Chapter 11 – Because

BPOV

I was alone, exactly as I wanted to be.

And in the pin-drop silence of the room, there was nothing to do but sit and think. It wasn't ideal, especially because I was actively working to suppress memories of the past several hours, but isolation seemed a better option than the possibility of being confronted by Carlisle again.

Of course, I knew what it would mean for him to examine me.

He would know.

He would see and then he would know.

They all would.

But I was desperate – the pain was unbearable and I was so worried something was seriously wrong.

And apparently, I was right.

When he spoke those words… the things that Edward knew now… nothing could ever erase the space that would create between us. How could Edward love me… bear to touch me, or hold me, or ever be with me if he knew what I had become? If he knew what was done to me?

Emotionally and physically I was completely spent. My body was worn, the injuries I was left with were beginning to take their toll and I could feel my energy fading. I was growing weary; the pain was becoming overwhelming.

I was tired.

It wasn't as though this was the first time he'd hurt me.

Things had been bad with Paul before… mostly beatings to take out his rage and threats of serious harm… but never like this. He had gone this far before, but never in this way. It had never been so… painful. I'd never blacked out before.

I'd never almost died as a result.

My mind unconsciously began flickering through memories – and at the forefront of my mind was the memory of choking on my own blood –

But as quickly as it surfaced in my mind, was as quickly as I tried to suppress.

I was physically and emotionally unable to wade through any more of the slowly re-emerging memories.

I was aching all over, and my shame had grown so insurmountable that I was now carefully plotting an escape plan, determined to leave here and run away… or hand myself over to Paul to save those I loved.

It had only been 25 minutes since I'd kicked Carlisle and Edward out and my panic was already consuming me. I could feel my breathing quickening and it was becoming more and more difficult to catch a proper breath.

The feeling of breathlessness was a reminder of his hands wrapped tightly around my neck, cutting off my air supply.

I choked, gasped, coughing, grabbing at my neck as though I was grabbing at his hands. The sensation of being unable to breath was worsening as my head started spinning and the room started to fade.

I was startled by the sound of the door opening - revealing Carlisle and Edward.

Relief washed over me, but the memories persisted.

I felt like I was dying.

His body – on top of mine, crushing me.

His hands, wrapped around my neck as he whispered to me things I would never be able to erase from my mind.

The feeling of his body overtaking mine – the images of Edward that flooded my mind as Paul destroyed the last shred of happiness that existed inside of me.

My shame.

My pain.

The certainty I felt in knowing that he was about to kill me.

The fleeting moments of relief I felt at the thought of dying.

And then the startling reminder of what I would be leaving behind.

I don't want to die…

And then I was pulled, abruptly, from the dark recesses of my mind.

"Bella, it's just me. It's Carlisle and Edward. You're ok. I'm going to remove your hands from your neck and then I'm going to place an oxygen mask over your nose and your mouth to help you breathe, ok?"

I nodded, fighting to remain conscious as Carlisle pulled my own hands from my neck. He placed them gently at my sides and Edward appeared, fitting the mask over my mouth and nose. I inhaled as deeply as I could and the sensation of re-oxygenating my body provided me with near-immediate relief.

I was still hyperventilating but I could sense that I was returning to a place of equilibrium again. I pulled the covers across my shoulders, keeping one hand over the oxygen mask while the other clasped the blanket across my shoulders, holding it in place.

Edward pulled my hand away, replacing mine with his own as he pulled the covers snugly to my body. I didn't have the energy to send him away, and frankly, I didn't want to.

The sensation of almost blacking out was terrifying to me now – it brought me back to the moment with Paul… to the moment where I was sure I was going to die.

I jumped when I felt a warm, wet cloth dabbing at the side of my mouth. I looked up to see Carlisle holding the cloth, and as he pulled it away I noticed a large swatch of blood had stained the pristine cotton white a deep, bright red colour.

I looked at Carlisle, panic rising inside of me again.

"Pulmonary contusion," he said to Edward, who nodded in agreement, his sad eyes resting on me with a deeply troubled look. Carlisle pulled a stethoscope off the table in the corner and draped it around his neck.

"May I listen to your lungs, Bella?"

I looked at him warily. I really didn't want him touching me, not after today, not after everything he'd seen and everything he'd said. But I was worried. I was coughing up blood… again.

"I suspect you have a pulmonary contusion – a very minor one, at that. It would explain why you've been so short of breath. I had attributed that to the trauma your body has undergone, but apparently, I missed something in my examination," he explained "I think you have an injury to your lung that has caused some bleeding. I'll have to listen because it might be small enough that it's not audible without a stethoscope – even with my heightened senses."

