AN: I only own the characters who are new to you. That's it.

Prologue.

I glanced through the kitchen window, a mug of coffee warmed my hands, an unshed tear threatened to slip down my cheek, and with the variety of thoughts that flooded my mind like a powerful tsunami. My entire body felt numb, and had it not been for the heat that radiated through my hands, I wouldn't have realized I had anything in them.

Everyday was the same.

Sometimes it was easier, but those occasions were few and far between.

I got out of bed every morning, I put on a brave face, but then my life became a blur until I was needed again.

Unless I had some sort of distraction, or a reason to forget about the horrors that plagued my life, then it was seldom I ever moved from the kitchen table.

Five years, six months, three weeks, and six days.

Not a day went by where I didn't think about that horrific phone call, the day I thought my life had ended, and when I began to live a lie that's affected me for all those years.

I tried to think positively, because I was aware that my life could have been ten times worse than it was, but it still didn't make it any easier. I had everything planned out, from the names for any potential children, to the style of my wedding dress. But I only managed to experience one of those things. And that's what gets me through every day.

Ellie was born five years, six months, three weeks, and five days ago. And had it not been for my daughter, my wonderful, beautiful, crazy daughter, then I don't know how I would have survived.

I don't let Ellie see my tears, and all she knows is happiness, but that kid isn't stupid. She knows something isn't right, and she knows there's someone missing in her family. I've told her enough to answer her questions, but also enough to keep her safe.

Ellie is too young to understand what's happened, so she knows her father is no longer around, but she doesn't know the truth. Nor does she know his name or what he looks like.

And there's a reason for that.

The night of the accident, as I repeated prayer after prayer in the waiting room, I was told to prepare myself.

"We're doing everything we can, but his injuries are severe. I don't want to give you false hope, Miss Swan, so it's only right that I prepare you for what might happen."

I don't remember anything else after that.

My father, Charlie, informed me of the events.

How I fell to the floor, I clutched at my hair, and I hugged my pregnant stomach. I screamed, I sobbed, and I begged for answers. I screamed out to God, why he could allow something like this to happen, and I prayed for a miracle. I wasn't an overly religious person, I couldn't say whether I did or didn't believe in God. But, according to Charlie, I was pissed that if there was someone up here, then they weren't doing anything to help me.

Then I went into premature labor.

I was 32 weeks pregnant.

The stress was far too much for me to cope with, and Ellie arrived the next morning.

I remembered thinking that one life had started while another had been taken, and for three days I found it hard to compute the feelings that raced through my head. I love Ellie more than I could even put into words, yet it didn't feel right.

Yet I knew of my purpose, and I knew I had to put my pain behind me in order to be the best parent Ellie could ever have.

Ellie needed to spend a few weeks in the NICU, and as every day passed, and Ellie appeared to be growing stronger, I started to feel hopeful. The doctors said that her father's injuries were improving. He had been placed into a coma, but they were positive he was going to fight through it. I remembered going from one room to another as I sat beside them, and I did everything I could to keep myself strong at the same time.

"You look just like your daddy," I said as I brushed my finger across Ellie's arm. "I hope you have his eyes, his heart, and his ability to love."

Then as the nurses came to check on my daughter, I took the elevator down to the next floor.

"She's doing so well," I said as tears fell down my cheeks. "Do you remember how excited we were when we found out I was pregnant? That time has come, and I know I can't be a parent by myself."

I traced his face with my thumb, and brushed back his hair with my hand.

"Please, Edward," I begged as more tears fell. "Please return to me, sweetheart. We have so many plans. You promised Ellie you'd take her to Disneyland when she was old enough. Don't forget about that. Don't forget about us."

Edward was in a coma for three months, and I started to have horrific thoughts that he'd never wake up. I planned for it to just be Ellie and I for the rest of our lives. My father and Edward's family were amazing, and they offered their support as much as they could, even though they were going through the same struggles and torment that I was.

And then one day, completely out of the blue, I received a phone call.

The doctors were going to try to wake Edward up.

And he did.

I cried, I sobbed, and I hugged my daughter close to my chest.

This was it. The moment I had been waiting months for.

I remembered rushing to the hospital in record time, and I told Ellie over and over that her daddy was coming home. We were going to be a family of three again, and he was going to stick to his promise about taking her to Disneyland. I remembered how Edward's family met me in the corridor, and they all had tear-stained cheeks - even his brother, who often said that crying was for babies. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders, and the air felt light again. The entire town had been affected when they heard about Edward's car crash, but the dark, gloomy cloud was going to vanish. It was going to be replaced with a ray of sunshine, and the idea that all you had to do was believe, and your greatest wishes will come true.

I stood in that corridor with Ellie in my arms, and I thought about what I needed to do before Edward returned home. Would I make him his favorite cake? Should I make a scrapbook of Ellie's first few months so that he didn't feel like he'd missed out on them?

There were so many options, and so many ideas circled through my mind, but then the doctor came out to see us, so I put my planning to the back of my mind.

"You go first, sweetheart," Edward's mother said with a gentle hand on my shoulder. "He needs to see his girls before he sees us."

