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

Trying to finish this one up so I can get to the other two, lol.

Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest belong to me. All mistakes are mine as well.

Broken Ch 21

Dark, shapeless clouds hovered in the sky, bathing everything beneath them in lackluster shades of gray. I took in the colorless world outside through the coffee shop's storefront windows, and when I noted the larger than normal raindrops, dripping like oil over a washed-out canvas, the view made total sense to me.

"It's a fitting day."

"Is it? It's a crappy day, the sort of day that makes it hard to leave your bed, but I'm not sure about fitting."

I suppressed a grimace at the mental image that bit of extra information engendered. Though, I suppose it explained why Bella sat across from me, with her gaze on the same window and with the same view, yet failing to see what I saw in the blustery weather. To Bella, it was simply the type of day when lovers laid tangled in the sheets for a bit longer than usual.

"Hmm. Can't say I'd know about that." I felt her eyes on me and turned to meet them. "Though, I assume by that statement you had a hard time extracting yourself today."

Confusion flickered momentarily in her gaze, furrowing her smooth brow. "No," she said slowly. "I was pretty anxious to start the day. Knowing is better than not knowing, right?"

She offered me a faint smile, while I saw the irony; I'd spoken those same words to her a week earlier. While we silently held one another's gaze, I wondered if I'd been wrong. Perhaps, ignorance was truly bliss.

"You haven't touched your coffee," I pointed out.

Again, her brow furrowed, as if she'd expected me to say something else. She glanced down at her full mug.

"Actually, I might order a latte. It's a latte kind of day."

"I'll get it for you," I offered quickly.

While on line waiting to order Bella's uncharacteristic latte, I knew I was delaying, putting off the inevitable, just as I knew there was no point to the delay. I shifted my feet, raked my hair, inhaled and exhaled heavily, restless with the knowledge of what was coming. A stream of images flashed through my head, like a movie reel of random highlights and lowlights from Bella's and my rocky relationship:

'I got distracted with the view from her window.'

'You painted that so perfectly, I can practically see it.'

'Jasper, you fucking bastard!'

'I've got you, Bella.'

'They lied to me!'

"I know, but I've got you.'

'I have a love/hate relationship with windows.'

'I suppose there's a false sense of privacy when you're behind a window.'

'You're playing with fire, Stranger.'

'I know I am, Bella.'

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

'Tell me what you do, Stranger, that leaves you with time for daily morning runs followed by people-watching in coffee shops, and interspersed with learning novice latte-design tricks?'

'Edward, you're like the James Bond- no; better yet, you're the Jack Ryan of viruses and diseases.'

'I've always wanted to travel.'

'Then, someday, you will.'

'Before our running partnership continues, I thought you should know I'm not all sunshine and roses.'

'I know that. And guess what? Neither am I.'

'Edward, explain to me your runner's high.'

'Bella, you are my runner's high lately.'

'Edward, if you ever need someone to talk to, really talk to…I mean, sometimes, it seems like you've got a lot of stuff on your mind…'

'You're one of the good guys, Edward…'

'Edward, how is it that you get me so well?'

'Asshole, the next time you call, text, or try to make any sort of contact with me, you'll regret it.'

'Edward, I can't do this! You're her brother!'

'I'm so sorry. From the very beginning, I meant to tell you…'

'Goodbye, Edward…'

'Goodbye, Bella…'

Then, a year later…that chance encounter at a restaurant, while she was on a date, and a text exchange a week later:

'Hi Edward, it's Bella. I know it's been a while, and I know the last time we spoke…there were things you wanted to tell me, and I think I'm ready to listen…so we could both get some closure…'

'If your database is mixed up, let me help you sort through it. And then…it'll be completely up to you how you want to organize those files...'

So, here we were: a few meetings later, and preparing to discuss that last piece of data.

As I moved forward in line, I looked over at her, sitting at our table and gazing through those rainy windows - windows which always brought Bella either joy or heartache, never anything in between. Despite everything, the look of eternal wonder on her beautiful face as she examined the view made me smile. She must've sensed my eyes on her because she turned away from the window and met my gaze. For one, long moment, we simply smiled wistfully at one another.

"Sir, can I take your order?"

