A/n: Happy Friday! I'm updating a few hours early here. Are my lovelies down under still up?

I just want to make sure that everyone knows that we are NOT near the end of this story yet! This chapter is the last "Then" chapter, but there's still plenty of "Now" left. Exactly how many chapters, I don't know, but enough. So yeah, keep reading… :)

We have two POVs in this chapter, so keep an eye open for when they switch. :)

Betad by my girl Michelle Renker Rhodes

Most characters belong to S. Meyer

Ch. 16 – How We Got to Now:

THEN:

Rose POV

20 years ago – Rose Aged Six:

When I open my eyes, it's bright outside and the birds are chirping outside my window, so I know it's okay to get up. Mummy has warned me never to get up for any reason if it's still dark. She says monsters come after naughty little girls who wake their mummies up when they're sleeping.

I tip toe quietly to Mummy's bedroom across the dark hall. As I slowly open the door, her dresser comes into view first, full of papers and empty bottles both still standing and knocked over. I open wider and her bed comes into view. She's still sleeping, I can hear her loud snores, which means she had loads of her bottles last night and won't be up for a long, long time yet. I open the door yet a bit wider and see the bloke that was here 'til late last night. He's got one arm thrown over her and is snoring even louder than Mummy – that's loud.

I make my breakfast; one of those scones my friend Bella's mum gave me to bring home yesterday, and a bowl of milk with the last bit of cereal left. I hope mummy remembers to buy me more cereal soon.

I watch the telly.

Once all my cartoons are done, I tip toe quietly to Mummy's room again: They're still sleeping.

I go to the bathroom and brush my teeth quietly, hoping Mummy wakes soon because though it looks like she may have forgotten, I haven't. Today is Saturday. Today is the day she promised me that my Daddy would be visiting. Not the man asleep in her bed right now, but my real Daddy.

He lives far away. I don't see him very much. Actually, my memories of him are starting to get kind of fuzzy because it's been a long, long time since I've seen him. But the other day, while she served me a bowl of cereal for supper, Mummy promised that my real Daddy would be coming to see me on Saturday. I remember that she said Saturday. Today is Saturday.

In my room, I put on my prettiest dress, the white one with the ruffles on the hem. I smooth down the wrinkles as best as I can because Mummy has forgotten to iron it. That's alright, I still look pretty. I brush my hair out and pin it back with a few clips.

I want to look so pretty for my Daddy so that when he sees me, he won't ever want to leave again. Maybe he'll take me home with him…

I go back and watch the telly quietly some more.

I'm not sure how much time has passed because I've fallen asleep on the sofa, waiting. I go to the kitchen to look at the clock that has real numbers on it. It says three thirty-seven.

I wonder what time my Daddy is coming.

After fixing me hair again because it got messy when I fell asleep, I watch telly for a bit longer, but I'm not quite paying much attention anymore. I can't help the way my heart starts beating quicker. I feel it in my chest: boom, boom boom, boom boom boom. Something doesn't feel quite right.

I know Mummy will be upset at me, but I tip toe to her room once more, and this time I walk in.

"Mummy," I whisper, shaking her slightly. "Mummy, what time is my Daddy coming?"

She simply continues snoring, her mouth wide open, eyes closed.

"Mummy," I shake her a bit harder, "Mummy, the clock in the kitchen says three thirty-seven. What time is my Daddy coming?" I ask louder, feeling my heart pitter patter so so quickly.

"What?" Mummy groans, sounding confused, as if she's not sure what I've just asked.

I repeat it for her.

"Mummy, what time is my Daddy coming? I'm all dressed and waiting."

"Oh, Rosalie, for God's sakes," she moans, turning over on her stomach, keeping her eyes closed. "Can't you see that I have the most horrible headache? Leave me alone!"

"But Mummy, I'm waiting for my Daddy-"

She lifts herself up on her arms and looks at me angrily. My mummy is usually pretty when she's up, but her blond hair is a mess about her head. I think she forgot to take her make-up off last night, because she's got black gook all round her eyes, and red marks on her cheeks and neck, trailing down to her boobies.

