Chapter 25:

A/N: Hello friends! I am alive! First and foremost, I truly, truly apologize for not updating in 6 months. It's a completely shitty thing, and trust me, having been left hanging with some of my favorite stories, I know that it's not a good feeling. Thank you for all the messages and comments, asking for me to continue the story. I never intended to stop writing for so long, but it was nice to see so many people invested in my story.

Ok…so a little explanation for why it's taken me so long to update. I think my last update was right before we moved into our new house. After finally unpacking and decorating, I thought I was finally ready to write. Then my husband and I went on vacation for our one-year anniversary. When I came back, I thought I was finally ready to write. THEN, I found out I'm pregnant! So needless to say, my life has been pretty eventful these past few months.

I'm due in March, so I'm really hoping I can finish this story before then because I'm not sure I'll have any free time on my hands for awhile after that. But I also don't want to make false promises. I'd love to say that I'll update every two weeks or once a month from now on. But I just don't know. I promise to keep writing whenever I can. (Trust me, the reason this chapter is so long is because I was literally writing in chunks over the past 6 months.)

As always, a shout-out to my beta, Coleen561. She's another person I missed bouncing ideas back and forth with over these past few months. Hopefully you're not disappointed with the chapter after waiting so long!

Will I ever get to where I'm going?

If I do, will I know when I am there?

- Incubus

Day 1

Bella's POV:

"Isabella! What do you have to say about Edward's overdose?"

"Can you give us any updates?"

"What did you two talk about when you visited at the hospital?"

"Are you two back together?"

"Why did he overdose, Isabella?"

Silently, I pushed my wa through the crowd of reporters who were stationed outside the front door of my apartment building. I hadn't been able to sleep after leaving the hospital, and after a six hour plane ride back to New York, I was seconds away from reaching my boiling point if one of these reporters didn't move out of my way.

A female reporter all but blocked my way, standing in front of the doorman, who was trying to grab the door for me. I, not-so-innocently, slammed my shoulder into her, causing her to stumble backwards, and giving me enough space to get into the lobby and away from the frenzy that was now locked outside. I had already planned to hole myself up in my loft for the next few days; the circus that awaited me as soon as I exited the building only solidified that plan.

As I rounded the corner to the elevators, a figure sitting in one of the chairs stood up. A small cry escaped my mouth, seeing who it was, and I ran forward, throwing my arms around him.

"Jake!"

He pulled me into the hug. "I would have waited outside for you, but…"

"Say no more," I groaned. I grabbed his hand and pulled him into the first available elevator, taking one last glance around the lobby. "C'mon, let's get upstairs. Who knows who else is lingering around here?"

The elevator doors closed, and I fell back against the wall, resting the back of my head on the cool mirror, and closed my eyes.

"How are you managing?" Jacob asked.

"I didn't think I was managing," I responded, not bothering to open my eyes.

The elevator bell rang, informing me that we had reached my floor. When I opened my eyes, I saw that Jake had picked up my bag and was waiting to follow me to my loft. Once we were in my apartment, I silently took my bag and made my way to the bedroom. Throwing my travel bag onto the bed, I went into the bathroom and spent a few minutes washing my face. Re-entering the living room, I found Jacob, still standing and waiting for me. A deep frown crossed his face, which I ignored.

"So, I should have two episodes of Bridezillas saved on the DVR," I said nonchalantly, making my way into the kitchen. I opened up the refrigerator and looked around. "Beer or wine?"

Jacob walked up behind me and placed his hand on top of mine, pushing the refrigerator door closed. I kept my head down and closed my eyes, not bothering to turn around and face him.

"Isabella…talk to me…what happened?"

My thoughts spun out of control to everything that had happened in the past 24 hours: the premiere, the overdose, being with Alice, hearing Emmett's harsh words, seeing Edward so weak and fragile. I stayed up, chain smoking and pacing, in my hotel room that night, trying to make sense of everything. My thoughts continued to whirl the entire flight back to New York. And still I had no answers. I was still as lost as I was sitting next to Edward in the hospital. What could I do?

Jacob spun me around so that I was eye-level with him. "Don't shut me out."

I shook my head and sighed. "It was a mistake to go there."

I walked past him and sat on the couch, placing my head in my hands and closed my eyes. I felt the cushion shift next to me.

"Did he say anything to you?"

I shook my head, sat back, and sighed. Then I rehashed the entire scene starting with Jacob's phone call and ending with Carlisle's last words to me at the hospital. Jacob sat and listened intently. He barely reacted while I told my story, except for a few muttered curses when I got to the part about Emmett telling me to leave. When I was finally done with the whole ordeal, I stood up and got some water, suddenly feeling extremely parched.

"So he never knew you were there?"

I shook my head. "It's probably better that way."

"I thought…" Jacob trailed off, seeming lost in his own thoughts. He glanced back up at me and shook his head. "I just thought you had talked some sense into him."

"At this rate, it doesn't look like anyone can."

Jacob stared at me, perplexed. "Isabella, haven't you see any of the news this morning?"

I snorted. "That's the last thing I want to see – more pictures and rumors of Edward's overdose and my name thrown into the mix of it all."

Jacob smiled wryly at me. "For someone whose name is all over the media, you are the least up-to-date person in current events that I know. Whether it was you, his family, or the overdose…something knocked some sense into Edward. He checked himself into rehab this morning, Isabella."

As I had done so many times in the past 24 hours, tears immediately formed and started rolling down my cheeks. Jacob was by my side, pulling me into a hug. He was more than used to seeing me cry over these past two months. Except this time, for the first time since our breakup, I was finally crying tears of relief.

Edward's POV:

Pale colors and empty walls.

I wasn't sure what exactly I had been expecting when I entered Promises Rehab. I guess, in my mind, the place would have looked more like an insane asylum, and my room would have been padded. Pale colors and empty walls.

Instead, as the attending nurse gave me and my parents a tour of the grounds, the place looked no different than any other Malibu mansion I had been to. The center was located a short distance from the beach, with its own private walkway down to the water. The grounds boasted of a pool, tennis court, basketball court, and plenty of lounge chairs sprawled across the perfectly manicured lawn. This rehab center looked more like a spa getaway.

We made our way down a corridor to the patients' rooms.

"What do you think?" Esme asked, placing a hand on my shoulder as we stopped in front of a closed door.

I hadn't said much to anyone since Carlisle had put in the phone call to Promises. Truthfully, I was stunned that it only took a few hours for representatives to show up to my room and inform me that I was being discharged immediately into their care. I'm sure Carlisle knew there was only a small window of opportunity open before my denial kicked back in. And, if I was being honest with myself, it already had.

The entire ride to Promises, I convinced myself of all the reasons why going to rehab wasn't a good idea – my fans, the tour, my image. But even with all of those excuses, something kept me stationed in the back of the van as we moved closer and closer to my impending doom. Perhaps it was that both of my parents were on either side of me, hands clasped on my legs, almost like their own way of shackling me to the car. Knowing how much I had disappointed them, and how much more I could potentially break their hearts, kept me locked in place. Or maybe it was the lack of my brother's presence in the car that was a constant, silent reminder of how I had already damaged so many relationships. Evidently, simply saying I was going to rehab wasn't enough for Emmett to forgive me yet.

I looked out the window at the end of the hallway, to the gentle waves crashing onto the sand, and then back to my mother, who was still waiting for an answer.

"I think staying in a place like this for 30 days will have me cured in no time," I said a bit too optimistically.

Carlisle frowned at my over-eager response.

"This may be a nicer living situation than you expected, Edward, but I can assure you that they follow the same 12-step detox program as any other rehabilitation center."

"Meaning what exactly?"

"Meaning…nothing about this is going to be simple, Son. There are going to be plenty of days when you are just going to want to walk right out of here and quit. And you're a grown man; there is nothing anybody can do to hold you back. So are you prepared to fight like hell for your sobriety?"