I nodded, stiffening slightly, still not understanding what he meant by all of this.

"I'll need to listen to your lungs from your back, Bella. Can you remove the blanket for me?" I immediately grew uneasy,wrestling with the idea of uncovering any more of myself today than I already had. I needed my privacy. I needed to safeguard myself.

"I can listen above your clothes, but the blankets are too thick – they'll obstruct the sound and I'd like to be able to hear as clearly as possible."

I pulled the blanket from around my body, an immediate chill crawling up my spine. Carlisle made quick work of listening and before I could even blink Edward was draping the blanket over my shoulders again.

"Bella, I know it's difficult to recall the events from yesterday – but do you recall spitting up or coughing up blood at any time throughout the…" he paused for a moment, thinking about the words he should use to describe what had happened "the attack?" he finished, looking at me resolutely.

I blanched at the suggestion. We had, up until this point, merely alluded to what had happened. I hadn't shared specific details with them. I hadn't given voice to any of the things Paul had done to me yesterday.

"Yes," I whispered, my eyes focusing on the woven threads of the blanket I was wrapped in so as to avoid Edward and Carlisle's looks of horror.

"Thank you," Carlisle said gently.

"Yes, a pulmonary contusion," Carlisle confirmed, turning to face Edward as he did. "It'll be fine, Bella. We'll monitor you, keep a close eye out and make sure we give you supplementary oxygen periodically. You'll need to refrain from any serious physical activity until it's resolved. Does that make sense?"

I nodded again, unwilling to remove the oxygen mask to answer verbally. I felt as though I was still regaining my breath and I didn't want to do anything to compromise that.

"While I'm here, I'd like to do a quick check of your vitals?" Carlisle reached across the table and pulled a thick yellow file folder from the table, pulling a pen from his sweater pocket at the same time.

"Sure," I said weakly.

"You can lay down if you prefer." I nodded and turned to face Edward, silently asking for his help in reclining my body.

Once I was laying down Carlisle checked my temperature, blood pressure, and heart sounds. He then checked my pupils for reactivity and asked me how my head felt. It felt mostly ok, though it throbbed slightly. He made quick notes in the file and then sat next to me.

"You seem to be stable for now. Your concussion doesn't appear to be too worrisome, though again, I think rest is in order so that your body can recalibrate and begin the healing process."

"You must be hungry, love?" Edward asked glancing toward the door as he did.

I shook my head.

There was no way I could possibly manage to eat anything right now. I was sure anything I ate would come right back up before it even hit my stomach – not to mention the ache in my throat, which would surely be aggravated by eating.

"Bella, your temperature has dropped quite low. You're still within a safe range, but I do know that you're undernourished. You've lost a great deal of weight in a short period of time. It's important that we reintroduce healthy, nutritious foods into your diet… sooner than later."

I paused and stared at him for a moment.

He looked older to me than he had before he'd left… before they'd all left. I knew he didn't age, not physically, anyway. But there was something about him, the usual lightness that he'd had only months ago seemed dampened.

It made my heart ache. I instinctively reached out a hand and rested it against his cheek, smiling a very small smile as I looked into his eyes.

He reached up his hand and covered my own with his, pushing his cheek into my palm.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his eyes locked on my own. I pressed my hand into his cheek a bit harder, as if to silently acknowledge his words and I nodded. Tears were welling in my eyes, and for the moment, I didn't try to conceal them. I let them fall, and I stay connected to Carlisle, reveling in the glory of his presence, of his safety and of his nurturing.

His eyes were dark black in colour, swimming with an array of emotions – mostly pain, I figured. I could see how troubled Carlisle was, how heartbroken he felt. My heart warmed and ached at the same time. He loved me – he cared for me… and all of this hurt him, too. I could see it there, brimming in his eyes, threatening to pull his typical composure apart at the seams, threatening to unravel him.

"I can try…" I said softly, "to eat, I mean. I can try." Carlisle smiled and I pulled my hand from his face, suddenly aware of the intensity of our interaction, even more so aware that Edward was in the room, sitting right next to me. I felt a pang of guilt, wondering if Edward desired my affection, too.

I was torn.

I wanted to touch him.

I wanted him to hold me, to kiss me. I wanted to feel his affection through a physical connection, but the heaviness of everything was proving to be an overwhelming barrier.

