Thanks to my beta, Saluki168 - love her dearly.

There is one case of non PG-13 profanity in this chapter - I hope I do not offend! Things are going to be okay, hang in there. Thank you for reading, reviewing and adding Living Through It to your favorites! I was nominated for the Most Tears Glove Award - If you want to vote for me, you can do so here: .

Chapter 20

The days between Edward's visits dragged, and with each day that passed, I found myself hoping for an opening to put our friendship back on track. I thought about texting him a simple "I'm sorry," several times, but that was just chicken shit behavior. He deserved more than that and I had to own up like a big girl. For the next two weeks, things were the new status quo; Edward would come, care exceptionally for Charlie, and then leave having spoken only a few words to me.

I was quickly approaching my wits end when I finally broke down and called Alice to talk about it.

"B!" she exclaimed, after picking up before the first ring had finished. "It feels like it's been ages."

"It's been a couple of weeks; I think."

"Uh oh. What's wrong?" Alice asked; nothing got by her, she knew me too well.

"It's, well...it's Edward." I was so reluctant to get into it with anyone, but if there was anyone I was going to talk to about it, it was her.

"Is he being a jerk?"

"No, actually, I'm the jerk."

"No way, I don't believe you. Tell me, start from the beginning." I pictured her sitting on her couch, legs crossed and tucked underneath her.

I went over it all; our amazing non-date and Edward's touchy-feeliness with me, my misinterpretation of the signs I was sure he was giving. I described in detail how he had changed his behavior towards me since our falling out. She listened, not letting out a single peep, which I knew was no small feat for my bestie.

After a few moments of uncharacteristic silence, she gave me her assessment.

"You want the truth raw and uncensored, right?"

"Yes." I braced myself for impact.

"That's my girl. First, I agree, you kind of owe him an apology because he is trying to look out for your best interests here. I mean, how many guys wouldn't take advantage of your emotional state and try to get you into bed at the first opportunity?"

I laughed. "I'm not exactly a man magnet, A."

Disregarding my self-loathing she replied, "Shut up, my turn to talk. Anyway, on the other hand his hand holding and ear whispering thing is a total mind fuck, if you'll excuse my language. He can't be doing those things and expect you not to have an emotional response. I mean, obviously the guy likes you."

"Correction, he did like me."

"I'm sure he still does. A fight doesn't just evaporate those kinds of feelings. Of course, he probably felt the only thing he could do was pull back."

"But it's like we aren't even friends anymore, he's just...a nurse."

"And if he didn't care, he probably wouldn't even be that if things really are as bad you're implying."

"Do you think I should apologize?"

She was quiet again for a moment before answering. "Actually, I think you should wait it out. Let things go for awhile. Sometimes these things work themselves out just by giving them time. Don't force it."

I decided to take her advice. As I had recently learned, forcing things didn't usually work out.

We talked awhile longer; she had an approaching deadline and was excited about the designs she had produced. Jasper had taken on three pupils, two were learning guitar and one piano. They were both so busy they had yet to set a wedding date, but she assured me I would be the first to know, even over her mother. Of course she was trying to contemplate the fashion side of things. On one hand, a winter wedding would afford her the opportunity to accessorize in innovative ways. On the other hand, she liked the idea of the warm weather of the summer months allowing for a more whimsical style. With Alice you never knew where her creativity would take her; I couldn't wait to find out.

Although nothing was resolved with Edward by our conversation, I felt better about the situation with him. Alice's outside perspective was just what I needed to hear. Relief washed over me and I decided to be open minded about where things with Edward stood. It was better than the defeatist attitude I had clung to since our fight. Mixed messages and friendly advice aside, I still felt as though I owed him an apology.

Charlie had adjusted to the feeding tube with ease, and he had noticeably filled out a little more. There was a fresh cause for concern, however. Edward had been by on Wednesday and Charlie had been fine, but the following day he started coughing, and it wasn't at all dry sounding. Nothing was coming up, but his congestion was evident. Edward couldn't come by on Saturday, but things with Charlie had been fine when he left on Wednesday. I was anxious for Edward's Monday visit and had a hard time falling asleep on Sunday evening. I was sleeping lightly and was in and out of semi-consciousness all night. I must have drifted into a deeper sleep sometime in the early morning hours because the next thing I knew I was rudely awakened by a pendulum swinging back and forth inside my skull. Charlie's voice was a faint whisper in the background, drowned out by the head crushing pressure.