And when she looks at me this way, she doesn't seem quite so pretty.

"Rosalie! Your father's not coming! He's too busy, he says! You don't need him anyway! Now go watch telly or something and let me sleep!"

She lowers herself back down and I stand there for a few minutes, until her familiar snores start up again.

I knock on the door to the pretty, white house a few blocks away.

Ms. Renee answers. She's a teacher at the school where I just started. She's also my best friend's mummy. She's more than just pretty. She's beautiful.

"Rose, darling," she says, searching round and behind me. "Did you walk here all by yourself?"

I nod. "Can I play with Bella?"

She gives me a funny look and then smiles sweetly. I like Ms. Renee's smiles. When my mummy smiles, it's usually because she's had too many of her bottles – and then she usually falls asleep straight away.

"Of course you can, Love. Come in." She pulls me in gently by my arm, and gives me another one of her sweet smiles.

"Have you had supper yet?"

I shake my head.

She looks…angry all of a sudden, shaking her head, but then quickly smiles softly at me once more.

"Well, you'll have supper with us, then. As a matter of fact, I'll call your mum and see if you can stay over and play with Bella all weekend. How would you like that?"

I grin up at her.

She disappears into the kitchen and my friend Bella comes down the stairs. Bella doesn't look like her mummy, but she smiles the same smile as her mummy. My mummy says that I look like my Daddy, except for the blond hair. She usually cries when she says this, I don't know why.

Bella stands in front of me.

"My Daddy didn't come," I tell her. "He's too busy."

She stares at me. And then takes my hand. "Well, you and I can be sisters, and my daddy can be your daddy, and my mummy can be your mummy."

I smile at her.

OOOOOOOOOO

THEN:

BPOV: Six years ago:

Ellie is a wonderful baby.

She barely cries, merely makes these sweet lip-smacking sounds when she wakes that lets me know she's hungry. I watch her as she takes her catnaps and sometimes realize I've done nothing but gaze at her throughout her entire slumber. She tends to scrunch her face up into the most adorable expressions; in sleep, her tiny hands remain fisted across her chest. She likes to be bundled tightly and squirms and complains when her arms come free from her bundler.

I'm deep in a love so pure that it keeps me warm on some pretty sleepless nights.

OOOOOOOOOO

In July when Ellie is three months old, I take her down to the beach for the first time.

The sun is warm today, though not too much so, and Alice, my mum, Rose and I have trekked through the narrow Leigh streets with all of Ellie's gear. We fall to the sand laughing because life feels good lately. My mum lost a good husband, Alice and I lost a great dad, Rose never had a dad and her mum was a poor imitation of a parent, and I had my heart crushed in one epic weekend.

But Ellie makes us all whole again.

Alice takes the baby from me and bounces her from one leg to the other. Ellie coos happily.

"Right. Be careful there, then. She's not your personal football," I tease my little sister.

She rolls her eyes the way fourteen year olds tend to do. "I'm quite capable of holding this here baby, Bella. Besides, she loves her Aunty Alice." She holds Ellie's hands and brings her head to her eye level. "Don't you love your Aunty? Don't you?" Then she cocks her head to the side and simply gazes at her. "Blimey, she does have the most beautiful eyes, Bella."

I smile and sigh deeply. "Yes, she does."

I snap picture after picture while my mum and Alice take Ellie to the shoreline. Rose walks along with me.

"Look at the way the sun lightens her hair," Rose muses. Then she chuckles. "It makes her look ginger again."

I nod wistfully. "I saw him on the telly yesterday. They mentioned him when talking about Senator Aro Martin, his father-in-law who's announced his run for President."

"That marriage is already working in his favor."

"Yes." I continue snapping away with the camera. "I suppose it is."

We're both quiet for a while.

"You need to stop watching CNN."