Part of me was unsure exactly how Edward felt, and part of me wanted to shield myself from him. I wasn't sure I could me with him anymore.

Things had changed so irreversibly.

I had changed.

The person he left behind all those months ago – she was gone.

I wasn't someone I recognized anymore.

It wasn't just what the aftermath of what Paul had done to me.

It was the aftermath of what Edward had done, too.

The parts of me that I'd never gotten a chance to heal when left, those wounds were still there, still pulsating, still dictating my every move. The rawness of his abandonment was still pulsing through my body. The memory of him leaving, it was etched into every corner of my mind. It was imprinted on every facet of me. It was building memory inside of me, in my blood.

I couldn't forget.

And I couldn't tell anymore, the difference between my grief and pain. I couldn't tell which parts of the emotional trauma belonged to Paul's actions, and which belonged to Edward.

I was tired. Too tired to think clearly.

Closeness with Edward felt like an opportunity for more pain.

"Bella?" Edward said softly, his eyes searching for mine. I nodded, pulling myself out of my thoughts to listen to what they were saying.

"Esme made you some soup, it appears. I can't promise it'll be any good, we don't cook often, as you know," Carlisle chuckled, walking over to the door, pulling it open to reveal a sadly smiling Esme with a tray of food in her hands.

Her eyes meeting mine. In her eyes, I could see the complexity of emotions brewing within her. She looked absolutely torn between her grief and her relief in seeing me here, alive. I avoided her eyes – they held too much there. It threatened to awaken the anguish I'd been stifling inside of me. I couldn't lose my composure – not again.

Esme came to my bedside as Carlisle pulled a tray over my lap on the bed, pressing a button so that the bed slowly raised itself into a more elevated position. I winced at the action, the process of sitting upright, even with assistance, was still excruciating.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I should have forewarned you. I figured sitting upright would be more conducive to eating soup," he smiled warmly, setting down a large bowl of clear soup broth on the tray in front of me.

"It's not much, but Carlisle suggested we start off small and work our way up. It's a simple bone broth. Very nourishing for humans – from what I've read, at least." I smiled at the bowl of soup and thanked Esme, grateful for her efforts.

I was sure that in any other moment it would have smelled wonderful, but in this moment the wafting scent was causing my stomach to churn.

"Oh dear…" Esme started, looking at me with concern "if it isn't appetizing to you I can prepare something else?" I shook my head, remorse written all over my face.

"It smells great," I assured her, "my stomach is just a bit upset."

"Take your time, Bella. I think your nausea will be helped some by actually getting some nutritious food into you."

I nodded and took a spoonful.

The feeling of the warm liquid sliding down my aching throat was actually quite soothing. I took a few more spoonful's but stopped when I realized that Edward, Esme and Carlisle were silently watching me eat.

"Um…"

Carlisle chuckled and patted Esme gently on the back "this must be uncomfortable for you, Bella. We're all sitting here watching you eat as though it's some kind of show!" I smiled, grateful that he understood.

"We'll leave you to it then, dear. If it's alright with you, can I come visit you a bit later on? Once you've eaten and rested a bit more?" Esme's eyes were still brimming with the anguish and grief that I was afraid to confront, but I couldn't deny her.

"Sure." I smiled what I was sure was an unconvincing smile and then returned back to my bowl of broth.

I heard Edward shuffle beside me and I paused, waiting for him to speak.

"Is it alright if I stay?" He asked, his voice filled with uncertainty. I thought for a moment. This was all so unfamiliar… so uncomfortable. I wasn't sure what to do, how to feel or how to interpret anything between Edward and me anymore. It was complicated and honestly, it was exhausting. But the thought of being alone… of not being near Edward trumped all the other feelings I had.

"Yes. Please do…" I paused, mulling over my thoughts before sharing them aloud "but I… I don't want to talk about today…"

"That's fine, love." My heart swelled and I was sure my cheeks flushed at the sound of him calling me love. He'd been doing it all day, but there had been such chaos surrounding all of our interactions that I'd barely had time to notice it before.

"We can talk about whatever you'd like – anything at all."

"Ok," I smiled, relishing in the thought of being able to forget, even for just a few moments, of all that had happened in a few short hours.

I continued eating, slowly, hoping to avoid upsetting my stomach too much.

And as I did Edward reached a tentative hand out, slowly moving it toward my face. I stiffened at the gesture, worried that affection from him would send me into a tailspin of grief. He paused midair and then continued, his hand gently pressing against my forehead. I sighed, half relieved, half disappointed.