I thought about my strained relationship with Emmett and the nonexistent one I had with Bella. I thought about the band and my career, and how it had all come crashing down. It was time to stop trying to escape my problems by running away. I still had plenty of things worth fighting for.

I simply nodded at Carlisle, as the orderly opened the door to my new home for the next month.

"I'm ready."

The room was much less glamorous than the rest of the house. Probably half the size of my bedroom at home, the room had two beds, two dressers, and a small bathroom attached. Much to my dismay, I saw that one half of the room was already occupied. The bed closest to the window had some bags surrounding it, and above it were various posters of different rock bands. Some of the guys in those bands I knew and had partied with on countless occasions.

I groaned and looked back at the orderly, just as she was leaving the room.

"What the fuck is this? I didn't sign up for a roommate!"

"All rooms are double occupancy," she said, smiling, as she closed the door behind her.

I looked around at, what I now viewed as, my tiny prison. There was no way in hell they were going to have me sleep with someone else. I was a fucking celebrity! I didn't share a room with one bathroom! I thought back to the last time I even had a roommate. Aside from Bella, which didn't really count, I hadn't shared a room with anyone since the first few months I attended college.

"This is some fucked up shit they expect!" I lashed out at Carlisle.

"Edward, relax! Having to live with someone else is the least of your problems. For all you know, this guy may end up being another celebrity. You two could be friends."

As if to completely debunk my father's last comment, the door was promptly thrown open and a short, skinny kid with brown hair entered the room; he couldn't have been any older than eighteen.

The kid stopped dead in his tracks when he saw us, staring back and forth between my parents and me, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

"Holy shit, you're Edward Cullen!" the kid spit out, after finally finding his voice again.

I turned back to Carlisle, completely ignoring the pint-size boy beside me. "Where the fuck is your friend? I want to speak to him right this instant!"

Carlisle pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated, and ushered us out of the room.

"Nice to meet you," Carlisle said back to the boy, who was still staring in wonder. "Edward will be back to formally introduce himself soon."

"Like hell I will!"

I stalked down the hallway, following my parents and fuming the entire way. After we rounded a few corners, Carlisle came to a closed office door and gave three sharp knocks. Printed on the door in bold, black letters was: Dr. Sam Uley, MD.

"Enter," a calm but firm voice called out from behind the door.

Carlisle opened the door to a man who appeared to be in his late thirties. He smiled when he saw Carlisle and stood up to greet him, shaking his hand. The man towered over Carlisle, which was impressive because Carlisle is nearly as tall as me.

"Ah, Carlisle and Esme, so good to see you again! Although, I'm sure you would have preferred different circumstances," he said with a tight smile. Dr. Uley then turned his attention towards me. "And you must be Edward. How are you finding your stay so far?"

"Terrible!" I spat out.

Dr. Uley looked amused but waited for me to continue.

"You put me in a room with a kid! Not just a kid – but a fan! I don't share rooms," I nearly growled out the last part.

"Well, Edward, I assure you that you'll be sharing a lot of things here at Promises. Roommates are required for all patients. It gives you a form of accountability, as well as a confidant."

"Like I'll be confiding anything to a teenage kid!" I scoffed.

Dr. Uley smiled wryly. "I think pairing you with Seth Clearwater is the perfect match. You may be surprised at what you can teach him…and what you can learn from him, in return."

I shook my head, highly doubting that a kid that probably hadn't even finished high school yet could teach me anything. I'd traveled around the world and probably seen more than this kid ever could imagine.

"Edward, I know this is all foreign and uncomfortable to you, but it's all part of the process. While you're here, I must ask you to respect the process, if you want to manage your addiction. You do want to change, correct?"

I frowned and looked back at my parents, who were now staring at me apprehensively. I could see all the fear in Esme's eyes as she waited, holding her breath. They were already picturing me leaving, before I even gave it a chance. I broke eye contact with them, feeling a new wave of guilt all over again for what I was doing to them. Carlisle's words from earlier came back, hitting me over the head like a ton of bricks: Are you prepared to fight like hell for your sobriety?

I looked back into Dr. Uley's eyes.

"Yeah, I'm ready," I repeated for the second time that day.

Dr. Uley extended his hand and grabbed mine, shaking it. "Good! Well, let's get you back to your room so you can unpack in time for dinner! This will be where you say goodbye to your parents. Carlisle and Esme, I will see both of you next week for our first family counseling session. And Edward, I will see you tomorrow for our first one-on-one session!"

After a brief, but tearful, goodbye from Esme, and Carlisle pulling me into a hug and telling me how proud he was of me, I made my way back down the hall towards my new room and new roommate. Carlisle may have been proud of me, but I still didn't feel like there wasn't anything worth being proud about yet. So I managed to stick it out for one night…I still had no clue how to get my life back on track.

I entered the room and the skinny kid, who had been lying down, shot up off his bed and stood in front of me awkwardly.

"Um…hey."

"Hey," the kid squeaked out. "I'm Seth."

I nodded and started to unpack some of my belongings into the empty dresser by my bed.

"Edward. But you already knew that."

"Yeah, sorry about that earlier. I swear I'm not like a fan or anything! I mean, your music is good, don't get me wrong. But I'm like a Disturbed guy," he rushed out, motioning back to the posters on his wall.

I nodded again, unsure how to respond. Seth continued to watch me as I moved about the room, making me extremely uncomfortable.

"So, um, when did you get here?" I asked, feeling the need to start a conversation.

"Yesterday. So far it's ok. There's some cool people that you'll meet at dinner. We spend a lot of time in group therapy in the mornings and then we have our one-on-ones in the afternoons."

"And at night?"

Seth shrugged. "Relax, play games, meditate."

"Not my typical night."

Seth laughed. "Me neither. But it's cool so far. I mean, for only being here a night…it's cool."

"So what are you in here for, kid? You have to be, what, seventeen?"

Seth bristled. "I'm eighteen. And I'm an alcoholic."

For some reason his statement amused me. I drank plenty of beer with my friends when we were underage – but I never considered myself an alcoholic.

"Jesus, kid – aren't you a little young to have that type of label? Everyone drinks when they're a teenager!"

Seth sat back down on his bed, putting some distance between us. He scratched the back of his head and kept his eyes glued to his sneakers.

"Yeah, well…I started drinking when I was ."

I froze and stared at Seth, completely taken aback by his statement. This was a kid – just a kid.

And here I thought my stories would make people cringe.

"Well that's….shit," I muttered, not even sure how to continue with my sentence.

"Yeah," Seth said, looking back up at me. "It's shit."

Day 7

Bella's POV:

I paced back and forth in the lobby of Sony's New York headquarters, waiting to speak with James. I was furious, and while I was never shy about voicing my opinions with him before, this time I was absolutely putting my foot down.

James had called me the day before and informed me that he had set up an important business meeting that could potentially skyrocket my career. Of course, as with any of James's ideas, I was apprehensive, but at this point I also needed to do something to get my career back on track. James informed me that he would be meeting with another client, but he was more than sure that I was capable of taking care of myself (I definitely heard the sarcasm dripping from his voice from across the other end of the phone).

So, after making myself up to look as professional as possible by putting on a black pin-striped skirted suit, I made my way over to Balthazar's for my breakfast meeting. I was anxious to shift the focus back onto my music. Instead…I was pitched a complete joke.

When I arrived at the restaurant, I was introduced to Eric, a producer from VH1. Before I could even take the first sip of my coffee, Eric had already gone into a 30 minute pitch about the new reality show they had lined up for me.

"We'll follow you around on all your adventures in New York – going to all the parties, following your career, and, of course, finding true love!" he said, giving me an exaggerated wink. "You'll be a household name in no time! And, don't worry, we already have writers working on some great one-liners you can say throughout the episodes to make you appear cute and ditzy!"

