Not betad.

Prompt: calculate

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It's late. We're lying together on the couch, under a blanket, Bella's head on my chest and my arms around her. She's told me about how she tried unsuccessfully for years to have another child, and about the deterioration of her marriage. Demetri supported her through the miscarriage but as the years went on and no heir was produced, she started to see a different side of him. One that wanted the financial security of a Swan grandchild.

Apparently, Demetri is a poor businessman who has thrown good money after bad at one failed business after another. His own inheritance is running dry and he's relying on the money Bella's parents provide.

"Don't you have some sort of trust fund or something?" I ask, rubbing a hand up and down her back. I feel like I've been doing this for hours, but I don't tire of it and it seems to relax her. Both of us, really.

"I did. Before the baby. It was supposed to mature when I was twenty-one or graduated from college, whichever came first. They decided they didn't trust me anymore and retained control of it. It's theirs and they're under no obligation to give me any. They give me a certain amount to live every month and they bought me the house as a wedding gift."

"So it's their way of controlling you."

"Exactly. Everything they do is calculated. I know they don't want me to leave Demetri and they'll probably cut me off when I do. It'll be their way of trying to put me in my place again. But I won't let them. Not this time."

"And that's why you want to remodel the house. So you can sell it and pocket the money."

"Well, I'll probably have to give Demetri some of it, but I'll happily give it to him if it means he lets me go quietly."

I feel a little overwhelmed by everything she's told me. It's Friday night and it's late and I'm getting sleepy. Still, there's something I need to know.

"How do you know it's you?"

"What's me?"

"How do you know you're the reason you and he couldn't have children?" I don't like to think of her with that asshole, or with anyone who isn't me for that matter, but it's something that's been on my mind since she mentioned she couldn't have children.

"Well, we saw every specialist we could find. There's nothing physically wrong with either one of us, as far as anyone can tell."

"And?"

"And," she says, lifting her head to look at me, "I know it's not him."

It takes me a second to register what she's saying. "Are you kidding me?" I ask through clenched jaw.

"No," she says with a sigh, lying her head back down on my chest. "He blurted it out one night while we were having an argument."

"Jesus, Bella. What the hell kind of men were you involved with?"

"The wrong kind," she mumbles into my chest.

We're quiet for a while and I start to doze off. It's been a long day.

"I wonder sometimes what my life would be like if I'd never gotten pregnant," she suddenly says. "Then I wonder what if I had made different choices and the baby survived."

"Do you think the pregnancy would have had a different outcome had you not made the choices you did?"

"I don't know, maybe."

"Trust me, that would have led to a whole host of other questions. I sometimes wonder where I'd be if I didn't have Mad."

"You do?"

"Of course I do. I'm human, you know," I say with a chuckle.

"I know. It just seems like you're so sure having her was the right thing."

"I am sure. Most of the time. I worry that I can't give her the life she deserves. I sometimes think it was selfish of me to bring her into the world and raise her by myself."

"Why would you say that? She's amazing. You're doing such a good job."

I shrug. "It's difficult for her. She asks for her mother and feels different than the other kids because she doesn't have one. She has no female influence in her life and no female role model. And did you know children in lower income households have a higher instance on childhood asthma? It's true. I've done the research." I don't know why I'm telling her all of this. Maybe because I've never told anyone before and I've been carrying these doubts around for a long time. And it's so easy to be honest in the dark.

"I know plenty of rich kids with asthma who come through the pediatric ward. You can't blame yourself for that. As for the rest, she adores you, Edward. I'm betting she wouldn't trade what she has with you for any other life."

"Because she doesn't know any better. I wonder if she would have been happier if we'd placed her with a nice two-parent family." I've barely ever articulated this thought to myself, never mind someone else. But it's something that nags at me, especially when Maddie asks about her mother or I'm short on patience and there's no one to back me up.

"Stop it," Bella says, adjusting herself so she's on her elbow. Her voice is firm, but her eyes are soft. "I would give anything to go back and make different choices. To leave my old life behind and start fresh with the child I lost. You love her more than anyone else ever could."

"Did you ever consider adoption?" I ask. I'm changing the subject, I know. And I suspect she does too. But she goes along with me.

"Yes, and IVF too, but by the time I seriously started to think about it my marriage had deteriorated enough that I wouldn't bring a child into it. It wouldn't have been fair. I thought maybe once I was on my own it was something I'd consider. Single mothers can adopt from some foreign countries pretty easily as compared to here."

"I think you'd make a great mother," I say. She doesn't respond but she lays back down and I hear her sigh softly.

"I should go," she whispers some time later.

I hum and tighten my arms around her. Even though I know she needs to leave, I'm comfortable and I like having her here.

She untangles herself from me a few minutes later and sits up. "I don't want to leave, but I should."

"Okay," I say, sitting up and running a hand over my face.

She gathers her jacket and purse and I walk her to the door. "Sorry I unloaded on you," she says, biting her lip. "I just wanted you to know."

"It's fine. I'm glad you told me." I rest a hand on her shoulder and run it up to the back of her neck. I very much want to kiss her, especially after everything that happened tonight. But I don't. I can't. As close as I feel to her and as intimate as we've been, she's still married. Soon, I tell myself. Soon.

I lean in and kiss her forehead, lingering just a little longer than necessary.

"I want you to know something," she says after I pull away.

"Mm?" She's looking at me but playing with the buttons on my shirt again. I'll have to make sure I always wear a button-down in her presence so she has a reason to touch me.

"I don't… want something with you because you have something I lost." She looks at my chest, smoothing her hand across the front of my shirt. It feels really good and I have to focus on what she's saying. I'm sleepy and I really, really want to take her to bed.

"You're sure?" I ask, taking her soft hands in mine and resting them against my chest. I'd be lying if I didn't admit the thought had occurred to me after learning about her situation.

She nods and looks up at me. "I can't separate who you are from who you might have been. That would be impossible, especially since I didn't know you before. I only know who you are now. But it's not about a built-in family. I could get that anywhere. It's about you and Maddie. I care about both of you."

I place the palm of my hand on her cheek and she closes her eyes. "We care about you too," I whisper. "And I really wish you weren't married."

She opens her eyes and sighs. "I won't be for long. I promise you."

I nod. "Since this seems to be a night for confessions and truths, I need you to know something."

She nods and swallows nervously as I run the back of my fingers across her cheek. "Maddie always comes first. That's not to say she won't take a back-seat on occasion, but when, if, anything comes of this, I need you to know she's my first priority. I don't know how to balance being a father with being anything else and I'm going to make some wrong choices along the way." This is a long speech for me and I'm suddenly embarrassed.

She surprises me by laughing. "Edward, you sleep on a pullout couch and store your clothes in a laundry basket so your daughter can have the one bedroom. I get it."

"Oh, yeah. I guess," I say awkwardly, taking my hands off of her and scratching the back of my head.

She leans in close to me so I'm pressed against the doorjamb. She's looking up at me with huge eyes and wet lips and I want to kiss her. Just once. Well, once more. A vision of me kissing her and lifting one of her legs and wrapping it around my waist flashes through my mind and I almost groan out loud. Being so emotionally intimate while being physically distant is fucking torture. I need to get that kitchen finished as soon as possible.

She gets up on her toes and places a soft, lingering kiss on my cheek. "I get it," she repeats. "And I wouldn't have you any other way."

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