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

Almost done! (Though, this story will expand a little beyond where BREAK ended).

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

Broken – Chapter 22

Moments can be an indeterminable fraction of our lives; something occurring so briefly in relation to other, lengthier moments that they should, for all intents and purposes, be insignificant and easily wiped from our memories.

For example: a ninety-minute morning jog, a five-minute coffee break, a fifteen-minute business meeting, a two-minute to two-hour span between a head hitting the pillow and ensuing sleep – all these can be named trivial moments in our lives, whether they occur randomly or whether they occur repeatedly. They're summarily dismissed among the day-to-day grind, inconsequential backgrounds in the grand scheme, never to be recalled again.

"Edward…you loved me from the very beginning?"

Some moments are a five-second question, while two foreheads meet to support one another like opposite sides of a makeshift bridge…while ten fingers weave together across a table like an inseverable knot…while a pair of mouths exhale warm breath into a tight space, commingling like life-sustaining air.

Some moments are a split-second reply. "Yes."

Moments can be meticulously planned; something scheduled; its shape, plot, and ending prefabricated and orchestrated with a specific purpose in mind.

For example: a well-organized wedding, a projected family size, an outlined education, a pre-arranged tryst between a pair of married lovers.

"From the first…from the moment we met…re-met…here…in the coffee shop…you…you already loved me?"

Some moments are still being formulated as they're expelled on a bewildered breath.

Some moments are instinctive. "Yes."

Moments can be unintended brushstrokes on an already completed canvas. They're wild, indelible etches, painted on with a permanent sort of ink that bleeds into every aspect of the picture.

For example: winning the lottery when you're down to your last dollar, learning you have a life-threatening disease; or, being caught by your seven-year-old son while in the midst of that pre-arranged tryst.

"Bella, every moment of our lives leading up to that first coffee shop encounter led me to love you when I first saw you sitting here, gazing past these windows, a year after That Day."

"Edward…"

Some moments, like an unexpected encounter with a woman on the verge of a breakdown, bleed onto your canvas. From that moment on, those fathomless, immeasurable, and indeterminable moments with her paint every corner of your life.

Within one of these moments, Bella and I remained transfixed. We were rooted not to the spot but to one another, negligible space made all the tighter, all the more deceivingly private by the deluge which blanketed the windows and formed another barrier between the world and us. Perhaps it was that false sense of seclusion or the way I imagined she held onto me as urgently as I held onto her, which were to blame when my mouth skimmed upward, brushed against her nose…her brow…

"Edward…I can't," Bella breathed. "There's someone…and I can't…"

My mouth paused, and I swallowed past the lump in my throat to acknowledge her words.

"I know you can't," I murmured, succumbing nevertheless and brushing my lips against her smooth brow. "And that right there is one of the reasons why I respect you and love you so much, and it's why I can't either. A secret piece of you would never be enough for me."

Placing the ghost of a kiss to her sweet temple, I untangled myself from her warm hands and forced myself to pull away. For a moment, Bella remained immobile, her eyes shut, head hung in the same position as when our foreheads touched. With a deep breath, she opened her eyes and pulled back.

"And there is my absolute truth, and we can hit the 'X' on that portion of the file, and you can move on."

"Edward…I have...vague memories of the hospital. You were there with me."

"You remember."

"Only very vaguely. I…" Bella dropped her eyes and glared at her hands, now in fists before her. When she spoke again, her voice erupted in a strangled whisper. "I'm hurting you so much with this."

"Stop."

Her eyes flashed back to me. "Why? It's the truth. Yet you'll sit here and give me what I want, and I'll take and ask for more." She snorted in unmerited self-derision. "Because I need time to process this before we reach that hospital."

I quirked a brow. "Bella, now that you know my absolute truth, do you really think I'm going to sit here and complain about meeting with you one more time?"

"You have so much going on," she protested.

"And so do you," I countered. This time, when I leaned across, I kept my hands in fists as well, under the table. "So, just tell me where and when. I'll let you know if I can make it, and," I shrugged, "we'll go from there."

For one, long moment, we remained silently locked in one another's gaze, until Bella's fervently spoken words broke the silence.

"Thank you, Edward, for so much."

"No, Bella. Don't thank me."