I sigh. "Yes, I suppose I should."

OOOOOOOOOO

My mum grows red roses in her back garden. When I was young, she used to try to get me to tend to them with her, but I honestly found it quite boring. Now that I'm older, I can appreciate their beauty.

I'm showing them to Ellie one late October afternoon before they disappear for the winter. She's six months old now, and she giggles and reaches out for them, but I keep them at arm's length because I don't want her pricking herself on their thorns. After a while, she starts getting irritated that I won't let her grab for them and squirms all about, waving her arms and kicking up her chubby legs.

I chuckle and kiss her copper curls. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth, but Mummy doesn't want you to hurt yourself."

This explanation doesn't seem to satisfy her, and she keeps reaching out for them, beginning to whine. "Muhhmmm…muhmmmm."

Jake takes her from me and tries to distract her by pointing out the birds flying high overhead, but Ellie isn't having it; she wants the roses and kicks up a storm.

"Give her here," I say, reaching out for her once more. "I know a little girl that's ready for her nap."

Jake chuckles and hands her back to me, and when I carefully tuck her under my shirt, she stops squirming, sucking peacefully. I've become quite an expert at this nursing business.

"She's quite a kicker, that one," Jake chuckles. "Should make a great football player."

I smirk, turning with Ellie from side to side because the motion soothes her as she nurses. "That's what Rose says."

"When she gets older, I'll teach her to bounce a ball properly."

There's something about the way he says it, the confidence in his voice, as if he has a right to teach my daughter football, as if it's his job.

I'm being irrational; of course, I know I am. But it doesn't quell the irritation running through my body. I seal my lips together in a tight line to avoid saying something stupid, something hurtful, something I know I shouldn't say.

Later on that evening, after Ellie is in bed for most of the night, Jake and I sit out in the garden on the rocking seat once more, while Ellie's monitor plays a lightshow in the dark. He puts an arm around me and pulls me close.

"Are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"

I draw in a deep breath and look up at the night sky. "You're not…her father."

Jake sighs. "I know I'm not, Bella. But perhaps someday…"

I know what he's waiting for me to say, but I can't. I simply can't.

In the dark, I feel his eyes on me, his warm breath against my cheek, but all it does is make me remember...

"You know how I feel about you, Bella. You know how I feel about Ellie. I want a future with you, with both of you."

I shut my eyes tight and wish I could make myself feel it back because Jake is such a good bloke. He's been with me through everything: through the highs and the lows of the last year. He loves Ellie, he really does. He loves me. He would be a good…father.

But I can't do this to him anymore. He has hopes, as my mum told me once months ago, as he's confessing right now. I'd thought that perhaps someday I could fulfill those hopes…make us a family...give Ellie the father she deserves...

Slowly, I pull away from him. "Jake…you're a great bloke..."

"That's never a good way to start a sentence," he chuckles humorlessly.

I chuckle back, just as devoid of amusement. "I can't, Jake." I turn and hold his gaze. In the dark, his black eyes shine like jewels. He's a beautiful man - outside and in.

But he's not the man that still haunts my dreams: the one with the crooked grin, the tender hands, the never-ending kisses, the one with Ellie's eyes – and it's not fair to Jake.

"I wish I could because you're so good to my daughter and I."

"Perhaps in time, Bella, you'll come to feel the same."

The selfish part of me, the one who appreciates the attention he gives me, the comfort I feel around him, the assurance that his feelings are genuine, wants to agree. Perhaps in time…perhaps if we just give it a little more time…

I shake my head. "Jake, I just don't have it in me to feel what you want me to feel, what you deserve for me to feel. I can't trust the way you deserve to be trusted. I can't love the way you deserve to be loved. I'm sorry," I whisper. "I'm so sorry."

OOOOOOOOOO

I stand outside the auditorium at the University of Essex's Southend campus, where after four and a half years of university, I've just earned my degree. Perhaps it's not from the school at which I'd started, but it's a good degree nonetheless.