Blinking away from Bella, I placed her order with the young, professional barista, who at some point in the past year, took Bree's place. In under a minute, she had my mug of coffee and a small pitcher of milk ready. With no further excuses or delays, I returned to the table.

"What's wrong, Edward?" Bella asked, thanking me for the latte but otherwise ignoring it.

I shrugged and offered her what I knew was a weak excuse.

"It was a long week."

"You just got in this morning, right?"

"Yeah." I stared past her at the windows, where the raindrops pelted all the harder now until, in my periphery, I saw Bella lean in closer, waiting for me to meet her eyes. This time, she offered me an apologetic smile.

"We really could've rescheduled."

"No point in delaying, is there?"

"Have you slept at all?"

"I slept on the train a bit, Bella." Sighing, I raked my hair yet again. "I'm fine."

She backed up, still scrutinizing me as she inattentively swirled her spoon in her coffee.

"You know," I said, raising a brow, "it's not actually a latte until you add the milk."

A mischievous spark lit up her eyes.

"Ahh." She nodded slowly. "That's right; in addition to being an Upper-East-Side-Prep-School hip-hop artist and a James Bond-slash-Jack-Ryan-type disease eradicator, you were also once a latte artist."

Despite everything, I chuckled heartily at her descriptions, stupidly warmed by the fact that she remembered all those old conversations…all those old moments together.

"Do you still practice your latte art?"

"Bella Swan," I snorted, "you rarely say or act how I expect you to."

"I'm not sure what you're expecting today, Edward."

"Not a discussion on latte art. And no, I haven't practiced the art," I smirked, "not in a while."

She grinned impishly before picking up her coffee mug and her small pitcher of milk.

"Let's see."

It was true; I hadn't attempted a latte design since the last time Bella and I had coffee before our one year hiatus. Even then, I'd been pretty shitty at it, but Bella would laugh openly, throw back her head in amusement, shriek in feigned horror at the poor images which ensued. And I would've attempted them every single day for the rest of my life to observe her reaction.

However, apparently Bella had been paying more attention to the design which ensued rather than to how I prepared the design. Her steps were all wrong. Though she held the cup at an angle while balancing the pitcher above it, she poured too quickly and shifted the milk pitcher around erratically. The result, however, was one of the most hilarious latte design images I'd ever seen.

I laughed loudly. "I would've never expected that of you, Bella," I said when I could finally speak.

Her cheeks were bright red, partly embarrassment, but I could tell she was amused as well.

"I swear that's not what I was going for. I don't even know how that happened."

"Mhm," I mumbled teasingly.

"Edward, if I was going to purposely draw a penis, I'd draw a bigger one. That thing is tiny."

I dropped my head, snickering as I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Bella, Bella."

"Hey," she said, and I could hear the feigned indignation in her tone, "you were the artist back then. I was merely the admirer."

My head shot up. "I was the artist, you were the admirer," I echoed, shaking my head. "You have that so backward. And from the little I know of you, you're still the creative one."

All of a sudden, Bella flinched as if I'd reached out and hit her.

"What is it?" I breathed in horror.

"Nothing. Actually," she swallowed, "speaking of creativity, I received an interesting phone call yesterday."

"Oh, yeah?" I asked, though my mind was still reeling from her reaction to my previous statement. Why had she acted as if she was hurt by my choice of words?

"So, I've got this agent. Her name is Jessica Stanley. She's been my agent for about a year, and she's pretty much gotten me nowhere," she chuckled.

"Then why do you keep her around?" I offered her a bemused smile.

"Because she's ferocious, Edward, and she talks like she knows she's going to make me famous someday. And…I don't know. She just seems so confident in my work."

"Then, I love her taste."

She smiled softly. "Anyway, I hadn't heard from her in a while, and then all of a sudden, she calls me up and she says she's got something great lined up for me for tomorrow."

"And?" I smiled, my anticipation building.

"And…that's it," Bella chuckled, shrugging. "She didn't give me much more information than that, but according to her, I better be ready to go places." She finished with an eye roll.

However, I was almost bursting with second-hand pride.

"Jesus, that's great, Bella. I knew it would happen for you. I always knew it."