Forcing myself to be the one to break our gaze left me lightheaded. My eyes landed unsteadily on the windows. Outside, the afternoon torrent ebbed as suddenly as it arrived. Though clouds still lingered, only a light trickle of rainfall pitter-pattered over the city's concrete, turning every structure into dark pewter. With a deep breath, I expelled the words that would end the afternoon.

"Stay safe and dry out there, okay?"

Her reply was the barest wisp of a feather. "Okay. You too."

In my periphery, I watched her gather her things, slip on her raincoat, and pick up her umbrella. All the while, I gripped the coffee table's dirty legs, held them even tighter when the doorbell chime announced her departure. It was the only way to resist chasing after her as she walked away.

OOOOO

It was strange. When I finally emerged from the coffee shop, the world appeared no different. The dark skies didn't seem to note or care about the moments Bella and I had just shared. The rest of the day proceeded in the same manner, with no outward alteration to Life as I knew it. Yet, I felt markedly different.

I didn't hear from Bella for the rest of the day, nor the next morning or afternoon.

"Doctor Jones, we're waiting for your office's final okay on the sample batch delivered to you. At that point, with Emergency Use Authorization already granted to the manufacturer, we'll be a go for immediate production."

"Of course, Doctor Cullen," replied the FDA microbiologist on the other end of the video conference screen. "I assure you, we're working as fast as we can."

"I appreciate it," I said. "With the Thanksgiving holiday coming up on us next week, we here at the CDC want to ensure the antiviral is in production by then."

We were holding a late afternoon conference call regarding the anti-viral booster samples we sent for approval. It was the final step before production could begin in earnest. If all went well, we'd have an initial, world-wide inoculation batch ready for distribution in about two weeks.

"Therefore, if you have any indication that this batch might not meet approval, the sooner we're informed, the sooner we can work on-"

"I assure you, Doctor Cullen," Doctor Jones said, "as of this moment, we're ninety-nine percent certain the sample batch will meet all FDA requirements, but though we foresee no issues, we can't issue approval until the very last test returns."

"We'd not only expect but condone nothing less here at the CDC," I said.

"In the meantime, Doctor McCarty, will you be around if we need some final input from you?"

I looked at Emmett, who sat across from me at the small conference table. "Definitely," he nodded. "You can contact me at any time."

"And you, Doctor Cullen?"

"I'll be on twenty-four-hour call as well. As soon as we hear back from you, I'll sign off and send the EUA to the manufacturer."

"Very good. Sounds like a plan, Doctors." Doctor Jones smiled. "You'll be hearing from us soon."

"Thank you. We look forward to it." Leaning forward, I hit the power button and ended the video conference.

Emmett and I both exhaled.

"We're so close," he said.

I nodded.

"Just one more test."

I nodded.

"So, if the sample batch is a go, we'll have just enough for our own use so that by the time we're out in the field for distribution to first responders and those at the highest risk, we'll be protected."

I nodded.

Emmett watched me. Then, he checked his watch.

"Not much more we can do around here tonight. Want to go get a drink?"

"I don't..." But then I sighed and nodded.

OOOOO

"It's a strange sensation, like a…weight lifted off of you when you tell the woman you know you'll always love that you love her."

"Even if she doesn't say it back?"

I stared in front of me at the shelves of liquor lining the bar. In the background, a group of twenty-somethings covered the early 90's grunge favorites. I'd spent the better part of an hour relaying Bella's and my last lunch tale to Emmett, though there were certain parts I would always keep between she and I.

Lifting my bottle to my mouth, I took another drink before I replied.

"Even if she doesn't say it back."

From the barstool beside mine, Emmett chuckled quietly. "I'll be honest, Ed. As much as I advocated your honesty, that sounds fucking frightening as hell. It took balls, man."

I snorted. "I don't know about that. Like I said, it's surprisingly...freeing, knowing she's out there, and she finally knows how I feel." I shook my head and offered him a sidelong smirk. "You were right, you know."

"I usually am," he grinned, "but about what in particular?"

"A couple of years ago," I grinned in return, "when I was still struggling against my feelings for Bella, you basically told me I was a closed-off asshole who never let women in."

Now Emmett chuckled heartily. "I don't remember phrasing it quite that way."