Ellie is in my arms, holding my diploma and rolling and unrolling it curiously while my mum snaps picture after picture of the both of us, her cheeks red with excitement and so much pride it makes my chest ache. I miss my dad today.

It took me a bit longer than I'd planned because of Ellie's birth and the time I took off straight afterwards, but I've made it. Evening classes, weekend classes, jumbling a daughter along with crazy schedules and part-time jobs, but with everyone's help, I've kept my promise to Charlie Swan.

My mum walks over to me, beaming and hugs me tight again; she's done it at least a dozen times since the ceremony ended.

"I'm so proud of you! Ellie, aren't you proud of your mum?"

"So proud of you, Mummy! May I try on your hat?"

"Of course you may," I murmur, gazing into her beautiful green eyes as I place my cap atop her copper mane. "There, now you've graduated too."

She bounces in my arms. "Yay! I graduated with my mummy!"

My mum and I both laugh, while Alice rolls her eyes and takes her from me. "Ellie, Love, you're only three. You can't graduate from anything just yet." Then she looks up. "But with your adorable little self, you can help me get the attention of that bloke over there." She grabs Ellie's hand tightly and walks away with her, towards some tall guy smiling her way.

"Alice, don't go using my daughter as bait!" I call out, shaking my head, but I know Alice is fiercely protective of her niece. She'll hold on tight to her and be careful.

My mum chuckles and wraps her arm round mine as we watch them walk on. All eyes turn to Ellie as she walks by in her lavender dress; she loves wearing dresses. She's breathtakingly beautiful, and I don't believe it merely because she's my daughter. With big, emerald eyes, the face of an angel, long bronze spiral curls, peachy cream skin, tall and despite her age, graceful she's an awe-inspiring creature.

She's her father through and through.

I see it physically, but also in the small things that I managed to learn about him, to pick up on during our short weekend together. Even at three and a half, she has a confidence about her: a tall, sure way of walking, her eyes always reflect her feelings. She sometimes has a way of lifting up only half of her mouth when she smiles.

But it's more than just that. Everyone who meets her is instantly captivated. She's inherited his charisma, his charm.

"Well, Darling," my mum says, breaking me out of my reverie. "You've done it, and quite quickly despite everything."

"I did it, Mum," I agree quietly. "Now, I just need to find a real job."

"The Leighway appreciates your work."

"Yes, Mum, but it's a very small newsletter, and the pay is horrid. I need to find something better now, so I can give Ellie the future she deserves."

My mum looks at me quietly. "Bella, Darling, just don't ever forget that there's more to a successful life than greatness."

I can't help snorting.

If his plans have proceeded the way he once told me – and from the snippets of his life that I've caught here and there, I'm quite sure they have - he's probably done with law school by now, probably on his way to becoming Congressman.

"Trust me, Mum, I know that."

OOOOOOOOOO

We're at the May Day celebrations in Old Leigh watching Alice being crowned May Queen. She looks like a beautiful, dark fairy with the crown of white flowers round her black, pixie hair.

"Mummy, may I be May Queen next year? That crown is so beautiful!"

"You're too young to be May Queen, Ellie," Rose teases her.

"But I'm four now," she frowns, holding up four fingers, "I'm a big girl."

"Yes, my Love," I beam down at her. "You're a very big girl."

"I'll make you a crown like that later on, Ellie," Rose promises her.

"But where will you get the flowers, Aunty Rose?"

"From your nanny's back yard."

"Only if you want Mum to kill you," I say.

Ellie and Rose both laugh.

"So anyway, as I was saying," Rose continues - she's been telling me about the latest misadventures between herself and her boyfriend Royce, a man I personally cannot stand, but it's her choice, her life, so I keep most of my thoughts on Royce to myself - "He's got the bollocks to ask me if I liked it like that. What do I look like?" I asked him. "A masochist?"

I'm trying to shush her throughout the entire last two sentences, shaking my head, but she's just not getting it.