"You feel cold," he said as he stood to his feet "I'm going to add some more wood to the fire. I'll be back in just a minute, ok?"

I paused, alarmed.

He was leaving?

My hand had been holding the spoon from my soup bowl and it started to tremble at the thought. I tried to stop myself, but the thought of Edward leaving had clearly ignited a panic inside of me. I could feel my breathing starting to constrict and I inhaled deeply, trying to calm myself down without Edward noticing.

Edward was by my side instantly, clearly sensing my panic before I even did.

"What is it, Bella? What's wrong?" His voice hit a shaper octave than I was used to.

"I – I… I'm fine…"

"You're not fine, love. You're trembling." He placed his hand on top of my own, stifling the trembling with an incredible gentleness. I looked up at him through my lashes, sighing as I did.

"Don't leave…" I whispered.

Edward's eyes filled with sorrow, the black pools flooding with a hundred indescribable forms of pain. He pushed the tray aside and pulled me into a gentle embrace, placing small kisses on the crown of my head.

"I won't," he promised, his hand rubbing small, gentle circles across my back. All of the emotions I'd been trying to smother inside of me were beginning to boil over. I could feel them bubbling, fighting to claw their way out of me, refusing to be contained.

"I will never leave you again, Bella. I promise you. I promise you…"

And then it cracked and crumbled - those walls I had been constructing out fear, fear of and for Edward, of Paul, of everyone knowing - were crumbling down around me.

I tried to hold it back, to hold my tears at bay, to stifle the emotions that were brutally warring within me to be unleashed, but I had no strength left inside of me. I was at their mercy.

I couldn't fight it, despite wanting to.

"It's ok, love. It's ok," Edward chanted while pressing small, soft kisses to the top of my head. He repeated the words, giving me the permission I had been desperately seeking, but denying myself.

I sobbed in his arms while he held me, pressing me into him as gently as he could without hurting me.

I cried and I cried and I cried until I felt like my body was completely drained of fluids.

I cried for the young girl I'd been when he left me, that had broken into a million pieces – the girl that had shattered under the weight of a broken heart.

I cried for the person I'd become, so far from that young girl, so transformed and completely changed from the months that had passed.

I cried for the person that had been irreversibly transformed by violence. For the girl that had tried to rebuild, only to be shattered all over again.

I cried for Edward, for not knowing… for not understanding. For what we had lost and might possibly never regain now.

I cried for Carlisle and his pain, and for Esme and hers. For Alice, for Jasper, for Emmett, even for Rosalie. For their pain. For their love. For their losses.

I cried because maybe they knew. Because they probably did. Because if they did it would change everything.

I cried because I was scared. Because I knew Paul wasn't done, and I knew that I was failing the people I loved by being here, by not fighting harder to keep them safe.

I cried because it hurt more than I could describe… more than I could bare. Because I'd held it in for so many months, and I didn't have any strength left in me to hold anything in anymore.

I cried because my body ached. Because it was sore, and broken and bruised and hardly recognizable.

I cried because it was the only thing left to do. Because I could do nothing more.

A/N: Folks - thank you for your reviews of the last chapter! It was so lovely and reassuring to hear what you thought of chapter 10.

This chapter was all about Bella and hearing from her. She's in a dark place. She's tired, she's in pain. Her thought process if convoluted and illogical, but it's an essential component of her healing. Bear with her while she sorts through the pain.

To clear up some points of confusion:

Bella refusing to acknowledge that she was r*ped isn't because she thinks what happened wasn't r*pe. It's because she feels ashamed, and doesn't want to admit the truth to Carlisle and to Edward. She's hanging on for dear life, trying to deny the truth because her trauma is clouding her opinion of herself. Her shame is keeping her locked in a place of self-doubt, self-hatred and it makes her believe that they won't care for her in the same way anymore if they know the truth.

I know this might not make sense to everyone, but I'd like to suggest that healing is such a personal and intense experience, and people process trauma differently.

Bella isn't thinking rationally because she's deeply, deeply afraid. Paul was able to manipulate her thoughts through physical and emotional abuse, and he targeted her at a time when she was already vulnerable because Edward had left.

It'll be revealed, in time, why Bella is so afraid of Paul and why she so firmly believes he's capable of brining harm to the Carlisle's.

I hope that helps clarify things a bit? If not, let me know! I'm happy to elaborate as much as I can without spoiling too much of the upcoming chapters.

Thanks again for you support, kind words and your reviews. They're the fuel in my fire and they keep me writing!

xx

-missmarlee