"So he will be okay. But I recommend some form of rehabilitation," the doctor stares down at me.
Holding my arms across my chest I nod, staring at my father in the hospital bed.
He had spiralled to the bottom. I had no clue how bad things had gotten.
He'd fallen asleep, passed out from drinking, not even waking to his house on fire. The entire kitchen and back portion of his small Forks cottage was gutted.
"Thanks," I nod.
"I'll get you some pamphlets," the doctor rubs my shoulder reassuringly before leaving me.
Stepping into the room I try to hold it together. Bandages are wrapped around his arms from the burns, his breath is unclear from smoke inhalation and he looks exhausted.
"Bella?" He croaks.
"Dad," I move to sit in the chair beside his bed, "don't speak: it's okay."
"I'm so sorry," he groans out.
"You're here. That's all I care about," I whisper, "please never scare me like this again. I've already lost one parent."
"I miss her. She died thinking I didn't love her," he looks away from me, unable to face me with the truth, "I let her walk out and then I let her die without knowing I was just as in love with her as when I first met her."
"Dad," I begin.
"No," he looks back at me, "It should have been me in her place."
"I…" I stammer.
"She was my whole world and I let her leave me," he says, "I miss her every minute. I never got the chance to tell her that."
I lean back against my chair in shock. He'd never been this open with me before about my mother. I was a child of divorce. I thought they'd fallen out of love and split to make me happier.
"I'm sorry, Dad," I say, "is this why you're not working. You're mourning."
"I got shot," he nods, "but it wasn't because I wasn't careful. I'm always careful. I just fell down this trap. I think I'm beyond fixing."
"That isn't true Dad," I say, "there's people that can help you. I'm going to organise you going away and getting some proper therapy."
He watches me sadly and holds out his hand. With care I take it.
"I never deserved you," he says, "you're my greatest accomplishment."
If he knew what I'd done he'd be disappointed. But considering no one else on Earth in this moment could feel pride for me, including myself, I take it.
Father's admission had sparked something in me.
He'd missed an opportunity. I couldn't.
I'd secured father a spot at a facility for police officers requiring help. I could barely afford it but because of his years of service they brought down the price.
I'd called the insurance who agreed to fix the kitchen.
But all of it had to wait.
I stroll through Edward's compound, nervous and considering quitting this bold move. I hadn't spoken to him. I'd only texted Rosalie to say my dad was sick. I needed the time to think about this solo. I didn't want any room for error. Forgiveness must be worked for.
"Ma'am?" A security guard notices me.
"Hey," I smile at him, "I'm Edward Cullen's girlfriend. I need to see him."
"He's preparing," he shakes his head, "you'll need to leave."
"You're telling me I can't see him?" I ask disappointed.
"No," he moves toward me.
I take my chances and shove past him, breaking into a sprint.
"Hey! Stop," he shouts after me.
I pump my legs as hard as I can, pushing through doors and looking through windows until I see him. He's outside the building standing my a bus with 'NASA' on it.
"Edward," I cry out.
I'm two floors above him. I have to speak to him.
"Hey," the security guard grabs my arm.
"No please," I beg looking outside, "Edward."
I smack the glass until the guard pulls me away from it.
"I need to tell him how I feel," I plead.
"You don't have clearance to be here," the security guard's face shifts.
He wants to help me. Maybe I can convince him.
"I'm pregnant," I spit out, "he needs to know. Please."
"This way," he sighs defeatedly, "but if I get fired you're driving me to unemployment."
"Deal," I nod.
He looks over his shoulder and ushers me toward a double door.
"Come on," he smiles, "the girl I'm seeing will jump me if she hears I'm helping you do this."
"I'm willing to put in a good word," I say.
We race down two flights of stairs before he shoves open an exit door. Edward's holding a suit case. He's just about to board the bus.
"Run," the security guy motions for me to race across the small lot, toward the bus destined to drive him to a rocket.
"Edward," I call out before breaking into a sprint.
As he turns he looks confused at first, but then He recognises me.
"Bella?" He shakes his head.
I huff grabbing onto his arm.
"Thank fuck," I mutter, "you can't leave yet."
"I need to go," he looks over his shoulder, "what are you doing?"
"I can't let you go without telling you," I pull him toward me by his hand, "I'm so fucking sorry. My dad let my mother die without telling her how he felt. If I let you get on that rocket I'd never forgive myself."
"Bella. Can we just talk about it when we get back?" He asks.
"Sure," I nod, "but you need to know I'm falling in love with you first."
"Sir," the security guard appears behind us, "congratulations on being a father."
Edward looks at me shocked.
"I'm not," I shake my head mouthing to him.
"I never know where the lies start and end," he pulls back.
"He wouldn't let me see you," I shake my head, "it was the only way I could think of getting to you in time."
"I can't trust you. Don't you get that?" He snaps.
"Edward please," I beg, "I'm telling you the truth right now. I lied but I'm not a liar."
"Go home," he shakes his head, "I'll see you when I get back. We can revisit this then."
Watching him get on the bus without a backwards glance shatters me. Holding my chest I watch his bus pull away, tears streaming down my face.
"I'm sorry, Miss," the guard says, "I really need you to leave now."
One month later.
"I just wish you could come back here," Rosalie sighs.
"I can't. I have to be here for my father," I say, "I'm doing okay. I promise."
I'd moved back to Forks for the time being. I needed to be home to help my father. I'd seen through the reconstruction of the kitchen and I'd managed to find a job copywriting from home. It wasn't much but it did the job.
"I miss you so much," she sighs.
"Come and see me," I suggest, "how are things with Emmett?"
"Great," she says, "He's coming with Coops next weekend. He'll be introducing me as his girlfriend. I've gotten every type of kids toy under the Sun. I really need him to love me."
"He will," I insist, "he's sweet."
"Edward really hasn't reached out? I'm so fucking mad at him for leaving you like that," Rosalie sighs, "you made such a sweet gesture. You professed your love."
"Yeah well," I sigh, "at least I tried."
"That's true," she agrees, "he's still a twit. He has made a colossal mistake babe."
"I can't try calling. I have no idea how to reach him," I say, "he would need to reach me."
"If he even dares calling Emmett while he is here I'm going in to bat," Rosalie says, "you might have hurt him but he used your vulnerable moment to get back at you."
The washing machine beeps from the laundry. I sigh and begin to make my way there.
"Oh," I gasp loudly, "ouch."
"Bella? Are you okay?" She demands.
"Yeah. I just got this sharp pain," I say, "it's nothing."
"Go sit down and relax," Rosalie demands.
I begin to turn toward the lounge room. Then I go down.
When I wake up I'm in a hospital bed, connected to a machine.
"Miss Swan," a woman says, "you're in hospital. You passed out while on the phone to a friend who called 911. You're okay."
"What happened?" I shake my head exhausted.
The room is spinning.
Carefully I try to sit up but the nurse stops me.
"We ran some tests. Your friend is on her way," she says, "but miss. We ran some tests and you're pregnant."
Fuck.
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