A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts.

Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest belong to me. So do all mistakes.

Broken – Chapter 6

"All right." I raked a hand through my hair. "Good morning, everyone. I'd say we got through this one pretty well and pretty quickly. Now, let's review the case reports, make sure we're all on the same page regarding diagnosis, epidemiology, labs, entomology, treatment, and preventative next steps. Then, we can shut this one down and have an afternoon and evening to ourselves in Vegas."

A series of claps and cheers reverberated throughout the round table. Seated to my right, Emmett clapped me on the shoulder.

"And we can finally hit those Black Jack tables?"

"If you want to spend your last full day here losing more money by the fistfuls…" I shrugged and left the rest to his imagination. "However, I've got better ideas for my free time."

For a split second, Emmett's eyes flashed away from me and to my left before returning with an accompanying raised brow and a mischievous glint.

"Such as?"

"Such as a hike around Red Rock Canyon. I've heard it's-"

"Edward, that sounds like a great idea. I love hiking, and I would enjoy seeing the canyons – especialmente contigo," she added under her breath, still unaware I understood every word she said in Spanish. "Would you mind if I joined you?"

Emmett struggled to repress a bout of laughter, and his brow quirked higher as I plastered a pleasant smile on my face and turned to my left.

"Not at all, Maria."

Doctor Maria Ramirez was an interesting woman: a scientist with an impressive background in entomology, which is why she'd been picked as part of the team for this job. Through frequent interactions over the past few weeks since she'd started working for the CDC, I'd learned she was highly intelligent, well spoken, acutely analytical and methodical when required, yet capable of divergent thinking as well. As a hetero male, I hadn't failed to note her exotic, South American beauty: petite, with long and straight Incan jet black hair, matching ebony black eyes, high cheek-bones, full lips, a well-proportioned body, and a husky voice with an accent she somehow made sound…hot. She had a sense of humor, as evidenced by her Spanish, side-quips. And she was nice to boot.

So, it wasn't because I found her lacking in any way that I sighed internally as her red-lipped smile widened into a tooth-sparkling grin. It was, perhaps, due to the complete contrary. I was attracted to her – an available and obviously interested woman.

"Wonderful! I'll come knock at your room door when I'm ready?" – under her breath – "Quien sabe como te encontraré? Or," she added, brightening even further, "do you want to meet at mine?"

But for about a year now, I'd been beyond attracted to someone else - someone whose personality traits and characteristics I'd extrapolated from a solitary and violent encounter over a year ago. She was someone who was way beyond unavailable to me, and who, other than for a five-minute, second encounter in a coffee shop almost two weeks earlier, was so unaware of my existence and thereby uninterested that my strong attraction was ironically comical. Yet, this honestly unknown, unavailable, unaware, and uninterested person was the reason I'd taken this Malaria gig even though, as Emmett correctly pointed out, it was below my team's and my level of expertise. But after that ridiculous, five-minute, coffee-shop encounter, where I realized how sadly one-sided my yearlong obsession with Bella Swan – formerly Bella Hale – had been, I'd needed to get away for a bit and clear my head.

"Why don't we meet in the hotel lobby? I've got to get directions from the concierge and take care of a couple of other things with my account anyway."

And I'd succeeded; I had. I was done with my obsession. If and when I ever had a third encounter with Bella Swan, it would mean nothing. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't even approach her. There would be no need, no reason since she obviously had no idea who the hell I was.

Maria's broad grin faltered before calming back down to a smile. "Sounds like a plan. Just text me when you're ready. Tenemos toda la noche."

"All right, Maria." And with another grin, I turned to Doctor Larsen.

"Doctor Larsen, why don't you take us through the cases, from the beginning?"

"Certainly, Doctor Cullen. Case One: On July 27, a man aged 35 years was admitted with a five-day history of fever, chills, headache, and vomiting. On July 28, P. vivax was identified on a blood smear. The patient recovered after treatment with doxycycline, quinine, and primaquine. The patient is a plumber who reported working outside during the day but who stayed indoors at night. Case Two: On July 25, a man aged 42 years reported to the emergency department with a four-day history of fever, headache, chills, nausea, vomiting, dehydration, and malaise. He was treated with intravenous fluids and discharged with levofloxacin. On July 27, he returned to the ED with worsening symptoms and was admitted with a diagnosis of pneumonia. On July 28, P. vivax was identified on a blood smear. The patient recovered after treatment with…"

Maria leaned close to my shoulder and whispered in my ear. "Edward, I'm really looking forward to this afternoon." She pulled back slowly.

