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 8

Bella talked to herself.

Well, not so much talked to herself as much as debated with herself out loud – debated words and apparently, their synonyms, to be more precise.

"Uncontrollable, powerful, overwhelming. Hm." In my periphery, I was able to make out a frown on her. "What I need is a word that's a combination of all three."

She bit her thumbnails, alternating between both thumbs when…when what, when the nail was gone? From where I sat next to her on a stool along the counter and against the window, sipping my coffee and trying to keep my gaze from straying to her, I couldn't be sure.

Her breath hitched. "Overpowering."

I smiled to myself, unaware I was nodding my agreement until I was half-nod. It was a good choice, a perfect combination of those previous words. When Bella's thumbs left her mouth and once again came to rest on her keyboard's space bar, they and the rest of her fingers flew across the laptop like the scurrying feet of those small children she loved watching at the park across the street. For the next few minutes, her fingers glided across the laptop and concurrently, her mouth murmured quick phrases of which I only caught every few words. But they were fascinating words.

In fact, the entire process which I'd been fortunate enough to stumble upon about fifteen or so minutes earlier was riveting. Bella was immersed in a web of creativity, artistry, and productivity, lost deep in the bowels of a visionary zone of enchantment. While she created, I extrapolated because this was proof that those less-than-spectacular final articles she wrote for The High Line were an aberration. They were a deviation caused by the mental stress she must've endured during the last few months of a marriage which fucked with her head and robbed her of her gift – but only temporarily. Because what Bella possessed was rare and irrepressible. What's more, watching her work was a gift in and of itself.

Now, the gift appeared to be back in full force.

But then…she stopped typing. Once again, those thumbnails returned to her mouth, and once again, I watched peripherally as she looked up and through the window. However, her focus wasn't on the morning's blue skies or on the fall's ever-changing leaves floating in the crisp breeze. No. Bella was sifting through what I was beginning to see was a considerate mental thesaurus.

"Inconsiderate, callous, heartless…" She bit her lip.

'Selfish?' I offered internally.

It was a struggle not to participate out loud in her creative process, not to spit out a word for her consideration, let her play around with it, see what she thought of it. But, I wasn't meant to be a part of her process – this woman whose husband my sister stole and in the most shameless and heartless of manners; a woman I'd had an opportunity to help out of a horrendous situation, yet whom I'd completely failed. Most importantly, Bella had no fucking clue who I was. I might as well have been a voyeur through one of those windows Bella often spoke of; peeking into a life I had no business being so curious about.

"Selfish," she murmured. "Yes. Selfish!" Her fingers returned to the keyboard.

Snorting, I sipped my coffee, all the while steeling myself for the quickly approaching moment when I'd reach the bottom of the mug. With no further excuse to delay the inevitable, I'd have to do what I came to do: face her and make my confession. For God's sake, I'd just spent the past twenty minutes sitting silently next to her yet completely immersed in her world. She deserved to know why.

And as I prepped myself, I wondered how it would all go down.

'Bella, hi.'

'Oh. Hey, Stranger…Edward,' she'd reply with a smile. 'I remember you – from a week or so ago, and a week or so before that.'

'Yeah. Actually, Bella, the truth is that you and I met long before. I'm Alice's brother, Edward, and I was there that day in the lobby.'

As I spoke, her beautiful face would pale and drain of all color. 'I…you were…yes, I remember you now. You held on to me that day.'

'I was trying to pull you away, but your elbow accidentally hit my nose, and-'

'-and I broke your nose,' she'd murmur. 'Yes, I remember, and I apologize.'

'No, please. I don't want an apology. That doesn't matter. The fracture healed fine, more or less. Either way, that's not why I'm here.'

'Then, why are you here?' she'd ask because Bella was nothing if not direct.

'I'm here because…Bella, do you remember the hospital? Do you remember how you told me you were frightened, and I held your hand and…do you remember the things I told you?'

'Yes. Yes, Edward, I do remember. But…' she'd shake her head, 'why didn't you remind me earlier of who you are?'

'At first, I thought you knew. When I realized you didn't, I wasn't sure how you'd react, and I apologize. I'm still not sure what's going to happen here, but I figured I'd tell you a few things and allow you to decide the rest.'