My fingers tightened around the fork I was holding; I had to rein myself in before I stabbed the man's hand.

"I don't see how making myself appear to be an idiot is going to help my music career," I said point-blank.

"Your music will be in all of the episodes! We'll be following you on your rise to fame! Look at some of our other music sensations and how famous they became after their reality shows: Jessica and Ashley Simpson, Brooke Hogan, Paris Hilton…"

"Their music careers are all dead!" I spat out. "All those shows do are highlight a bunch of talentless people who are famous for doing nothing. NO ONE will take me seriously if I do a reality show – especially if you have me acting like a bumbling idiot!"

"Isabella, I think you misunderstand – this is a chance to be famous…everyone will know who you are."

"I know with my face all over the tabloids, it may not look like it…but I value my privacy and personal life. The only thing I want a spotlight on is my music. I am looking for ways for people to stop focusing so much on my image and take my music seriously. How would I ever accomplish that as a reality-star bimbo?"

After silencing Eric, I promptly left the table and hopped on the subway straight to James's office. Did he really think having me on a reality show was a good idea? Was this all a joke to him? Was he even taking my career seriously?

"Ms. Swan? Mr. Laurent will see you now," the receptionist called from behind the large front desk, breaking up my thoughts.

I strode down the hall and pushed open his door, without even bothering to knock. James looked up from his desk, a smug smile plastered onto his face.

"Isabella, I wasn't expecting to see you today. Everything went well with your meeting, I assume?"

"Do you really think I'm an idiot?" I spat.

James placed his arms behind his head; he sat back in his chair and propped his feet on the desk. "Isabella, there are many words I would use to describe you. However, 'idiot' isn't in the Top 10."

"A reality show? Seriously, James? Did you actually think I'd say yes?"

"I thought that you'd jump at the opportunity to be portrayed in a positive light, Isabella. Give the public a chance to see the fun and quirky side of you…you know, all those qualities I so enjoy about you," James drawled.

"My music is my main priority!"

"Ah, see that's where we differ, Isabella – your name is my priority."

"Reality shows are a last resort for washed-up celebrities. Please, James…I'm sure there are other ways," I pleaded.

James put his feet back down and began to play with a pen in the middle of his desk. "There may be…but if I remember correctly, you signed a contract with me stating you'd do as I saw fit."

He stared me straight in the eyes and smirked, making me feel immediately nauseated.

"I see this as your only option, Isabella."

I stared at him dumbfounded…was he forcing me do this? Was he threatening me? He continued to watch me, amused, as I tried to make sense of what he was implying. His comical expression only infuriated me more.

"You can't make me do something I refuse to do, James! I'll go to Aro! If it's between selling my integrity and losing my record deal, I'll walk away from it all right now!"

James sat up straight in his chair, the smug smile immediately wiped off his face. He briefly seemed caught off-guard, but immediately masked any reaction.

"There's no need to bother Aro," James said quietly, looking out the window of the high-rise. "If you refuse to do the reality show…then you are going against my judgment, as your manager."

I was taken aback by the sudden change in James's demeanor. Not even a minute before, I had been sure this would end in either a conference call with Aro or me kicking and screaming as I was dragged from James's office. And now…he was dropping the issue. What was going on?

"So what now?" I asked, voicing my concerns out loud. "You just wait for the next reality show offer to drop on your desk? What about my music, James?"

James stood up and walked over to a small table by the window, filled with various papers. He looked down and lightly rummaged through them.

"Oh, your music is still very much at the front of my mind, Isabella," he muttered, more to himself. "As it so happens, I just spoke with Aro this morning about the plan for your next single."

Finally feeling like we were going to talk about something worthwhile, I took a few steps forward and sat in one of the seats in front of James's desk. He continued to leaf through the papers, his back towards me.

"With all of the publicity surrounding you and Edward's unfortunate circumstances, Aro wants to pounce on the positive press you're finally receiving. It seems that people believe that you, the prodigal girlfriend, have rushed back to be by his side during his time of need."

"That's not the case."

"It doesn't really matter if it is the case, does it, Isabella? Aro sees a way to finally get you out of the mess you created and have the media back on your side."

James turned around and looked at me, waiting for a reaction. I clenched my mouth shut, willing myself not to snap until I heard everything he had to say. When he realized I wasn't giving him the response he hoped for, he continued.

"Aro wants your next single to be Anytime. The fact that the lyrics to that song are all about being there for your love when he needs it, means everyone will immediately associate the song with you and Edward. Aro sees it as a win-win situation, helping to push your music back into the spotlight, while garnering sympathy for Edward while he's in rehab."

James turned his back on me once again and looked out the window. He paused. During his silence, I was fuming; I refused to use Edward's situation as a way to further my career. I refused to do it when my name was dragged through the mud, and I refused to do it now. I was tired of riding on Edward's coattails and just wanted to prove to everyone that my music could stand by itself.

"Of course," James continued, "I've already let Aro know how stubborn you can be, and I didn't think there was any way you'd agree to using your next single to exploit Edward's situation. Personally, I would like nothing more than to see your name in the press without Edward Cullen's anywhere near it."

James turned back towards me and I stared at him, completely bewildered. Seconds ago, I had been ready to pounce and tell him exactly where he and Aro could place my new single. But now it seemed…did James actually make a decision for me that was in my best interest? I felt like everything was upside down. For once, James and I were on the same page.

"Umm…yeah, I completely agree," I said, almost unable to even form the words.

James's smile slowly spread across his face. He strode back to his desk and sat down, facing me. "Let me be frank, Isabella. I'm tired of fighting you at every turn. I have plenty of other clients I could be focusing my time and energy on. I'm resigned to the fact that you think you know more than me, so I'll let you do things your way…and if it all blows up …you only have yourself to blame for ruining your career."

Ah, there's the Asshole James I was missing.

"I'm thrilled about your confidence in me," I drawled sarcastically.

"You've been wanting to do an upbeat rock song for your next single – by all means, let's see how the radio reacts to 'Rocker Isabella Swan.' But if I could make one suggestion…your best bet for instant airplay is Since U Been Gone. It's catchy and could easily be marketed as the next girl anthem."

I sat back and took in everything James said. I wasn't quite sure about James's reasoning behind this sudden change. Did he want me to succeed, or was he ready to wash his hands of me and be done? As much as it bothered me that I didn't feel supported by him, the fact of the matter was, I never felt supported by him. Giving me the power to control how I wanted my music to be conveyed was what I had been wishing for! But now that I finally had it, I couldn't help but feel there was a catch. Still…Since U Been Gone was a good idea for a radio hit.

My thoughts were interrupted by a loud buzz from the intercom.

"Mr. Laurent – your next client is here to see you."

James hit a button on his phone. "I'll be right out." He turned his attention back to me. "Take some time to think about it, Isabella. You're scheduled to premiere your new single next month at the VMA's."

James stood up and opened the door, signaling it was time for me to leave.

"So this is really it? You're letting me have the final say?" I asked, still trying to wrap my head around his sudden relinquishment of power.

James cocked his eyebrow. "If that doesn't appeal to you, I'd be happy to get VH1 back on the phone and tell them the reality show is on."

I threw my hands up, exasperated, and walked out of James office towards the lobby. My mind was whirling with the repercussions of what was about to happen. Was this all a trick? How would Aro react when he realized I wasn't playing into his media game? Was James letting me choose my next single, only to offer no promotion? That couldn't be the case if I was now scheduled to perform at the VMA's. I knew the direction that I wanted to take my career…but would James actually let me go there?

Something was definitely up.

