DISCLAIMER: THE STORY DOESN'T BELONG TO ME; THE CHARACTERS ARE PROPERTY OF S. MEYER AND THE PLOT BELONGS TO DANNYSK.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR LETTING ME SHARE YOUR STORY IN ENGLISH!

¡GRACIAS DANNY, POR DARME ESTA OPORTUNIDAD!

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At that moment James said something and Bella looked away... and there it was, as always, the blush creeping up her lovely white skin as her brown eyes rested on the son of a bitch.

I'm not going to be able to take this Edward thought, I can't tonight.

He closed his eyes pinching the bridge of his nose. It had been a stroke of luck that she had agreed to invite him to the end of the year meeting at work, in fact, that she had agreed to quite a few things. Something had changed with her, and so he didn't want to spoil it by jumping down the throat of that bastard James, but seriously, he was making it extremely difficult for her. As he listened to them, his body felt tense, and his heart was pounding insanely against his chest.

"That son of a bitch," Emmett muttered next to him. Edward opened his eyes and watched as his brother pointed his head at James; Emm was also sizing the guy up for a shroud. Don't let this get to you, unfortunately, he's always been her friend, and he's always been that way with her.

Edward knew that James had been between them for many years, interfering, getting in the way, being a complete arse and if he had been paying attention, he wouldn't be here having to put up with his behaviour. He sighed averting his gaze, God knew he'd already fucked his wife's life up too many times, he couldn't do it with this too, causing a scene with his friend.

"I'll go with Rose, I promised to bring her tequila," he showed him the glasses in his hand, "but I won't be far," he assured as if Edward needed some kind of chaperone.

"Lose it, brother, I'm not going to bite anyone."

Emm rolled her eyes, finally leaving, and as the sound of the music died down as another one began, she could hear the glimpse of the conversation James was having with his wife.

"I'm so sorry. You have to be shocked by all that, but he was a terminally ill patient, you're amazing, I know you did everything you could..."

To top it all off, the jerk was a saint. A saint who came to comfort his wife for the loss of the patient who had died that morning. Edward sized him up again: James didn't seem like a bad guy, even without a hint of selfishness. Edward on the other hand was not, he seemed bad for all practical purposes, and he was jealous and possessive as hell. Minutes later, the son of a bitch was hugging her; the coppery one demanded his inner caveman to shut up, they would have time to howl later. He sighed, crossing his arms, focusing better on how the deep blue dress hugged his wife's pronounced curves, how the back neckline ended right where her pert ass began... She was beautiful, and she was his wife whether that bastard James liked it or not.

O~O~O~O

Bella nibbled on her lower lip as she walked back to where Edward was waiting for her. He was standing at one end of the room, the dark three-piece suit, fitting his enviable physique perfectly, was almost unreal standing there in the crowd, it was also unbelievable that he was at one of these parties for the first time. The brunette sighed as she met his darkened eyes and looked apprehensively at his defensive posture. His hair was dishevelled as if he had run his hands through it a couple of times, leaving it looking so seductive. He wasn't smiling at her either, so nothing good could be there. And the fact that several of her classmates were behaving like stupid schoolgirls around him, passing in front of him with a little too much hip wiggle, only made the whole thing somehow murkier.

She stopped in front of him and traced with her eyes that face she knew so well. That look she had studied for what seemed like a lifetime. Those lips she had spent hours attached to, and that defined jaw covered by a stubble of beard that only made him look better.

"You're angry," she said as her hands began to tangle in that habitual way she did when she was nervous, Edward sighed, reaching out for her, stopping those restless fingers.

"I'm glad you're back." His tone didn't betray that, but if he insisted...

"I'm sorry, I just... you know, it was a bad night last night." She had told him about the terminal cancer patient she had cared for over a month, who had died after trying so hard to prolong his life.

"Yes, I'm sorry you have to expose yourself to so much emotion, honey, I'm really sorry, do you want to go somewhere quieter?" He pointed outside with a nod of his head.