"No, not exactly that way, but I extrapolate, remember? It's what you meant." I chuckled but then quickly sobered. "And you were right. I spent decades trying not to be like my father-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I sure as hell never compared you to your dad."

"But I was like him, and no, I don't mean with the cheating," I clarified. "I learned the consequences of that literally first-hand from him, though it wasn't a lesson he meant to teach me That Day. I inadvertently learned another lesson That Day as well. I learned...not to trust women."

Emmett remained silent.

"A year ago...I wanted Bella's trust, but I wasn't ready to trust her in return. I kept them all, including Bella, at arm's length. I kept the truth from her because I didn't trust her with it. Yesterday, when I finally told her everything...when I told Bella I loved her…it was...liberating. It was like…" I took a drink, "like I finally, finally broke down that wall of distrust around me."

For a long while, Emmett and I quietly drank our beers and listened to the band. They were good. When they finished their set, Emmett clapped me on the shoulder.

"Ed, I know things didn't turn out the way you would've wanted, but it sounds like you ended up a better man for knowing her."

I smiled wistfully and pulled out my wallet. "I did, and no matter what, she'll always have given me that."

"Yeah," he murmured in agreement. "Hey, want to stay for a couple more rounds and take in the next set?" Emmett asked as I settled my bar tab. "The FDA peeps can contact us as well here as they can from our places."

I considered it for a moment but then shook my head.

"Nah. I've got paperwork I should catch up on during the lull. Besides, I better keep a clear head in case something comes up." As I turned to leave, I raised a brow at Emmett. "Maybe you should do the same?"

"I'm half Latino, white boy. Remember? I can hold my liquor."

Emmett's reverberating laughter followed me out the bar door.

OOOOO

Back at my loft later, an unexpected knock on the door interrupted my train of thought. I sucked my teeth, hands paused mid-sentence, hovering above the keyboard while I tried to find my place again.

"Where was I? Oh yeah." My fingers resumed their glide across the keyboard.

"…recommend distribution begins in the-"

Another knock.

"Shit," I spat.

I had a young neighbor, in his early to mid-twenties, who partied hard and whose drunk friends tended to get lost from door to door. Again, I waited, hoping Young Neighbor's friend found his place so I could find mine.

"…distribution begins in the area which will allow-"

Another knock.

"Fuuuck," I growled lowly, shoving away the laptop. The action displaced the documents across my desk, which aggravated me all the more. "Great," I hissed as I shuffled barefoot toward the door. "Errant knocker, you better be ready for a mouthful. Coming!"

Exhaling through slightly flared nostrils, I simultaneously pulled open the door and opened my mouth, ready to lay into the...

For the first few seconds, I stood there and wondered if...if Bella was a guest at one of Young Neighbor's parties, and she'd indeed, she'd gotten lost.

"Bella?"

Without a word, she stood on her tip-toes – and the part of me which noted everything, even in the most consequential of moments, noted the one foot she had in a heeled shoe and the other she had in an orthopedic boot. Never mind that perplexing development, when she wrapped her warm arms around my shoulders, and I instinctively slid my arms around her hips, lifting her apparently injured feet off the floor...when she buried her beautiful face against my neck, and I instantly felt the dampness of her tears...

When all that occurred, the five-second moment became the most important moment of all.

"Bella…" I breathed, holding her up all the more securely, "what are you doing here? And what happened to your foot?"

Bella chuckled in reply. She chuckled and cried. Crying and chuckling, she cradled my face between her soft hands, locked me in her dark, wet gaze…and smiled.

"I'm fine. It's okay. It's nothing." Again, she chuckled. Then, she cried. She chuckled, cried, shook her head erratically, then nodded. "I'm fine, and…"

I held her gaze, bewildered…and tamping down on the hope that wanted to burst forth; the hope that she'd actually come looking for me.

Because I had no clue what to think.

Not even when Bella reached out and traced the line that must've appeared between my brows. Eyes full of wonder, she skimmed her finger down my nose, above the bridge...and past it. Her eyes glistened as she pulled the finger away...leaned in...and brushed her lips against the almost-forgotten bump.

"And I'm sorry I broke your nose."

A/N: Thoughts?

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