I knew what was happening; I had a migraine. I had been plagued with them during my teenage years, but they had thankfully made fewer appearances since I had entered my twenties. This one was especially brutal. I forced my eyes open only to have the pain increase as I was assaulted by the filtered sunlight that trickled in through the window. I was immediately struck with the added offense of nausea; it crept up from my stomach and into my chest – illness threatening- but Charlie was calling, so I had to tough it out. I kept my eyes closed to avoid the light and stood on shaky legs. As soon as I did, the invisible anchor weighing down my head forced me back to the bed. I didn't have the strength to get back up. Opening a single eye, I peeked at my clock, it was flashing "8:30", or was it flashing?

Edward please get here.

The sound of my father's helpless voice coming through the monitor added insult to injury; I yearned to get to him but I couldn't. I was a prisoner to the pain. My hands felt weak and tingly and I began to shake, tremors coming from the inside out, my bones rattled in the soft armor of my skin. Charlie finally stopped calling for me after what seemed like a century but in reality had only been three minutes.

At five minutes to eight there was a knock at the front door, and though the sound was faint at most, my head responded with persistent throbbing. Light, sound, and heat were all added offenders in the attack of the migraine. I wanted to lie on the cool linoleum of the bathroom floor, although I shivered and pulled the covers tighter. I longed for the cover of night to save me from the piercing light of the sun. Where was the cloudy weather today?

A sweet second of relief passed over me when I heard the front door open, followed by Edward's voice through the monitor a short few seconds later.

"Charlie, where's Bella?" he asked. His first question had been about me.

Charlie answered him in a raspy, unrecognizable voice, "I think something's wrong. I've been calling her for twenty minutes. I don't think my bladder can hold much longer."

"Alright, let's get you up and then I'll go check on her. Maybe she inadvertently switched off the monitor and overslept."

Did I detect a hint of concern in his voice or was my headache laden mind playing tricks on me?

I heard some shuffling around as Edward helped Charlie out of bed. After about ten minutes, my dad's congested, nasal voice broke through.

"Go check on her, please." Tears began to fall at the desperation in his voice; I couldn't stand that I had him worried.

"Just a sec," Edward said. "Let me listen to your heart and lungs first." There was urgency in his tone, but I had no way of deciphering if it was due to me or Charlie.

Another agonizing five minutes expired before I heard soft foot falls up the stairs. There was a feather-light knock at the door.

"Bella? Bella, are you in there?"

"Yes." My voice came out feeling and sounding feeble.

He opened the door but I couldn't open my eyes.

"Bella?" And then more frantic, "Bella!"

"So loud." I was in too much distress to resist the help he was about to offer.

"Sorry," he said softly. "What's wrong?" I felt the heat of his body as he drew closer and knelt at my bedside.

"Migraine." I only had the strength for one word replies.

"Hang on," he said, before I felt the nearness of him disappear. I heard him leave the room followed by the sound of running water. Moments later he was pressing a cool wash cloth to my thundering head.

"That feels good." I could feel his weight on the edge of the bed; he was sitting next to me.

"I didn't know you got migraines," he commented, his voice as soft as cotton.

"It's been a while." Responding was a struggle.

"Do you take anything for them?"

I shook my head "no," the pendulum swung back and forth, battering my head from the inside out.

"Just ibuprofen...I couldn't get to the medicine cabinet."

I felt the edge of the bed spring back and knew he was going to get me what I needed. He was back in a flash with aspirin and a glass of water .

"Can you sit up?" he asked. The warmth of previous days had returned to his voice; his concern made my heart sing.

"I don't know." My voice was a ghost of its usual self.

Then I felt his arms underneath me, urging me upward into a sitting position. I finally opened my eyes and found myself looking directly into Edward's concerned eyes. For the first time in three weeks they didn't dart away.

While supporting me with one arm, he handed me the pills and once they were in my mouth, the glass of water. I choked them down. After I swallowed, words that had been begging to be said finally found their escape.

"Edward, I'm sorry."

"Shhhh, just lie down." He eased me back down to the bed. "Just rest."

There were a few moments of silence but he hadn't left me.

"Listen to me, okay?" he started. "I need to take Charlie in; his lungs don't sound well." I could hear the conflict in his voice; he didn't want to cause me any further duress.

I tried to sit up, but that imaginary anchor kept me weighted to my bed.

"I have to go."

"No. You're in no shape. Trust me, Bella. Please, just trust me."

I wanted to insist but he was right, I was in no condition, unless I was admitted to the hospital myself. I reluctantly nodded my agreement.

"As soon as I can, I'll be back to check on you." He pushed the damp hair back from my face in a way I imagined a mother would do with her sick child, so tender, so caring – not that I knew what a mother would do.

"My dad..." I trailed off.

"Just precautionary." It made my heart thud in time with my head that he understood what I was wondering.

