A/N: I'm so thrilled about all the new readers. And I've been getting a lot more reviews. But I have to admit I'm a little nervous about posting this chapter. Most reviewers have expressed excitement about finishing up the 'past' chapters. I hope I can live up to your expectations!

This picks up right where Chapter 1 left off. Several people have told me that they want to re-read the first chapter before moving on, so if you are interested in doing that, now's the time.

Welcome back to the present…

Chapter 11

February 14-16, 2014

Somehow I made it through the rest of the day. The clinic was overbooked as usual, so it helped distract me. I did what I had to do, examined patients, counseled them and reassured them, whatever. I was busy, so I didn't think of how my world had been shattered just a few short hours before. I'd thought I'd cobbled together a decent existence, but now I knew it had never been so if spending minutes in Edward's presence again sent me for such a loop. I pictured angry Edward in the lobby of the VA all those years ago. I didn't know what to think.

I took a break after most patients had been seen to cry in the bathroom for a few minutes. Thank God, Tanya was long gone since we ran well over time with the patients. I thought I covered well and dabbed here and there at my face in order to finish the day. I hovered in Carlisle's office doorway when we were done.

"Wow, interesting day," I commented, fishing. Carlisle looked up at me, and his face morphed. Not a good sign.

"Bella, are you all right?" he said in a very concerned voice. His eyes widened in alarm. I shrugged and nodded at the same time, trying to appear like my normal self.

"Are you sick? Your face is red. I've never seen it look like that except…" he trailed off and stared at me. I was unsettled by his scrutiny. I wasn't sure what he was referring to, but I was worried that he was linking my expression today to my expression six years ago, the only other time I'd ever cried at work. And that wouldn't do.

"I'm fine, Carlisle. I'm just tired. I might be coming down with something. It is flu season, after all," I threw out there, anything to keep him from connecting the dots. He smiled and returned to typing on his computer.

"Do you have plans with Siobahn tonight?" I asked tentatively. She was Carlisle's girlfriend, but I wasn't a huge fan. I thought he could do better. It was the perfect question for a distraction.

"Yes," he answered me slowly. "Siobahn has found a vegan restaurant in midtown that she's dying to try. We're going to eat dinner there tonight," he told me with a shrug. I wrinkled my nose.

"Carlisle, you are so not a vegan," I observed with disapproval. He turned his face away from me.

"I know, but she is very passionate about her beliefs. I want to support her," he told me vaguely. I sighed. Siobahn was not meant for Carlisle. That just reminded me that Edward had never been meant for me. I gave up and bid Carlisle a good night.

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I went straight from work to Chuy's. It was already ridiculously crowded when I walked in around 6 pm. I avoided examining the patrons since I didn't want to see all the happy couples. Luckily, the bartender was merciful and handled my order of Creamy Jalapeno dip and chips quickly. I gathered the sinful treat and headed home.

At 31 years old, I was definitely too old to be having this for dinner. I hadn't allowed this kind of indulgence for years, but I'd had a much tighter reign on my feelings until today. That was for sure. I would allow myself an indulgence for once.

I'd also taken a quick stop at Albertson's to pick up a bottle of red wine to go with the dip. One glass turned into one bottle as I remembered the time I shared with Edward. I thought about his reaction to me today. I wondered if he'd known I would be there. But that was giving my hold over him in present day too much credit, I decided. He hadn't dismissed me out right, so he must not hate me uncontrollably. But maybe he was hoping to get revenge. I'd probably played into that fantasy, if that's what he was looking for, I thought. Or worse, maybe I wasn't even a blip on his radar.

My mind drifted against my will to those weeks with Edward. I allowed myself to relive them in detail. My usual white noise played in the background. The news detailed all the horrible things happening in the world today, and although it was a fitting soundtrack to my break down, I turned the TV off.

I considered calling Rosalie, but discarded the idea quickly. She and Emmett would be out celebrating the holiday, and I wasn't selfish enough to ruin their limited time together. I would call her tomorrow morning. Instead I gorged on chips and dip and made a stupid, ironic Facebook post. I did a great job ignoring the heart of the matter until the hour was late, and I realized that I was home alone, the door closed, darkness having fallen.

I had not been able to handle seeing Edward again the way I'd wanted to do. But it had been so sudden. That had to count for something. He'd seemed so calm and collected, and surely he was. It had been years, so of course he was over me. I was a distant memory, a forgettable bump in the road, which he'd recovered from quickly. I sighed as I admitted to myself that Edward had been the mature one back then. I'd been the fool.

This was not news. I'd come to this conclusion years ago. But I'd been waiting to move beyond it, to somehow forgive myself and find someone more suitable. But it hadn't happened. I was still alone and had never been able to seriously consider another person as my other half. Well, now I'd be forced to move on. Edward most certainly had a girlfriend or at least a full life. I'd undoubtedly be confronted with it soon enough. This might be what I needed to get out of my funk. Maybe.