Edward's POV:

After one week in this God-forsaken place I was already clawing at the walls, trying to get out. It was all too real for me – the stories, the addictions, the pain. Each day after I woke up I was assaulted with more harrowing testimonials of the other patients here. Just listening to their stories made me want to drink.

Patients like Seth. At the age of nine, his parents abandoned him, leaving him in the care of his abusive uncle. Seth would get into his uncle's liquor cabinet to try and numb the pain, only receive worse beatings when his uncle found him drunk. After too many visits to the emergency room, Child Services finally stepped. His life continued to spiral out of control, bouncing around numerous foster families. Finally, he ended up with a family whose father worked at Promises. They were willing to adopt him, even at age eighteen, but only if he went to rehab and got cleaned up. I could understand his desire to have a loving family in his life.

At a different group session, a young girl named Leah shared about her struggles with an eating disorder and self-mutilation. Her story reminded me of every other angst-filled teenager out there, and I had just started to tune out, when the group therapist asked Leah why she needed perfection in her life. Leah remained silent for awhile and then quietly opened up about her step-father molesting her.

Every story left me feeling physically sick. It was no wonder each person in the facility had an addiction – their lives had been filled with nothing but pain and suffering! At each meeting, the therapist would ask me if I wanted to share my story, but I constantly refused. What could I tell this group of people?

"Oh, I'm an international rock star and pretty-much had the world at my finger tips – but I decided to fuck it up anyway and do drugs."

Who was I kidding? These people had real problems.

Me? I was just a joke.

To make it worse, at my first Family Counseling session, Esme sat there weeping the entire time, trying to figure out where she went wrong with me. She insisted on drudging up every rebellious or "traumatic" moment from my past, trying to figure out what was the cause of my addiction. I sat silently, gripping the arms of my chair, listening to her sob on and on. For some reason it made me angry. Why couldn't she realize this wasn't about her? This wasn't about anyone but me.

Noticeably absent from the counseling session was Emmett. I couldn't blame him. At this moment, I wanted nothing to do with me either. But if I was being honest, it would have been a relief to have Emmett in the same room screaming at me. I was tired of everyone placating me. The therapists and counselors simply nodded when I acted like an asshole, saying they'd let me go at my own pace. Dr. Uley, who I refused to open up to, sat quietly in his office – as if he thought by playing the silent game, I would eventually crack and pour my heart out to him. And my parents were basket-cases, still blaming themselves.

If Emmett were here, he'd blame nobody else but me. Even as I spiraled out-of-control on the tour, and he was clearly at his rope's-end with me, Emmett never had a problem telling me what a little shit head I was being. He would tell it to me straight – how I had fucked up everything, ruined my life, and destroyed all my relationships. And while I already knew everything he would say to me, I felt like I needed to hear it – to constantly be reminded of what I had done…to continue being punished for it.

After my parents left, I continued to sit in Dr. Uley's office, waiting to be eventually dismissed. I watched as Dr. Uley made some notes in my file until he looked up and made eye contact with me.

"So what are your thoughts on the first Family Session, Edward?"

I shrugged; I knew he was still trying to get me to open-up. "Uneventful."

He gave me a wry smile then went back to writing another note. "I don't think your parents would feel the same way."

"Yeah, well, my parents don't really seem to get what the problem is."

Dr. Uley dropped his pen and stared at me. "So, what is the problem, Edward?"

I shrugged.

Me. The problem's me – not them.

Dr. Uley waited a few more minutes in silence before he finally realized that I wasn't going to respond. "Your brother didn't show up today."

I knew the tactic he was trying to pull. It wasn't going to work.

"Yeah, well, he's angry," I said nonchalantly.

"Are you angry?"

"Not at him."

Dr. Uley's eyes met mine again. "Who are you mad at?"

Me.

I shrugged again and looked down at the carpet.

After about five more minutes of silence, I glanced back up at Dr. Uley, who was still staring at me. "Can I go now?"

Dr. Uley sighed and took off his glasses. "Edward, why are you here?"

I stared at him incredulously. Was this a trick question?

"To get better?"

"And do you feel it's working?"

"Well, I haven't had a drink or snorted in seven days, so it's a start," I said sarcastically.

"And when you leave here…if someone were to offer you a line of coke…would you be able to say, 'no'?"

"I dunno, Doc, you tell me. Aren't you supposed to be giving me the tools?"

Dr. Uley sat back in his chair. "Edward, being here is no different than getting treated at the hospital for an ailment. I can't help you get better until I know what your symptoms are. So far you haven't opened up to anyone here about your problem."

I couldn't help but snort at the ridiculousness of the situation. "I drink and do drugs…I thought my problem was obvious."

Dr. Uley pushed forward in his chair; his gaze penetrating mine. "But why, Edward?"

Something inside me finally snapped. I was tired of his questions. I was tired of being here. And I was tired of everyone trying to get me to open up, like I had some hidden sob story for why I am the way I am.

"Because I'm an asshole! Ok, Doc?" I yelled at him. "My problem is I was bored with nothing better to do than party all the time! I wasn't molested like Leah or abused like Seth. I don't have any real problems! I have two great parents, who somehow still love me after all the shit I've put them through! I'm just a selfish rock star, who got everything I ever wanted – and it still wasn't enough!"

Dr. Uley blinked, seemingly unaffected by my rant. "Hasn't getting everything you wanted been part of the problem?"

"So you're saying I use because I'm spoiled?" I scoffed. "I've already told you, my parents aren't to blame for this."

"I'm not blaming your parents," Dr. Uley said, writing something down again in his notebook. "Edward, when did you get into the music industry?"

"I dunno…I think I was eighteen when the label picked us up."

Dr. Uley nodded, continuing to write, without looking up. "And you were given your own team of handlers, correct? To make over your images and transform you?"

I nodded.

"And what was your image?"

"The bad boy."

"And do you agree with that?"

I chuckled to myself. "Well, look where I am, Doc – wouldn't you say I'm a rebel?"

Dr. Uley stopped writing and looked back up at me. "I'd say you were given that identity, Edward – and that's the problem.

"There's a famous developmental theorist, named Erik Erikson, who came up with different developmental stages that lead us into adulthood. His theory was that, while genetics do play a part, the environment effects how a person develops as well. Your culture, Edward, was significantly different than most other adolescents growing up."

"I'm not quite following you," I said, not really caring to hear a lecture on psychology.

"In Erikson's stages, if you cannot overcome a stage – you're stuck at that developmental period in your life. It's the developmental explanation of immaturity."

"So you're telling me I'm immature?"

"Emotionally – yes," Dr. Uley said, cleaning off his glasses.

Part of me wanted to punch the shrink and flee the room as fast as possible. But there was another part of (probably the part that realized my immediate reaction was immature) that stayed in my seat, ready to hear him continue his explanation.

"Edward, at the time that you entered the music industry and other people started making decisions about your life, you were in Erikson's Adolescent Stage of Identity vs. Role Confusion. Basically, the typical time of an adolescent's life where they're trying to find out who they are – this is usually resolved when the teen leaves home to find themselves, going off to college or what have you.

"At that time in your life – and consequently even now – you have not been able to go on your own journey of self-discovery, finding out your identity. You were thrust into the spotlight and told who you should be. Every decision was made for you. Consequently, the process of becoming an adult – taking responsibility for your own actions – has been stripped from you. Thus, you've been stuck in this stage, experiencing role confusion and trying to decipher who is the real you.

"Of course, these are all Erikson's theories, and we have plenty of theorists that we can go through with our time together," Dr. Uley dismissed passively. "Does any of this make sense to you?"

I stared back at Dr. Uley, dumbfounded. Did any of it make sense to me? It was my fucking life! I constantly felt that I was living a double-life: Volturi Edward and Edward Cullen. Yet, I couldn't explain it to anyone for fear that people would think I had split-personality disorder. Hell, I was even scared I had it! But here was this doctor, who not only summed up my entire inner-struggle, but did so with more eloquence than I could have ever mustered.

