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I like watching Bella sleep. It's kind of fascinating to me. I could watch her like this forever and never get tired of it. She's peaceful and beautiful.

There is enough light from the early morning sky streaming through the doors for me to snap a quick image of her before she wakes. If she knew I was just sitting here watching her, taking pictures of her, I'm sure she'd think I was a creepy stalker.

It was raining when I greeted Bella at the door last night, and she was drenched. I pulled her inside, engulfed her in my arms, and kissed her cool, wet lips.

She was shivering as I backed her into the great room, kissing her the whole way. She burrowed into my chest as I pulled her rain jacket off and wrapped her in a wool throw. I kissed her temple before settling her down and heading for the brandy.

I took her over the arm of the sofa, because she told me we needed to stock up for my trip. Then we moved to my bedroom where Bella climbed on top of me, astride the settee, and rode me into oblivion.

By the time we made it to my bed, it was after midnight. We lay facing each other as I pulled her knee over my hip and slipped inside her one last time. It was slow and sensual, and it wasn't the first time I thought of the phrase "making love" when I was inside of Bella.

Now, I'm a little melancholy, missing her already. I take her picture and kneel next to the bed. Bella is curled into a tight, little ball. We agreed to go for a run this morning, but I'll be surprised if she wants to get up and go after our late night – Bella isn't the most gregarious of morning people.

"Baby…" I run a finger around her jaw and a thumb across her bottom lip as she stirs. "It's early, but I'm going for a run. I'd love you to join me if you're up for it."

Bella rolls and stretches and moans. Her hair is a mess and her cheeks are pink. She inhales deeply and smiles like an angel. I'm instantly hard.

"Yeah," she breathes. "I'll come. Let me get dressed. What's it like outside?"

"Fifty, clear, sun's almost over the ridge." I stand and back up so she can climb out of bed. "You might need sleeves, but shorts will do."

I sit and tie my shoelaces, watching Bella disappear behind the bedroom door with her running clothes. Five minutes later, she meets me downstairs and we take off on a quick jaunt.

Bella keeps a steady pace. She's a strong runner, and I love watching her stride. She's so tiny, but her legs are long and muscular. When she runs, she uses her entire body, flexing. Her body was made for this… and for me.

After our run, we shower together. Bella loves my shower, although she tries not to make a big deal out of it. However, the look on her face when the water hits her is euphoric. I just want to crush her against the wall and sink inside her tight, little body.

"Turn around, baby." I grab the travel-sized bottle of Bella's shampoo that she left in my shower three days ago. "I want to wash your hair."

I love her hair. If I were one of those fetishists who were into hair, Bella would be the number one object of my obsession. As is, she's pretty much the number one object of my obsession.

I massage the sweet suds into her scalp, and Bella relaxes into my body. The hot water sluices over our joined forms as I rinse the shampoo from her hair. Her conditioner has a peppery-herbal scent that complements her naturally sweet scent.

I lather up a loofah with the coconut and apricot body wash that she likes, and gently massage her beautiful skin. Her skin is amazing, glowing, smooth.

Once Bella is clean, she pushes me to my knees, giggling, and washes my hair. Her fingers massage my scalp, simultaneously making me harder than I was before, and totally relaxed. I just want to please her, make her moan, scream my name.

Fuck.

"Sit down," I tell her, as I turn on my knees and shift her hips to the built-in bench along the far wall. Thankfully, she washed all the soap from my hair.

Bella sits and automatically lifts her delicate foot to rest on my shoulder. I settle between her knees and push her open wide, bracing her other foot against the adjacent wall.

Her hands are in my hair, digging, pulling, more demanding than they were when they were washing. Fuck, it feels good. I curl my arm around the thigh that's braced against my shoulder, and I slide one finger up and down her opening with my other hand.

My thumb and forefinger open her lower lips, and I taste her. She moans and slumps down, just a little, tugging my hair a little more. I stroke my fingers inside her and gently suck her clit between my lips.

Bella comes on my fingers and my tongue. Although she isn't always loud when she comes, I am granted with the screams I had hoped for.

"Yes!" She gasps for air. "Edward, yes!"

She grips my hair and pulls me up, whispering that she wants to hold me. She holds me, and she thanks me. She kisses me with desperation.

After our shower, Bella is swathed in a large crimson bath sheet as she slathers lotion up and down her tanned and toned legs. She's mumbling about my trip, more to herself than to me.

"It's only two weeks…"

She doesn't say it out loud, because she doesn't want to make herself vulnerable, but she will miss me.