'What more do you have to tell me, and what is it that I'm supposed to decide?'

And with a deep breath, I'd lay it all out there. 'Bella, I think I'm falling in love with you, and I wanted to allow you the choice of deciding if you wanted to get to know me and…and hopefully, fall in love with me as well.'

The coffee cup rattled noisily when I set it down with a bit more force than necessary. Drawing in a deep breath, I dropped my head and angled it slightly sideways so that I could get one final, undisturbed and undistorted view of the mastermind, one final peek into her brilliance, one last look at that frenetically-energized typing. Then…then that would be it. Because once I said what I came to say, what I had to say, the chances that she wouldn't find me insane were slim to none.

And there she was in full view: dark eyes glazed yet focused, pouty lips slightly parted and prepped to murmur whatever phrases her head dreamed up, brow furrowed in one of those many facial expressions which were windows into her mind. It took me a moment to realize this agonized expression wasn't due to whatever she was typing because she was no longer typing. What's more, her dark eyes weren't on her screen but on the window. Her pouty lips formed no words; instead, her bottom lip trembled.

I followed the trajectory of her gaze directly to the park across the street. As usual, children still too young for school played and ran around, while on the bench in the middle of the park sat a couple of men and women watching them. One woman, who appeared to be in her late twenties, early thirties, bounced a baby on her lap while talking with the woman next to her. The kid's blond curls bounced along with him, fat hands reached high into the air. For a moment, I smiled because he reminded me of my nephew, JJ, whom I'd recently met a few days earlier. He had those same blond curls, a habit of reaching upward with fat hands, kicking with his chunky-

"Oh, damn," I breathed. Was she seeing…?

"Fuck," she whimpered almost silently, answering my question, though I don't think she even realized the quiet yet audibly painful grunt that erupted along with it. So, the words which erupted from me were just meant to distract her.

"An interesting word, for sure, but I'd suggest you stick with 'Selfish.'"

Her breath hitched, eyes blinking successively as if broken out of a trance. Bella's head turned toward me so fast her ponytail swung like a whip.

"We were looking for synonyms to 'Inconsiderate,' weren't we?"

She kept right on blinking, so I swallowed and continued head-on. I'd already admitted I'd been sitting and watching her, but I'd be damned if I allowed that agony to torture her again.

"Man, whatever it is you're writing, it deserves a Pulitzer for your focus alone."

I grinned, and in the next second, Bella seemed to snap out of her haunted daze. Dark eyes on me, she reached out and snapped her laptop closed.

"'We' is too many people, and were you trying to read my stuff again?" She crossed her arms against her chest.

"No. I promise I wasn't," I assured her, determined to reroute her from whatever dark highways her mind had suddenly led her. Yet, how could I do that if I revealed my connection to those dark highways?

Instead, I made a split second decision to allow her to focus her ire on me.

"But seriously, Bella, do you realize how long I've been sitting here next to you without your notice?"

"Is this some sort of cry for help? Do you want me to call the cops?"

The woman was fire personified, and Jesus if I didn't love her fieriness. When I chuckled, it was more in self-mockery than as a reply to her threat. If Emmett could see me now he'd drag me the fuck out of here.

"I was drinking my coffee, and you were so deeply focused, I didn't want to interrupt." That much at least, was the honest truth. "Do you know you murmur to yourself when you write? You debate words. You're pretty loquacious, by the way. You grin. You frown. You talk about galloping horses? You bite your lip, your thumbnails. Honestly, it's…fascinating. I could've sat here all morning."

And just like that, I'd gone too fucking far. I could've, should've left it at the first sentence of explanation. Instead, I'd revealed my fascination without providing any sort of background for where that fascination originated. How fucking insane did that make me sound? And if I did reveal the origins of my fascination, that tortured look, that agonized expression would return.

I cleared my throat and looked away, my mind in an uproar. I glared at the coffee cup and begged it for answers. What the fuck was the correct next step? What. the fuck. was the correct next step? Torment her with the truth? Reopen her wounds and yank her back into the throes of that heartbreak? Maybe…maybe the answer was as simple as just pushing back the stool and getting the fuck out of here before I made things-

"I actually bite the skin under my thumbs and not the nails themselves."

