Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, but Carlisle Cullen owns me.


Working My Way Back to You

Carlisle Cullen's Point of View

Work was miserable. It was a slow day in the emergency room, and many of my colleagues were taking advantage of the reprieve to catch up on paperwork. I had very little to do, and what I had I was doing with painstaking care, trying to draw it out.

Bella was on my mind every second. I knew Alice was working on bringing us back together, but it felt wrong to sit back and wait for her to fix things. Bella was my girl, and though my family was clearly invested in the relationship, it wasn't theirs to manage.

Sitting back and taking things as they came hadn't turned out well for me. I was tired of being inert, tired of letting the others maneuver things while I did nothing. I was inexperienced, but I was still a man, and I knew how to treat my girl properly.

There was a tap on my office door, and the hospital administrator, Dr. Gerandy, pushed it open and poked his head inside. "Carlisle," he smiled.

I glanced up and nodded to him, finishing a page before setting it aside. "Doctor, how are you?"

"I'm in awe, Carlisle," he smiled broadly. "I understand you were chosen by the American College of Surgeons for the Masterson Innovation Award!"

I gave him a benign smile before pulling another page in front of me. "Is that so?"

"This is a very prestigious award! Surely you're not going to decline this one as well?"

"There are others who work much harder than I do. They should be recognized for their efforts."

"Carlisle," he admonished, "these things might not mean much to you now, but you never know where your life will take you. Having an honor like this on your résumé will give you a certain amount of security for the future."

"I have security," I said, filling out the form in front of me.

I could tell the man was getting frustrated with me. He had taken it upon himself, as a man of experience, to take me under his wing and teach me the ways of the medical world. I wasn't usually bothered by his unnecessary mentoring, but the last couple of days had sapped my patience. I was trying hard not to let my polite facade slip away.

"Carlisle, please accept this award. Is it really so bad to spend one night being fed good food and wine, and showered with well-deserved praise?"

"Yes," I smiled softly. "That sounds like my idea of a nightmare." That, along with the photographs that would be taken and the record of my name in medical histories, made it a bad idea. Besides, it offended my sensibilities to accept an award for my work when I had advantages my colleagues did not.

Dr. Gerandy moved into my office, closing the door behind him. He took a seat across from my desk, and his face took on a pleading look. "Carlisle, please. Your modesty is admirable, but I wish you would consider accepting these honors when they're offered to you."

"I have no need of them."

"Maybe you don't, but this hospital does."

I paused, looking up at him. "Pardon me?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "Hospitals with decorated doctors get considered for grants," he said. "This is a small community, with limited resources. Our equipment is old, our facility is badly in need of upgrades . . . and we might have the opportunity for more funding if someone on our staff had a résumé boasting of the awards that you've been turning down."

I sat back in my chair, considering his position. "I see."

"Please," he implored. "Go to Chicago and put up with one night of fawning, for the good of this community."

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. I could always change my name, but I couldn't allow pictures of me to be published. "I won't decline the award if you'll go to Chicago and accept it on my behalf," I told him.

He smiled warmly. "Thank you, Carlisle. It means a lot to us here."

I gave him a quick smile and turned back to my paperwork. "I believe I'll need a couple of weeks off around Christmas," I told him, beginning a new form. "I'm not quite sure of the schedule yet, but I'll try to pin it down for you as soon as possible."

He nodded, though I knew it pained him to give me the time. It was a lot to ask around the holidays, but after all, this was our standing agreement. And there was nothing that would keep me from looking after Bella when she went to visit her mother.

"Let me know when you know your schedule," he said, doing a good job of keeping his frustration out of his voice. He let himself out of my office and left me alone with my paperwork and my thoughts.

Bella. She was always foremost in my mind, but today she was taking over my thoughts completely. I couldn't stand the emotional separation from her, and her murmured offer to the Newton boy the night before rang in my mind. Edward had been exactly right about the effect it would have on me to hear her with another man.

Edward had been right about a lot of things.

I was interrupted from that line of thinking by a page to the emergency room. I tended to a child with a broken leg, and then to a woman with a concussion, and was back in my office with my paperwork by the time my shift finally ended.

I headed back to Bella's house, stopping by a florist on the way and picking up a bouquet of red tiger roses. I smiled as I pulled up in front of the house, seeing no cars other than Bella's truck in front. I hoped that meant my children were giving me this evening alone with her. I appreciated their help, but it was time for me to step up and be the man Bella deserved.

I moved to the door and knocked tentatively, not feeling comfortable entering her house without an invitation. I didn't know what she thought of me just now, and I didn't want to make her feel unsafe in any way.