"Yes." I button two buttons on my white Henley as I approach her to take her in my arms. "Just two weeks, Bella – I need to wrap up a few things – then I'll be back and we can enjoy the rest of the summer."

I make Bella a latte in the kitchen and boil water for my tea. I hear her hum with delight at her first sip, and I glance over my shoulder to be graced with a blissful expression covering her face.

Fuck, I'm going to miss her.

We are in my car park. Bella's fidgeting, mumbling about random things, like having to get to a meeting. She's having breakfast with Rosalie, so I'm pretty sure we have time to say goodbye.

She's avoiding.

"Look at me." The airport limo pulls around the curve as I bury a hand in her hair. She looks up at me and tilts head a little, furrows her brow. I pull her close and kiss her forehead.

"Two weeks, baby," I whisper into her hair. "And I'll call you. Don't worry."

As she pulls back from my embrace, her hands rest on my chest. She half-heartedly scoffs and shakes her head.

"I'm not worried…" she mumbles.

"Neither am I," I assure her as I kiss her lips. "I'll call you tonight. Good luck this week."

Bella nods and hikes her bag up on her shoulder. She looks at the ground, the limo, my bag; anywhere but my face.

The driver loads my bag into the car, and Bella climbs into her beat up old Jeep. As we follow her down the drive, down the mountain, and then turn the opposite direction from her on Main Street, I feel a pit in my stomach.

I text Bella from the plane to tell her I'm thinking about her, and she finally admits to missing me. Even if it is just a text message, I figure it's a start.

I step off of the plane and into the humid afternoon air of Chicago. I go through the motions of landing at O'Hare, find my driver, and head to the home I used to share with Tanya.

"Daddy!"

Before I can shut the door, Delia tackles my legs. She convinced Tanya to text me approximately eighteen times in the last 36-hours. Obviously, she was as anxious to see me, as I was to see her.

"Baby girl…" I drop my bag, crouch to pick her up, and sigh in contentment. I hold her close and she tells me, "welcome home".

How did I ever think I could be away from her?

"Welcome home, Mr. Cullen." Heidi's voice is friendly and professional as always. "Delia has spoken of nothing else since you left."

I secure Delia on my hip, beaming at Heidi. Then I see Tanya slowly descending the staircase. She appears entirely removed from the situation in front of her. I am instantly reminded of why I left.

I watch Tanya saunter toward us as Delia clumsily pulls my sunglasses from my face with one hand and tugs at the placket of my Henley with the other. Tanya's eyes lazily follow Delia's hand as it pats my cheek.

In a way that only a three-year-old can, Delia says, "Daddy, I made you a present!"

"You made me a present for your birthday?" I chuckle, and push Delia's messy hair out of her eyes. "What a sweetheart!"

I tickle her, and she giggles and writhes in my arms. She smacks my hands away and Heidi says something about making lunch, before she whisks Delia out of my arms and disappears into the kitchen.

"Hey…" Tanya's voice is rough. She's been crying. And she's medicated.

"Hey," I respond, swallowing the lump in my throat. I dig my hands in my pockets and rock on the balls of my feet.

Tanya takes a deep breath and closes the distance between us. She slips her arms under mine, wrapping herself around my torso. She settles her head on my chest, and I smell the familiar scents of jasmine and sandalwood.

I slowly encircle her shoulders with my arms, and we stand quietly in the foyer for what seems like hours until Tanya clears her throat.

"I'm thinking about taking a vacation." Tanya releases and steps away from me, shaking her hair over her shoulders. "Kate and I... I think it would be good for me. I've been so…" Tanya rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Emotional."

There is a noticeable difference in Tanya's behavior, for sure. The old standards – her indifference, her drug use – seem more pronounced. This is a bitter realization.

Delia runs down the hall yelling, "Daddy," telling us that lunch is ready. I'm not at all hungry, but if Delia wants me to sit and have lunch with her, I'm not saying "no".

We have chicken salad and Delia picks out her onions. Heidi tells us that Delia's Montessori guide sent home a glowing report of Delia's development this summer.

"Daddy, Carmen says I'm bright." I decipher Delia-speak as she hops into my lap and puts her little hands around my neck.

My daughter is bright. At three-years old, she is more articulate and intellectual than some of the grown men I know who have law degrees.

"Need to shave, Daddy…" Delia scrunches up her little nose, staring at my mouth, poking me in the jaw. "Scruffy."