She appeared in my periphery, leaning toward me so closely that when I breathed and inhaled, I smelled the herbal soap I smelled in my dreams. When I dared to look, her dark eyes were on mine, a pair of thumbs held out in the tight space between us, and God, I grinned wide because she initiated this. She initiated this bit of proximity. She sensed my turmoil…and set out to relieve it.

"Ahh." I played along. "See? I couldn't have been observing you all that closely or else I'd know that."

She offered me an impish chuckle. "Pretty gross, huh?"

I shrugged off her inane comment, and as I finally tore my eyes away from hers and to her thumbs, I was pretty sure she couldn't show me a damn thing about her I'd ever find-

Holy fuck, her thumbnail beds were a cringe-worthy mess.

I did actually cringe, and Bella merely chuckled again. Instinctively, I reached for her thumbs, brushing the outer edges of each one lightly with my thumbs. I wouldn't touch the open wounds for fear of the germs she could catch through those minuscule, skin abrasions – diseases, infections, fucking gangrene. Her laughter faded, but I kept brushing the edges of her thumbs, and Bella made no attempt to pull them away from me.

"Honestly?" I murmured, terrified that any word, the slightest movement would end this fleeting moment of trust Bella appeared to finally bestow on me. "I'd be more concerned with the health risks involved with your touching something dirty and getting those fingers infected." I looked up at her and grinned. "Because if they have to amputate your thumbs, how will you write?"

Bella tore her eyes away from mine and pulled her thumbs away from me. Then, she turned back to her laptop.

"I'll be careful. Now leave me alone." She waved a hand dismissively, but there was even less vehemence in her words or her tone than there'd been the last time she'd rebuked me. "You're interrupting me."

I snorted. "I did warn you that I was going to approach you the next time I found you typing away."

"That you did." She side-eyed me and quirked a perfect brow. "And I warned you that you'd do so at your own risk."

"That you did," I breathed. My eyes flashed to the window, where across the street, the woman with the JJ-like baby was saying something aimed at one of the toddlers running around. At the same time, she stood and gathered her bag, her jacket, and hung both off the stroller. She straightened out JJ Look-alike's clothing before settling him into his stroller seat and working those buckles. She was leaving.

In my periphery, I saw Bella's head slowly begin to turn back to the window.

Quickly, I picked up my coffee cup, brought it to my mouth, and when I saw her gaze return to me, I put on a show like it was the best goddamn latte ever even though all that was left in the cup was foam. I grunted after each feigned sip, smacking my lips together in appreciation as I set the cup down.

"Ahh, that's good stuff."

She angled herself toward me. "You enjoy those frothy lattes, huh?"

"You've noticed my coffee preference?" I asked, pleasantly surprised.

Bella sat back nonchalantly, tapping the side of her mouth with her finger.

"It's hard not to notice when…"

My tongue peeked out and swiped along the edge of my mouth, and I laughed at myself when I tasted the sweet, foamy remnant on my top lip.

"Nope. Still there."

She remained straight-faced, but humor danced in her dark, expressive eyes. It made them sparkle like chocolate diamonds. At that moment, I would've given my right foot to watch that humor overspread her entire beautiful face, touch her heart for just a second, provide her with a few moments of levity, of thoughts of here and now and a stupid man playing with his latte rather than memories of a bastard who once played with her heart.

I swiped the back of my hand over my entire face, raked my other hand through my hair and finished off the show by scrubbing both hands up and down my face and blowing raspberries while vigorously shaking my head.

When I pulled my hands away, Bella burst into fits of laughter so powerful she held her stomach against the force of her chortles.

And my entire being hadn't felt so light in…a long, long time.

"Better?" I asked.

She laughed and laughed. "Edward, you're such a damn clown."

'Edward…'

'Edward…'

I swallowed thickly and grinned. "It's good to know you haven't forgotten my name, Bella. For a second there…"

For a second there, I thought she might've even forgotten that much.

I cleared my throat. "So, now that we've ignored the dual warnings and established that I have a fondness for steamed milk while you prefer to stick to bland light roast, no milk or cream, with a shot of hazelnut and no sugar – yes, I have noticed." Fuck it. "And you don't seem to care if it gets cold, why don't we share a morning coffee break?"

