balloon can take before it pops.