"What was that bit of philosophy the peer-ahh-goo-ahh guy imparted to you once? 'The good days disappear, and the cold days arrive, but with a little luck and patience, the good days return, even if they take a while in doing so.'

I swallowed. "Yeah. Yeah, that was basically it. These are definitely your good days, Bella. Your great days and you deserve every single one of them."

Bella snorted. "Don't get too carried away, Edward. Though I'll confess I am excited, even more so than I let on with my friends, I don't want to get my hopes up."

"Why not?"

"Look," she said somewhat testily, "I'm sure you've noticed I don't deal well with deep disappointments."

My eyes narrowed. "So…what? You plan to go through the rest of your life without raising your hopes too high? That's not the Bella Swan I know."

"You don't know me," she abruptly hissed. "You just said it yourself."

Her complete one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn in mood startled the shit out of me – for about half a second before my own mood altered.

"That's not what I said, Bella," I clarified through clenched teeth, "not at all. I said I know very little of what you've been up to for the past year. That doesn't mean I don't know you."

And just like that, the rest of the patrons in the restaurant disappeared, burned away to a charred crisp in the wake of our bewilderingly rising tempers. That she could have the nerve to tell me that I didn't know her? My nostrils flared, and I leaned in sharply across the table.

"You can't have it both ways, Bella. You can't tell me no one knows you the way I do one day, and the next, when I say something that pulls you out of your comfort zone, tell me I don't know you. I do know you," I growled fiercely and bounced a finger hard on the tablespace between us, "and if this is gonna be our last meeting-"

"Why would this be our last meeting?" she spat just as fiercely.

"You wanted answers, right?" I sneered. "Just answers?"

Bella swallowed, her own nostrils flaring…but she made no reply.

I snorted. "If this is going to be our last meeting, I'm not going to let you walk away spouting that lie to me." Now I dug the finger bouncing on the table into my chest. "I know you, Bella," I repeated.

"Then tell me how you know me so well," she snapped.

Her dark eyes took on a scarlet glow, backlit by fury. They stood out from among the drab, grey surrounding her. In my periphery, I saw her chest rise and fall with her angry breaths, her mouth curve into a scowl. As soon as I pulled back, a streak of lightning illuminated the coffee shop and bathed Bella in its fiery light, giving her the appearance of an avenging angel. The lightning was swiftly followed by a clap of thunder that shook the windows but barely made her blink.

"You want to know how I know you?" I said. "Fine. That Day, I arrived at Alice's building because I was leaving the country for work, and I knew I'd be gone for a few months. Like I said the last time you and I met, she and I never got along well. Whether that was mostly my fault or not I suppose doesn't really have much of a bearing on this part. She'd been quiet for the last couple of months. Too quiet," I scowled. "I knew my sister, and I knew relative silence likely meant trouble in one form or another. But then I started wondering if maybe it was just me. Maybe I was just a resentful asshole who couldn't see past what her mother and our father did."

"Edward, you're not-"

She tried to interrupt, but I kept going.

'And just because she was quiet didn't mean she was up to something she shouldn't be." Snorting, I offered Bella a wry grin. "What's more, she was working now. She had a great job at a small but well-respected publication, and while the pay wasn't great, it wasn't as if Alice needed the money. Neither of us needed to work for our money."

"Yet you work hard, Edward."

"Because I enjoy what I do. I've always enjoyed my job. It's a stressful job, yes, but I can immerse myself in it one hundred percent when I need to."

"And lately…" she said quietly, her fury of a moment earlier apparently gone, "you've needed to?"

I held her gaze because answering that question would give her that final piece without the data that backed it up.

"You wanted to go in order, right?"

She nodded.

"Then, we'll get to that. So, I texted her and told her I'd be away for a while, and I wanted to stop by in case she wanted to…I don't know, talk? She never replied. And maybe I should've just fucking left without going to see her. Maybe I should've just…"

And there went yet another variation to the question which had plagued me for days: Would it have been better had I never known her? Was knowing truly better than not knowing?

I raked a hand through my hair, yet when I met her eyes…as bewildered as they currently looked, despite the fact she loved someone else...when I looked into those eyes…

"Except, I don't believe that myself, do I?" I murmured mostly to myself. "No more lies, right?" I said more loudly.