"Mummy, what's bollocks?"

I roll my eyes.

Rose chuckles heartily. "Sorry."

"Never mind Aunty Rose and her silly words. You'd think being a teacher she'd know better," I mutter, glaring Rose's way. She simply chuckles once more. "Look, the maypole dancing has started! Let's go join in!" I say excitedly to distract my ever curious daughter.

She claps her hands anxiously. "Yes, Mummy! Let's go!"

I chuckle and take her small hand in mine, leading her towards the colorful long ribbons wrapped around the metal pole.

Later on, Rose and I are sitting on a bench in the town centre, watching Ellie, who's a few feet away with Alice gazing at the Morris dancers with their bell pads and handkerchiefs doing their intricate steps.

"He's getting a divorce. They were talking about it on CNN yesterday."

Rose is silent for a while. "You really should stop watching CNN."

"I've got a career in the business world, Rose. I can't exactly stop watching CNN."

She rolls her eyes. "Why you took that job in London, I still don't understand."

"It's a great job with fantastic opportunities for growth and advancement. I've already been promoted once, and my boss continues to increase my responsibilities. I think he might be preparing me for another advancement."

"It's a great job, but it's not you, Bella. It's not what you've always wanted to do, which is to simply write."

I sigh. "I've got a child, Rose. I can't hold off for the perfect job. Besides, the pay is brilliant."

She purses her lips and stares away.

"Perhaps I should try contacting him again."

Rose draws in a deep breath of air and exhales lowly, keeping her eyes on the dancers. "For what, Bella?"

"To tell him about Ellie."

She presses her lips together the way she tends to when she's trying to think through her words.

"Bella, have you forgotten how he used you?"

"No, but-"

"What do you think he would do if he ever found out about Elizabeth? What did his father threaten you with the first time you tried to get in touch with him? They'd accuse you of lying, of making everything up; they'd say Ellie wasn't his child and demand DNA work and then probably claim those were forged too. They'd drag you through the mud and make you and Ellie's lives a living nightmare until you decided to wave the white flag just to get them off your back. Bella, Edward Cullen doesn't want a daughter, he wants the White House."

"Perhaps I should let him make that choice."

"Bella," she says, turning her eyes my way, her voice sterner now, "he made that choice already. When he promised you the world and then took it all back after one phone call, he made his choice. When he married the President's daughter just nine months after everything he'd said to you, he proved what his priorities are."

I look down at my lap, thinking…wanting the best for my daughter…wishing I could give her a father…her father.

Rose huffs, reading the indecision in my face. "Fine, let's suppose you did tell him about Ellie and let's suppose for argument's sake that he did wish to see her - out of curiosity, on a simple whim. Let's suppose he spent a few days with her, smiled at her, made her laugh. Let's even suppose he does care about her as much as a man like him can actually care for someone. Then Daddy Cullen calls and reminds him that if it ever gets out that he fathered a child while engaged to the President's daughter all his political aspirations are over. Who do you think he'd pick?"

I can't answer her.

"Do you want to take that chance?" she pushes. "Do you want to risk him breaking Ellie's heart?"

I look up and gaze at my daughter. She's laughing with Alice, dancing and twirling around while her green eyes sparkle with the type of happiness only an innocent child can possess – a child who's never had her heart broken by a daddy she doesn't even know is missing.

"Bella…"

The tone of Rose's voice brings my attention back to her quickly. She's biting her lip, looking strangely...apprehensive.

She closes her eyes and exhales heavily before opening them up again. "Bella, you know that I only tell you these things because you're my sister and I love you, and I love that little munchkin dancing over there. You and your family, you're my only family. I'd do anything to protect you guys, you know that, right?"

I smile softly back at her. "Yes, Rose. I know that."

OOOOOOOOOO

The doctor slowly walks back towards my mum, Rose, Alice and I. His expression is as blank as doctors' expressions tend to be. I hate those serene masks. I want to reach out and shake him; force him to give me some kind of reaction.