"…The patient is a construction worker who reported working outside. Case Three: On August 18, a man aged 29 years was admitted with a thirty-day history of fever, chills, headache, vomiting, and intermittent sweating…"

After a few seconds, during which I could feel her eyes still on me, I turned and met her gaze.

"Me too, Maria," I whispered in return.

OOOOO

Later that afternoon, Maria met me in the lobby. She looked simultaneously prepared and cute in a high ponytail that kept her long hair out of her face, a fitted tee shirt, short utility shorts, Timberlands, and a backpack.

"Do you have a sunhat and sunglasses?" I asked.

"In my bag," she sang.

"Sunscreen?"

"Check."

"Water?"

"Check, check."

I chuckled. "Then, I guess we're good to go."

Red Rock Canyon was about twenty miles and a half/hour or so drive from the Vegas Strip. We held pleasant conversation on the drive over.

"But Edward, how did you know it was likely Airport Malaria, especially when all the individuals who contracted it had the P. vivax strain common to U.S. cases, whereas p. falciparum is predominant in Asia and P. ovale is predominant in Sub-Saharan Africa?"

I gave her a sidelong glance. "You know your strains."

"I do," she grinned. We sidetracked into a discussion of each Malaria parasitical strain before we returned to the main topic.

"They were all outdoor workers," she concluded, "indicative that they'd all caught it in the same job-related place."

"Yes, they were all outdoor workers, who never came in contact with one another while working, only when they all visited a mutual friend, who had just arrived from Florida, where Malaria pops up in the summer months in the more swampy areas. Unfortunately, he'd carried an unknown, living souvenir in his luggage. But the good news is Malaria isn't running rampant in Vegas."

When I met her eyes for a quick second, her expression was full of admiration. I turned my eyes back to the road.

"Investigation is innate to you."

"I enjoy pulling a situation apart and examining it from every angle, yes."

OOOOO

For the next few hours, Maria and I hiked through sandstone rocks and fractured faults, which got their color from iron oxide - hence the name Red Rocks. We passed waterfalls cascading into the canyon, indigenous roasting pits from when the canyon was home to native peoples. There were petroglyphs and pictographs, towering red cliffs side by side with cactus trees, sage bushes, and Joshua trees. We took pictures of rabbits running after burros and laughed at the hummingbirds circling a big-horned sheep.

We stopped for a protein bar and water break atop a cliff overlooking a circling of desert wildflowers in purples and gold. Beyond the cliff, the sunset transformed the waterfall disappearing into the canyon into a rainbow of colors. Maria and I sat side by side a few feet from the cliff's edge, and as I bit off a piece of my bar and looked around, my mind wandered.

I wondered what she thought of nature. The fucker ex-husband of hers originated from some hick town in Washington; I'd gathered that much over the year. I assumed she came from the same town. I'd heard and read Washington State had some gorgeous mountains and trails, though I'd never been there myself. I wondered if she'd ever taken a hike through one of the trails. Then I wondered if she'd ever been anywhere besides Washington and New York, and if so-

"Edward?" Maria said, breaking me out of my misplaced musings. Her tone made me suspect she'd tried to catch my attention before.

"I'm sorry. I was lost in thought." I offered her a rueful smile.

"I don't blame you," she replied magnanimously. "It is a beautiful, solitary place built for reflection and…" she grinned. "¿Quién sabe qué más con un chico tan perfecto como tú?"

I snorted and dropped my head, shaking it from side to side.

"Maria, I have a confession to make. I probably should've made it earlier, but I didn't want to embarrass you, and then I may have waited too long…"

"What is it?" she grinned.

"I understand Spanish."

"I know you do." Now her tone held more than a hint of laughter, and when I looked up, I couldn't help chuckling at the impish expression on her admittedly beautiful face.

"I should've known you knew. You're an intelligent woman." Swallowing, I sighed. "You're intelligent, fun, adventurous, and…attractive."

"I am glad we are, as they say," she said in her hot accent, "on the same page because I think you are an intelligent, fun, adventurous, and very attractive man…" - she leaned in slowly, black eyes jumping excitedly between my eyes and my mouth, chest heaving - "as I believe I have made quite clear in Spanish if not in English..."

And I remained perfectly still because we were in a great spot, and she was a great woman, with plump lips so close to mine I could feel her breath wash over me. But when I drew in a deep breath, Maria halted for a moment, and a slight frown marred her smooth, caramel forehead. Whatever she saw in my expression made her back up.

