Chapter 1

I wish love was perfect as love itself

I wish all my weaknesses could be hidden

I grew a flower that can't be bloomed

In a dream that can't come true

Fake Love (BTS)


Bella POV

The familiar and intimate way in which she touches his arm, makes my stomach churn uncomfortably and my blood boil in a way that I've never experienced before. A potent mixture of anger and envy surges through me and I watch transfixed as the train wreck of a scene continues to unfold before my very eyes.

God, I wish I had the willpower to look away.

Or the confidence to actually do something about it.

Releasing a sharp breath through my nose, I shake my head slowly.

Jesus, I'm pathetic.

Yesterday after an impulsive trip and makeover in Seattle, I'd felt invincible; sexy even. Now, however, as I hide behind the door to the small kitchen of my café and spy on the man who owns me body and soul, I feel about as worthy as a pebble under his shoe. It's complete madness to think of how quickly that newfound confidence of mine managed to crumble at just the mere sight of him. How I'm still irrevocably in love with him after what happened between us is beyond me.

The woman flutters her perfectly shaped eyelashes flirtatiously, flipping her long blond locks over her shoulder as she leans in closer, whispering something into his ear. She does it with such natural ease and confidence that I almost feel like I should applaud her for it. However, when his perfect, pink lips immediately begin to curl into that crooked half-smile that I've grown to love so dearly, I feel a sharp pain explode through my chest as though he's just plunged a knife through it. Before, I could have handled this. In fact I have handled seeing him with other girls on several occasions over the years and I've been fine, but after that night; that night where all my dreams became reality for one blissful moment before they came crashing down in the next. The knife twists painfully. I should have known that it had been too good to be true. Right now, all I want to do is either scream at the top of my lungs or sink into the ground and disappear. Anything to stop this agony. Anything to distract me from my pitiful excuse of an existence.

My eyes burn, but I make sure to keep them locked on his face. Even at a distance I can clearly see his stunning, emerald eyes sparkle as he glances up at her. Eyes that constantly haunt my dreams. Eyes that right now dance brightly with humor and darken ever so slightly with another intense emotion that I really don't want to acknowledge.

God, I'm going to be sick!

Something clatters loudly against the metal counter behind me, sending a rush of adrenaline through my body. The distraction gives me the strength I need to tear my eyes away from the scene of the crime and return to the present. Biting back a startled cry, I jump and spin around, muscles tense as I search for the culprit. Heaving for breath, I place one hand onto my chest to calm my racing heart as the other leans heavily against the doorframe.

"Angela! What the hell?!"

My longtime friend and coworker fixes me with a pointed and openly disapproving look; one that I've become quite accustomed to ever since Edward moved back to Forks a few years ago. Glancing over at the counter in front of her, I see a small pile of empty baking trays.

Aha!

Rolling my eyes to hide my shame, I force myself to step away from the door and make a beeline towards my tiny office in the back. Unfortunately, Angela isn't ready to let me go. Stepping directly into my path, she forces me to a stop. Folding her arms over her chest, she locks her deep brown eyes onto mine and simply raises a dark eyebrow. Her thick rimmed glasses making her look like some strict librarian, which only enhances the intimidation.

"We have customers, you know," I begin, already knowing what she's going to say and desperate to find something to distract her with.

Her eyes narrow and she purses her lips, but still doesn't say anything.

Shit, the silent treatment might be even worse than her lashing out at me.

She also doesn't move out of my way.

Damn it.

"As your employer, I must insist that you-," I begin, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Bells!" she interrupts, her voice unusually stern.

Fuck.

Nervous energy pulses through my veins, increasing at a rapid pace, making it impossible for me to stand still. Years of therapy fly out the window in a matter of seconds, rendering me completely powerless to stop it as it builds. Drawing my bottom lip between my teeth, I bounce ever so slightly on the soles of my feet, physically unable to keep my body from moving. Instinctively I raise my right hand to drag my fingers through my hair, a calming mechanism I've had ever since I was a little girl. When they slip free far too soon, I'm temporarily confused. Then the memories of my trip to Seattle begin flickering through my mind… the beauty salon, the magazine cover portraying an edgy-looking model with platinum white hair over dark roots, the immense confidence I saw radiate out from her…

Jesus, what had I been thinking?

