Hey, there. I just wanted to apologize to everyone for my sporadic and frustrating updating schedule. I know I'm probably losing readers at an exponential rate because of it. But enough about that, here's the chapter. Oh, and btw, please excuse my sucky sonnet writing skills and just write them off as Edward being adorable. Or you could tell me they sucked, but then Edward's no longer adorable. I don't want that. :(

I was approaching familiar stoplights and landmarks that were just strangers to me just a handful of weeks ago. There was the fresh land set out and leveled for a new hotel to be built–though I hadn't noticed any activity there since the last Bobcat left.

There was the always busy gas station with higher prices than the 7-Eleven just three blocks down. I never understood that. Benches lined the streets with unchanging, worn out photos of real estate agents gracing their backs and crazy characters waiting for the next bus resting on their seats.

I never knew this street before, but I did now.

It was the main one. The longest one. The one with the most traffic.

The one that led me to Edward.

Changes had been made to both of our lives over the past weeks since I got back from my book tour.

I, dun dah dun dun, got a new job–a temporary job. Well, I wasn't a temp, but I considered this job to just be temporary for me.

I was in Human Resources for a local company that sold sportswear catalogues. They were small at a national standard, but steadily successful throughout the state. I got a small wing in helping with employee welfare . . . and all that jazz. The head of Human Resources Management told me that the more experience I have in the field, the further I'd move up.

It was a silly, average, nine-to-five job with average pay that would get me by and then some for a while. It wasn't something I had necessarily fantasized about doing when I was younger, but then again I really didn't fantasize about work back then. The point was, it was stable. It was everything I needed at this point in my life.

And I didn't really mind it at all.

It gave me something to do–something to look forward to. It kept me distracted and busy and all around healthy. I liked it.

One day, if I wasn't happy with it, I'd move on somehow. I already proved to myself that I could. Whether it be continuing my schooling or just finding another field with my experience, I'd go for it. After all, I wasn't really the type of person to stick with something I hated.

Life was short and it would be miserable to live it that way.

Edward was still continuing his rehab at Kirkland. He was making as much progress as to be expected. Some days he'd be on top of the world and other's he'd be wondering why he bothered to open his eyes.

It wasn't depression or bipolar disorder. It was just the changes and feelings all weighing down on him daily. I couldn't imagine what it would be like taking that all in. Even after the routine engraved itself into his head and associates fell into a first-name basis, he told me he was still uncomfortable.

The unsettling aspect of being in a foreign place or the harsh realities of his past drug abuse weren't the things holding him back. From our conversations, I had grasped that his biggest obstacle was talking about the triggers–mainly stress relating to his family. He didn't say any of this directly, which led me to believe it even truer. He was pretty open about everything else.

Other than the fact he was making progress, while still holding back some, I really didn't know anything else about what was going on in there. I mean, Edward was my only source of information and our conversations and visits were generally short. I was sure talking about meetings and counselor's various opinions on "progress" and "attitude" certainly wouldn't be on Edward's top discussion priorities when visiting with someone from the outside. He had to deal with that nearly twenty-four/seven as it was. Downtime away from that must be refreshing.

Whatever he needed me to do while we spent our time together, I would do. There was no hesitation. I just wanted Edward to feel comfortable for a while. It was all I could genuinely offer.

There weren't any big explosions of action or melodramatic grand gestures at all in the past month or so. We didn't need anymore of those. And because of all this, I found my general attitude toward everything changing. It was sort of enlightening.

I wasn't growing outrageously optimistic–about anything, really. I was just content with the way things were in my life right now. I had a job. I talked to Renee more often. Alice and Jasper were doing well. The whole "Bella Swan Doesn't Write for Fun Anymore" event just stayed under the radar–nobody seemed to notice, and for the ones that did, it didn't seem to affect them at all.

And of course, Edward remaining focused and on track helped a lot with my mood.

He had hit a few snags every once in a while, breaking minor rules intentionally, being closed in on himself and purposefully vague to his associates, trying to carry a nice conversation with me but failing–random things that I really couldn't truly understand or relate to, but I could at least be there for him and wait for the bad day or week to pass over.

Usually by the next time I talked to him, it would, and he'd be back to the same hopeful Edward he continually strived to be.

Basically, things had been on a good streak for a long time.

Which of course got me thinking to when things would start taking a turn for the worse.

Because they always did that.

Always.

Some things were too good to be true, and logic suggested that this, this thing with Edward and rehab and Buprenorphine and Kirkland, was one of them.

