15

Bella sat curled up on the couch inside their small, dinky apartment and watched her husband pretend to study. They'd just arrived back from Chicago the day before. She worried about Edward, about the stress of dealing with his brother and sister's mental breakdowns would be too much for him.

Alice had refused to see them before they left, screaming that they could go to hell. She wanted to die, to be done with the life God had handed her. Bella couldn't blame her. Hell, she had had moments herself when she wondered why she didn't just end everything. Moments when her body ached from cancer treatments, when all she wanted more than anything was to be able to feel her father's arms around her, to have her mother brush her hair, to tell her family how much she loved them. But Bella had never had the courage to take her own life.

"Sure you don't want to come with me?" Bella asked, standing up.

Edward put on a fake smile as he looked from his biology book to her. "I really need to study."

"Okay. I love you."

"Me too."

Not hearing those three little words from him hurt, but Bella understood that he was dealing with a lot. He and Carlisle hadn't talked again since they walked out of the hospital. Nor had she and Emmett and Esme. Bella wasn't sure what to say to her brother and sister, how to make everything good again. Then, again, maybe things hadn't been as good as Bella thought they were. Emmett and Rose couldn't have a baby, Alice and Jasper were cracking at the seams, Esme and Carlisle were . . . Bella didn't even know what they were doing. Enjoying life being free of the burden they'd inherited when their worlds were torn apart.

"I shouldn't be too long," Bella added, grabbing the keys to their car and pausing at the door. "Want me to bring home dinner?"

"If you want," he said, this time not even bothering to look up.

Sighing, Bella pulled open the door and walked out. As soon as the door closed behind her, her eyes filled with tears. She was losing him and there was nothing she could do about it.

—WH—

Half an hour later, Bella was seated in Phil's office, waiting for him to get done with his patient. She had called him that morning to see when would be a good time for her to return his credit card. He insisted on her coming in that afternoon. So, there she was when all she wanted was for Edward to hold her and tell her everything would be okay.

Feeling antsy, Bella stood and wandered around the office, stopping at his bookshelves behind his desk. Like most doctors, he had medical books, but there were also pictures of her, Emmett, and Esme. Of Renee and Charlie. Pictures of the closest he would ever get to a family, Bella suspected.

The door to the office opened and Bella looked over and watched as Phil entered. He looked as exhausted as she felt.

"Hey, sorry it took so long," he said, closing the door. He walked up to her, and pulled her in for a hug. The second his arms wrapped around her, the dam broke and she began to sob. Not just sob, but ugly crying. "Shh, sweetheart, it's okay."

"Not . . . okay," she cried. "Nothing is . . . okay."

Phil dragged me over to his small, black leather sofa and sat with me still leaning against him. "Tell me what's going on."

Bella leaned back and tried to wipe the tears off her face, but more fell. "I don't even know. Edward and I thought leaving Forks and coming here was the right choice for us. We needed a chance to not be two sick kids for once. But, apparently, that just fucked everything up for everyone."

Bella shifted so that she was facing him and let everything out. Alice's spiraling mental health, how nobody other than her and Edward had as much as called her or Jasper. How Emmett and Rose had been trying to get pregnant, but couldn't. The more she spoke, the angrier she became.

"I just don't know why it falls on me and Edward to keep everybody together. When do we get a chance to just live our lives?" she asked.

"Wow," Phil said, exhaling a deep breath. "I had no idea things that were that bad."

"I don't know what to do. Edward's angry. I can feel him pulling away."

"You've got to talk to him, Butterbean. Tell him how you feel."

"It's not that easy," she muttered. "He's been having these episodes for a while. A tightening in his chest. He had some tests done in Chicago, by his old cardiothoracic surgeon, but he said it was just stress. What if it's not, though? What if . . . what if it's more than that?"

"Then it's more," Phil said, reaching over and placing his hand on her cheek. "It's unfortunate, but you and Edward will always have to play the 'what if' game. I'd love to believe that you'll never develop another tumor, that Edward will never have to have another heart surgery, but the odds say otherwise."

"I know. It's just not fair," she murmured.

"No, it's not," he agreed. "If it were, Charlie and Renee would be the ones telling you this instead of me."

"I miss them."

"Me, too."

"Thank you," Bella said, slipping his credit card out of her pocket and holding it out to him. "We'll pay you back every penny."