I nodded my head and stared down at my hands, unsure where he was going with this theory.

"You said that a person's stuck in a stage until they can overcome it?" I asked. Dr. Uley nodded his head. "What's the next stage?"

"Intimacy vs. Isolation."

"But I've had intimacy!" I countered back. "With Bella! She's the only woman I've ever loved. I could be myself around her. She knew the real me! Hell, I think she knew who I was more than myself."

"Ah, which leads me back to my original question, Edward – Why? Why are you an addict?"

"I thought your little theory just established why," I said, now getting annoyed.

"I think we both know plenty of immature assholes in our lives; not all of them are addicts, Edward. Most people aren't like Leah or Seth – they don't start drinking or trying drugs because of some traumatic past. It's usually peer-pressure, or curiosity, or just easy availability. But the reason why you are an addict is the same as every other person in this facility – you've used it as a way to cope.

"So the question is, Edward, when did it stop being about partying and start being a coping mechanism?"

I thought back to the times I had drunk excessively or used drugs. All of those times occurred on tour; usually because they were so readily available to me. When I got together with Bella, I stopped experimenting with drugs. Obviously, I didn't have a problem then. I wouldn't have been able to stop so easily if I had.

But something about this current tour made me start to fall apart. If I was being honest, those feelings of insecurity happened before we even started. Maybe I was setting myself up for failure. Something about my relationship with Bella, announcing it to the world, and then being away from her for weeks at a time, made me question everything about myself. That's when those feelings of having a double-identity started.

But even then…I didn't automatically turn to drugs. My thoughts went back to the night I still tried to forget – my birthday. That's when I started using coke again. But that night…that was an immature and stupid decision. It was my choices after that, that led to me having to cope with the mistakes I made.

"I guess it was when I started lying to Bella."

"So, the one person who knew the real you…didn't know you anymore?"

The truth to what he said hit me hard. I sucked in a deep breath and absent-mindedly rubbed my chest, as if Dr. Uley's words had physically punched me in the heart. I nodded my head and bowed it between my hands, unable to deal with the onslaught of pain that had just emerged.

"Edward, I can see you're processing a lot of emotions right now. Tell me what you're thinking."

I looked back up at Dr. Uley, fighting back the tears that were welling up in my eyes. "How can I figure out who I am…without her?"

Day 14

Bella's POV:

I stood outside the coffee shop on 12th street, took a drag off my cigarette, and adjusted my sunglasses for the umpteenth time, hoping not to be recognized by any renegade paparazzi. The minute I saw the brown-haired pixie bouncing down the street, I stubbed out the remains of my Marlboro, and waved.

I hadn't spoken to Alice since that night in the hospital, so I was genuinely surprised when she left me a voice message saying she was in New York and wanted to meet up. I immediately called her back. It wasn't fair that I had shut her out of my life during the breakup, and she had been there for me throughout his overdose when she didn't have to be. It was time to get my friendship with Alice back on track.

"Hey! What are you doing in New York?" I asked, pulling Alice into a hug as she approached me.

"Fashion week is in two weeks, so I figured I'd come and get some things ready for the big event!"

We walked into the coffee shop and sat down at a table, giving the waitress our orders.

"So, is that what you're doing now? Working in high-end fashion?" I asked in a fake sophisticated voice.

"I wish! I'm just doing some freelance styling for a few different celebrities. I'm going to scope out some of the designs while I'm here before I style them for the huge event."

The waitress arrived with our drinks, and Alice took a sip before continuing on.

"Say – you should let me style you for Fashion Week!"

"That would be amazing…but I don't know if I'll be on the guest list. Aro and James haven't exactly been communicating what their plans are for me."

"Who cares what their plans are? You're my guest, so you're on the list! Now please let me style you! You're one of my favorite people to dress because you just let me do whatever I want!"

"That's because I don't know any better and have no clue what you're doing."

"I'm taking that as a yes!" Alice said, cheerfully taking out her phone and typing something in. "Oh, I already know what fall colors will look amazing on you!"

"I can hardly wait," I said dully.

We continued to make small talk as we drank our coffees. The air was heavy with all the unsaid issues lying between us, but neither of us was brave enough to approach it first.

"How's Jasper?" I asked.

"Oh, he's fine. He's back in LA working on some of his own sounds in the studio. It really all depends on what happens with the band…" She trailed off, but the issue of Edward still lingered.

I sighed, knowing I was going to break down and ask. I had to know.

"How is he?"

Alice shook her head. "I haven't heard much. I know he's been at Promises for the past two weeks, so at least he's taking it seriously, and he hasn't left."

I nodded, unsure how to continue the conversation, but still having a ton of unanswered questions.

"Listen, Isabella, about that night…" Alice began.

I waved her off. "I shouldn't have asked you to take me there; it's my fault."

"To hell it's your fault!" Alice spit out, and it was the first time I heard her get truly angry. "You had every right to be there, and I should have been a better friend and stuck up for you. Emmett had no right to say what he said! Rosalie was horrified at his behavior. And when Esme and Carlisle found out, he looked like a 5-year-old kid getting punished."

Under different circumstances, the visual would have had me chuckling, but the memories of that night were still all too real.

"It doesn't matter now."

"It does," Alice pushed. "Besides…I know Emmett feels horrible about what he did."

"He does?"

Alice sighed. "It's not just Edward that's fallen apart, Isabella. We all have. When Edward lost you, it's like we all suffered the consequences and lost you as a friend as well."

I looked down guiltily; she was absolutely right.

"I'm not saying it's your fault. I would have probably done the same thing in that situation…but we're all trying to fit the pieces back together now. We've all missed you, Isabella. I know Emmett, Jasper, even Rosalie want to reach out to you – but they're afraid you'll just hang up on them."

My thoughts ran back to Emmett chasing after me, my last night on the tour.

"You are not my friend!" I had spat at him. And then he twisted those words and threw them right back into my face at the hospital.

"A lot of things were said on both sides, Alice. Things that shouldn't have been said…"

"So now's the time to clear the air. Listen, I know they were a part of your life because of Edward. And I'm not saying that Edward needs to be back in your life. But things ended so suddenly…and so badly…"

I swallowed hard, taking in everything Alice was saying. It was true; I missed my friendships with everyone. Rosalie and I had finally come to an understanding and actually enjoyed being around one another. Jasper was always the sweet and sensitive friend I could go to with any problem. And Emmett…he was the big brother I never had. I thought of him as my family.

"You're right," I finally rasped out. "I'll, um…I'll give Em a call."

"No need to." Alice beamed. "Now, don't kill me…but I actually spoke to him on the way here to meet you. I told him it was ok to call you tonight."

Day 21

Edward's POV:

I walked down the hallway, prepared to face my third family counseling session for the week. While things between my parents and me were still tense, it was getting better. After finally opening up to Dr. Uley about my problems, I was able to get a clearer understanding of how everything started to fall apart. I was able to explain some of that to my parents at our last counseling session, and I think they finally understood that they had to stop blaming themselves.

My talks with Dr. Uley had started to get better as well. He was helping me to figure out who I was really…and most importantly, the kind of man I wanted to be.

"Alright, Doc, let's do this," I said, opening the door to his office. But I was stunned silent and frozen in place, staring at the person standing next to Dr. Uley.

"Em?"

Emmett stood there awkwardly, twisting his baseball cap in his hands; he was unable to look me in the eye.

"Hey, um, I asked Mom and Dad to let me speak to you alone."

I nodded and walked inside, sitting down in my usual chair. Having Emmett here wasn't at all what I expected. And I wasn't sure if I was ready to have a confrontation with him yet. Dr. Uley and Emmett glanced at me and followed suit, sitting down in each of their chairs.

