Author's note: Thanks for all your reviews, recs, and love for the story :)

I say it every week, but my team really are the best - thanks for all that you do.

Who's ready to finally hear from Bella? Starting from the night of the break in …

Chapter 4

BPOV

"Are you sure you don't mind me going without you?" Rosalie asks for the tenth time.

I groan, sinking even further into my comfy spot on the sofa- a spot I've made my own for the last two days. Do I wish I was all dressed up and ready to go out for a mouth-watering, delicious meal accompanied by several glasses of wine? Hell yeah! Am I in any fit state to do that? Absolutely not.

I've had an awful day; the whole week has pretty much been a write-off as the illness I've been fighting got progressively worse. The only place I fancy being tonight is at home armed with an endless supply of tissues and hot drinks, with a cozy blanket wrapped firmly around me.

I'm never ill, so it's just my luck I feel like absolute hell on the day Rosalie and I have plans—special plans. We've only waited all month to get a table at Eclipse, one of Seattle's newest and most talked-about restaurants renowned for their fusion of Asian and French cuisine. While most people wouldn't see the big deal, food is my life … my passion … my vocation.

And sure, I could use Dad's connections; even stating my own name would likely secure a table in any restaurant in the city at the drop of a hat, but I refuse to profit or benefit from his name ... his businesses.

All my life, I've chosen to keep as far away from my father's influence. I want no involvement in his dodgy schemes and questionable deals. Just as he wants very little to do with my life ... my interests, he's made that noticeably clear.

Yes, he paid for my education, but everything else I have made for myself.

I run a successful business … a thriving restaurant ... have a series of popular cookbooks published. However, it's still not enough to encourage Charlie to want to spend time with me ... to want to be a part of my life.

Unless he's forced to at family gatherings or celebrations, I rarely see him. It's been this way for many years, so I don't know why I let his coldness ... his distance get to me. I should be used to it by now, but it hurts, nonetheless. However, I refuse to dwell on my non-existent relationship with my father, and instead of jumping the queue at the next big thing, I sucked it up and waited like everyone else.

I had been so excited and so looking forward to a night off from the restaurant. It's just my luck I would be struck down by a mystery illness days before our reservation. I tried to fight it off with every medication known to man - all to no avail. Nothing helped. In fact, I felt worse as the week progressed. It must be bad because I had to take a couple of days off work, the first in two years, which Dora quickly reminded me of when she ordered me to stay home.

Perhaps if it was anyone other than Dora, I might have fought harder, but what Dora says, Dora gets. However, I never complained about her worrying because it was nice to feel cared for … nice to feel loved, especially given my estranged relationship with my father.

Dora is a real sweetheart, and she was constantly checking up on me, even more so when she found out Rosalie had plans this evening and I had the house to myself. She sent Rosalie home armed with a care package of homemade soup and plenty of other thoughtful gifts. I wouldn't put it past her to hurry home after her shift at the restaurant.

"It seems so unfair," Rosalie says, drawing my attention back to her. "You've been looking forward to this for weeks. I know how gutted you are. I feel bad going without you." One look at her face, and I know she is close to canceling, which I won't allow.

"Please, Rose, just go have fun and don't worry about me. There will be many more times we can go together." I assure her. "The restaurant isn't going anywhere. We'll go when I can actually enjoy and taste all the delicious food they have on the menu," I tell her truthfully, because while I'm gutted to have to pass up our plans, I'd never begrudge my friend a night out just because I'm sick. Besides, she has a hot guy available to take my place!

"Go already. Fill your face with all that delicious food, and when you come back, bring a doggie bag and tell me all about it; including what Royce is like. And don't you dare come back early for me!" I warn because, knowing Rosalie as I do, I know that's exactly what she plans.

Finally, after more pleading, she gave in and kept our reservation. Rosalie took her date, Royce, whom she'd been chatting with online for the last couple of weeks. She seems keen on the guy, and he wanted to meet up before going away on a business trip anyway, so it made sense he took my place.