I wanted to tell Esme that they'd been waiting for this moment as long as I had. I tried to tell her that she should go first, after all, he was her son. But they didn't agree. His sister, Alice, directed me toward the door and said for us to take as long as we needed.

Edward and I had been together for eight years at that point, so I knew him better than anyone, and I knew he wouldn't have wanted to see me cry. So as I prepared myself to enter, I sniffed back the tears, wiped my cheeks, and gave Ellie a kiss on the head.

Then, after I let out a deep breath, I entered the room.

But the dark cloud that was slowly disappearing instantly returned within five minutes.

Edward didn't know who I was.

He didn't recognize my face, my voice, or even my name.

And he certainly didn't recognize Ellie.

The doctors had run tests before I was let into the room, and he knew his name, his date of birth, and where he was.

But he didn't know me.

He recognized the doctors around him because they'd worked with his father since Edward was a little boy.

But he didn't know what had happened to put him into the hospital.

He also didn't know that he was a father.

The rest of that day is now a blur to me, and so were the weeks that followed.

The only thing I remembered was feeling very confused. I was heartbroken that Ellie and I had been forgotten about, and I was heartbroken that the engagement ring around my finger wouldn't get paired with a wedding band, but I also saw a shimmer of light, and an inch of hope. Edward was alive, and he had been strong enough to fight through everything the car crash threw at him. But I was still slightly selfish.

His family and I still held onto the hope that Edward would get his memory back, or that he'd look at my picture one day and instantly remember who I was. But that hasn't happened yet.

Esme and her husband, Carlisle, noticed that Edward's attitude had changed completely, and he was suffering with PTSD, even though he didn't remember the crash at all. He couldn't leave the house between six and eight o'clock at night, because that's when he was driving his car. He hasn't even been behind the wheel of a car since that day, and he can't go on the road where the accident happened.

As well as that, Edward also absorbed a terrible temper. He smoked cigarettes when he felt stressed, he drank alcohol to try and assist with his anxiety, yet he never drank alcohol before, and he'd always been completely against smoking of any kind.

Esme used to have a picture of Ellie on display in their home, yet she had to hide it in their bedroom because Edward didn't like it. He didn't like that he didn't recognize that child, and apparently he didn't want 'random pictures of children' in the house. He hadn't been told about us, because that would only make his anger worse, so that was when we came up with the lie.

Esme, Carlisle, and the rest of Edward's siblings often come to see Ellie, but she doesn't know they're related to her. We decided that it was easier for both Ellie and Edward if neither of them knew about the other until the time was right. I used to call Edward 'Biggie', and he called me 'Smalls', because we first became friends over our shared love for rap music back in the day. So Ellie believes that her daddy is called Biggie. It would be too difficult to keep his real name a secret from her, and she would then ask questions if she put two and two together. It was the same with his pictures. There are times we pass Edward in the streets, especially given how small our town is, so she would instantly recognize Edward as the man in the photos.

How do you explain to a five-year-old that your daddy is alive, but he doesn't know who you are?

And how do you explain to a guy who doesn't remember half of his life, that he has another family waiting for him at home?

We knew the torment it would cause, and unless we were certain it wouldn't cause any lasting damage, we continued to live the lie we'd created.

A sudden knock at the door brought me out of my internal musing. I hadn't expected anyone to come by the house, nor had I been expecting a delivery. But the door knocked again, so I stood up slowly and I placed the cup of coffee down onto the table.

"Bella?" the voice called out from the other side.

It was Carlisle, Edward's father.

I let out a small sigh of relief, to know that it was a friendly face. But then my thoughts quickly took over once again. Why was Carlisle here in the middle of the afternoon? He always rang me first if he was going to come round, so why hadn't I been informed of his visit? I started to panic that maybe something had happened to Edward, so whatever Carlisle had to tell me was better said in person.

And with that fear in the forefront of my brain, I quickened my pace and practically ran toward the door.

Carlisle stood casually on the front step with both hands in his pockets. His gray-blond hair caught the rays of sun, and from the smart sweater and black pants he wore, I assumed he'd just finished his shift at the hospital.

"Hi." I smiled. "Sorry, I…"

I gave up trying to apologize, especially as I didn't know what I was apologizing for.

"It's okay," he said in his gentle, loving voice. "Can I come in? I'm not interrupting you, am I?"

"No, of course not. Come in," I replied. "I need to pick up Ellie in… what, forty minutes? But you're not interrupting anything right now."

I couldn't lie to my family, the people who knew me better than anyone. Carlisle knew that I had most likely been sitting at the table, staring into space, which was exactly what I was doing. If I had said I was busy cleaning, or I was about to go out, he would have caught onto my lie almost instantly.

I led Carlisle back into the kitchen, and I asked if he wanted anything to drink, but he simply thanked me for my offer, and then told me to take my seat. I felt my entire body shake as I completed his request, mainly because he was acting far too formal. Carlisle loved a cup of coffee in the afternoon, and he always accepted someone's offer whenever they asked if he wanted a drink. Why was today different from the others?