For a handful of seconds, we silently held one another's gaze.

"Why am I starting to get the feeling that despite what you just said, we are not actually on the same page?"

"I am attracted to you," I admitted.

"But?" she astutely prompted.

"But, I had some…thing on my mind for a while, and I don't think it would be fair to you to start something until I'm sure I've cleared my head completely."

"You had something…or someone?" she again correctly deduced. Then again, we were scientists. Deducing was what we did for a living.

"Well," she said after a few moments of mutual silence, "I will not say I am willing to help you clear your head of something else nor that I will wait around for you until you are sure you have cleared your head. I respect myself too much for that."

"I'm glad you do," I said. "Yet another trait for me to admire about you."

She chuckled. "However, if or when you are sure you have cleared it, if I happen to still be single, maybe let me know?"

Again, I chuckled at her teasing smile. "Those instructions were a bit complicated."

"As I said before, you are an intelligent man, Edward - además de ser precioso," she added, fully aware I understood. "I am sure you will figure it out."

OOOOO

When we arrived back at the hotel, we took an elevator up to our rooms. When the doors opened up onto the tenth floor, we gave one another newly-awkward handshakes, and Maria went left, and I went right.

But I was restless, pissed off at myself if I had to be honest because what the fuck? What was I doing? Seriously, what the fuck was I doing? I was attracted to her. She was fucking great in…so many ways. Why had I shut that down so fast?

After a quick shower, I went for a run around the Vegas strip to try and clear my head. Unfortunately, I was forced to stop before I got anywhere near my runner's high because holy fuck the desert was hot even at that time of night. So, I went back to my room and took yet another shower. Still keyed up, I texted Emmett.

Em, checking to make sure you're still alive and staying away from them loan sharks.

Dude, I learned my lesson on the loan sharks in Monte Carlo, remember? But I did have a bad streak, so I gave up. I'm back in my room, down some Benjamins, but with legs intact. Where r u?

In my room.

With Maria? ;)

No. Want to go get some drinks?

Maria left already? You two are quick.

She wasn't in my room. We went to Red Rock, came back, she went to her room, I went for a run.

WTF? What went wrong?

Nothing went wrong.

There were a few moments during which I thought he was done. Then the bubbles indicating he was typing popped up on the screen.

Meet me at the bar. You're buying. I'm broke and this fucking trip was your idea.

OOOOO

"So then she said, 'Buy me a drink?' and I said, 'I'd love to, I really would, but you see, I just lost all my money at the tables. But if you want to buy me a drink, I'd be fine with that.' And she walked away from me. Can you believe that?" Emmett chuckled as we both took a drink from our highballs. "I mean, I thought women were all into that now? Buying the drinks, holding the doors open, breaking the glass ceilings."

I quirked a brow at him. "I think most of them are okay with having a drink or two bought for them – and maybe hold a door or two open once in a while as well."

Emmett laughed. "Oh, well. Whatever. We'll be home tomorrow anyway."

"Yeah," I said, staring into my half-empty glass, "Yeah, we will."

"So, tell me what went wrong between you and Maria tonight?" he said after a few more sips.

"I told you, Em, nothing went wrong. We went up to the canyon, had a great time, came back and went our separate ways."

All the while, Emmett shook his head. "Ed, you had that in the bag."

"I don't know what you want me to say." I chuckled and raised my glass to my mouth. "We had a good time."

"Did you kiss?"

"Not that it's any of your business," I said, smirking at him over the glass rim, "but no. Why does every outing between a man and a woman need to be romantic in nature?"

"Not every outing, Edward, no. I'm not that much of a caveman. But she's obviously into you with her 'Que papito chulo' here and her 'Que hombre tan perfecto,' there," he said in his quickly-spoken Spanish. "And as if that wasn't enough, her 'Edward, I can listen to you talk specific strains for hours,''' he said, imitating her husky, Spanish accent and batting his eyelashes, "was a dead giveaway."

"You're an ass," I snorted. "We're both scientists. We're interested in strains."

"Which should've made it perfect!" he howled in amusement.

"I don't know how wise it is to get involved with someone who shares the same exact interests as you. It'd get a bit monotonous after a while, don't you think?"

He stared at me. "Dude, I'm pretty sure I detected interest on your part." When I made no reply, Emmett sighed. "Ed, I know I asked you this recently, but you didn't reply, and I honestly want to know. What. the hell. are you waiting for? This is a dry spell even by your standards."