I laugh out loud at my daughter's frankness, before kissing her on the forehead. I'll shave while I'm here, since Delia prefers it. I think about how bummed Bella will be when I return to Forks clean-shaven. Then I think about making it up to her.

"Okay," Heidi thankfully interrupts my thoughts of Bella sprawled out naked and sweaty on my bedroom floor, to take Delia to get cleaned up. "Time for your nap, pumpkin. Tell Daddy you'll see him when you wake up."

Delia kisses my nose, and I kiss her cheek, before leaving her mother and I alone again. Tanya stands to clear our dishes from the kitchen table, and I help.

Once the dishwasher is loaded, Tanya walks to the table to retrieve our glasses and refills them with sweet tea. We walk out to the patio and choose a couple of lounge chairs in the shade. I sit on the edge of my seat, facing the pool, and Tanya settles back and closes her eyes.

After several moments, Tanya breaks the silence. "What do you think about Delia coming to visit you while I'm gone?"

I blink at the water, then slowly turn to face her.

I should not be stunned by Tanya's proposition, but I am. While I have always been the more attentive, nurturing parent, Tanya is Delia's mother. I know that she adores Delia. I cannot fathom why she would leave her now, while we're separated, to go on vacation.

"When?" I stare at her, as she lies in repose, seemingly careless.

"Next month." Tanya sighs. "If it's too much trouble, I'm sure Heidi could watch her."

Too much trouble? What is she talking about?

"Tanya…" I reach out to touch her, and she glances down at my hand on her thigh. "Delia is my daughter. She could never be trouble."

Tanya scoffs and rolls her eyes. "That's easy for you to say. You've been off gallivanting around the western slope with your new girlfriend."

I blanch at her tone and implication that I'm acting selfishly or inappropriately. Never mind the fact that Tanya has never been, and never will be, Delia's primary care taker. Just as I'm about to plead my own defense, she speaks.

"I'm sorry." Tanya waves a hand dismissively, and then settles her head back to the headrest. "That was unfair of me. It's obviously none of my business who you fuck or when. I'm just a little overwhelmed right now with Delia and – whatever… Anyway, if you could take her while I'm gone, I'd really appreciate it. And she'd love it, of course."

Tanya rolls her eyes, and I don't remember her ever being this glacial.

"Wait… Are you angry at me for having a relationship, or for being a good father?" I ask, bracing myself for a fight.

Tanya and I have never had a fight – not a real one – but I think that's exactly what we're about to have. As aware as I am that she probably won't remember what is said this afternoon, I am livid-pissed, and she will hear what I have to say.

"Because the last time I checked, you were fucking the pool boy at regular intervals and with great intensity, and I was the one tucking Delia into bed every night. But I overlooked it, Tanya. I only ever wanted you to be happy."

Tanya scoffs again and swings her legs off her chair to stand.

"Yes, I know." She shuffles to the outdoor bar and pours a glass of bourbon, neat. "You've always wanted me to be happy. And trust me, Edward, you did a magnificent job of trying."

I stare at her as she stumbles, and then gulps down the brown liquid.

"But, you know what?" Tanya sloppily pours another two fingers of bourbon before sitting on a chair opposite me. "I'm not happy. And I can't be happy. Not here. I thought you'd always be here, Edward…"

I've decided to live my life, move on, and she accuses me of the one thing I swore I would never do. She's accusing me of abandoning her.

"Don't you dare." I feel my jaw tighten and my fists clench. "Don't you dare sit there and tell me I'm not doing right by you and our daughter-"

"Our daughter?" Tanya slurs and arches a drunken brow. "The last time I checked, she was my daughter, Edward. You can tuck her into bed at night all you want, but she'll never be yours."

It's a damn good thing I know her venomous words are the product of her mother's upbringing and her chronic ingestion of benzo and alcohol. She's hurting right now, and it's me who's catching the fire. I try to shake it off, focus on what she's saying instead of how she's saying it. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, slacken my jaw and exhale.

"I know you're angry." I open my eyes to see her swaying in her seat, a tear running down her cheek. "Tanya, I promised you I would take care of you, and I mean to honor that promise."

Tanya closes her eyes, and her chin trembles lightly. I stand, walk to her shaking form, pull the glass from her hand to place it back on the bar, slip one arm under her knees and one around her waist, and lift her from her chair. She automatically rolls into me, looping her arms around my neck and pressing her face into my shoulder.