"No more lies," she whispered.

My heart hammered in my chest.

"Before I even met you, Bella, long before That Day, I'd read some of your articles."

Bella's head jerked back, and her eyes widened into circles.

"I wasn't stalking you," I said evenly, "I promise. It was nothing like that. When she…when Alice first began working at The High Line, she sent me some of your work. She said she'd be working for you, and she wanted to know what I thought of your writing."

"What did you reply?"

"I thought the articles were great. They were immersive, enlightening…captivating."

"And what did she say?"

"She said she thought she could do better."

Bella snorted. "Did you read any of my articles toward the end?"

"Yes, I did," I admitted. "But I read them afterward, after everything that happened."

"They were shit, weren't they?"

Yes, they were. "You'd been under a lot of stress."

Despite my evasion, she grinned knowingly. "In other words, yes, they were shit, but thanks for trying to spare my feelings. Yes, she did write better than me then," Bella admitted. "Go on, Edward. That Day, you arrived at her lobby to say goodbye, to possibly build a relationship, to move past your own guilt, to provide her the benefit of the doubt, and then…what?"

"Then…I opened the door to the lobby…and a beautiful, angry woman in heels rushed past me." I smiled wistfully at the scene in my memory.

"I shoved past you," Bella corrected with her own wry smile. "Don't sugar-coat it too much; I do remember some."

"Fine. A beautiful, angry woman in heels shoved past me, and believe it or not," I chuckled humorlessly, "those heels were my first concern. I was worried you'd fall over."

Bella chuckled in return. "I probably should've fallen over. It would've saved us all a bunch of trouble."

"No," I disagreed. "you shouldn't have. Just like I shouldn't have left the country without going to see her."

Once again, Bella's nostrils flared, her fury apparently making a comeback full force.

"So, what are you saying, Edward," she hissed, "that we were exactly where we were meant to be? With me on the verge of one of the worst moments of my life, and you on the verge of reliving a scene sickeningly reminiscent to one of your worst moments?" She shook her head. "How could any of that have been meant to be?"

With that question, Bella once and for all answered my question: Yes. Yes, knowing is better than not knowing. Because both of us being there, and everything that came before, and everything that came after, ensured that I would someday see her, understand her, and always love her.

God, how could any of that not have been meant to be?

I sighed in relief, for that much, at least.

"The next thing I knew, my sister was rushing out of the elevator, looking wild and…fucking disheveled and the guy with her looking no better. And I knew, of course, what they'd been up to. When I saw you approach them, I knew some serious shit was about to go down."

"I started yelling."

"You started yelling, and everyone in the lobby stopped to watch. The guy with Alice rushed forward and begged you to calm down."

"My dear husband," she smirked sardonically.

"You kept cursing at him and at Alice, and…that was the first time I tried to step in."

"Why? Because I was cursing at Alice?"

"No, Bella," I hissed, frustrated that she could still believe that. "Not because you were cursing at Alice. Because I knew my sister." I paused here, and Bella waited. "There's a difference between shame and embarrassment. Alice was embarrassed, but she wasn't ashamed. The more you yelled and cursed, the more her self-righteous sense of resentment grew, and I knew that the moment she lashed out, she was going to do so in the most vindictive…the most ruthless manner possible."

"Like by announcing to me and to the entire lobby that while I'd tried for the past two years to get pregnant from my husband, she'd accomplished the feat in a matter of a few, short months."

I swallowed thickly. "Yes. Like that. So, she played her ace card, and-"

Bella sighed. "Edward, why didn't you just leave at that point? It had to be so hard for you," she said shakily, "to watch that scene play out. Why did you stay?"

"I couldn't leave," I said simply. "Yeah, I suppose, at first, it was sympathy; I watched the both of them stand together against you, with your own damn husband too much of a whipped prick to at the very least protect you from her venomous mouth," I scowled. "But then…when I wrapped my arms around you to pull you off him-"

"I don't remember that," she whispered, making my chest clench painfully. "I don't remember you holding me. I mean, I have vague recollections in my dreams, but most of them vanish when I wake up. What I experienced in that lobby…they called it an anxiety attack with accompanying memory loss. It was…bad." When she choked and turned away to hide her face, I threw caution to the wind and took her hand over the table. She allowed it, her beautiful face still angled away from me, but after a minute, her eyes once again met mine.