Draining my glass, I offered him a shrug in reply then signaled the bartender for the next round.

"Edward, I know you've always had an issue with committing-"

"What?" I said, jerking back and shaking my head. "What issue?"

"Not in the player sort of way, no; more in the…dude, you don't let women in."

"'Course I let women in," I disagreed. "I've had a couple of serious relationships."

"Yeah," he snorted, "with the ones who were willing to do all the work. And once they dropped even a hint of hoping you'd take on some of it, they were gone."

"Kate broke up with me, remember?" I hissed.

"Yeah, because once she started showing signs of wanting something permanent, you threw up a brick wall. Don't forget I heard that convo where she wanted you back, and you were like 'hell no.'"

"Yeah, fucking eavesdropper, I remember you heard that convo."

He chuckled but sobered with uncharacteristic speed. "Edward, I know the shit that happened between your parents and Alice's mother when you were a kid fucked with your head."

"Pfft," I said dismissively, sweeping my gaze around the bar. "That was literally a quarter of a century ago."

"Yeah, but those things that happen when we're kids are the ones that stay with us. It's why you don't trust women, and-"

I flashed my eyes back to Emmett, and when I spoke, my words were admittedly sharp and defensive.

"I trust women," I snapped.

"Not completely," he continued, unperturbed by my growing agitation. "On the one hand, you're not sure which one will turn on you, and on the other…the harder they try to prove to you that they won't turn on you, the meeker they become, and the quicker you lose interest."

"What's wrong with wanting a strong and brave woman?" I challenged.

"Nothing at all. I'm just saying there's a reason you want a strong and brave woman. You want the chase but at the same time, you quickly tire of it. It's like you want to trust, yet…you can't."

I stared at him long and hard. When the bartender brought around our next round, I held my glass up at Emmett and grinned crookedly.

"Em, How many of these did you have before I met you down here?"

He pursed his lips. "Zero. I'm broke, remember? Besides, I'm half Latino. Helps me hold my liquor."

I chuckled, drained my glass, and signaled for the next.

"Dude, you're gonna have a serious hangover come morning. Or maybe…that's the whole point. Maybe you're running from something, Edward, and-"

"What the fuck?" I snorted, nostrils starting to flare. "Em, when the hell did you become a head shrink? Maybe you missed your calling."

"Maybe I did," he smirked, and when he caught the bartender's eye, he made the universal hand-cutting-under-jaw signal all bartenders knew.

"Asshole," I muttered, draining my last highball.

"You'll thank me in the morning, white boy," he laughed, wrapping his huge hand around my neck and pulling me off the bar stool. "Come on, let's call it a night."

OOOOO

My brain split open on the plane ride home.

Or, at least, it felt like it did.

Emmett's teasing, taunting, and "I told you so's," didn't help. Nevertheless, there were a few, quick minutes during which he managed to suppress his amusement enough to bring up the previous evening's discussion.

"Look, Ed, I may have overstepped a bit last night at the bar. We were both a bit drunk-"

"Even your Latino half?"

He snickered.

"You didn't overstep," I said before he could resume the forthcoming and unnecessary apology. "You were…you were more or less right," I exhaled, "about a lot of things. I do have lingering issues with the scene I walked in on when I was a kid. I gave it some thought last night, and I see how it's affected my past relationships, yeah. And…I've had someone on my mind, but it's ridiculous, unattainable, and impossible for a myriad of reasons. And yeah, I did push Maria away because of her. But you know what?" I rushed out, grinning crookedly despite all my confessions. "I'm good now. Our talk last night helped me see what I've been doing, and this short time away has helped me clear my head of her as well. I'm good."

"You sure you're good, man?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure."

He scrutinized me. "Ed, you're fucked in the head just like the rest of us. We all have something. Why do you think I use my amazing wit and sense of humor to impress the ladies?"

"Because your father was a total, abusive asshole with you and your mother, and you need to prove you're the complete opposite."

"See? I'm not the only one who missed their calling. By the way, you look like shit," he chuckled. "And that crooked nose doesn't help a thing."

"Fuck you."

I shut my eyes and laid back my head.

OOOOO

Back in New York, I was determined to resume my routine: run in the very early morning, coffee shop in the later morning, and-

And there she was the next morning – the angel from my nightmares.

She carried a laptop around now. For the next few mornings, she sat by the window, a seat which I came to learn was her favorite spot because it had a clear view of the outside and the park across the street. Most mornings, she alternated between working on her Mac and gazing out the window. What was it she'd said more than once?