I hoped it went well. You never know about online dating. It's hard, time-consuming, and full of disappointment after disappointment. Or at least that's my own experience. I've been there myself; chatting with what seemed to be the perfect guy, only to find they are completely different when you meet them face to face. Been there done that; never again.

When did dating get so complicated? When did your picture become the only factor in whether you swipe left or right? How do you decide to meet someone based on some self-promoting description on a website?

Either way, it wasn't for me. I just hope Rosalie is more successful this time because Royce sounded too good to be true. And you know what they say—if something sounds too good to be true, it usually is.

With Rosalie out and the house to myself, I had a night of watching trashy TV in bed, generally feeling sorry for myself, drifting in and out of sleep when the front door slamming shut jolted me out of my peaceful slumber. Glancing at the clock, I see it's just past nine pm. Dora's shift finishes at ten, so it must be Rose. I'm surprised to hear her home so early, and I tell her that.

"That was fast. I didn't expect you home for at least an hour."

No answer.

"That bad, huh? Was Royce a letdown, or did you just feel sorry for me?"

Still nothing.

Okay, that's odd. No matter how many dating disasters either one of us has had, we always share our misfortunes, then cheer each other up, laughing about how we got it so wrong—again. The fact that Rosalie is silent makes me think she's had a particularly nasty experience, and I'm instantly worried, imagining all the worst-case scenarios in my head.

Overreaction much?

Forcing myself up, I make my way to where the noise came from.

"Rose, are you down there?" I call but am met with more silence. "Hey, you're worrying me now. It can't have been that bad!"

I push the door open, and the moment I step out, I realize my mistake.

There is no time to act … to do anything besides freeze. My stomach twists, my eyes widen at the scene in front of me. I should have turned away ... I should have reached in my pocket to call for help, but before I could do either of those things, a heavy arm wraps around my waist from behind, and I'm suddenly forced back into my room and immediately surrounded by two armed men …

...

I wake from a deep sleep, but it's not peaceful.

My entire body aches. My head is throbbing. My whole body is consumed with a pain I can't describe. It's then I become aware of a repeating sound around me.

Beep … beep … beep.

What the hell is that noise? And how do I make it stop?

The sound persists; my irritation rises as the pounding in my head worsens. I try to open my eyes, but they feel so heavy. I take a moment to gather my strength and try again, which is a big mistake. I open my eyes, for barely a moment, squinting when I'm blinded by bright fluorescent light. Still, that damn beeping doesn't let up.

Learning from my mistake, I cautiously try again … gradually letting them adjust to the light as I try to take in my surroundings. More and more, the room came back into focus; my blurred vision clears, my eyes focus on the machine I'm hooked up to, realizing the beeping is coming from there.

What the fuck?

Breathing deeply, I have a moment of pure panic as I try to recall what the hell happened and how I came to be in the hospital; because that's where I am, right? That revelation sends a fresh wave of panic through my body. I can feel my heart racing ... my breathing quickens.

Hospitals ... This can't be happening ... not again!

I try to speak … call for help, but the words are caught in my mouth. Clearing my throat, I try again; this time, the words came out as a croaky whisper, which is barely audible. But I must make a sound because I capture the attention of someone in the room, and my body stiffens instinctively.

"Look who's awake," a smooth, deep, almost-velvety voice says. I hear steady steps approaching the bed, and when I look up, I can do nothing but stare at the bright green eyes and handsome face staring down at me.

Wow. Just wow.

I must be dreaming. Or, I died and went straight to heaven, which isn't a bad thing if he's here.

If his voice is dreamy, his face is outright gorgeous … handsome. He has it all; strong chiseled features, a sharp jawline, eyelashes most women dream of, and the most unique green eyes. And they're big too … like my favorite olives from Castelvetrano.

Everything about him was unique, and don't even get me started on his hair - a combination of brown and blonde - almost bronze under the fluorescent lights. It was in complete disarray, yet he made the style sexy!

He's beautiful.

My head is pounding it … everywhere hurts .. my entire body aches, but there is nothing wrong with my eyesight, and all I can say is that my doctor is every doctor fantasy personified.

Hello handsome.