But I couldn't go around actively willing something bad to happen just to soften the blow of when (of if. . .) it did. If I was the only person in this equation, I could, and I'd probably do it without hesitation.

But I wasn't the only person here.

There was Edward to think about. And I had to stay positive with him. God only knows what would happen if I started to randomly start to doubt him openly with no good reason. I would be crazy to do so.

And then there was Alice, because if I started getting all moody again, waiting for something that might not happen to happen, things would shift to another awkward stage between us and I didn't want that. Things were looking up for us recently. She took me to the mall and I got my hair cut, and she helped me pick out an entire outfit that didn't say "Use me over and over again; I like it." She owned an over-the-shoulder bag that said those exact words–in some sick, twisted way I'm guessing it was supposed to be pro-recycling.

I still didn't want to give off that mixed vibe.

Time passed and as I neared the small lane leading to Kirkland, I briefly reviewed the basics I had been told recently about Edward's current position. I wanted to be sharp on all of his current breakthroughs for when we'd meet up again.

The last time we spoke he told me that his case manager was really confident in his ability to remain sober post-rehab, and that in turn made Edward feel the same way. He said the manager told him that staying clean was one hundred percent in his hands, and that he never had to go back to the way he was before. Then, Edward got sheepish and said in a quiet tone that he had a mini epiphany. I thought it was adorable, and really amazing.

I was witnessing the transformation of Edward from a hopeless drug addict to someone forty-two days sober and counting. A lot of things were changing.

Crazy, crazy, crazy, was all I could think.

And it was. Everything about us was crazy. How we met. How we got together. How we came to where we were. How I was handling it all. How quickly Edward was changing.

That was to be expected though. With Edward's determined attitude and his new clean slate in rehab, things were bound to go one-eighty on him.

But everything else . . . was crazy.

And at this moment, I wouldn't change a thing.

I briefly smiled in anticipation as I exited my car.

I was going to see Edward.

There was a separate building from the main recreation hall that visitors were allowed in. It was mostly used for large lectures and "physically engaging group activities." Edward told me those were basically just yoga routines that were more awkward than lifting.

The sky was black in night and the lone lamp post was flickering softly. There were some other people getting out of their cars and walking in. I couldn't really see their faces but their movements were as eager and jumpy as mine. It was cold outside and there were people inside that we wanted to see.

There was a young girl leaning against her car. As I walked past towards the building, she started with me.

"So who are you meeting?" She inquired with a really pretty smile. I couldn't remember ever seeing her before, but her eyes were familiar.

"A friend," I spoke clearly.

"Are you afraid?"

I furrowed my eyebrows at two things – the fact that she was talking to me, and my response. "No, actually, I'm not anymore."

She laughed without humor, her demeanor suddenly changing.

I looked down, shy. "Who are you meeting?"

When she didn't answer after a pause I chanced a glance at her. She was looking up at the street light and it reflected tears in her eyes. She looked older than I had originally guessed.

"My father," she admitted as we both stopped walking.

I didn't know whether to stay and talk with her or to just go in, but she seemed sad and it would be polite to at least make sure she made it in okay.

"And are you afraid?" I asked softly, the sound of cars disappearing on the gravel road fading.

She sniffled delicately and looked at me with rueful eyes. "Not at first, I wasn't. I wanted to be strong for him, and I felt like-like if we could just be strong enough together that he'd be fine . . . but he doesn't want to try anymore.

"One by one they all stopped visiting, mom, my sister." A strangled sob escaped her body as it jerked away from mine.

"You're still here," I whispered.

She composed herself quickly and wiped a finger beneath her eye as a tear fell over.

"I don't even know why anymore," She said bluntly before walking away.

During the past month, my happiness had clouded the constant fear I had for Edward. And I had a lot of things to be happy about, but they would fade quicker than the fear inducing ones.

I barely knew anything about the young-ish girl and her father, but I wasn't stupid and I could draw a lot of meaning out of her few words and body language.

She wasn't warning me or trying her hand at intimidation. She was alone and she saw me and wanted to say something. She had to get it out.

But she came to her senses, I watched it all happen as she showed a love and sympathy for her father only a daughter could hold, and then she closed herself up.

I guess she had put herself out there too much, and she just couldn't take it anymore. It was obvious visiting him caused her pain. Her love was putting her on auto pilot to protect her heart.

And I didn't know how to feel or what to say. Everything was alright now but that didn't mean it would be in the future.

In a matter of days everything could change. But until then I had to remain positive for Edward.