'I'm easily distracted by a window.'

She enjoyed watching the children at play. Often, a smile would grace her angelic face as a young boy giggled or a little girl shrieked. Then, she'd sigh and return to her work. She also had a habit of biting her fingers – her thumbs mainly, while lost in thought. Then, her face would light up with a bout of inspiration, and she'd return to her work.

One time, as I watched from the other side of the shop, an older couple came in and apparently wanted to sit together by the window. However, all but one seat was taken. When the husband gave his wife the lone seat and stood next to her, Bella stood and smiled kindly at the gentleman. The rest of the conversation I made up in my head based on the scene and gestures which played out across the room:

"You can have my seat," Bella said.

"Oh, I couldn't do that, young lady."

"No, it's fine, really." She waved away the older gentleman's concern and began gathering her things. "I was just leaving anyway." It was a lie because she usually remained in the coffee shop even after I left. Then, she pointed at her laptop screen. "As you can see, I've finished my amazing writing."

"It sure does look amazing. But are you sure you're done?"

"Completely sure," she nodded, smiling softly.

"Aww, thank you, young lady. That's awfully kind of you. There aren't many young ladies like you left in the world. You see my wife here?" the older gentleman said, gazing lovingly at his wife before turning his attention back to Bella. "She was once a beautiful, sweet young woman just like you."

"It's nothing, really, but thank you." Bella grinned widely now and pointed out the window. "And you see those children across the street? I smile at them often because they're sweet children."

The older lady chuckled. "I hope you have twenty like them someday with a man who'll always treasure you and who won't let his dick twitch at another pretty face when times get hard between you two. Look at us!" She gestured between her husband and herself. "We've been together for going on sixty years now."

"Sixty years!" Bella threw back her head and laughed, and God…God. "That's beautiful," she said much more tenderly. "I hope I find someone like that someday too. Okay, have a good day!" She waved at the couple as she headed for the door.

"You too!" they called out as one.

Seriously, what thoughts ran through Bella's head when she looked through that window? I wondered often. What words on her screen consumed her focus so much? Where had she been all this time? Had she been living around here since That Day, all while I'd been abroad? What was she typing? What words filled her creative mind? What world was she creating? Were there viruses and strains and bacteria in that world, or was it a Utopian society?

But then, I'd finish my coffee, stand from my own seat at the back of the coffee shop, and leave without a word or a backward glance.

Because I was past it all.

One time, Emmett finally got his lazy ass up at dawn for a run. Afterward, we ended up at the coffee shop.

"Man, is that what I think it is that Bree designed for you in that coffee?" He leaned in and peaked into my mug. "And are those measurements even humanly possible?"

When I shoved him away, he snickered. "I don't even want to know, and it's not funny," I said as I vigorously stirred the disturbing latte art image out of my drink.

"I'm surprised you keep coming here," he snorted.

"They have good coffee."

Emmett took another sip. "It's good, I guess. But I don't know that it's worth dealing with that massive crush," he chuckled.

He kept talking, but my eyes wandered to the person by the window. And I should've kept my mouth shut. I should've.

"Hey, Em, you remember what my sister did last year. How she came about the fucker she's with now?"

"Course I remember," he said, his mouth twisting in disgust. "You arrived in Costa Rica in a fury – and with a broken nose. For days afterward, it was all you could think about, and I don't blame you. That was some fucked up shit you got caught in the middle of."

"Yeah. Yeah, it was. You remember…" I swallowed, "the woman I told you about? The fucker's wife – ex-wife now?"

"Yeah, she was at the center of it all." His brow furrowed. "Why?"

I jerked my jaw toward the window. "That's her. That's Bella."

Emmett set down his coffee and turned his eyes toward where Bella sat alone, at her usual spot by the windows. Her long, dark hair caught the sun and shimmered like spun silk. Also, as usual, she alternated between typing away on her Mac and biting the tip of her thumb while gazing through the window. Her coffee, black and bitter, went untouched and again as usual, forgotten.

"Oh, shit," he whispered. "That's your baby sister's baby daddy's ex-wife?"

"Yeah."

"The one who caught the asshole cheating with Little Sis?"

"Yeah."

"The one who broke a random kid's phone, the lobby window, your nose, and all while beating the shit out of her then husband?"

"Well, yeah."

"Wow."

"Will you stop staring at her?" I hissed after a few seconds.

Slowly, he turned away from her and back to me, one eyebrow arched.

"What, you're going to stare at me now?" I smirked.