"The blood work came back. Everything is within normal range. As I suspected, it's simply quite a nasty virus, Ms. Swan, and Ellie will be fine once the fever breaks."

"Oh, thank God," my mom breathes.

I close my eyes and let out the breath I've been holding since last night, when Ellie's weekend fever spiked up to one hundred and four, when she looked up at the ceiling, eyes glazed over, and started giggling hysterically, as if she was seeing something - and then called out "Daddy" of all things.

"And the hallucinations?" I ask.

"They're not uncommon at all in young children with high fevers. The nurse tells me she took her temperature again just a few minutes ago, and it was down to one hundred and one?"

"Yes, Doctor," I confirm.

"That's a good sign," he smiles.

"Why has she been sleeping for so long, then?" I continue inquiring, still unable to feel completely relieved.

"She's exhausted, Ms. Swan. The high fever has drained her energy, but you'll see, as soon as the fever drops even lower, she'll be up and about again. We'll keep her overnight just to make sure, but I suspect the fever will just continue falling from here on in."

"Thank you, Doctor." My voice shakes. Terror still runs rampant throughout my entire system. I won't be able to breathe, to let go of the tension in every muscle until I see those bright green eyes sparkling up at me again.

Ellie does wake - about an hour and a half later. And though her face is still flushed, true to the doctor's word she seems to have recovered the energy that her little body had been lacking all weekend. The nurse comes in and takes her temperature yet again: Ninety-nine point two.

Ellie is extremely talkative and sings happily along with the Disney Channel, which plays on her hospital telly. More than once, my mum has to ask her to stop playing with the lever that raises and lowers her hospital bed, to lower the volume on the telly, to lower her voice - because I can't. She can tear down this entire god damn hospital right now and I wouldn't stop her. She's awake, she looks better, she's laughing, and she's acting like a normal, energetic five year-old.

I can breathe once more.

Ellie drains her water pitcher, so I go fetch more water for her. When I arrive at the water cooler, it's empty, so I take a walk to the nurses' station to ask them to refill it.

"He's a bloody handsome bloke, he is. I tell you, I wouldn't mind giving him a go!"

The nurses all laugh. They're gathered around The Sun, some sitting, some standing, leering at the tabloid with lusty grins on their faces.

"Excuse me…"

They're all too involved with whatever is in the middle of that bloody tabloid to hear me.

"Do you think it's true that he appears at every government function with a different girl? I would think it would mess with his reputation, wouldn't it?"

"You know how those Americans are. As long as he knows his politics, they'll forgive anything. Besides, with a face and body like that, who cares what his politics are!"

More rounds of loud laughter.

"Uhm…excuse me, but the water cooler needs another refill."

One of them finally looks up. "Oh, sorry, Love." She grins. "We were just having a bit of fun here with this delicious piece of man." She turns the paper over.

There is Edward, grinning widely, wearing a tux. The caption mentions something about some sort of function this past weekend. He's got a beautiful and quite busty blonde hanging from his arm.

"Isn't he the most perfect specimen of a man you've ever seen?" the nurse questions with a rather randy expression on her face.

I stare at the picture, remembering what he looked like moving over me, his perfect body chiseled as stone, muscles flexing with every thrust; his flawless face in rapt concentration, green eyes shining, delicious breaths washing over me, soft, copper hair wet with sweat, velvet voice rough and commanding.

Yes, he was physically perfect.

And while he was busy shagging his busty blond this weekend, my daughter's fever was soaring, making her hallucinate about a man who doesn't exist.

"Oh yes," I snort. "He's a bloody perfect-looking bloke. Now while the lot of you sit here drooling over some git who's probably a bleeding arsehole in person, my daughter is thirsty, so can we please have that cooler refilled?"

I turn and walk away.

OOOOOOOOOO

We're preparing the house for Ellie's sixth birthday. Some of the neighborhood children are coming over including the twin six-year old girls next door with whom Ellie likes to play. She is excited beyond belief.