I don't realize I've spoken until his lips pull up at the corner.

"Bella, my name is Dr. Cullen. I treated you when you were brought into the hospital. Do you mind if I do a quick examination?" he asks.

"Sure," I mumble, still embarrassed from the slip-up. It must be the medication.

And then he begins his examination. Checking my vitals, he pulls out a penlight and gets me to follow his finger before testing my reactions, all of which I pass with flying colors, according to my handsome doctor, or angel, if I am, in fact, in heaven.

"How are you feeling? Any dizziness or blurred vision?"

I just shake my head, which then hurts from the motion.

"Any pain or discomfort despite the obvious?"

"A little," I admit, but that's putting it mildly.

Dr. Cullen nods, making notes before he takes the seat beside my bed. "I don't know if you remember anything about what happened?" he asks gently, watching me cautiously.

"It's a little hazy." My voice is scratchy, and he notices and carefully hands me a glass of water.

While I'm sipping, I try to remember what happened and how I came to be in the hospital, but I have a pounding headache - the type that felt like constant drilling at the back of my skull.

I remember Rosalie going out. I remember having to practically force her out of the door, but anything after is a blank. I don't remember any of it; what happened … How did I get here? I have so many questions ... so many thoughts running through my head, but it's difficult to form a sentence. Hopefully, this is caused by the medication; whatever drugs they are treating me with.

"Why is it all a blank?" I worry, my voice rising as panic sets in.

"Miss Swan, you have been through a horrific ordeal both physically and mentally. You suffered a potentially fatal gunshot wound, a head injury, and a severe concussion. Considering those injuries, it's quite common for the mind to block out painful memories." He tries to reassure me, but I feel my panic rising.

"Gunshot, did you say gunshot wounds? How? You said I was home? I can't … will I get them back … my memories?"

"In time, they should hopefully come back to you. We will run some more tests … find out if you suffered any consequences as a result of your fall."

I'm not sure I want those memories … those particular experiences back. Ignorance is bliss and all, but I hate being in the dark and feeling so helpless. How could I have been shot at home? Why am I having a hard time getting my thoughts out?

"Are you feeling up to talking about the injuries you sustained … about your recovery?" he asks carefully.

I nod, and Dr. Cullen begins telling me what happened, "Thankfully, you called 911 before you lost consciousness. The EMT got to you ...they found you at the bottom of the stairs unresponsive. You had been shot twice, we suspect, at close range. On top of this, we think you fell, hitting your head."

He goes on to tell me the details of how they saved my life; the procedures, the drugs, and a whole load of medical jargon, all of which goes over my head. It's a sobering moment when he tells me how close I came to losing my life on the operating table. It's a lot to take in, and I can't comprehend it all right now.

"I know it's a lot to absorb, and I'm afraid to tell you that you have a substantial recovery time ahead of you, not to mention rehab. I also strongly suggest you speak to a counselor … a professional to help talk through your ordeal."

"Dr. Cullen. I'm sorry to interrupt." A voice calls from the doorway. "May I borrow you for a moment?"

"Excuse me," he apologizes before walking over to a nurse who has entered the room.

While he's busy, it gives me a moment to observe him. I watch the two of them talking, mesmerized. He's handsome … beyond handsome, even more so when he's in medical mode. He's strong and stern, taking charge, giving instructions with a degree of authority beyond his youthful appearance. However, there's a level of mutual respect there too. He has authority, that's for sure, but he's not arrogant with it. He isn't talking down to her. I like that. Maybe, I've been around too many alpha males in my family, but his manner is attractive … enticing. And if I see it in the state I'm in now, imagine how amplified it will be when I'm clear-headed?

He may as well be speaking a foreign language for what I understand, but I could listen to him talking all day because his voice has a soothing quality. When he's finished speaking to the nurse, he comes back over and sits on the chair beside my bed.

"I've increased your pain medications. You should start to feel it kick in soon."

"You're very lucky, Isabella," he says finally, after a pause.

"I don't feel lucky," I exhale. "But thank you for all you did … for saving my life."