"Thanks, Edward."

"You're welcome."

The icy rift between us had finally cracked. He left the room and I was alone with my thoughts.

He was still Edward. Every tiny ounce of the person I had fallen for unwillingly and with unrelenting fervor. Everything he did was with understated compassion, and he had only reaffirmed that he was keeping his commitment to remain at our side for the duration. The sting of the words I had hurled at him weeks earlier reemerged in my gut, my heart, my brain. I didn't feel like I had the right words to sooth my destructive outburst. I wondered if we could truly be friends again. Since I had destroyed our previous bonds all I could think about was how I took them for granted when I tried to press the relationship further. When you forced things sometimes you broke them irrevocably and I might have done that with Edward. If only I could take that afternoon back, we might have found ourselves in a very different place. I ached to give my love to someone. No. Not someone, Edward. His compassionate care in that moment had restored my hope, or at least some of it.

I wasn't kidding myself; I knew things weren't going to go back to how they were, but as I laid there waiting for the ibuprofen to take effect, I couldn't help but think that somehow the headache was God's way of intervening. Sometimes prayers are answered in ways you'd never imagine.

Despite my wandering thoughts, I drifted to sleep as the pain relief started to kick in. Migraines were life sucking, draining and I must have been more exhausted than I realized because when I woke back up, it was four hours later and I wasn't alone.

The drumming continued in my head, but it wasn't the unbearable pressure of earlier in the day. Edward was sitting in my desk chair.

"Hey sleepyhead, feeling better?" His playful sincerity increased my mountain of remorse.

"A little. How's my dad?"

"They admitted him; he has a mild case of pneumonia." He placed great emphasis on the word "mild."

"Oh no – I need to got to him." I pulled the covers back and started sit up.

Edward placed his hands on my shoulders and gently pushed me back down. "Nope. Charlie wants you to stay home and rest. He's in good hands. Besides you know that migraines can come back with a vengeance if you don't allow yourself a full recovery." Even if I wanted to force the issue, he could definitely could physically restrain me, I was weak. He returned to sit in the chair.

"Who put you in charge?" I said, trying to keep my tone even keeled.

"Charlie did. You can call him and verify that order. He's my boss after all." Edward chuckled. "He'll just be there overnight. We can go get him tomorrow, and I'll even swing back by the hospital on my way home tonight."

"It's not on your way home," I replied.

"Well, you know what I mean." His dedication floored me again and again.

And then it was stagnant, uneasy again. I decided to pry open the window that had recently appeared in the wall.

"Edward, are we going to be okay?" I asked.

I didn't miss the heavy sigh that escaped him.

"Bella," he hesitated. "We're okay, alright? I should be apologizing to you. I know I've been cold and I know I probably screwed everything up, but we need to keep this on a professional level from here on out. Now more than ever, Charlie needs our assistance and in order to give him the best care, I need to be focused on him, no distractions."

I had so much I wanted to say in that moment, queries, thoughts and expression of love, but this was my chance to suck it up and prove to him that his words had not been lost on me.

"I understand and I really, truly regret what I instigated a few weeks ago. Thanks for not losing sight of what you're here for. Now, come here. I'm not trying to confuse things but please, come here."

He stood up and came over to the bed; I sat up as he sat down. Before he had a chance to stop me, I threw my arms around his neck and managed the strength to hold him to me. A rush of tearful bliss consumed me when he wrapped his long arms around me and squeezed back. It was better than the comfort of a childhood blanket or a heart warming story; he was a haven in the midst of all my uncertainty, and I would never take that for granted again.

As promised, Charlie was discharged the following day, sent home with a prescription for Cipro, and orders for less liquid meals. As it turned out, the liquid nutrients that were sustaining him were also the culprit behind the pneumonia. With his feeding regiment scaled back, he should make a quick recovery. My headache was gone but I felt like a shell of myself, utterly wiped. The day following a migraine I always craved greasy, nutrient bare food. Edward was gracious enough to run to the diner and grab lunch for us while I got Charlie settled in at home. I didn't have an ounce of eater's remorse after consuming my fried chicken sandwich and French fries, which I washed down with a vanilla milkshake. Charlie had some soul-warming chicken noodle, while Edward chomped down a BLTA.

We were a unit again, the three of us. I wanted to revert back to how it had been before our disagreement, but I knew that baby steps would be the safest way to reach our former level of companionship. For the moment I was satisfied with my dad's homecoming, greasy food, and Edward's presence. I look back on moments like that with the fondest recollection. Of course, things wouldn't always be that way.

Unfortunately the memories that stand out the most are the times when your train is derailed. And boy, was my train about to go off track.

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