Luckily, the shock of my overly short hair jolts me back to reality and in the next second I'm able to remember that although I might not be the woman on the magazine cover, I'm also no longer that scared, insecure, little girl who used to be terrified of her own shadow. For years I'd been the girl who needed the long hair and large, shapeless clothing to hide behind because she'd never truly felt loved or accepted for who she was, but after moving in with Charlie... well, things gradually changed. I'd come a long way. Annoyance surges through me at my small relapse and I can practically see Jasper's serious yet steady expression in front of me.

"Say the words, Bella."

Biting my lips tightly together, I take a deep breath through my nose as the tears continue streaming down my face. Wondering if these sessions will ever get any easier, I force my head up and I do what I can to hold his gaze. Then I carefully try to form those incredibly simple, yet painfully difficult words with my mouth.

"I am worthy."

It had taken years and a hell of a lot of hard work, but I'd slowly managed to break out of my shell and had actually begun to really believe those words that I'd struggled for so long to say. I was more and more comfortable in my own skin, and honestly felt ready to take on and meet any challenge that came my way. That was until the infamous Edward Cullen barged back into my life, pulling down every brick of confidence I'd worked so hard to build with just his mere presence. I hated how weak I felt around him; how pathetic and utterly unworthy. With him, it was like I was back to square one. In the presence of the most handsome man in Forks, all bets were off and my hard-earned confidence quickly crumbled to a puddle of mush at his feet.

Inhaling deeply, I call on every single calming technique I know and after a while I'm able to find the strength I need to push back my nerves and calm the hell down. Sighing dejectedly, I rub both hands over my face and feel myself slowly regain some composure.

"I'm not even supposed to be here today," I groan, more to myself than to anyone else.

"And yet almost every morning, at this exact time, you show up without fail."

Desperate for some kind of outlet, I grab the discarded trays and place them back carefully in their appointed spot before I obsessively begin wiping down the counter. Angela unfortunately doesn't let up.

"I shudder to think what time you must have woken up to make it back here in time. Was Leah even conscious?"

Christ, I'm such a fool.

"You know my internal alarm has me up before dawn, Ange."

"Yeah, but the reason for why you chose to come back so soon, when you could have easily stayed an extra few days and treated yourself to a little mini-vacation with your bestie, is what I'm trying to get you to admit to yourself."

I snort, moving over to the sink to wash my hands. I don't need to admit something I've known painfully well ever since I was 16.

"Come on! You've never taken a full day off and you know the reason for it," she shakes her head before continuing.

"Bells, you need to do something about your infatuation with Edward because-," she stutters, looking surprisingly flustered.

I shoot her a hard look.

"Well, because I simply can't handle it any longer."

"Oh, so I'll be doing you a favor?" I deadpan, not even bothering to deny her allegations.

"Yeah!"

The way she enthusiastically nods her head in agreement forces the ghost of a smile to my lips.

"I've said this before and I'll say it again, when the day comes and you finally get up the nerve to mount that hunk of a man out there, I expect you to take a full week off."

My cheeks explode with heat, a normal reaction to her insistent teasing, however, what she doesn't see are the vivid and incredibly sensual memories that flicker through my mind with the subtle strength of a tsunami.

Hovering in that special place just between consciousness and deep sleep, I almost don't register the small movement next to me, allowing sleep to whisk me away. When a large hand suddenly curls intimately around my hip, however, I feel my breath hitch with shock as I'm instantly yanked back to reality with the subtlety of a tank. Before I've had the chance to fully react, I feel a massive wall of heat cover the entire length of my body. My eyes fly open, but I'm only met by the pitch-black darkness of night, making it impossible for me to see. Each of my other senses come to life, searching, yearning.

