Posted 2020-02-20: With thanks to chaysara for her beta work on this story. I have fiddled with wording here and there in this chapter, so all errors are my own.
Charlie and Bella were waiting outside Billy's house in the car. Bella could hear Sarah's cries inside.
"You're positive we can't go in?" she asked, hands gripping the seat.
"Yes," Charlie said, watching her with worry, grimacing at Sarah's frenzied wail.
They were both on edge by the time the social worker finally showed up.
"Hi, Charlie," an unfamiliar woman called, getting out of her car. "Sorry. I came as quick as I could."
"Thanks, Moira," Charlie said softly. "Can we go in?" he asked, hand gesturing towards the house.
"Yes, let's," she said, frowning at sounds of distress.
Bella walked inside as fast as she could, taking Sarah from a relieved looking Billy, fumbling to get her to the breast as quickly as possible. She was crying herself, anxious and relieved, all at once.
Moira was looking over the paperwork she'd rushed to pick up at the hospital and then at Bella, frowning. She looked at Charlie again, who shrugged by way of explanation. Moira took a deep breath in and then let it out. "Almost eight weeks?"
Charlie nodded.
"Okay," she said. "Hi, Bella. I'm Moira. I'm one of the area workers assigned to your case."
Bella barely spared attention for Moira, giving her a curt nod, trying to hold Sarah awkwardly in her one good arm.
"I need to come have a look at her, okay ?"
Bella looked at her sharply, worried she would try to take her.
"Just look. That's all." She smiled gently. Seeing Bella struggling, she picked up one of the couch cushions, handing it to her, so she could position Sarah more easily.
Bella gave a quiet, "Thanks," but still looked nervous.
"She's just checking Sarah's bruise," Charlie murmured. "She has to."
Moira smiled at Bella and then at Sarah, seeing the small discoloration on her forehead. "How'd she get that?"
"I had her on my chest," Bella said, her voice still husky and raw. "She's getting some head control and banged her forehead on me." She pulled down the collar of her shirt, showing off the matching, yellowish mark.
"Yes," Moira said, "those are pretty common with babies this age." She made a note in her file. "Folks, give us a minute, please?" she smiled at Charlie and Billy.
"Sure," Billy said, jerking his head at Charlie. "Come on." They headed into the kitchen, shutting the door.
"And your hand?" Moira asked. "How'd that happen?"
Bella blushed and sighed. "I hit someone."
"And who did you hit?"
"Edward Cullen."
"And he is . . . ?"
Good question.
"We . . . used to see each other. He's . . . it's—I don't know."
"Understood," Moira said softly.
Bella wished she did herself.
"And why'd you hit him?"
Her face became warmer.
"I do need an answer. I can see this is difficult to talk about."
Bella swallowed, stroking the soft down of Sarah's hair. "Her father died a few months ago. Edward's just recently come back into the picture, and he kissed me," she said, sighing. "It was fine, and then it wasn't, and I was very upset. I shouldn't have—"
"Thank you," Moira said. "It sounds like things have been very stressful."
"Yes," Bella said. "Having my baby taken from me hasn't helped."
"Yes," Moira said, acknowledging her. "This is . . . exceptionally rare." She shook her head, eyeing the case notes. "Exceptionally rare to take a baby this age . . . for this. However, we are obliged to investigate this social worker's concerns."
Moira asked other, easier-to-answer questions and explained in more detail what would happen over the next few days. She invited Charlie and Billy back in after a few minutes.
"So," she began, "if we can schedule things roughly, that would be helpful. Bella, when does Sarah usually nurse?"
Bella's eyebrows pulled together, and she shrugged. "Every few hours, whenever she's hungry."
"On demand," Moira mumbled to herself, grimacing a bit. "Okay. This is probably going to be my only case tomorrow, so, if it's all right with you, Mr. Black, I can make myself available from nine to four tomorrow for supervised visitation."
Bella wanted to cry with relief. She held it back. Just.
"Any time," Billy said.
Charlie nodded his thanks, also relieved.
The rest of the visit passed unremarkably for everyone but Bella, who felt like the clock was counting down on her being able to breathe. She would look at Sarah's sleeping form in her arms, and then back up at the clock. She'd never realized just how loud Billy's kitchen clock was.
A few minutes before four, Bella heard the gravelly crunch of an approaching car.
"That'll be Leah," Billy said, more for Bella's benefit than anyone else's. "She's comin' to spend the night and help out."