I didn't mean to drink so much. But I woke up cotton-mouthed at 2 am on my couch. I chugged a glass of water and moved back to the bed, once again wondering why I'd never moved out of this apartment, bad memories and all.

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I did sleep in, but it was still kind of early when I finally roused myself. I called Rosalie as soon as I'd washed my face and brushed my teeth. She answered in a frazzled voice.

"Hey, Bella, what's up? No, Emma, don't put that in your mouth!" I waited as I heard wrestling in the background. Rosalie was obviously taking on her young daughter. "Emmett, get in here," she shouted. I waited some more, and Rosalie finally came back to the phone.

Rosalie and I had become friends during our internships. We were both assigned to the General Surgery Red team in July, the first month of the first year of intense training post medical school. She was blunt, and while I constantly worried what others thought of me, she could not have cared less. Your effort, what's in your heart, that's what matters, she had taught me. I could have used her in my life a bit sooner.

We became best friends. She filled a void that had been painfully vacant for some time. Even though we no longer worked together after that first year, since she stayed in general surgery for another two years before moving to plastics, we stayed close. I met Emmett at a dual Ortho conference with UT-Houston as a second year resident. I invited him to hang out with us once, and that's all it took. The rest was history. Those two were my support system ever since.

"What's up?" she asked as if nothing had occurred. "It's not like you to call so early on a Saturday. Emmett said you seemed down yesterday morning." Rosalie, as my best friend, was the only person who knew the whole truth behind my aversion to Valentine's Day. I wasn't sure if she'd told Emmett or not. I really didn't want to know, didn't want to see pity in Emmett's gaze when he looked at me.

"I saw Edward yesterday," I finally muttered. She didn't answer right away. The line stayed so quiet that I thought it might have been disconnected.

"What?" she asked as tentatively in a very unlike Rosalie voice. I laughed humorlessly.

"You heard me," I said.

"Edward, Edward?" she questioned idiotically for clarification. I scoffed. She quickly apologized.

"Sorry. I just never expected…how did this happen?" she asked appropriately. I filled her in on the awkward encounter in the clinic. She took a deep breath, and I knew I wouldn't like what she had to say.

"Bella, he's back in Houston. You're done with training. What's to hold you back now? You just told me that he wasn't wearing a ring. Maybe you should feel him out and see if he's up for rekindling things. Lord knows, you haven't really moved on yourself. I still think it was pretty out of line the way he ended things right in the middle of the hospital. Maybe he regrets that with a little time and perspective," she trailed off. It infuriated me. How dare she dangle a happy ending out there for me?

"Rosalie, there is no future with Edward for me!" I shouted at her. "I blew that possibility long ago. He's a successful Major League pitcher now; I doubt he's been waiting on me to get my act together." I shocked myself by starting to cry. I think I shocked Rosalie, too, because she didn't reply right away. I was sure she'd never heard me break down before.

"Okay, Bella, whatever you say. Emmett and I will be here for you whatever you need. Just ask. Please," she pleaded, knowing I wouldn't. So I hung up and curled up on the couch, not knowing what to do next.

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I woke up the next day having dreamed of Edward. It hadn't been specific, only he was with me, kissing my hair, my cheek, my face. I felt loved, and it was hard to wake to the cold reality of my empty apartment. I drifted to the kitchen, to the living room, back to the bedroom. I flipped through channels without really seeing what was playing on television, when, suddenly, I was seized by an idea. I tried to dismiss it, but it wouldn't go away.

I dressed quickly in jeans and a Rice t-shirt before I could change my mind. It seemed fitting to walk, so I did. It was a little over a mile from my apartment to Reckling Park. The season opener had been on Friday, Valentine's Day, but this was the third and final game of the opening series against Stanford. I bought a general admission ticket for $9 and went inside.

I wasn't sure why I was here. I hadn't been to a Rice baseball game since I'd been a student at the school almost ten years ago. If I'd examined things carefully, I guess I would have said that I wanted to feel close to Edward, and this was the best I could do. It was crowded in the stadium. The weather was warm and sunny, a beautiful February weekend afternoon, undoubtedly luring out more spectators.

I took a seat near the back of the general admission area in an almost empty row. A few people glanced my way, likely wondering what I was doing sitting alone. I learned from the giant screen that Rice had won the first two games. I clapped and cheered along with the crowd as our boys made their way up to bat. I'd missed the top of the first inning.

In the top of the second, I watched as Coach Graham gingerly made his way onto the field to protest a call by the third base umpire. The man was undoubtedly elderly at this point but still managed to convey a presence. Seeing him made me think of the way Edward had spoken of him with such awe and respect. I allowed myself to reminisce about the day we'd taken a walk around campus, how we'd talked about Martel and Brown Colleges. I felt like such an idiot for allowing a small fling to affect me the way it had. Something was obviously very wrong with me.

My musings were interrupted in the bottom of the third inning. Stanford had scored several runs in the top of the third, and the crowd was pulling for a come back. Our guys in the dug out were standing at the rail, a few having climbed onto the edge of the field. One of our relievers was warming up in the bullpen.