"Edward, I know Emmett's arrival comes as a shock to you," Dr. Uley began. "But I was glad when he reached out to me this morning and said he wanted to come. I know this is a conversation you may not want to have now, but I'd rather you deal with your emotions behind the safety of these walls before you leave the facility."

"What, you think Emmett's words are going to hurt my feelings?" I scoffed. I knew I was being an asshole. I was turning right back into that guy Dr. Uley and I had been working so hard to change…but it was like a switch had been flipped, and I wasn't sure how to turn it off.

"Edward…we've hurt each other a lot," Emmett said.

"Yeah, well…you were pretty much right with everything you said."

"I was angry…I'm not gonna lie, I'm still angry. I'm trying not to be. I want to be supportive and proud of the steps you're taking. But I can't stop being angry."

"Why is this so hard for you, Emmett?" Dr. Uley asked.

"You don't know what it's like…"

Emmett glanced at me, and I could see the pain radiating from his eyes. He bowed his head and wiped his hand over his face, keeping it covered. We remained silent in the room, except for Emmett's labored breaths. When he finally spoke up again, his voice was broken.

"You don't know what it's like to watch your little brother destroy his life right in front of you," Emmett sobbed.

He wiped at his face again; this time I saw the tears pouring down his cheeks. I held back my own sob and bit my lip hard, trying to focus on the pain, instead of watching my big brother dissolve in front of me.

"I tried so hard…I thought maybe if I do this, or say that – he'll come to his senses. But nothing I did was enough."

"Em…" I choked out. I couldn't bear to hear him say any more.

"I thought I lost you!" he turned to me and cried out. "That entire drive to the hospital, I thought, for sure, you were dead! And the only thing I could think about was my last words to you were that I didn't want you to be my best man!"

"I'm sorry, Em. I know I hurt you and so many other people. I know I'll never be able to make up for what I did…but I want to try."

Emmett paused and wiped his face. "That's the first time you've sounded like my brother in a long time."

I didn't understand what he was talking about.

"What do you mean?"

"For the past couple of months, every time I've talked to you, all I've heard were the drugs…just a bunch of lies and denial. I'm starting to remember what sober Edward's like again."

"Yeah…I'm starting to remember too," I said wryly.

Emmett looked down at his baseball cap that he was still twisting, put it back on his head, and let out a loud sigh.

"I, um, have something else I need to tell you too – but you're not gonna like it."

"Ok?"

"I spoke to Isabella this week."

I immediately felt all my defenses rise up in front of me. He spoke to my Bella! What did he say? What did she say? I nervously glanced up at Dr. Uley, whose eyes were fixed on mine – he was obviously gauging my reaction to see if Emmett should continue. I let out a few deep breaths and nodded for Emmett to go on.

"There's something you should know about the night you overdosed." Emmett kept his eyes on his feet, and I waited with bated breath for him to continue. "When Isabella came to see you…I was so angry…I wasn't thinking straight…"

"What happened, Emmett?" I asked, impatiently.

"I threw her out of the hospital. I told her it was all her fault, and she had no right to see you."

Before I could even register all the words that Emmett had spoken, I was on my feet. I lunged towards Emmett, fists flying.

"Edward!" Dr. Uley yelled, jumping out of his seat.

I had Emmett pinned against the wall, my arm pushing into his neck. He didn't bother to fight back.

"Why the fuck would you do that?"

"I was so scared that I had lost you! I was angry! I blamed her! I blamed myself! I blamed you! And when she walked in…I just snapped."

"Edward, if we're going to continue this conversation, you're going to have to step away from your brother," Dr. Uley said, stepping between us. "Otherwise, I'm going to have to ask Emmett to leave."

I relaxed my arms, dropping them to my side. After staring at Emmett, and still debating what to do, I finally decided to listen to Dr. Uley and walked back to my seat.

"This wasn't her fault, Em," I moaned, falling back down into my seat. "None of this is. It's not yours, Mom's, or Dad's. It's all mine. This all lies on me."

"I know that now," Emmett said, sitting back down as well. Dr. Uley still stood off to the side, guarding our conversation. "Which is why I called her and apologized."

"What did she say?"

"What do you think she said?" Emmett laughed, sadly. "It's Iz – of course she forgave me. She also got on my ass about not visiting you yet. She said if she could forgive me, it was time for me to forgive myself as well and come talk to you."

God, I loved her so much. I would have given anything to hear her voice. She wouldn't even need to talk to me…if I had just heard her speak those words to Emmett, it would have been enough to help me sleep at night.

"I'm sorry I attacked you," I finally said to Emmett.

He rubbed the back of his neck and grinned. "It's ok. I deserved it. I would have even let you throw in a few punches."

We both chuckled, and for a moment it felt like we were back to our old selves again – that we weren't having a tense conversation while my therapist watched intently on the side.

"So what now?" I asked.

"Just keep doing what you're doing, bro," Emmett said. "You'll be out of here in no time."

"What about the band?" I asked tentatively. The last thing Jasper and Emmett said to me about the band was that they had quit. I wasn't sure if this was still the case.

Emmett glanced nervously between Dr. Uley and me.

"Aro actually called me yesterday…I don't want to worry you, but he's making it clear that if we don't go back on tour at the end of your 30-day stint, he's going to sue us for the amount of the tour."

"But that's…"

"Millions," Emmett finished my sentence.

I looked frantically at Dr. Uley. "What if I'm not ready after 30 days?"

Dr. Uley sat back down at his desk. "If you haven't passed the program at the end of the first 30 days, then you will be under doctor's orders to remain in-treatment. However, if at the end of the 30 days you're released from the treatment facility, I would still strongly advise you to go into an out-patient program. Going immediately back on-tour is putting yourself in a dangerous situation."

"And if Aro threatens legal action?" I asked, glancing between Dr. Uley and Emmett.

"If your doctor says we shouldn't do it, then we won't do it, Edward!" Emmett said.

I looked back at Dr. Uley, still waiting for a response from him.

Dr. Uley sighed and took off his glasses. "If you absolutely have to go on tour, then we'll set you up with a support system to insure you have someone to talk to at all times. But you're also going to need full support from your family as well."

Emmett nodded, clasping his hand on my shoulder. "I'm here for ya, bro. I never want to see you go back to that place again."

I shook my head. Part of me felt relieved to know that Emmett and I were on good terms again. But I couldn't help the feeling of dread that was rising up inside of me once I left this place.

"Me either."

Bella's POV:

I sat with Jacob on my couch, finishing the last of my beef and broccoli, while the credits to Brideszilla rolled. Jacob had been gone for the past two weeks on an assignment, and now that he was home, we were back to our regular Thursday-night festivities.

Jacob stood up to get us some more beers from my refrigerator.

"Do me a favor? Flip on the Yankees game for a second. I told some of the guys at work I couldn't go to the bar because I was watching the game tonight. At least I should know the score."

I snickered as I flipped the channel. "What, too embarrassed to say you're watching Brideszillas with me?"

"Mortified." Jacob flopped back down on the couch, handing me my beer. "So what all did I miss in the exciting world of Isabella Swan while I was gone?"

I spent the next half hour describing my conversations with Alice and Emmett, and the weird interaction I had with James. After replaying the entire conversation James and I had, I finally caught-him up with everything.

"And you haven't heard from James since?" Jacob asked.

"Nope."

"I think you may be right; I think he's trying to wash his hands of you…but what I don't understand is why would he try to do it now, when Aro wants the focus shifted back to you?"

"That's what I don't get either! One minute he sticks up for me and tells Aro that I won't sing a stupid love song to profit off of Edward, and then the next he leaves me hanging in the dark for two weeks."

"What did he say about your next single again?"