I think I needed the girl's soft confession to remain mentally prepared. I had seen what caring for an addict could do to a person. It was . . . saddening.

But I had to believe in Edward.

Or else my fear would eat me alive.

As soon as I walked into the open hall I spotted Edward sitting at a round table with some other people. His leg was bouncing up and down and his eyes were on me. I gave him a half smile because my mood wasn't that great anymore and we walked across the back wall to meet halfway.

"Hey," I said as he wrapped one arm around my shoulder and pulled me into a hug. That's what we were doing these days – the one armed-hug. We saw each other pretty often and there was no more need for the dramatic spinning hugs, especially because we weren't dating.

"How are you?" he asked. Ah, I loved his voice.

I ran a hand through my hair and flipped my bangs. "I'm good, you?"

He let out a sharp laugh and then stopped. "I'm fine."

I quirked an eyebrow. "What's up?"

He looked away and tried to fight a smile. "It's nothing. It's just that the feeling I get when I see you, or wait for you by the door, it's a lot like the feeling I used to get while I waited for my mom to pick me up from pre-school." He faced me slowly. "I hope that didn't creep you out,"

I shook my head quickly. "No, that was really sweet, Edward." I smiled as I understood. I guess the two feelings had their similarities. You were away from something all day long, and you waited and waited until a door opened and they were there. And suddenly your whole day changed.

"For the longest time it felt really familiar, and I couldn't place it. But today I could." He smiled again as he gestured with his arm that I lead the way towards the row of chairs. There was a PowerPoint on the screen and the apparent lecturer sitting up front reading a book.

Edward put his arm around the back of my chair but that was the extent of our contact. I smiled up at him before the man started speaking and placed my hand on his leg. He did not protest.

We did these little things all the time, but I doubted they meant anything deep to Edward. And I didn't really care at the moment. We weren't playing with each other's emotions or dancing around our hearts. He knew I understood that we couldn't progress romantically right now, but he was fine with small, friendly contact.

I just liked his warmth.

I think my touches sometimes reminded him that he wasn't alone, because his breathing always evened out and I could feel his muscles relax.

The presentation started out with facts for the man to read. It began just gently brushing on how the brain reacts to the physical addiction of drugs and alcohol, how the chemistry changes. The next few slides dove in deeper to specific drugs, methamphetamine, cocaine, oxycotin and heroin. I had heard a lot of the stuff before in past health classes from my glory days in high school, but the pictures of the physical effects were all new to me. It was really gross.

As the lecture progressed, he started telling stories about people, even about himself. It turned out he was a recovering addict himself, and had done crystal meth in the past. He was sober now and doing well, but he lost his fiancée and daughter. His parents no longer speak with him but his brother keeps in contact sometimes. He didn't really go in too deep about why his parents had cut him off completely, but it must have been bad.

Even as he told story after heartbreaking story, he stayed completely professional. He was the kind of guy who spoke quickly, tonelessly, and matter-of-factly to make the harsher realities harsher.

And it freaking worked.

My mood dropped several notches just because of the pure sadness these nameless people's stories exuded. And I wasn't always sorry for the drug addicts, but for the families. Some of them had been through hell and back and it was crazy. For some reason, drug addicts and alcoholics always end up having some kid, and then they get stuck in the situation and you just want to pull your hair out at the thought of all the emotional trauma they went through, and what will probably become of them.

By far it was an extremely engaging presentation and the man knew what he was doing. He left us with a final message of just simple reality and consequences, and I suddenly wasn't so sad anymore–just emotionally drained.

He smiled humorlessly at our reactions and questions, but other than that showed no emotion. You could still tell he was a genuine person, though. He wasn't exactly getting paid for doing this.

Afterwards we had a few moments as he took extra questions. When I came in there were two half pots of coffee left and some Oreos. Now the coffee was gone. All the Oreos remained.

Some people dispersed with their respective family members, others left. I smiled at Edward and pushed off his leg with my hand and used it as leverage. Once up I offered him help and he stood with me. He rubbed my knuckles once before letting my hand go. We walked to an empty table near the doors and leaned against it for support.

"He was really good," I offered as a conversation starter.

Edward smirked and nodded, eyes somewhere else.

I didn't know how much more time we had left before I had to go, but it couldn't be a lot.

Out of curiosity, I scanned the room and noticed that it had the same design scheme of pale, washed out wall colors and light sketches on the walls. The only difference this building had with the other was its hard wood floors.