"I'm sorry." She sobs quietly, as I take the stairs to her bedroom. "But I miss you, E. I miss you so much."

It seems that Tanya isn't the only one who's changed. As I lay her groggy, sniffling body on her bed to rest, and cover her with a light, cashmere throw, I'm smacked with the realization that, for the first time in my life, I am virtually unaffected by her tears.

Tanya and my interaction is scarce for the remainder of my time in Chicago. I call Emmett that first Tuesday night to tell him about my meetings and about Tanya's breakdown. Then, most of my stay is filled with conference calls from home, a few lunches, and lots of time with Delia.

Delia and I bake cookies with Heidi, go to the Zoo to see the penguins, play Webkinz, watch High School Musical three times, spend some Daddy-Daughter time on the lake, and every night Delia falls asleep in my arms.

I miss Bella. I talk to her nightly before bed and text her all fucking day, but the contact doesn't alleviate the longing I feel for her. The pit in my stomach that formed the second her truck turned away from my car just swells and swells every minute we're apart.

I can hear the indecision in her voice and read it in her messages. I just hope she doesn't decide this is a rebound, because that's bullshit. She knows it, and I know it. What we have is yet to be defined, but it's… fucking awesome. It's what I've always wanted.

Friday's meetings are particularly stressful. This thing with the Call land is becoming more and more complicated. At the end of the day, I head to the pool for a swim. After twenty laps, I decide to grab a bottle of water and a shower before phoning Bella to tell her goodnight.

The hot shower relaxes my muscles, but my mind is still racing with energy and thoughts. I wish Bella were here. I think about that picture I took of her the morning I left. I imagine her in my Vanquish, in the pool, in the shower with me now.

I'm hard as ever thinking about her tight curves and smooth skin. I need a fucking release. I wonder briefly if she'll have phone sex with me.

There's only one way to find out.

I don't have to coax Bella into listening to me talk dirty about her and cars and what I want to do to her. She's so turned on that when I say the word "driving", she groans loudly into the phone.

I can hear her coming, and I want to climb through the phone and devour her. Instead, I tell her about Delia. I tell her good luck, and I tell her that I'll see her soon.

Once I talk to Delia about her visiting Forks, she talks non-stop about seeing "Uncle Emmett" and meeting all my new friends.

Bella and I have never really talked about how she feels about children. I still haven't told her about Delia's visit; I'd like to tell her in person and see her reaction. I trust Bella to be truthful with me, but sometimes I don't think she trusts herself with her own feelings. I don't want her to hide from me.

Carlisle and Esme return from London on the second Wednesday afternoon that I'm in Chicago, and by four-thirty P.M., Delia is in her grandmother's arms laughing, as all children should, without a care in the world.

Kahlila, Carlisle and Esme's housekeeper, makes a beautiful roast duck, and we talk about their trip. After dinner, Esme and Kahlila take Delia to play with the neighbor's new puppy, and Carlisle and I settle in his library for a cognac.

"Delia seems well." Carlisle pours us each a drink before taking a seat opposite me in a club chair.

"She's good." I nod. "Tanya is not."

Carlisle inhales deeply through his nose, never taking his eyes from mine. "Tanya is in a lot of pain, Edward. None of that pain is your fault. You know that, right?"

I do know that, but there is still that part of me – the part that promised I would never leave her – that has feelings of guilt and remorse for letting her down.

"I know," I agree. "But Tanya doesn't. She blames me."

"She doesn't blame you. Not entirely," Carlisle asserts, as he stretches toward the table where his humidor rests. "Tanya just needs to think things over."

Carlisle guillotines the tips of the cigars, lights a match, and gets us started. He asks me about Bella with a smirk on his face. I feel like I'm in high school again, being scrutinized by my pops for my crush on a girl.

I accept the proffered cigar with a smile, and swirl my brandy in its snifter.

"Bella is sublime." I relax into my chair, take a puff and a sip, and feel my smile grow wide.

"You look… Happy, Edward." Carlisle's expression is bemused. "What can you tell me about her?"

I tell my pops about her smile, her eyes, her kindness, and her generosity. I tell him she's like a riddle, without even trying, and that I can't wait to see what we'll be like once we get past all the early-relationship insecurities.

"She's a good, honest person." I grin and my hands itch to touch her face. "It's still early – we have obstacles. She can be closed off at times. But… I'm still just… in awe of her. All the time."

Carlisle looks at me for a long time before responding, "No agenda?"

"None." I'm just as amazed as he is. "Bella just… wants to be with me. It kind of shocks me, actually."