"Mummy, Mummy!" she cries, running down from her bedroom with my mum, who's just helped her change into the dress she's picked out for today. It's the latest dress I've bought her from Harrods: soft pink, ballerina-style, fashioned with thin straps and a full skirt of floaty, layered tulle. A soft bow and detachable flowers adorn the waist. She looks like an angel.

"I'm all ready for my birthday, Mummy!" she exclaims with a crooked grin when I pick her up in my arms. It's getting harder to do so, but I'll carry her until she's fifty if she'll let me.

"You are? Well, you'll have to wait just a little longer, my love. Everyone should be arriving in about an hour."

She pouts her soft, full pink lips. "But it's so hard to wait, Mummy. I'm not very patient, you know."

She makes me laugh out loud. "I've noticed, Ellie." I can't help tapping those pouty lips. "How about you help mummy with all these balloons, then?"

"Okay," she shrugs happily.

As we finish our decorating, the telly drones on in the background. Alice flips the channel while she takes a break.

"…the young congressman from New York State was spotted in the City with a young lady sources say may be his new girlfriend, though when the media caught up to him at a job fair he attended in Brooklyn and asked him about her, he was pretty tight-lipped. With a pleasant grin he turned the conversation to the need for more job opportunities in the state, as well as the entire country. Congressman Edward Cullen's popularity continues to skyrocket since elected to the House, and sources tell us they wouldn't be surprised if President Martin's ex-son-in-law made a bid for the White House sometime in the…"

"Alice, do us a favor and turn off the telly," I hiss through clenched teeth.

She shuts it off straight away.

OOOOOOOOOO

I get off the tube at Liverpool Street Station and make my way through the busy streets of London's business district, as I do almost every weekday morning. When I arrive at 30 St. Mary Axe, I raise my head to the clouded sky before walking in; the strange, round shape of the office building always makes me smile. I suppose that's why it's nicknamed "The Gherkin."

My day begins as usual: meetings, conference calls, reviewing proposals and prospectuses. During my second conference of the day, we're in the glassed-in conference room – the one that overlooks the London's Eye Ferris wheel – and I'm distributing assignments when I hear whistling from just beyond. Two seconds later, Michael pops his head in.

"Isabella," he grins.

"Good afternoon, Michael," I grin back.

"Can you meet me in your office when you're done here?"

"Of course."

As I walk back to my office once the conference is over, I wonder why Michael is here, and why he didn't tell me he was coming. Last I spoke to him a couple of days ago, he was in the U.S. in the middle of some new business dealing he wasn't quite prepared to speak about yet.

I wonder how that went.

Michael is my boss, the owner of the entire corporation – which is based in the U.S.

He's also my friend and occasional lover.

It's a comfortable relationship – one in which I know exactly where I stand. I'm respected for my mind, desired for my body and never have to wonder whether it's anything more or less than that. Michael's eyes are a clear, bright blue; free of non-expression and free of too much expression. He doesn't pretend to feel more than he does; he doesn't ask me for more than I can give.

OOOOOOOOOO

A couple of years ago, I was standing outside the Gherkin, staring up at it the way I usually do before walking in, when he appeared at my side and simply stood there gazing up with me.

"Interesting building," he said.

"Yes, it is."

"I own it."

I snorted. "Good for you." And then walked in.

We had lunch. He asked me about my responsibilities in the office, picked my brain for a while. The next day when I arrived at work, he'd left a prospectus on my desk with the request that I prepare a full proposal with recommendations for it by the next morning.

After that, my responsibilities changed, increased, and the harder I worked the more work he gave me – the more I advanced. No, it wasn't my dream job, and Michael made me work hard for everything I earned.

But it was a great job with great opportunities and besides, I'd learned a long time ago that believing in dreams and pretty words got you nowhere.