When two strong hands bury themselves in my hair, pulling my head back, I feel my body immediately melt beneath him in complete surrender. A whisper of his breath washes over my face just before a pair of commanding, yet achingly soft, lips brush against mine, seeking entrance. I welcome him without even an ounce of hesitation, his moan mixing with mine as his hot tongue dips into my mouth with sure and confident strokes. It doesn't take him long to find mine. I can taste the alcohol on his tongue, but can't find it in me to care. This is everything I've ever wanted and more. The way we move together in perfect unison feels like we're two pieces of one whole, and the hot and sensual dance in which-.

"When are you going to make your move, Bells?"

Oh, Ange, if you only knew…

Feeling the hot evidence of my flush burn across my cheeks and down my neck, I quickly avert my gaze and ignore her. I hate how my pale skin so easily reveals my humiliation and I've never been good at hiding things from Angela. However, this time I pray to all that is holy that I'm able to keep my little secret from her. Revealing the best and worst night of my life to Leah, had been painful enough. I don't think I could handle Angela knowing. At least not until I've managed to get over it a little myself, which I don't think will be happen for quite some time.

When the room is filled with a sharp inhale, I feel my heart switch into high gear.

"Jesus, he's the reason for your makeover, isn't he? Is this part of your plan? Are you going to sashay in and steal him out from evil Tanya's perfectly manicured hand?"

This time my eye-rolling is completely for her benefit. Exasperated with her insistence, I move over to my incredibly expensive, but worth every penny, panini grill just before the alarm goes off and pull out what I know is Edward's order. Most days he usually just drops by for a cup of coffee to go, but on certain occasions he takes his time and hangs out at the café for a while. On those days he usually orders my Breakfast Panini Special with eggs, bacon, sausage, and everything you could want from a full breakfast. I was really proud of it. Serving him on those days was perhaps the highlight of my day. The way his beautiful lips would widen with a happy grin and how his entire face would shine with genuine gratitude would always makes my heart flutter wildly and fill me with such joy that I almost couldn't contain myself. Those days are hands down the absolute best days of my life… or they were until she showed up.

A sour taste flows through my mouth and my stomach rolls as I'm reminded of who is seated next to him this morning: Tanya Denali, hot-shot journalist from LA with legs for miles and perfect, modelesque beauty. If her looks weren't enough, the fact that she was Edward's old college sweetheart, made everything just so much worse.

Yeah, there's no way I'm stepping out there today.

"Angela, please. I'm a little upset that you'd think that. I'm the one who wanted a change. I didn't do it for some guy. I did it for me and for me alone," I tell her insistently as I do the finishing touches on his plate.

If I said it confidently enough, perhaps even I would begin to believe it.

"Well, then I am glad to hear it! Girl power and zigazig-AH all the way! And not that you need the reminder, but I meant what I said when you came in today. You look hot as hell."

She sends me a wicked wink, before taking her place beside me, completing the finishing touches on what must be Tanya's order.

"I know this is one of our bestsellers, but I really don't think I'll ever understand how people can eat a salad for breakfast."

The way she spits out the words as though it is something utterly preposterous, manages to coax out a small smile of me, but other than that I remain silent. With a reluctant sigh, I hand her Edward's plate, meeting her questioning gaze with a slow and sad shake of the head. It's clear that she wants to argue over my decision not to go out there, but I'm incredibly grateful when she actually lets it slide. Leaving me to my thoughts, she picks up both orders and walks out into the café without another word. Glancing up at the ceiling, I blink away a sudden rush of tears. I know distancing myself from him is the right thing to do, I just wish it didn't have to hurt this much. Biting my teeth together, I go against every single instinct I have and move in the direction of my office…away from him. The man I've loved unconditionally since I moved to Forks when I was 16 and who, not only doesn't love me in return, but clearly doesn't even know I exist.

Damn it, I'm going to need to call Jasper and set up a therapy session.

ASAP.