"Holy hell," Emmett chuckled, "where should I look?"

I rolled my eyes.

"She's...beautiful," he said, much more soberly. "I mean, don't get me wrong, your sister's pretty, but…" He shook his head. "The fuck was that dude thinking?"

"I don't think he was thinking with his head," I smirked.

"Or rather, he was, but with the one further south," Emmett snickered. He looked at Bella again. "Then again, she looks somewhat distracted and unapproachable; like she might bite off either head if someone dares come near her."

"Fuck you. She's focused," I said defensively, sweeping my gaze back to her. "What's wrong with that? She's been working on something for over a week now." I frowned. "I'm not sure what it is. Could be work? Answering emails? It's probably a novel. And she's way more than just a beautiful face. She's got substance. She's creative, and she's strong and brave. But she's kind too." I took a sip of my coffee, still watching Bella type away, and then I turned back to Emmett.

"So, when we get to the office later this morning, should we-"

He was watching me, his expression stuck somewhere between fascination…and horror.

"Oh, fuck no, Ed."

"What?"

"Fuck no."

"What? What's going on?"

He pinched his eyes shut and shook his head.

"Tell me you didn't."

"I didn't what?" I spat.

He reopened his eyes. "Is this- is she the 'ridiculous, unattainable, and impossible for a myriad of reasons' person who's occupied your thoughts for the past few months?"

"I don't know what you're-"

"Don't even try to deny it, man." He chuckled, but strangely enough, there was no humor in his chuckle. "We extrapolate, remember? For months, you've been…and the way you just looked at her?" He discreetly jerked his thumb in Bella's direction. "In all the years I've known you, I've never seen you look at a woman that way. And creative, strong, brave and kind? Dude, that's the most compliments you've ever paid a woman in one sitting."

"That's not- I mean, I- Just because I-" With a heavy sigh, I set down my coffee. "It doesn't matter anyway, whatever you're thinking," I shrugged. "She doesn't remember me."

Emmett frowned. "What do you mean she doesn't remember you? Didn't you try to pull her away from that scene in the lobby?"

I returned my eyes to Bella. "Yeah."

"Didn't she break your nose in the process?"

"Yeah."

"Didn't you talk to her in the hospital?"

"She was…sedated, but yeah."

"Didn't your mom threaten to force your dad to cut off Alice unless she and her man dropped the charges?"

"Yes."

"Then, what do you mean-"

"I don't know. I don't know," I said, impatiently raking a hand through my hair. "She doesn't remember me. I brought her coffee over a couple of weeks ago because she didn't hear the barista call her name…and she had no idea who I was."

"Holy fuck. So, how did she react when you told her?"

"I didn't tell her."

"What do you mean you didn't tell her?"

"What was the point?" I asked. "Why bring up those bad memories for her if she doesn't remember me?"

"Uh, so she could apologize for your nose?"

"Why would I want her to apologize for my nose?"

In my periphery, I saw him studying me. "I guess you're right, especially since…look, you know you've got to get over this attraction, or whatever it is, especially if she doesn't remember you. There's probably a reason she's blocked you from her memory."

"There goes Mister Psychiatry 101." I scowled at him. "And you're not even drunk this time."

His ensuing chuckle held a bit more humor. "I'm serious. Dude, if she can't remember you, with all that happened between you, it probably means she doesn't even want to think about that day, especially considering how awfully you described it."

"It was a fucking nightmare," I said, raking a hand through my hair and shifting my attention back to Bella.

"So, she probably wants nothing to do with anything related to it, including with the brother of the woman who stole her husband."

"And who had the baby she always…" I said under my breath while watching her smile at the window.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"The point is, Ed, why would you do this to yourself?"

I panned back to Emmett and snorted. "Do you think I chose to be attracted to the woman my sister fucked over?"

"Sometimes I don't know with you, dude." He leaned across the counter and closer to me. "Look, easy solution: stop coming here. You kill two birds with one stone – no crazy Bree, and no crazy Be-"

"Don't even fucking finish that."

Backing up, he chuckled. "Fine. Fine. You know what I mean. This is the only place you see her, right?"

Other than in my dreams? "Yeah."

"Then that's it." Emmett grinned smugly at his incredibly easy solution. "You find another coffee shop, never see her again, and in a few days, a week or two at the most, she'll be completely out of your system, and maybe Maria 'll give you another chance."

"That simple, huh?" I smirked.

"Yeah, man. It is. Now come on. Let's get out of here. And don't come back," he warned through clenched teeth.