"Just that he was finally letting me have the upbeat rock-song I wanted. He was going to tell Aro that I'll be releasing Since U Been Gone. I'm supposed debut it at the VMA's next week and then it will go into heavy rotation on the radio."

"Hmm…." Jacob took a few more swigs of his beer, seemingly lost in thought.

"What?"

"I don't think James has your best interest in mind."

"I thought we had already established that," I said, annoyed.

"Yeah, but I don't think he's doing you any favors with your next single. I mean think about it, Isabella. Aro wanted you to do a slow love-song so that people would associate it with Edward. Well, what do you think an angry, upbeat song about an ex-lover is going to remind them of? And instead of people rooting for you and Edward to get back together, you're going to look like the heartless bitch that's deserting him in his time of need."

"Oh, shit." I gasped. Jacob was absolutely right. This would cause an even worse backlash than all the fake press I received when Edward and I broke up. "But why is James doing this?"

Jacob shrugged. "Maybe he realizes he can't order you around, so he wants to cut his losses."

"Well, what should I do? Should I go to Aro?"

"Aro's just going to make you sing the song he wants."

"So I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't?" I asked, annoyed.

"You're looking at it all wrong," Jacob said, smiling at me. "You're in a prime position right now. James isn't keeping tabs on you. You can do whatever you want – so take back your career and do the music you want to do."

"That's easier said than done," I said, frowning and thinking back to when my career was at its peak. I had such a strong support system around me; it was easy to pursue my goals. My father was my manager; Edward pushed me to make better music, and I had already established a fan-base in Europe and with some of The Volturi fans.

Now, I had nobody. I had a non-existent manager, no support system, and probably half of The Volturi fans hated me. My image had been changed around so many times within the past year that I wasn't even sure I knew who I was anymore.

"I can't do this on my own, Jake," I said, voicing my concerns out loud.

"Just go with your heart."

"That's the problem! My heart is in pieces! I'm completely lost, Jake! I don't even know who I am anymore – as a daughter, as a friend, or as an artist! How can I try and steer my career back in the right direction, when I have no fucking clue where I should be headed?"

"Let me remind you of the girl who won me over at my first interview," Jacob said, shifting his body on the couch so that he was now fully facing me. "The girl who made America fall in love with her and her music. It wasn't because of Edward Cullen or because you had some big, flashy image. It was because you were real. You sung from your heart. If you felt a certain way, you sang about it…and soon everyone who heard the song shared in your emotions. That's raw talent, Isabella. You don't need any special marketing skills…you just need to do it."

"How?"

"Stop trying to tiptoe around the Edward issue with your next single. Just sing what you're feeling and people will understand."

"I already told you how I felt," I said, miserably. "Lost. I feel like I'm never going to be the artist I truly want to be, and I don't even know who that person is anymore. I feel like I'm back to starting at the beginning again."

"Well that's easy," Jacob smirked. "You have plenty of songs you wrote about trying to break into the music industry. Let's start back at the beginning."

Day 28

Edward's POV:

Two days. In two days I would be out of Promises and back to my normal life. The thought terrified the shit out me. Dr. Uley said I had made tremendous progress throughout my time in rehab, and he had complete faith that as long I continued to follow the system, and reach out to my support system when I needed them, I would be able to manage my addiction.

I was glad that he had faith in me because I wasn't so sure of myself.

I knew that the minute I stepped out those doors I would be bombarded by the media, Aro, and all the mistakes I had made in the months leading up to my overdose. Now that it was coming to a close, I could almost view Promises as a luxury – a place I could focus strictly on myself without any outside influences.

I arrived at my regular time for one of my last meetings with Dr. Uley. As soon as I sat down in the overly plush chair, Dr. Uley was ready to get down to business.

"So, Edward…two more days."

"Oh? I hadn't noticed," I said sarcastically.

Dr. Uley gave a slight smile, now fully aware of my humor.

"What are your biggest concerns?"

"Is it enough time?"

"Edward, no one can put a time on recovery. For some people, thirty days is enough to make it stick. Others will come back to Promises a few times. I've given you the tools you'll need out in the 'real world.' You've worked the system here and now understand your triggers and the reasoning behind some of the choices you've made. I can only hold your hand for so long, before you have to go out on your own."

"Kind of like sending me off to college, huh, Doc?" I laughed. "I have to find my identity on my own."

Dr. Uley smiled, fully aware of my reference back to Erikson's Stages of Development. "How very astute and mature of you, Edward."

"There may be hope left me for yet, huh?"

"Oh, there's plenty of hope."

"I just want to get better and change. That's what my family deserves. That's what Bella deserves," I said, getting serious.

"Stop right there," Dr. Uley said, holding his hand up. "I want to make something very clear. You'll never 'get better,' Edward. You are an addict. You will be an addict for the rest of your life. All you can do is manage – day by day.

"One more important point, Edward. I know that you want to make amends for everything you put your loved ones through. But you cannot change for them. Getting sober can't be done for anyone else but yourself. Do you understand?"

I nodded.

"And while I have you here, I want to talk to you about your Bella. I know that you love her. I know that you want to make things right. But you also need to come to the realization now, before you leave here, that not everyone is going to forgive you. Bella may not forgive you. She may want nothing to do with you ever again! If that happens, it's your job to let her go. Your self-worth and the accomplishments you've made while being sober don't depend on what someone else thinks of you. If you don't understand that, you'll turn straight back to drugs. Have I made myself clear?"

I swallowed and nodded again.

"I need to hear it from you, Edward. By all means, try to make amends with Bella – but if she's not willing to forgive, are you willing to walk away from her?"

I thought about how I had already lost Bella. The only thing that kept my hopes alive at night was thinking of crawling back on my hands and knees, begging for forgiveness. I wasn't expecting for Bella to take me back with open arms. But there was still a bit of hope kept alive in me, that she could forgive me just as easily as she had done Emmett. That somehow everything could be right between us again.

To hear Dr. Uley say I may have to accept that she'll never forgive me and walk away from her was something I hadn't anticipated. Could I really accept that I may never be able to make things right with her? Could I just walk away?

I thought back to the life I had imagined with Bella…living together, asking her to marry me, watching her walk down the aisle, eventually having children together. I knew this was the type of life Bella wanted. And if I couldn't give it to her, then she still deserved to find that happiness with someone else. Maybe by her being able to find happiness, I'd eventually learn to be happy as well. I would do it for her.

I looked back at Dr. Uley. "I'm going to fight like hell for her, Doc. But I'm prepared to walk away."

Day 31

Bella's POV:

Jacob sat next to me in the back of the plush limo, as we waited to arrive on the red carpet. While he said he agreed to accompany me as my date to the VMA's strictly for a chance to meet Taylor Swift, I knew he had come more as my moral support. After all, he hatched the idea for the crazy plan I was about to execute; he had an obligation to make sure I saw it to the very end.

My talk with Jacob the week prior had definitely provided me with some more insight towards James's plans. I still wasn't exactly sure what his plan was, or why he wanted my next single to fail, but there was no doubt about it now that he had definitely hung me out to dry.

Jacob reached out and squeezed my hand. "How ya feeling?"

"Nervous as hell."

As the week led up to my first big performance for the VMA's, James had little-to-no contact with me. I had received emails and phone calls from his receptionist, simply telling me the logistics for rehearsal times. James had informed Aro and MTV that I would perform Since U Been Gone. What should have been a week full of preparations to help get me back in the spotlight, became a scramble to find my own resources.

If I had any doubts that I was making a bad decision, they were all laid to rest when I went for my final dress rehearsal, and James didn't even bother to show up. I reasoned with myself that had James actually taken the initiative to be a part of my music and come to my rehearsal, then he would have surely known that I decided to change the song at the last minute. Instead, he would just have to be as surprised as everyone else was going to be the minute I went live. I was well aware that by going against Aro and James's orders I could be committing career suicide, but at least I was going out on my own terms. Besides, I was hoping that if Sony decided to drop me, another indie record company would hopefully see my vision and pick me up.