I don't remember very much about when I arrived in hospital, but for some reason, I'm certain Dr. Cullen played a huge part in my survival, as crazy as that sounds.

"Just doing my job," he says, smiling. "Do you want me to call anyone? Tell them you're awake?"

"Oh, my god, Dora and Rose must be freaking out."

"I've had the pleasure of meeting both ladies," he says with a smile.

"They're here?"

Dr. Cullen smiles that crooked, sexy smile I already love. "They came in a few hours after you arrived by ambulance, and they've not left the hospital despite my many attempts to persuade them otherwise. I'll go find them, but you're only allowed a short visit … no overdoing it, okay?"

I nod, desperate to see them.

He stands and walks to the door, pausing before turning back around to face me.

"Do me a favor?" he smirks again.

Anything.

Damn, he's gorgeous.

I can only nod my head …

"I keep suggesting they leave, they need rest, but they won't listen. Maybe you'll have more luck getting through to them."

"I'll try. Is there - " I pause, considering my next question carefully, before asking, "Is there anyone else with them?"

The thin sliver of hope my father is here … that he even cares if I live or die disappears when Dr. Cullen's face drops. He looks hesitant … maybe even sad? His reaction gives me my answer before he's uttered a single word, and I know without him speaking, Charlie isn't with them.

"I believe it's only Miss Hale and Dora in the waiting room right now." He says gently, but it doesn't soften the blow of finding out my father doesn't care enough to put me first, even now.

Business, always business. The Family name … how any action reflects on the Family comes ahead of anything else.

"Oh ..."

I try not to let my disappointment show, but I'm absolutely gutted ... heartbroken.

I should have known better than to get my hopes up … to think the best of him. Our family is shambolic … unconventional at best, but still, I had a tiny amount of hope that the loving father I remembered growing up as a kid is in there ... somewhere.

Apparently not.

I get why hospitals; this one, in particular, would be especially difficult for Charlie because it was where Mom and I were brought all those years ago. But it wasn't much fun for me either; does he think I've forgotten? It would have been good to have my dad here, for once, supporting me.

If me getting shot and nearly dying doesn't move him, there's no hope. Tears gather in my eyes, but I force them back. I refuse to cry … to shed a tear for Charlie.

"As far as I'm aware, your father hasn't been to visit you, but I believe he's sought a regular update on your condition," he says after a pause. I think he's only trying to soften the blow. I hate that he can read me so easily. I don't want to cry, especially over Charlie. He doesn't deserve my tears.

"Do you want me to call him and tell him you're awake?" Dr. Cullen offers, his voice suddenly stoic.

It takes me all of a moment to reply. "No … that won't be necessary; if you could just send Rosalie and Dora in, please," I say brightly - a little too brightly. My voice is fake. He sees right through me.

"If you're sure, I'll go get them. But no overdoing it; You have ten minutes before I'm sending them away. You need your rest." He says, trying to sound stern.

I nod, agreeing.

"The police will also want to talk to you but don't worry about that for now. I'll put them off a while; give you some time before facing more questions. Focus on getting better first."

"Police?"

"I'll let the ladies tell you some more details about what happened, Bella."

With that, he turns to leave, but I call him back.

"Dr. Cullen …" I pause, pushing past the lump in my throat at the significance of my words … how true they are. "Thank you again ... for saving my life."

"You're welcome, Bella. It's good to see you awake."

He offers me that crooked smile before he exits the room, leaving me a moment to collect myself before I am bombarded by the two most important women in my life.

While I wait for Dr. Cullen to bring them in, my thoughts turn to Charlie. Perhaps it's a good thing he isn't here. I've learned the hard way, time and time again, that he doesn't care for me - not really. I'm just a painful reminder of everything he lost many years ago.

And if he isn't here for me now, when will he be?

Author's note: We've met Masen before … Now we met Bella, who isn't at her best.

So many exciting things coming up in the fandom. Fran has just released the latest prompt for her song to story contest which you can find on www dot fanfiction dot net /u/ 15012689 /Song-To-Story-Challenge. Just replace the dots and remove the spaces.

Until next week. xx