"It shouldn't." Carlisle's smile is wry as he taps his cigar on the ashtray next to his chair. "But you've been burned before. Now you have a chance to start over."

"Yeah," I breathe, and think about including Bella in my next steps to 'starting over'. "It's nice to think of it that way."

We sit in silence, as the thoughts I've had since I met Bella, and then came home to my old life, solidify in my head. I'm filing for divorce. Pops is right; I have a chance to start over.

Delia bursts into the room asking if she can have a puppy, because the neighbors have a German Shepard, "and it's soooooo cute, Daddy!"

I laugh and shake my head, not "no", but in amusement. "We'll see, baby. But it's time to go, so say bye-bye to Grandma and Pops."

We say our goodbyes, I remind my parents that I'm leaving on Sunday, and we make plans to have dinner again in the next few days.

At home, I tuck Delia into bed before running into Tanya in the hall.

"Edward," Tanya gasps, startled. "H-how are you?"

Tanya and I haven't spoken to each other since our argument. While that conversation was less than pleasant, I will not let this interaction, and what I'm about to say to her, kill the positive mood my conversation with Carlisle brought about.

"I'm well." I nod and smile lightly. I gauge her reaction to my casual tone, and she seems contrite, obviously remembering some of the things she said.

"Edward," Tanya speaks slowly, cautiously reaching for my hand. "I'm sorry. Please know that I… I didn't mean any of those things. You're a fantastic father to Delia. The only father she will ever have, Edward. "

I look into her eyes and see genuine remorse. Oddly, her uncharacteristically apologetic behavior encourages me further.

"Let's…" I motion to Delia's door. "Move to the library?"

Tanya and I leave the second floor of the house and enter the library on the floor below. I pour us each a drink, and Tanya eyes hers guardedly.

"Tanya," I speak clearly and gently. "I have never lied to you. I promised to always care for you, and I meant that."

Tanya nods somberly, taking a small sip of whiskey.

"That said," I firmly continue with my plan. "I'm filing for divorce as soon as possible."

Her shoulders slump in defeat. Once again, I do not feel compelled to comfort her. I don't want Tanya to suffer, but I refuse to continue sacrificing my freedom - my comfort - for hers. We've been over this, but my announcement makes it more real for her.

"I'm taking Delia on the lake again tomorrow," I declare, as I finish my drink. "We'll be out all day, I presume."

"Okay." She nods and stands to leave her drink virtually untouched. "Edward, I really am sorry."

"I know." I flash a tight smile. "So am I."

We embrace in a way that we never have. I think this is the most honest moment Tanya and I have ever had. The embrace is one of equals, partners, and I could not be more pleased.

Thursday, Friday, and Saturday are excruciating. I'm busy with meetings and making the necessary arrangements for Delia's Forks stay, but I can't stop thinking of Bella.

You'll see her on Sunday. Calm the fuck down.

Saturday night, I call Bella for the last time from my old home in Chicago.

"Hello?" Bella is out of breath, and unsurprisingly, listening to her heavy breathing over the phone is a huge turn on.

"Hey, been running?"

"Hi." Bella's voice softens. "No, just… I was downstairs and left my phone on the balcony. What's up? You're coming home tomorrow! Erm… I mean, back to Forks."

I chuckle at what she would call her "word vomit". "Yes, I'm coming home tomorrow." I feel my smile grow. "And I have a few things to discuss with you."

"Oh… 'Kay?" Bella sounds hesitant and maybe a little nervous.

"It's all good, though," I assure her. "What's you schedule tomorrow? I'm thinking about trying to get out of here earlier than planned, if I can."

"I'm wide open," she answers, and I have a brief visual of her 'wide open'.

Fuck.

"Good." I lick my lips and lower my voice, lying back into my pillows. "That's just the way I like you."

"Ohhh. Well, good." The breathy nature of her voice is more a result of lust than exertion at this point. However, Delia is sleeping next to me right now, which makes phone sex an impossibility.

"Good," I agree. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay? Let you know when I'm taking off?"

"'K," Bella answers, and I want to be there with her right now.

"Sleep well, baby." I want to kiss her. "I'll see you very soon."

"Yeah." Her voice is dreamy. I love the affect I have on her. "See you…"

We end our call, and I glance to Delia's sleeping form, cuddling with Mr. Gordo.

"You get to meet Bella soon, Princess." I rearrange the blankets around her. "And I'm sure you two will love each other just as much as I do."