Bella followed his gaze, through her companions and their prying eyes, through the crowd and the lights and balloons, past all that and extending into the garden, they had set up another makeshift dance floor surrounded by tiny lights and flowers, several couples gliding gently back and forth despite the cold, it was an intimate place no doubt, but when Edward started walking in that direction, she couldn't help but stop herself.

"Do you... do you really want us to dance?" Edward shrugged.

"Why not?"

Because that's not how you are, Bella thought but refrained from telling him, he smiled pulling her hand leading them back outside. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Emm and Rosalie dancing, watching them curiously. Rose waved at her and immediately smiled back; she didn't want them to worry. Lee and Samantha, accompanied by James, also watched them. Edward's presence seemed the most shocking thing her companions had ever seen, and it made her furious, perhaps that was why the cold shock didn't even register on her body.

"You're wrong, you know that" he said calmly once they reached the tiny runway as he tugged her waist to pull her close against his hard body. She smelled so amazing that he almost missed her comment.

"With what?" She swallowed, nervous that she was dancing with him, God, it was all so weird.

"I know how you feel right now, about the death of that patient, but you're an excellent nurse." She closed her eyes.

"I'm not," she mumbled through her teeth. "If something happens to them, I always feel like it's my fault, I should have caught the tumour earlier and not until it metastasised and..."

"You're wrong," he repeated, smiling kindly at her. "You're amazing, you've always tried to help people, you've given your all, even with me." He pressed her against his chest and rested his chin on her head. "You're such a good woman... Did you know that?"

O~O~O~O

To feel Bella in his arms was something he would kill for forever; yet she was still somewhat withdrawn, thinking surely of her patient and how she could do more to help him. Something everyone knew was clinically impossible, everyone but his wife. He took a deep breath on his lavender-scented hair, before speaking.

"I don't think you know how good you are, and the blame starts with me again, for a change," he took a deep breath, "thank you for calling that night," he said huskily. Bella pulled away to look at him with a frown.

"What night?" Edward cleared his throat.

"After Angela died..." He shook his head, "I went to my flat and I was going to do something... yeah, something really fucked up. You called me, you asked me to come to your place, remember?"

"Yeah, I don't know how you managed it, you were really drunk and driving a motorbike."

"It wasn't the only time you... you did something for me."

When Bella looked away, Edward knew exactly where his wife's mind had gone. Yes, that night hadn't been the only cliff he'd almost jumped off.

"Ever since we parted, I've said I'm sorry, but I don't think I've ever thanked you for everything you've done." He slid his hands down her small back. "Taking care of me when I needed you, giving birth to my children, carrying a lot of weight on your back, marrying me? So, yes... hum, thank you for everything, you're too good. I admire you more every day."

Fuck, listening to himself he felt like a complete asshole. He had held back so much for so many reasons, and even though it all seemed perfectly valid at the time, how arrogant was that? That kind of reticence where you assume you have time to talk about things whenever you want. Like when you think that the person who stands by your side will always be there. That he would be there himself. The fact that Bella's patient had died so abruptly, even when he had the will to live, was a stark reminder that nothing lasts forever, and time is unforgiving.

Before he knew what he was doing, he leaned over and gave his very stunned wife a soft kiss on the lips. Never mind that she would later lecture him for taking advantage or whatever the fuck it was, giving her a kiss as a thank you seemed appropriate at this moment, here and now. Tomorrow? Well, it was clear that if there was one thing you could never be certain about, it was something like the future. So he deepened the kiss, tangling a hand in her long hair, his skin feeling alive with tingling warmth that spread to his own scalp, toes, and everything in between. When he pulled back, his heart was pounding so hard he wondered if the surrounding tissue was going to bruise, yet Edward noticed that Bella had stopped talking and was looking at him as if perhaps something was out of place: hair on fire, woman's lipstick on his shirt, eyebrows shaved, hell.

He went completely blank. He didn't have a way with words, and the complicated shit in the centre of his chest, the one screaming at him to explain his feelings for her, was making that tendency to muteness worse. The problem, he realised, was that he had no idea how to proceed. Things with Bella had already gone disastrously wrong, and he didn't want to repeat the mistakes he'd made with her again.

So now he just wished someone would enlighten him and tell him exactly what to do or say.

Only 3 chapters left...