OOOOO

The next day, I sat at the other end of the coffee shop – again. Bella was in her usual spot, and even as I walked toward her and took the empty seat to her right, Emmett's words resounded in my head.

'…find another coffee shop, and never see her again.'

Even as he'd said it, the idea of it had twisted my stomach.

"What are you working on there, Bella?"

Unfortunately, I startled her. "Fuck."

She backspaced the errors which ensued in her document, and I hissed sharply, already full of remorse.

"Sorry. Did I make you mess up?" Instinctively, I moved in closer to the document, and Bella shut the laptop so fast and hard she almost caught my nose. When I turned and took her in, I almost lost my train of thought. Beautiful couldn't even describe her or the way her dark eyes sparkled with indignation.

Nonetheless, when I recovered, I offered her an apologetic grin.

"Sorry. That was intrusive. But what was it?" I couldn't stop myself from wondering aloud. "It looked interesting."

"Uhm, Stranger?" She crossed her arms against her chest. "You're so damn lucky I'm not fond of cops or I'd be screaming my head off just about now. I still might, so this little game you're playing?" She pointed a raw finger at me and moved it around in a circle. "It's at your own risk."

Trust me, I know.

Chuckling nervously, I backed up.

"Bella, I hate to break this to you, but this coffee shop has been my morning pitstop for a few years now, so if anything, you're the…" – I cleared my throat – "uhm, relative stranger here." Again, I couldn't stop myself from asking. "Have you been living around here all this time?"

"What do you mean 'all this time?'"

Fuck. Fuck, I didn't want to remind her of That Day.

"I mean, before a couple of weeks ago, I'd never seen you in here, and as I said, it's been my pitstop for a few years. But you've been sitting here, at this same spot, for a couple of weeks now, typing away."

"Do you even realize you've just admitted to stalking me?" she choked.

Jesus, Edward, I chastised myself. Why the fuck did I approach?

Because…because I could no longer stop myself.

"Once again," I grinned, "as I said, I stop by here every morning. It's not my fault if I notice you. And would a stalker admit to noticing you every morning for the past couple of weeks? Anyway, obviously, I've tried not to bother you, but…I guess I got too curious." I could admit that much.

"You know what they say about curiosity. And apparently, this place is a popular spot, which seems to gather a crowd around this time of the morning," she added with a pointedly raised brow. "So, maybe I've been here all along, for years, and you just haven't noticed."

"Trust me, Bella, I would've noticed," I said softly. But then, I chuckled. "But yeah, it's pretty popular with we who are termed Millennials, and who were born with a coffee cup in hand. So, you still haven't answered me. Do you live around here?"

I was being an intrusive asshole, and I knew it. And if she told me to fuck off, I would.

Instead, she snorted. But when she replied, there was a hint of teasing in her tone and the ghost of a smile in her scowl.

"As if I'd tell a perfect stranger where I live."

I rolled my eyes playfully in return, elated by her playful response.

"I'm not asking for exact GPS coordinates, just for a general vicinity; a hint, if you will, of whether you're within a one-point-five-mile radius of here."

For a handful of seconds, she watched me, and I could see her debating with herself.

"Perhaps. Temporarily," she replied cautiously.

My heart raced. She was providing information, and the greedy fuck in me wanted more.

"What does that mean?"

"I'm sort of house-sitting for a few months. Some old friends of my dad's, a married couple from back home who moved to New York a couple of decades ago, asked me to watch their place for a while. They're both retired."

"Ahh." I nodded and sipped my coffee nonchalantly. "So, they travel a lot?"

"Not in the past, but they're making up for it with a vengeance on a one-hundred-and-eighty-day cruise around the world." She sighed softly, and just from her expression, I could tell how fascinated she was by the prospect.

"A one-hundred-and-eighty-day cruise around the world? Do those really exist?"

"It seems they do. They're visiting something like ninety-five destinations, places like The Panama Canal, Cape Horn, Alaska and the Aleutian Islands, Machu Picchu, Rio, Cuba, Ireland, Japan-"

"You realize you're mixing countries with cities and landmarks, and you're not reciting any of them in any sort of geographical order." I couldn't help laughing. No, she wasn't much of a traveler.

"The point is," she said, lifting her pretty chin high, "it works out conveniently for me and my circumstances."

Circumstances? "How so?"