"I thought we just did," she said, still laughing though with decreasing mirth as she pointed down at her laptop. "And I'm in the middle of something. My muse is back, and she can be a flighty bitch, so…"

Yeah, Bella; yeah, I've noticed your muse's return.

But despite how much I craved her, her conversation, her proximity, actual permission to be allowed to sit next to her and just watch her create…I'd never do anything to mess with that muse – especially not if it made her forget how and why she'd once lost it.

Nevertheless, I was a selfish bastard, and even as I leaned in closer to her, planned my words, in the back of my mind, I knew how fucked up what I was doing actually was. I was befriending this woman, attracting her, protecting her from her memories yet trying to reel her in all the same without the full benefit of the entire story.

Yet, I was powerless to stop myself.

"Bella…I only interrupted because you looked like something suddenly upset you."

When she shut her beautiful, dark eyes, my heart dropped to my feet. After a quick moment, Bella reopened her eyes and locked them on mine.

"Thank you." Her warm breath washed over me. "Sometimes I get lost in my own head, contemplating possibilities I really shouldn't contemplate."

"Don't we all?"

It was a coward's confession. Even then, I knew it. It was less than I'd meant to give, much weaker than what she deserved. The lightheartedness of a few minutes earlier evaporated as guilt settled into my gut like a lead weight.

What the fuck was I doing?

Through constricted lungs, I drew in a breath and forced myself to back away from her, signaled my imminent departure with a few, seemingly careless raps to the counter space between us. And even as I spoke, I told myself I'd tell her next time. Next time, when she wasn't in the middle of a bout of inspiration, when a woman holding a blond and rosy-cheeked child across the street wasn't unwittingly taunting her, when the memories which haunted her were being held at bay by something, anything, then…I'd make my confession.

"All right, Bella. I sure as hell don't want to be the cause of your flighty muse's flight, so…I'll catch you next time?"

"At your own risk." She smiled because this time, the words were just words, our shared joke and accompanied by none of the hostility they'd once possessed.

"I'm aware," I grinned, heart racing. "Take care, Bella. And don't let your coffee get cold."

"Take care, Stranger, and…thanks for giving this September thirteenth a little bit of merriment."

I felt her gaze on me all the way to the coffee shop's door.

OOOOO

That evening, Emmett and I met at one of our local hangouts. It was a small place by the Seaport, a corner bar a couple of blocks from the river and housed in a building that had been around since colonial days – and looked it. But it was clean, and a couple of times a week, local bands covered pretty good music. We sat at the bar counter and watched the Yankees play against the Red Sox on the large-screen while the band played in a corner, and Emmett and I snacked on chicken wings and enjoyed craft beer.

"So how was the date with STD girl?"

When Emmett drew in a long, dramatic sigh, sucking all the meat and skin off two wings before he answered, I knew it hadn't gone well.

"Maybe that was my first mistake. Maybe I shouldn't have referred to her as STD girl."

"Did you happen to call her that to her face?" I snorted, fully expecting him to say he had.

"'Course not," he chuckled ruefully before looking at me. "But maybe the fact that all I could think of while we ate dinner were STDs kinda took some of the shine off the date-night experience."

"You know the fact that she works with them doesn't necessarily mean she has any, right?" I chuckled.

Emmett rolled his eyes. "It wasn't even that."

"Then what was it?"

He offed a couple of more wings before turning back to me.

"Ed, you know when you've wanted to know someone for a while, and you build that person up in your head." He made a vague, circling gesture around his head. "You make all these wild suppositions and fascinating presumptions on what spending more than five minutes in that person's presence 'll be like."

"Okay," I prompted. So far, I knew exactly what he meant.

"But when you actually sit down and have more than a five-minute convo with that person, it's nowhere near as engrossing or as riveting as you imagined. While she's talking, you're realizing that yeah, she's smart, she's got a great face, she's interesting, and she can probably keep someone else enthralled, but it just ain't you." He finished with a snicker and clicked his beer bottle to mine before pushing it back.

I sat there and stared at him, my own bottle resting on the counter. Emmett side-eyed me and set his bottle down.

"Aren't you gonna drink to that with me?"

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't say I know what you mean."