"Bella, I need to talk to you about Edward," Carlisle said as he locked his hands together.

"Okay…" I muttered.

"You see, Esme and I have tried absolutely everything when it comes to his care. We've visited and spoken to every therapist and psychologist in the state and onwards, but nothing seems to work. Edward sits there, refuses to talk, and then walks out when the hour is up. He won't even sign his own name at reception, and either Esme or I have to sit outside and wait for him to finish, just to make sure he doesn't run off."

"Okay…" I repeated.

I had a feeling I knew where this was going, and I wasn't quite sure how to deal with it all.

Seven years ago, shortly after Edward and I got engaged, I became a psychologist. It had been my dream since I was in high school, so I worked my ass off to get to where I was, and it felt like the best day in the world when I was offered my first job. The first couple of years were fantastic, and I planned for our wedding at the same time, as well as the names of any potential children.

But then the car crash happened.

My boss was incredible, and he told me to take as much time off as I needed. I focused on myself and caring for Ellie, and I attempted to use my own knowledge to help me get through the challenging days, but my efforts were often futile.

I took an entire year off work, and I only went back when I was ready. I had to have a straight, solid mind in order to help my patients, so I waited until I could have a discussion with someone without drifting off into space. I now work four days a week, but I hope to increase that to five at some point soon.

"Bella?"

"S-Sorry," I said with a light shake of my head. "What did you say?"

A sweet smile crossed Carlisle's face as he took my hands in his. "I asked if you were okay."

"I… well… I mean, yeah, I'm fine." I shrugged. "But I think I know what you're going to say, and I honestly don't know what my answer is going to be."

"What do you think I was going to say?" he asked.

"I think you want me to add Edward onto my patient list. You want me to become his psychologist."

A heavy silence filled the room as Carlisle sat back in his seat and paused for a moment. I could tell that coming to me was a last resort for them, and they wanted to help their son so much that I was their only option.

"This isn't easy, Bella, I know that. But Esme and I feel it might be best if he speaks to someone who knows Edward personally."

"But that's the issue, I don't know him anymore!" I huffed. "I haven't shared more than five words with Edward since the night of his accident, and he's no longer the man I know and love! I'd love to help you, Carlisle, you know I would, but I have to think about myself and Ellie. I have to think about what's right for us. This could ruin me, and I've only just managed to slowly get my life back together again."

"But imagine if this could help things," he replied. "I'm almost certain Edward's memories are there, he just needs to unlock that hidden part of his mind. Why else does he have PTSD when he can't even remember the accident? The brain is an incredibly powerful thing, and, with the right help, I think his memories could come rushing back."

"Yes, and what if that doesn't happen?" I asked rhetorically. "What if this causes me to spiral out of control again? I also have to think about my work, Carlisle, because I'm-"

"You're not allowed to have family members as patients, I know." He nodded. "But I've spoken to Felix, and, given the circumstances, he will allow this. But only if you agree to it. He doesn't want to put you into any challenging situations."

Felix was my boss, and he sometimes felt like a second dad to me. Felix, Carlisle, and my father, Charlie, have known each other for years, maybe even decades, and it certainly helped to have them all on my side.

I didn't know what to do, and I didn't know what the right answer was. Like his parents, I wanted to help Edward more than anything, and I would pay all the money in the world if it meant I could have him back in my life. But was this the right way to go about things? Potentially pushing me back five years, leaving me in the black hole I've already had to crawl out from. Ellie's now old enough to know when I'm upset, and I can't hide it from her like I did when she was a baby.

"How many sessions per week would you be after?" I asked as I stared down at my lap.

"We always start with one, just to see how things go."

"And then?" I asked. "Would you want to have two or three a week?"

"In all honesty, we'd leave that down to Edward. If he wanted to only go once, then we'd respect that."

"Okay…"

Was I strong enough to do this?

Was I strong enough to push my torment to the side and potentially break the lie, if it meant that I could be of assistance?

"I have to think about Ellie," I mumbled a moment later. "You know that I'll always love and care for Edward, but Ellie comes first."

"Of course." Carlisle nodded. "And believe me, this hasn't been easy for us, either."

"One day, when she's old enough, Ellie will know the truth about her father, and she'll understand what happened. But…"

"But?"

I paused to take several deep breaths, and I thought over the abundance of questions that raced through my mind.

What was my final answer going to be?

Did I do this, or did I not?

"But… I want Edward to be a part of her life so badly."

A stream of tears slowly trickled down my cheeks.

"I know you do, sweetheart. We all do. And you won't be alone in this, because no matter what happens, we'll be there to support you, and Edward, through every step of the journey."

I believed him, I really did.

And part of me believed that I could have been the key that unlocked Edward's missing memories.

And maybe, just maybe, we could be a family again.

But I also knew that life wasn't as easy as that, and we often had to fight for the things we desperately wanted.

Could Edward and I be Biggie and Smalls again?

Or did I have to accept that the lie I lived was my life now?

I knew there was only one way to find out.

AN: If you are interested to read more, then please leave me a review. The next chapter will be the official start of the story, but only if people want to read it, of course.