Bella nodded, her jaw tight. This was good, she told herself. Billy would need help, even with Sarah in the bassinet by his bed.
When she walked in the house, Leah surprised Bella with a hard hug, taking the opportunity to whisper, "She'll be fine. We'll keep her safe."
Bella nodded, but Leah wasn't done. "Call the stinkers when you're on your way back."
Bella's eyes flew to meet hers, the silent question in them.
"Sam thought it would be wise." Leah shrugged.
"What're you two cackling about over there?" Billy called.
"Girl stuff, Billy. Unless you want to help Sarah nurse?" Leah snapped back.
Billy's face turned a deep, bronzy brown, and he looked pointedly away.
"Why?" Bella asked, her hands tight over Sarah.
"Just being careful," Leah said.
Bella knew better than to ask more, but her hands felt like they were starting to rattle over Sarah. If Leah was here to do more than help . . . what if—she stopped the thought. She couldn't contemplate it, not having Sarah with her.
"Okay, Bella," Charlie said, seeing Moira starting to pack up. "We need to go."
Her heart began to thump loudly in her chest. She couldn't do this. She couldn't leave.
Billy pushed himself over to come beside her. "You know," he said lightly, "when I said I wanted to spend more time with her, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind."
She choked out something that was half sob, half laugh.
Trust Billy to make a joke about this.
So like Jacob.
The band at her chest tightened even more, and the laughter died, leaving only the sob.
"Come on," Charlie said, putting his arm around her. His voice was shaky now too.
Sarah went from Bella's arms to Billy's without protest. "Hi, sweetheart," he whispered. "We'll call this the first of your sleepovers with Grandpa, hey?"
Bella left as quickly as she could, hands tight around herself as they drove home. She only broke her fervent concentration to text Edward. It was beginning to snow, and she focused on the flakes she could catch with her eyes, sticking them individually to the windshield, watching them being swept away by the wipers.
Charlie was dying to ask her why she'd hit Edward, but the careful rigidity of her pose told him it wasn't the time.
When they pulled up at home, Edward's car was there.
Charlie made a low grunt, seeing it.
"Dad," Bella said, "please don't. Just . . . can you keep it to yourself for now?" she asked.
"Sure," he said softly. He was feeling torn up inside, watching her be ripped up by what had happened. If the Cullen boy helped . . . well, he'd tolerate him for her sake If he had to—or now.
Charlie walked ahead, giving Bella some time.
"How is she?" Edward asked, handing her the car keys.
"She's fine," Bella said, pocketing them. "Leah's spending the night."
Edward swallowed visibly but kept his worries otherwise hidden. "Good," he managed to say.
"Why does she need to spend the night, Edward?" she asked him. She almost didn't want to, not being able to stay by Sarah.
"It's just a precaution. We can't be there ourselves, and I don't want to take any chances. I don't think anything is going to happen, but . . ." His voice trailed off.
"I see," she said, breathing out a little. She could live with it being a precaution.
The silence and the snow stretched between them. She stuck her hands into her armpits. It was cold outside.
"Can we talk about what happened this morning?" Edward asked.
Bella's first thoughts in response to this question were logistical ones: did she have time? It was the question she asked herself whenever Sarah's immediate demands had been met. Realizing that her time was her own for now, she blinked twice before answering. "Yes, but let's go inside."
She began walking upstairs to her room, knowing Edward's footsteps were following. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Charlie eyeing them, opening his mouth as if to say something, but then closing it.
"I don't think Charlie's very happy about me being up here," Edward said when they reached her room.
"Not my problem," Bella replied.
"I suppose not," Edward mumbled, looking around the room. He seemed ill at ease.
Bella sat down on the bed, and he joined her a safe distance apart. "I'm sorry for this morning. I shouldn't have kissed you. You were upset, and I didn't intend for that to be the outcome." He sounded a little like he was babbling. "I think you understand how I feel about you."
"Yes, I do," she said.
Edward nodded at her, his face pinched with focus. "Please excuse me for asking what may seem like a question with an obvious answer, but Bella, why did you hit me-I mean, I know why, but why hit me?"
She flushed, embarrassed. "It wasn't exactly a logically planned move, Edward."
"I appreciate that, but there must be a reason. You're not an irrational person."
She closed her eyes and put her hands on her lap. He might as well know now, she thought. There was a stab at the idea. It would mean ending . . . whatever this was. Yes, he might have feelings, but that was no reason to let him have hope for what couldn't be. She needed to be clear, for his sake, as well as her own.