Bella opened the door after a moment, and her eyes fell on me, looking confused and anxious. "Carlisle," she said softly.

I stepped forward and held the flowers out to her. "I have much to answer for," I murmured. "Will you permit me the opportunity?"

She took the flowers, looking slightly disappointed, and her eyes searched my face. I was frozen, waiting for her response. I needed her to tell me that she would hear me out, that she could see the possibility that someday she would forgive me for the lies I had told her. Every moment of her silence was torture. My entire life hung on her decision.

"I missed you," she suddenly blurted out.

Warmth flooded through me, and I took another step toward her, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. "I missed you too, sweetheart."

Her hand found mine, lacing our fingers together, and she drew me inside with her. I moved with her to the kitchen, where she busied herself putting the flowers in a vase. I got the distinct feeling she was avoiding looking at me, so I waited until there were no distractions. When the flowers were trimmed and arranged in their vase, she set it on the kitchen table and turned to me, her eyes on the floor. She twisted her hands anxiously in front of her.

"I'm sorry I left," she said.

"Ah, my Bella." I moved forward and caressed her cheek gently. "You had every right. If I had been honest with you from the start, the entire situation might have been avoided. At the very least, it would have been less unsettling for you."

She raised her eyes to meet mine. "Emmett came over today. He told me about . . . about your family, and the wolves."

I reached out and took her hands in mine. "Edward has been telling me for a long time that I should share that information with you." I rubbed circles on the back of her hand with my thumb. "I should have listened."

"Why didn't you?"

I sighed and pulled out a chair for her, taking one next to her when she sat. "I was concerned for your safety, and for your quality of life. Did Emmett tell you about the Volturi?"

She shook her head her brow furrowing. "What is that?"

"The Volturi are old friends of mine. They're a very powerful Italian coven, and they have taken it upon themselves to enforce the one real universal law that all vampires must follow. It is imperative to us to keep the secret, to prevent people from discovering that we exist."

She bit her lip. "So, since I know. . . ."

I nodded. "That's right. The Volturi would not be pleased, and I'm afraid they're not a very forgiving group."

Her hands trembled slightly in her lap. "Will they find out?"

"I doubt they will any time soon, but it's always a concern." I reached out and took her hands in mine. "I don't want you to worry about the Volturi, angel. Just trust that I will protect you."

Bella seemed to calm, but she stared down at our hands, not meeting my gaze.

Her reticence left a hollow ache in my chest. This was where my lies had brought us. I slipped out of my chair and knelt in front of her, pressing her fingers firmly in my own. "Bella, I'm so sorry I wasn't honest with you. Can you ever forgive me?"

She raised her eyes to mine and slipped her hands from my grasp, moving them to stroke through my hair. She leaned in and kissed me, so gently and so sweetly that the ache in my chest was crowded out by all-consuming love. I pushed myself to my feet, never breaking the kiss as I drew her up with me. I wrapped her in my arms and held her against me, needing to feel her small, delicate body pressed to mine.

It was bliss, but it was short-lived. Because as I moved my mouth down her neck to taste the sweet flavor of her skin, a horrible thought crossed my mind. She had offered herself to the Newton boy in gratitude for the safety he gave her. When I removed her from her father's care, I had essentially given her the same thing, a temporary safe haven. Could my girl be acting out of obligation to repay some imagined debt?

I froze, my hands stilling on her body. I remembered all too clearly the fear she had experienced when I touched her a few weeks ago, the confusion I had felt when she wanted to push forward physically despite her obvious trepidation. Could she have been forcing herself because she believed I expected it of her?

Unlike her friend Mike Newton, I had not been gentleman enough to decline her attentions these last weeks.

Bella noticed my stillness and pulled back a little, her eyes searching my face. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

I wanted to tell her not to apologize, that I could spend forever kissing her and touching her. But I was sickened by the thought that I was taking advantage of her in her vulnerable state. I slipped a hand up to her cheek, caressing gently, trying to smooth away the anxiety that shone in her features.

This was wrong. I needed to win my girl's heart, not her obligation.

"Bella, may I take you out this evening?" I asked softly.

She looked surprised. "Out?"

I smiled. "The Port Angeles Symphony is performing a tribute to Dvorak. I understand you have a taste for good music, and I thought you might like to go with me."

A smile lit up her face. "Really? You want to take me?"

"There's no one in the world I'd rather be with."

She blushed and looked down, smiling happily. "I'll, um . . ." she started moving toward the stairs. "I'll just go get changed."

"I'll make you something for dinner," I said.

She faltered for a moment, looking back at me, before hurrying up the stairs.