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When they'd reached her house, he'd gotten out, and slammed the door of her truck, leaving the keys in the ignition. She watched, in the rear view mirror, as he stalked angrily into the treeline. When she was confident he was out of earshot, she let the tears erupt, covering her face with her good hand.
After a few minutes, she pulled herself together, wiping her face awkwardly with her left sleeve. She grabbed the keys, and climbed out of the truck one-handed.
Once inside, she found an ancient, and unopened bag of frozen peas, and gingerly set it over the throbbing hand. The sharp knock at the door made her jump, dropping it. She picked it up, hissing in a breath, as her injured hand jarred against the counter. The knocking became more insistent.
"Bella!"
Edward.
Steeling herself for his anger, she opened the door.
He eyes widened, looking at her, taking in her tear-stained face, the scent of him, the cradled arm. "Did he hurt you?"
"No," she croaked. "I punched him."
Another scent had reached him, and he moved her behind him quickly. "Something's wrong. Wait here. Alice?" he called, and she appeared, "Hey Bella," she said softly, her face wearing the unusual marks of worry. Edward had gone through the house, and returned in seconds.
"Someone's been here," he said, more to Alice, than Bella. "Where's Charlie?"
"At work," she said, confused. "Why? Who's been here?"
"A vampire, and not one we know." He answered, looking at her sore hand, gently moving the fingers. His own felt soothing over hers. He lifted the other one, and seeing the bruises on her knuckles, looked at her sharply.
"What happened?"
"A lot."
"Bella." His voice was dangerously low. "I came so close to violating the treaty. I didn't know if you were safe. Your phone was off." He stopped, his jaw clenched, closing his eyes. More quietly, he added, "please tell me what happened."
Alice interrupted. "I see a cast in your future. Why don't you two chat on the way to see Carlisle?"
Edward looked at her, some silent communication passing between them, and whispered "thank you." Taking Bella by her good hand, he walked her to the car.
"Isn't Alice coming?" Bella asked, looking back.
"No," he said, "she'll stay. Make sure Charlie's safe when he comes back."
Bella nodded, trying not to dwell on who had been there. What could have happened if Charlie had been there. Or her.
Bella jumped when he tried to do up her seat belt. "I'll get it," she said, breathing quickly.
Edward stopped, looking at her, and rested his hands on the steering wheel. "Please tell me what happened."
"I went to see Jacob."
She could see his jaw muscles flexing.
"And?"
She flushed, and then blanched. "I remembered...what happened."
Edward said nothing. He was very still, his only movement a slight nod. He looked...frightened, Bella realized. It was perturbing.
She swallowed. "And then I passed out. He wouldn't let me drive home after. So I punched him."
"You passed out?" He frowned as he reversed, turning at an alarming speed, moving onto the main road at his usual, nausea inducing pace.
Bella closed her eyes, and laid her head back. "Yes. Please. Slow. Down."
The speed decreased minimally. She focused on breathing in, and out, trying to keep the queasiness from becoming more.
As he rounded a sharp corner, she instinctively reached to brace herself with her right hand, and immediately regretted it. The pain was tight and fresh, radiating up her arm.
The smoothing of the road, from gravel to asphalt told her they'd arrived at the house.
When Edward went to pick her up out of the car, she panicked, but kept enough of herself together to not push away with her right hand.
"Put me down. Now. Please." She was trying to breath normally, but it came in sharp spurts. "I can walk."
She was feeling ghostly, hot hands on her body, and the thought of any touch making them real made her shudder. Not Edward's, she told herself. Not the two together. You're just remembering.
"No," she said, feeling him trying to reach out to her. "Just, don't touch me. Please. I can't."
"Can you open your eyes, then, please? So we can go see Carlisle?"
That's right, thought a small detached part of her brain, you have your eyes closed.
She opened them, reassuring herself with the familiar sight of the garage. "OK," she said, her voice nervous and shaky.
"Come on," he encouraged her, "your hand'll be better if he sees it sooner."
She followed him, carefully staying out his arm's reach. He didn't look back, instead listening for the sound of her steps.
He'd waited for this. For the memory to return, and for the worst of the trauma to surface. He knew she might reject him, physically at least. He'd braced for it, but it didn't make it any easier.
Carlisle had started pulling out supplies as soon as he'd heard Edward mention her hand. He felt woefully underprepared for the less tangible damage.
He smiled when she came in, gesturing to a seat by the window. "That," he said, watching her cradle her arm, "looks like a nasty fracture." Probing gently, it was easy enough for him to resolve with a simple cast. "I'll put on a waterproof lining for you, but you'll need it on for a few weeks—which means, no real functional use of that hand—no writing, no driving." Seeing her face fall at this, he said, "Sorry, I know that's disappointing."
A soft silence had settled in the room. The only sound was produced by Carlisle's efficient movements, gently forming the cast.
"Bella," he said, "while you're here, can I check up on a few other things?"
"Sure," she said, keeping her arm still, as he wound the cloth around it.
"Edward, can you give us some privacy?"
Edward opened his mouth to protest, but Carlisle silenced it with a sharp look. "Bella?" he asked, turning back to her.
"I'm...OK, on my own," she said, more than ready for some space. She hadn't forgotten what he'd kept from her. And she hadn't stopped feeling the things her body remembered.
Bella didn't hear anything, but Carlisle began speaking again at some silent signal lost to her human ears. "We haven't really talked about your pregnancy," he said quietly.
Oh, thought Bella. "Are they all—?"
"We're alone. In private."
"OK."
"I wanted to talk to you about your options."
She nodded, absorbing this information. "What sort of options?"
"Do you want to continue with the pregnancy?"
Ah. Those sorts of 'options.'
"I...don't know," she said, feeling a surprising well of emotion springing up inside. "It—I don't know."
Carlisle quietly, and calmly explained the abortion options available to her, and the timelines they operated on.
She shook her head, not able to put words to the confusion of feelings that were swirling inside.
"Then we should talk about your prenatal care."
Shaking her head again, mouthing a quiet, 'no' the tears made fresh lines down her face, and she stood, and walked out of Carlisle's office.
Carlisle had called him to say they could return home, and Edward found her curled up on the bed, perched on the verge of sleep. He didn't call out to her, but let her slip over it, grateful she could at least escape her physical pain.
"Well?" he asked Carlisle, who had come to stand behind him.
"You'll have to ask her," he said, a silent rebuke slipping from his mind before he could censure it. Sorry, he thought at Edward. I can't treat her if she doesn't trust me. This was followed by a whorl of guilty memories, of Bella left, abandoned, by them all—at Edward's request. I listened to you the first time, and it almost destroyed her. I won't second-guess my judgement again.