"No, you won't." Phil took the credit card, placing it on his knee. "Alice is my family, too Butterbean. I will do everything I can to help her, to help any of you."

Bella nodded and glanced down at her watch. "I'd better go. Thanks again."

"You're welcome." Phil followed her out to the elevator. "If you need anything, just call. Promise?"

"I promise."

And she wanted to mean it, but relying on Phil was as dangerous as relying on Emmett and Esme. Bella and Edward could only count on each other.

—WH—

Bella stopped and grabbed a pizza from their favorite joint. It was a charming, family owned pizza parlor that made their money off the college kids. Balancing the pizza on her hip, she pulled her keys out of her back pocket and unlocked the door to their apartment. She expected to find Edward still seated at the table, or even laying across the couch, but the apartment was empty. A feeling of panic filled her as she stowed the pizza in the fridge and looked for a note, anything that would tell her where her husband had taken off to. There was nothing.

Bella dug into her purse and found her phone, hoping that somehow she had missed a call or text from Edward, but her phone didn't show any notifications. She paced in the living room as she dialed his number and brought the phone up to her ear.

"You're call has been forwarded to an automated voice system."

Huffing, Bella ended the call. Where was he? Why were calls going directly to his voice mail? Bella sent him a text, asking where he was. She sat on the couch and waited for him to reply, but he never did. Her phone showed the message was read, though. Why was he ignoring her?

Bella considered calling Carlisle and asking him if he had heard from Edward, but she knew he wouldn't have. Edward hadn't forgiven Carlisle yet. Or she didn't think he had. A feeling of panic filled her.

For the next four hours, Bella called and texted him. Each phone call went straight to his voice mail and every text was read, just not replied to. Tears fell down her face and she found herself climbing the walls with worry. More than once she had to stop herself from leaving the apartment and searching for him. She wouldn't even know where to start. After all, she had the car and they were seriously low on the funds, so she didn't think he would have taken a cab. But then, she never thought he would leave her, either.

Bella had just stood and picked up her phone to call him again, when the door to their apartment opened and Edward stumbled in. She could smell the liquor rolling off him. He leaned against the open door, his eyes lifting from the floor to her. A creepy smile spread against his face, which was red and sweaty.

"Hey, baby, I was looking for you," he slurred, pushing off the door and reaching for her.

Bella moved away from him, unsure what to say or do. Edward didn't drink, not with the type of medication he was on. "Where were you?"

"Out," he laughed and flopped down on the couch. "The room is spinning."

"I'm sure it is," she murmured, rushing over and pulling his keys out of the lock before shutting the door to their apartment. Taking a deep breath, she turned and looked at him, finding him with his hand shoved down his pants.

"Come here, baby. I want to touch you," he slurred, rolling off the couch and landing on his face. "Fuck that hurt."

"I'd imagine so," she murmured as she walked over to him and helped him sit up. Edward grabbed her by the hips and pulled her onto his lap. The smell of booze intensified and she found herself wanting to throw up. "Let me go."

"I want to touch my wife," he said, trying to sound sexier than he did she supposed. His hand slipped down to her ass, grabbing a handful. "I love your ass, baby. So fucking firm."

"Yeah, I know," she said, struggling to get him to release her. "Edward, let me go."

"No," he growled, his arm tightening around her almost to the point of being painful. "You're mine."

"Stop this, Edward," she snarled, shoving him backward as she scrambled off his lap. She crossed the room before she looked back at him, finding him still sitting on the floor. "What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me," he laughed. "I'm just a fucked up freak with a broken heart."

"You're being a real jerk," she said, inching her way to the bedroom.

"Yeah, well, you're a bitch," he spat. "Why don't you just go fuck yourself? Think you're so fucking perfect. Well, you ain't. You're just as fucked up as I am. More so even. My heart may be broken, but at least I didn't cause my parents' accident like you did. Your mom and dad would be here if it wasn't because of you!"

Bella gasped as she stumbled backward, the full force of his words slamming into her. Tears filled her eyes. "Don't you think I know that?"

And leaving Edward sitting on the floor, Bella ran into their bedroom and locked the door behind her. Her knees gave out and she crumbled to the floor, her heart breaking as Edward continued to yell obscenities at her, accusing her of destroying everything they had.