"When you left," she began, eyes on the carpet, missing his small flinch, "I didn't handle it very well. I wasn't . . . well."
Edward nodded. He'd seen enough. It was painful just remembering those thoughts he'd caught from others.
"And Jacob, well . . . he was here for me. He helped me. A lot." She swallowed. "But he wanted more. It took me a long time to let it be more. I warned him about what . . . about what he was getting."
Edward cocked his head at her use of the word, 'warning.'
"I don't think you understood, when you were here before, just how different you and I are," Bella said. "We're not the same."
Edward's eyebrows were still knit together, but he nodded curtly, not agreeing but indicating he listening.
"I think the words I used with Jake to describe me were 'broken' and 'irreparable.'"
"You think you're broken?" Edward finally asked, his tone incredulous.
"I know I am." She shook her head. "Normal people don't do what I did, Edward, when you left. It wasn't . . . healthy."
Edward didn't agree with any of this but looked at her waiting for more explanation.
"And this morning—" she stopped, blushing deeply and sighing—"I couldn't, with Jacob—I couldn't be . . . with him." The flush had run to her hair, making it look lighter than it was against the sudden darkness of her skin.
Edward was utterly confused.
He rephrased what he thought he understood. "You weren't intim—?"
"No," she said quickly, voice raspy.
Edward asked the obvious question. "And Sarah?"
"Just the once," she said very quietly. Her face was hot with embarrassment.
"And this morning?" He wanted to understand the connection.
This seemed easier for her to answer. "I was scared. You . . . seemed so . . . unrestrained. I—"
"I frightened you." Of course, he thought. I was such a fool—!
"No," she said. "I just couldn't . . . I didn't want to have what happened—" and here her tears stopped further words.
Edward was still confused but stretched out his hand to touch hers.
"I didn't want to feel broken—with you," she finally managed to say.
"You're not broken, Bella," he said softly.
She made another derisive sound.
"You're not," he said again. "Did you ever consider that perhaps you just weren't . . . ready?"
"You'd think," she said, "that being prepared to have a child with someone would speak to your level of commitment."
"Yes," he admitted, "to commitment, but not intimacy, no."
She shook her head.
"Bella," he said, looking at her, "you're wrong. There's nothing wrong with you."
She kept her eyes down, giving her head another minute shake. He had no idea. He hadn't been here.
"I love you," he said.
This released more tears.
"There's nothing wrong with you, Bella. Please let me prove you wrong."
She looked up at him at these words. "And how do you plan to do that?"
"Let me love you," he said. "Give us a chance."
Despite the rest from the night before, she was exhausted, and as she looked at his hand over hers—because she didn't dare bring her eyes to his face—she considered what it would be like to be with him again. She tried to remember what it was like before but without success. The thought of such love was stained with the anxious guilt that tugged at the back of every kiss Jacob had given her.
"And if you're wrong?" she asked. "What then?"
"I'm not giving up," he said quietly. "I won't leave you, Bella. I love you. I never stopped, and I never will." There were no qualifiers.
Her whispered "Okay," was a daring leap into the unknown. It carried with it all the guilty weight of worry she'd worn with Jacob and more. She was a broken offering.
He didn't risk kissing her but pulled her gently into an embrace, breathing in the scent of her hair. "You have no idea how happy you've made me," he murmured.
"I hope you don't regret it," she said, her face full of worry.
"Never," he said. "I love you. Get used to hearing it." He smiled.
She let herself give a tiny smile back and looked up at him. It was like walking into a ray of sunshine.
But Edward sighed, hearing a car approach. "Esme's here," he said, squeezing her good hand.
"Why?" Bella asked, not alarmed but surprised.
"She wanted to help, so she brought dinner. She's quite worried about you all."
Bella started to stand, hearing the knock at the door. "Wait," he said gently, "let Charlie get it." She sat down again, looking sideways at him, but hearing the low murmur of voices and Esme's voice, distinctly bounded by the closing of the the door, made her eyebrows rise in surprise. Charlie had invited her in.
"She wanted to mend some fences with your father, and she has for a while now. I asked her to wait, but," he said a little uncertainly, "she wouldn't today."
"It's good," Bella said. "Dad liked her the few times they met."
A thaw in relations between the Cullens and Charlie was taking some of the stress of her immediate concerns away.
"Things will get better, Bella," Edward said.
She nodded but wondered, too, at the many ways they could not, or how much worse they would get before they got better.
DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.