"What did you say to me, Edward?"

"I told you they weren't worth it. I told you to let go because they weren't worth it, and I told you…" When I swallowed, Bella shut her eyes, "I told you I understood your anger, and I tried to persuade you to come to me, to allow me," I said, my voice shaking, "to allow me to keep you safe because they weren't worth you getting into trouble. You said they lied to you, and I said-"

Her eyes popped open. "You said, 'I've got you.'"

I nodded.

"You said it over and over, and…and I let go of Jasper, and…"

"Jesus," I murmured quietly, while the memories apparently flooded her.

"And you comforted me," she breathed, a solitary tear skimming her cheek. It fell on the table between us, then another one joined it. "You told me it would be okay. You promised me. You pulled me back…and you held me so tightly, you enveloped me so completely in your arms, while she taunted me and taunted me." Bella cried quietly. "Why, Edward?"

"She said something about how everything could've been handled in a friendly manner, and-"

"And that was when I fucking lost it because my mother used those same damn words when she broke my father's heart. And I let loose all the pain and frustration which had been building for decades…but why, Edward? Why didn't you let go?"

I held her gaze.

"Edward, why?"

"Why?" I echoed, squeezing her hand in mine, anchoring myself to her before the rest poured out.

"Do you want the absolute truth, or do you want the answer that's still true, but that'll make it easier to send this file back to the goddamn end of the list? Because the absolute truth might not be something you need to hear. It's probably not what you want to hear," I qualified carefully, "not now when…" I swallowed painfully. "The absolute truth might just be for me to deal with, and God help me," I groaned hoarsely, scrubbing a hand down my face, "I'm not trying to be an asshole, Bella. I'm asking you because I honestly don't know here. I don't know, but I'll give you whatever you want. Anything you want."

Her reply was instantaneous, as was my compliance.

"I want the absolute truth."

"Yes, those first few moments in that lobby were a reminder of what my father did, but it was an alternate scenario."

"It was your past affecting how you saw that scene."

"It was more than that," I emphasized intently. "It was the pent-up emotion that burst from you: your fury and outrage, yes, but it was more than that which made me hold on so tight. It was the courage you showed in calling them out on their bullshit instead of just hushing it up, handling it privately, in a friendly manner," I scoffed, "like she said; in a quiet corner where all's easily forgiven and forgotten. No. No," I growled. "You stood there and gave them both a piece of what they deserved, a piece of your mind, and along with the little bit I'd learned of you from your articles, I started to piece together the most fascinating of women."

"A fascinating woman." Bella laughed bitterly, and my blood boiled. "You're going to tell me that's what you saw in me the day I broke?"

"Yes," I seethed at her damned continuing inability to see! "That's what I saw. I saw a woman with so many complex sides: an imaginative wordsmith and writer who'd earned her corner office without stabbing someone else in the back for it, a defender of what was hers, a woman with the capability to love so unconditionally – even when she loved the wrong person, but so unconditionally, she'd display that love to the entire world. Someone who gave fidelity and who expected fidelity in return. Someone capable of offering forgiveness. A woman who'd fight for the family she wanted so badly, she'd put herself through that hell for it. And no, Bella," I spat, "in the heat of the moment, I didn't realize I was thinking these things; of course not. It wasn't until days, weeks later that I laid my head down on another continent and wondered why I still couldn't get you out of my head. That was when I stopped to examine these thoughts. That was when I realized that I'd taken what little I knew and extrapolated so much from it…so much…Bella…"

My heart felt like it was about to explode. Dizzy, I gripped both of her hands tightly…too damn tightly. Yet it was she who slid her fingers through mine…her thumbs tracing soothing circles while her forehead came to rest on mine. She breathed my name, bathed me in her warm breath, and across a small table in a coffee shop, Bella allowed me a taste of her courage…

She filled me with her courage, and I took it ran.

"Edward…"

I gave her that last piece.

"…so much that I'd fallen in love with you."

A/N: Thoughts?

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Chapter Song Recs:

The Scientist by Coldplay

I love you (Billie Eilish, duet version)

"See" you soon.