She didn't reply right away, and while we held one another's gazes, this up close, this calmly, in conversation with no negative tension, no anger, no hostility, I got a good look at those amber eyes with golden flecks that caught the sunlight and shimmered like dark topazes. She had a perfectly shaped nose, and sweet lips, and-

"Well, do you remember that court-mandated therapy I mentioned the last time you accosted me?"

"I wouldn't word it that way," I smirked while my pulse throbbed, "but yes, I remember the court-mandated therapy."

"It was in conjunction with a few other requirements, which thank fuck I've completed. However, the therapy was an eighteen-month mandate. I'm a year in, so I've got six months to go."

Motherfuckers. Those dirty, rotten, fucking bastards. And that poor kid who now had to call them his parents. I still hadn't met him regardless of how often my mom asked me to come over when she had him for a few.

"And at the end of those six months?"

And there went her gaze panning to the windows, to the park, to the children…to a life which was stolen from her.

"At the end of the six months…I'm thinking of moving back home."

I swallowed. Yeah. Yeah, it was probably for the best.

"Where's back home?"

She swept those hypnotic eyes back to me and frowned, one long line marring her perfectly smooth forehead.

"In general terms, of course," I added when she hesitated, knowing I'd already pushed my luck too far.

"Home is the Northwest part of the country."

I quirked an eyebrow.

"Washington State, and that's as specific as I'm getting."

So she did come from there like her bastard ex-husband.

"Why, do your issues with geography prevent you from being more specific?" I teased.

"No. My issues with stalkers do," she retorted on the heels of it.

"Okay, okay," I chuckled. She was quick. "So, you're a small-town girl." I teased some more.

"And? What's wrong with that?"

I put up my hands in mock surrender. "I never said there was anything at all wrong with that. It was just an observation."

"Are you originally from here?"

I nodded. "Born and raised a city boy."

"Hmm," she said.

"And what does 'hmm' mean?" I wondered.

"According to my therapist, it means nothing at all."

I chuckled and held her gaze, hoping her real therapist was better than my armchair one.

"You're intriguing, Bella."

"And you're interrupting me, Stranger. I was just in the middle of a bout of inspiration."

"Yeah, I kinda noticed that. It was fun to watch," I noted, downplaying my interest.

Again, our gazes held, but she blinked away quickly.

"Now, if you'll excuse me. I really do want to get back to this before I lose my train of thought."

"All right, Bella. Enjoy your writing and your untouched coffee. But I warn you; if I see you here again tomorrow, I might interrupt again."

And I would. I knew I would. Fuck Emmett and his shitty advice. He was no fucking psychiatrist.

"And I warn you again," she said, quirking one of those perfectly shaped brows once more, "you're playing this game at your own risk."

Yet…the warning held none of the vehemence her warnings from a couple of weeks ago had held.

"I kind of get that," I said anyway. Because I knew I was playing with fire, and I was the moth. And just like a moth, I reached instinctively to brush a long strand of hair from the flame's face and pulled back quickly.

I had no right. I had no damn right to any of this. Less than no right; I had no chance. What was the point? What was I doing?

I'd stop. Yeah, just like Emmett strongly suggested, I'd find another coffee shop and…stop. And in a few days, a week or two at the most, she'd be out of my system.

I dropped my hand and gave the tablespace between us a couple of smacks.

"Take care," I murmured, infusing the two words with as much meaning as I dared because I intended them to be the last words I spoke to Bella Swan. Drawing in a deep breath from some final reserves deep within my lungs, I picked up my coffee and stood, heading for the door.

"Hey, Stranger?"

My heart leaped into my throat. Swallowing, I turned helplessly back to the flame, toward her voice.

The soft smile that graced Bella's face was directed at me, formed for me, and it sent a burst of heat and…hope rushing through me, extremity to extremity.

"Since you know my name and feel so comfortable throwing it about, and since you've already threatened to interrupt me tomorrow, I should at least know your name; you know, in case I ever need to mention it to the authorities."

I laughed, more at myself than at her words.

"I'm Edward, Bella."

I waited with my heart still in my throat, unable to twitch a muscle. All the while, Bella frowned. When her eyes further narrowed, I drew in a deep breath, equal parts relief that she remembered…and trepidation for what that meant.

"Okay," she said. And waving me off in dismissal, she turned back around and to her writing.

And I stood there and snorted at the ridiculousness of the situation, at the ridiculous picture I'd make to anyone outside looking in – looking through one of those windows Bella always spoke about. Chuckling under my breath at the insanity of it all, I shook my head and made my way toward the coffee shop exit, knowing I'd return for more.

A/N: Thoughts?

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