Emmett's brow furrowed. "What does that mean?"

"Emmett-" Someone clapped my shoulder. When I looked around, it took me a couple of seconds to place the face.

"I thought that was you, but since we only met that one time." The guy chuckled. "Anyway, I was across the bar by myself, toasting to…" he cleared his throat, "toasting to a friend's birthday, and I heard your friend here say your name, so..." He jerked his jaw toward Emmett while simultaneously reaching out to shake his hand. "Jasper Hale, good to meet you."

Emmett held my gaze as he robotically shook the fucker's hand, shooting me one of those, 'Who the fuck is this?' looks.

Meanwhile, the fucker sat his ass on the stool next to me and proceeded to address me like we were long, lost friends.

"So, what have you been up to, Ed? I'm glad I bumped into you. Now, I can tell Alice we hung out together tonight, and…" chuckling, he pushed back his beer, "and I won't have to hear her garbage. You know how women can get. I mean, take that crazy shit last year, for example, right?" Another chuckle.

For a few moments, I simply stared at him. Then, I stared at my bottle. Then, I looked over my shoulder at Emmett.

"Em, how many of these have I had?"

"A couple."

"That's it?"

He nodded.

I nodded and turned back to the fucking bastard.

"Jasper," I spat the name begrudgingly, "did I at any point give you the impression that I looked forward to being on buddy-buddy terms with you? That I'd want to bullshit and shoot the breeze over a couple of beers with you?"

The bastard frowned and blinked successively. He raked a hand through his blond head of asshole curls. Fuck, at least Em's bun had character. Then, he rubbed the back of his red neck, sweeping his eyes around the bar, looking like a lost and confused fish out of water.

"I…uh, I just figured, I mean, it's been over a year since all that went down, and-"

"And what?" I snorted. "And you thought I'd just forget how the fuck I was first made aware of your miserable existence?"

"Oh, come on, man," he protested. "Don't you think you're taking this too far? I can understand you being upset that day, but like I said, it was over a year-"

"Are you- are you fucking kidding me here?" My hand instinctively tightened around my beer bottle. "Never mind the fact that you and my sister rushed out of an elevator looking guilty as fuck, both of you half-undressed while you fucking proceeded to torture your wife for the next fifteen goddamn minutes with your indecision-"

He jumped off the bar stool. "You know what, dude? Never mind. I'll just-"

When I jumped off of my bar stool too, the asshole cut off his rant and took a step back.

"Ed," Emmett said carefully.

"While my sister tortured her with her brand of vitriol," – spittle ejected from my mouth with my growing umbrage – "and your wife took the fall for the shit show you two put on?"

"Bella took the fall because she went nuts!"

The sound of my beer bottle slamming against the wooden counter and shattering reverberated around the bar. The band stopped playing. Up front, the bartender muted the television screen. For a few seconds, the bottle's continued reverberations were the only sound in the entire bar.

"I guess I just went nuts too, you goddamn piece of-"

Someone – Emmett – landed a hand hard on my shoulder and pulled me back. "Edward."

"Fine. You don't want to be friends," Jasper smirked, waving a dismissive hand between us. "I get it. I'll just go back to the other side of the bar and-"

"No, asshole, you won't."

"Edward, don't do anything stupid," Emmett hissed.

I shrugged off Emmett's large paw while holding the other bastard's gaze evenly.

"I've got it, Emmett, I've got it. The asshole's my nephew's father. For JJ's sake, I won't do anything stupid. Go the fuck home, man," I said to Jasper, my upper lip twisting into a disgusted snarl. "The fuck you're doing hanging around bars at this time of night when you've got a woman and a baby at home? Isn't that the perfect little family you wanted? The one you broke your ex-wife for? For my nephew's sake, go home."

With that, I turned my back on him and moved back toward my bar stool. Yet…in the next moment, my eyes narrowed. Seething with a burning suspicion, I swiftly turned back toward the fucker.

"Wait a minute, what the hell are you doing downtown, Jasper? And what the fuck are you doing around here?"

"It's none of your goddamn-"

This time, as I rushed Jasper, Emmett's hand grazed and missed my shoulder. I twisted and tightened Jasper's collar around his neck.

"Fuck, man!" he choked.