I noticed the girl I had met earlier still sitting in an audience chair with a man next to her. I assumed it was her father.

She was staring straight ahead with her hands clasped in her lap. Her eyes were wide but they held no expression. Her father was leaning on his elbows over his knees, staring at nothing too.

They weren't speaking and there was no physical way to tell, but everything about them screamed dreaded acceptance.

"Do you know who they are?" I asked Edward in a normal voice, gesturing with my arm briefly to point out where they were.

He scanned them quickly before his eyes narrowed in recognition.

He cleared his throat and looked down at his feet. "The man's name is Roy, and that's his daughter beside him, Starr."

I nodded while turning back to look him in the eyes. "She spoke to me in the parking lot,"

He lifted his head. "About?"

I sighed. "I don't know, it was weird, she told me she was meeting her father and that she was afraid. She said he didn't want to try anymore," I ended the sentence as a question. If Edward knew anything about the two, I was curious. The unknown about the situation just added to the emptiness her story brought.

He breathed a laugh without humor. Everyone did that around here. "Roy's had it rough, but, he had a good thing going for a while. I don't know what happened. Sometimes you get these thoughts in your head and you just lose the drive, I guess.

It's not that he doesn't love his family, because he does, very much, but he's kinda fucked right now." He shrugged. "I don't know, it happens, Bella." His eyes were distant, but they held the same thing that Roy and Starr's position did, dreaded acceptance.

It wasn't something of question for him or Roy, apparently. When it happened, it didn't come as a surprise to them, it was just what it was.

"Oh," was all I could say.

"Starr's been a real trooper, but it's starting to weigh on her now. She shows up every other week during the last ten minutes of visiting hours and just sits with him." He stretched out and sighed. "He's leaving soon."

I didn't ask him anymore about the topic.

Only a few seconds of silence passed before I felt Edward gently caress my face. He gave me a look that said I didn't have to worry right now. Then it disappeared.

"Oh! I almost forgot," He dug around in his back jean pocket before pulling out a folded piece of notebook paper. I smiled.

"This is a pretty recent sonnet that I deemed acceptable," He smiled crookedly before placing the paper in my hands. "You can read it now," Finally, I thought. He'd teased me with the possibility of reading his work for weeks.

I unfolded it eagerly and bit my lip. I didn't know quite what to expect. But perhaps it would shed a little more light on the way he was thinking when not around me or anyone for that matter, when he was left alone with his thoughts.

Sometimes I let myself sit and wonder,
when lights are out and I don't want to sleep,
about leaving now without the blunder
of future mistakes, and taking the leap.

I can almost see myself in that life
Working and living and being normal.
Then the realization cuts like a knife
Life for me will never be that formal.

I will always carry this ball and chain.
My mind will always go back to one thing.
I think about it now despite the pain
"Nothing will be easy," says the dull sting.

I'm told that faith and hard work will pay
And now I strive to believe what they say.

"And you didn't even cheat," I muttered under my breath.

"What's that?" Edward asked in a small laugh.

"Your syllables, you didn't even cheat on those. Shakespeare did."

"Well, I wanted to."

I looked back at the paper and reread a few lines. "Do you always feel this way?"

He sighed and looked away, changing his demeanor like I did. "A lot of times, yes, but it's not all bad, Bella. It's just part of the recovery process; I have to change. I still want to get better, and I still want that life no matter what.

"In the beginning, it was harder to take everything they said seriously, but I'm finding out that there's no reason not to believe them. They're only here to help and that's what I need.

"The biggest thing I have to fear right now is myself, not them, not the future, not leaving. It's only me, but I can control it. I just have to work hard."

"I mean, yeah, heroin will always be with me in a big way, but I don't have to go back. Ever."

I hugged him then because everything he said was exactly what I needed to hear after tonight. I hugged him because right then, at that moment, he was my freaking hero. And I briefly wondered if a moment like this ever happened to Starr and her father Roy, and if she was swept off her feet by hope. But then I realized that even if she was, none of it mattered to Edward or I. We were different people from them, and our situation was nothing like theirs'. Yeah, it might turn out a hell of a lot worse, or it could just become a miracle.

Whatever happened, happened, but right then, I just needed to hug him – to let him know that I was everything for him – happy, sad, proud, worried, hopeful.

Edward didn't say anything. He just let me wrap myself around him for a few moments. His arms linked low around my waist.

I looked back up at him, and, despite our best logical efforts to remain friendly, as my arms rose from his back to his neck, and he looked down on me and I could feel his breath on my face, we got a little romantic.