One night, he took me out for a nice dinner, and afterwards we went back to his place for a couple of hours…

OOOOOOOOOO

I walk into my office and Michael is there waiting, gazing out of the windows into the London skyline and whistling to himself; he's always whistling to himself. He turns about and grins, looking brilliantly striking with perfectly slicked back blond hair, expensive dark suit, and bright orange tie – he has a thing for whimsical ties. He walks over and kisses my cheek. Michael is ever-respectful, and I appreciate that about him.

"I wasn't expecting you back in London quite yet."

"I'm glad I was able to surprise you," he grins, blue eyes laughing. "Take a seat, Isabella. I have a business proposition for you."

Michael doesn't beat about the bush. I walk over to my desk and take a seat behind it, smiling as I wait.

"I've just bought ERA Magazine, the entire unit."

I raise a brow. "The European unit here in London too?"

"Yes."

"Congratulations," I grin.

"Thank you. I want you to head up the reorganizations both here and in the U.S."

"What?"

"I know it involves traveling and you're uncomfortable with flying, but there's no better time than the present to get over that."

My heart pounds in my chest.

Ellie. I can't leave her.

Michael doesn't know about her. Not because she's a secret, but because he's never asked, and regardless, I don't want to share her with him. I come to London every day to do my job, to discuss mergers and acquisitions with my co-workers. Nothing more.

"Michael, I appreciate the opportunity, but-"

"Isabella, this is not a request. Please don't try to tell me no, because I don't have time for it. I've got a busy couple of months ahead of me. Our advertising unit needs a new head, I'm still postponing that trip to China until I can secure a meeting with the head of Red Sun Incorporated, I've got to appear in D.C. in the next couple of months to lobby for the environmental unit-"

"D.C.?"

"Washington, D.C. The young congressman from New York State heads up the Environmental Committee, and I'll be lobbying for-"

"Michael…Michael, what exactly would this detail to the U.S. entail?"

He explains to me what he expects from the reorganization of ERA's New York City-based headquarters.

I bite my lip, thinking…

"How long would you expect this U.S. detail to last?"

He shrugs. "That would be up to you, Isabella, up to how quickly you can whip the publication into shape."

I nod slowly. "And the London office too, correct? Which means I'd have to travel back and forth weekly."

He eyes me carefully. "Again, Isabella, I'll leave those details to you. I'm fully confident in the fact that you can take care of this for me. How you do it is your prerogative."

I try to control my breathing, the way my heart races in my chest.

The U.S.

New York.

Edward.

Once, I was a naïve, stupid girl, who knew nothing of real life, of politics, of what really made the world go round. He lied to me, made me believe he wanted a real relationship when all he wanted was to play.

Which is fine, I won't blame him for my stupidity. Years have gone by, and I've thought through all the details. Stupid me to believe a man, a soldier on leave no less, could fall in love with me over one weekend. Even stupider that when I found out who he really was – that he had a political legacy resting on his shoulders – I still believed his sweet words.

But all that could have been forgiven - if not completely forgotten - if it wasn't for the fact that I have a daughter now who will never have a father because his legacy was more important than absolutely anything else. I guess to some, the trade may make sense: a child for an entire country, but it doesn't make sense to me. Not when I have to look at her every day and know on what she'll miss out because I had such a wonderful father - and I know Ellie will never experience that.

I've watched his career unfold. He's running for U.S. Senate now. Everything is going according to plan – absolutely no repercussions for the life he created that he'd never take responsibility for.

Once, I was a naïve, stupid girl and bowed down to threats from his father, but as I watch Edward's ascent from afar, one thing has become quite clear.

The Cullens would never create a scandal. If I ever went to Edward with news about him being a father, he'd beg me to keep it to myself and then resign just to avoid the taint to the family name – to the Cullen Legacy, to the future children he will someday bear to carry it on for him.

Ellie has no father. Why should Edward have his legacy?

A/N: Thoughts?

That was the last of the "Then" chapters. We'll be completely in the present from here on in.

Twitter: PattyRosa817

Link to 'Stories by Pattyrose' is on my profile page.