It hadn't even occurred to me how much of my career I was forced to do on my own, until the day before the awards show when I suddenly realized I had never been given a stylist. Luckily, Alice had saved the day for me, and we spent the majority of the night drinking wine and trying on various outfits she had originally picked out for an actress from Gossip Girl. We eventually decided on a black lace, one-shoulder Valentino dress. The dress was the perfect mixture of elegance and sexy. Alice paired the outfit with a pair of black pumps and returned later in the afternoon to do my hair and make-up.

"Alice, I think you've officially turned into my fairy godmother," I told her, giving one last twirl to make sure I was presentable.

"Yeah, well do me a favor – if you see Blake Lively, duck and walk the other way. This is the dress she had her eye on."

We arrived at the front of Radio City Music Hall; a handler opened up the door, informing us where to go first. Jacob glanced over at me and smiled.

"Isabella, you look incredible tonight. Your song is going to be amazing. You've always dreamed of being at the VMA's and now you're performing! Stop worrying and just have fun!" He stepped out of the limo and reached out his arm, pulling me out with him.

Bright lights immediately started flashing, causing me to step back a second for my eyes to adjust.

"If you wanted me to loosen up, you should have let me open up that bottle of tequila in the limo," I said through clenched teeth to Jacob, still smiling for the cameras.

Jacob chuckled. "As soon as we get inside, I'll get you a drink. I promise."

Jacob stepped to the side, letting me walk down the red carpet on my own. I had already decided I wasn't going to do any interviews; I knew who all the questions would be about. I did a few poses for each of the different reporters and quickly moved my way down the line before anyone had a chance to ask me any questions.

Just as I neared the end of the carpet, Jacob slid up beside me, looking anxious.

"Hey, I'm just gonna meet you inside."

"What happened to being my moral support?" I teased. "What's the deal?"

Jacob nervously glanced at a reporter at the end of the line, and then turned his back towards her. "That's Vanessa."

"Vanessa? Your ex?"

He nodded. "I can't face her…not after all those drunken messages I left, begging her to take me back."

"Wait? There was more than one message?" I asked, bewildered. Jacob didn't respond, looking down ashamed. "Oh my God, Jake, please tell me you didn't sing any other cheesy 80's songs?"

Jacob grumbled something incoherent and turned to walk away. I grabbed his arm, pulling him back towards me. "Jake, wait!"

"I can just imagine how pathetic I must seem to her! And here I am, tagging along as your entourage…I just can't, Isabella, ok?"

All the fears that I had for what was to come later that night dissipated as I realized that as much as Jacob was there to support me, I needed to support him too. I clasped his hand and pulled him along with me down the rest of the red carpet.

"You're not my entourage, Jake. You're my date." Jacob shot me a questioning look, but I simply shook my head. "Just trust me."

It was obvious why Jacob was head-over-heels for Vanessa; she was beautiful. Her skin was a golden tan, which seemed to glow against her long, bronze, curled hair. As we got closer to her, she turned and gave me a radiant smile. But the smile slowly slipped off her face as she noticed who was with me; I could feel Jacob tense up. She quickly recovered and turned her attention back towards me.

"Isabella Swan! It's such a pleasure to speak with you! I had heard from the other reporters you weren't giving any interviews tonight."

"I wasn't," I smiled sweetly back at her. "But then Jacob told me he knew you and that you were an excellent reporter. I figured if you were as great of a reporter as Jacob was, then I was in good hands."

Vanessa's mouth hung open as she stared back and forth, trying to make sense of what was in front of her. I waited for Jacob to say something, but he continued to remain silent. He was like a deer in the headlights.

"How do you two know each other?"

"Oh, Jacob's a good friend of mine! He won me over at our first interview. He takes my music seriously and has been a constant source of support – which is exactly what I need for my performance tonight."

"Yes, I'm sure it must be hard performing with everything that's happened recently. Tell us, how is Edward?"

I immediately bristled, even though I knew the question was bound to come up. "Edward's story is his to tell, not mine. I'm sure when he's ready he'd be happy to schedule an interview with you."

"We all saw the heartbreaking pictures of you rushing to Edward's side after his overdose. Are you two back together? Or, is there someone new in your life?" She added in the last question, looking back at Jacob.

"Sorry, Vanessa. After all the public scrutiny I went through these past few months, I've decided to keep my private life private. I'm sure you understand." I grabbed Jacob's hand again. "Well, we better go."

As I turned to leave, Vanessa focused her attention back to Jacob. "I'm a bit surprised you're not on this side of the carpet tonight, Jacob. You used to be interested in telling the story…not being a part of it."

Jacob seemed to regain control of his voice. "I'm not part of the story, Vanessa. I'm just here for Isabella."

The two continued to stare at each other, causing me to feel like I was intruding on something private. I gave a slight cough; Vanessa was the first to break eye contact, glancing back at me.

"Well, I'll let you two get inside." She paused before speaking a bit lower. "You look good, Jacob. You've changed."

"Yeah, well you're the one who told me we all have to move on with our lives at some point, right?" I could see the pain flash through Vanessa's eyes before she quickly masked it. Jacob must have noticed as well; his next words came out barely above a whisper. "Take care, Nessie."

Jacob grabbed my hand and quickly pulled us towards the entrance to the theater. I glanced up at him, unsure of what he was thinking. "You OK?"

Jacob shook his head. "You should have just let me walk past her. I always thought about what it would be like if I got to see her again; believe me, it didn't involve having you make her jealous."

"I'm sorry, Jake. I just wanted her to see what she was missing."

"Yeah, well, it goes both ways."

We entered the lobby where various people were mingling before the show started. I placed my hand on Jacob's shoulder, causing him to stop walking and turn to look at me.

"Jake, go back and talk to her. Tell her how you feel. It's obvious she still has some sort of feelings for you."

He shook his head, turning away from me. "I've told her countless times how I felt. I begged her to take me back. Trust me, showing up by your side at an awards show isn't going to suddenly change her mind."

I opened my mouth to retort but Jacob waved me off, clearly letting me know he was done with the conversation.

"Listen, I need a drink…and I promised you one too. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Hey, maybe you'll see Taylor Swift at the bar!" I said, trying to cheer him up. Jacob just grumbled and walked away.

I really felt bad about interfering in Jacob's love life. I'm not sure what I had intended to happen when I dragged Jacob over to Vanessa; I guess in some sense I figured he'd come out as the victor. But I should have known better than anyone else: in breakups there are no winners.

I glanced around at the different celebrities drinking and chatting with one another. I felt like an outsider; this whole scene was still new to me. Just as I was about to escape to the bar so that I wouldn't have to awkwardly stand alone in a crowd, I noticed B.o.B. waving me over to talk to him.

I spent the next few minutes laughing and joking around with B.o.B. and his entourage. Never, in all of my wildest dreams about performing on the VMA's, did I imagine to be hanging out in a corner with all of the rappers. The irony was not lost on any of us. After wishing me good luck, I walked off to find Jacob.

A hand rested on my shoulder and I spun around to grab my drink from Jacob, but I immediately froze. All the air rushed out of my body, and I was sure that even the slightest wind would cause me to tumble over. I immediately forgot my surroundings, as everything around me faded into the background. I could only focus on the sight in front of me. It was like staring at a ghost. But he was real. And he was right in front of me.

"Edward."

A/N: I know, I know – I left it on a cliffy! But really, I didn't want to drag out the chapter anymore and I felt this chapter was most important to show what each of the characters was doing during the 30 days. This was more about Edward's transformation…but I will admit, after trying to psychoanalyze Edward for so long – I'm SUPER excited to write the next chapter and get these two interacting again!