"It is my fucking business, asshole. It is my business because I was there."

"Edward, let go of him," Emmett said calmly.

Jasper scowled and held his chin up defiantly; I'd give him that.

"I was there, and I saw with my own two eyes the fucking carnage you and my sister left behind that day. And it's my fucking business because no matter what, the woman who's waiting for you right now is my sister, and even more than that, the kid you fathered is my nephew. So. where. the fuck. were you?"

"I was visiting an old buddy from back home. You want to give him a call?" he hissed through his constricted throat.

"Him? Are you sure we're talking about a 'him?'"

"Man, when Alice said you had no fucking life, she wasn't kidding. Yeah, a him! You want the name, number, address, social security?"

I shoved him away, snickering when he stumbled back and knocked into a couple of girls sitting at the bar, who pushed him away.

"Get away from us!"

I snorted. "Get your ass home, Jasper, before I call Alice and tell her exactly where you are, wasting money at a bar when I know you're not working. I know my sister well enough to know she'll pull them purse strings so tight your balls 'll feel the constriction."

Slowly, Jasper backed toward the door. "Asshole," he spat before turning and walking out.

"All right, show's over!" Emmett roared.

The band resumed. The TV volume went back up. After a few seconds, I drew in a breath, pulled out my wallet, and laid a couple of big bills on top of the bar counter.

"Nick, I'm sorry," I told the bartender, who was already cleaning up the mess of broken glass and spilled beer on top of the counter.

"Ed, I've known you long enough to know you're not usually a troublemaker."

"Yeah. Too bad a moment of frustration and broken glass isn't always explained away that easily. You need help cleaning up?" I asked guiltily.

He shook his head. "Nah, but…it's probably a good time for me to cut you off for the night."

"Probably," I agreed.

Emmett wrapped a hand around my neck. "I've got him, Nick. Let's go, Ed."

OOOOO

Emmett and I reached the end of the block. For a few, long minutes, we stood at the corner, and I gazed up at the half moon, wondering…

"I spoke to her again – today." My breaths swirled around me in a haze of early fall, evening air. When Emmett made no comment, I looked at him and quirked an eyebrow.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Oh, I heard you." He offered me a shrug, his hands buried deep in his pockets. "I'm just trying to figure out what to say in return because I can't fucking say, 'qué sorpresa,' especially after that interesting scene." He jerked his jaw toward the bar. "Edward the Bar Brawler," he snorted.

"The thing is…what you just said about your fascination with STD girl dying down once you got to spend time with her?" I shook my head. "Total opposite for me. The more I speak to her, the more I get to know her, the more I want to know her."

Emmett sighed long and deeply, but not one of those dramatic sighs I was used to getting from him.

"Did you tell her…did you remind her who you are? That you're Alice's brother and that you were there that day?"

I lifted my eyes back to the moon. "No."

In my periphery, I saw him scrub a hand down his face. "You know what I can say? Que mierda. Ed, you gotta see, especially after what just went down in that bar, what bullshit, how dangerous even this game you're playing is. I mean, the way you're acting?" He jerked his jaw in the bar's direction. "This isn't like you at all. Have you even stopped to wonder why you're acting like this? Why you're so…tense?"

"I'm not playing any-"

"Yes, you are," he contradicted pointedly. "If you're speaking to this woman, and you haven't told her yet who you are, you're most definitely playing games."

I fisted my hair and growled. "I meant to tell her today. It's why I went to the coffee shop – to tell her. But then…Em, before I got a chance, something reminded her of that day, and you should've seen her face, the pain in it." I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. "Jesus, I couldn't. I couldn't cause her more of that pain."

"Then why the fuck are you talking to her at all?" he said straightforwardly. "Ed, if you're gonna keep talking to her, you've got to tell her who you are even if it does remind her of that day, especially because you'll remind her of that day, and especially if you're standing here knowing reminders of that day cause her pain."

I said nothing.

"Edward, you're going to keep talking to her, fall deeper and deeper into…whatever this is, allow her to get to know you, and then what?"

I looked at him.

"Then, what Edward? What's the plan?"

I couldn't reply.

"Tell her. Either stay the fuck away from her…or tell her."

A/N: Thoughts?

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