My eyes drifted to him. I watched him concentrate, pull his glove and the ball into his chest, then lift his right knee into his chest, twisting at the same time to pull the ball behind him in his left hand. His movement was almost too fast to follow when he released the ball to the catcher with an audible thwack, even from where I was sitting. He was a left-handed pitcher, I realized with a clench of my heart.

I was so engrossed in what I was seeing that I didn't notice that I was being watched from the same place I was watching. A man was standing with the pitching coach, and I had caught his attention. This man had hair an unusual shade of red-brown. I gasped when I registered that it was Edward. We sat like that for what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes. Then, I surged to my feet, panicking.

He was obviously visiting his alma mater, hanging out with the team, a treat for them. I don't know why it didn't occur to me that he might be here, but now I felt like a fool for not guessing it was a possibility. I wondered if he thought I was there looking for him. I teetered on the edge of the row and finally decided to make my escape. I fled the stadium and his questioning eyes.

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I took a cold, hard look at myself when I arrived back home. Edward and I would be thrown together over the next several weeks. What was I going to do? I realized that I didn't want to avoid him. Seeing him in the clinic and then seeing him at the baseball field had been painful, but it had been an indulgent sort of pain. I hadn't remembered well enough how intoxicating his presence could be.

I'd grown up over the last several years, and I didn't want to deprive myself. I wanted to bask in having him near. I knew he would never feel the same way about me as I still did for him, but why deny myself the miniscule pleasure of having him around. I decided to do what I had to do to make him feel comfortable around me. And maybe over the weeks of physical therapy, I could somehow learn to move on myself. I thought of how delicious he had looked in the Rice baseball jersey and jeans when I'd seen him in the bullpen earlier and knew it wouldn't be easy.

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I met Carlisle in the OR on Monday morning. I performed the rotator cuff repair and ACL reconstruction without much help from him, my preparation paying off. He murmured praise to me when we were done, and I flushed with the feedback. I was correct in my assessment of the subacromial decompression for the Texan's Offensive Coordinator. I didn't touch that guy. At least Carlisle had the decency to look apologetic about it.

We were headed back to the department offices midafternoon, and I was wondering what I was going to do with myself getting off so early that afternoon. Carlisle inhaled and twisted his mouth in such a way that I quickly recognized he was going to task me with something unpleasant. I swear we'd spent so much time together that I could almost read his thoughts.

"Bella, I need you to do something for me," he began hesitantly. I widened my eyes and lifted my brow with a tilt of my head to show I was listening albeit skeptically. "Edward Masen has decided not to use our physical therapy group here at Baylor, although he wants to continue receiving his medical care here. Of course, we offered to send our people over to work with the team trainers at the Astros facility, but he was very specific," Carlisle sounded a little miffed, but is statement caused my stomach to drop into my toes for a different reason. Why had I not considered something like this before now? I listened to the rest of Carlisle's revelation with dread.

"He has some kind of family or professional connection with a physical therapy firm on the campus of Texas Orthopedic Hospital on Main Street, Whitlock and Associates. He wants to work with them and insists to doing most of his therapy at their facility. Have you heard of it?" Carlisle inquired innocently. I took several deep breaths before I could answer him.

Of course, Edward had stayed in touch with Jasper and wanted to work with him. Alice and I had drifted apart after my split from Edward. She had tried to be supportive, but I don't think she could ever get over her disapproval of how I handled things. She could never understand why I'd let him go so easily. I'd been to Alice and Jasper's wedding in September of 2008, somewhat horrified by the speed in which they finalized things. He had just started PT school.

Edward, thankfully, had been unable to attend, still caught up in the whirlwind of being a first round draft pick and moving to Lynchburg, Virginia, the location of the Atlanta Braves Advanced Single A affiliate. I don't know what I would have done if he had been there. I certainly wouldn't have been able to face him that soon without giving myself away.

But after their wedding, Alice and I couldn't seem to find time for each other anymore. To be honest, it was just too painful to see her. I really hadn't spoken to her in well over a year at this point. And now, Edward was going to receive his physical therapy from their well-respected firm. I'd kept tabs over the last few years. Jasper, along his brother Peter, was very successful. Alice was their practice manager. I turned my attention back to Carlisle.

"I need you to observe a few of his therapy sessions," he was saying, and I turned pale at the thought. "It wouldn't do for me to go over there as faculty. I don't want to insult the owners, but I do need to know what their program entails. I know it's extra work, but I hope you don't mind." Carlisle stared at me hopefully. I laughed and shook my head despite my misgivings. He was really too much.

"Carlisle, you're the attending. I'm the fellow. You're just supposed to tell me what to do, not ask if I'm all right with it," I chided. He grinned in relief.

"Well, Bella, you know I do get a little confused about stuff like that sometimes. And frankly, so do you!" he joked back. I giggled.

"How well I do," I pretended to scoff. The levity was welcome. It allowed me to cover my panic over the coming confrontation. "When is the first session?" He grimaced.

"Well, it's kind of this afternoon. I meant to talk to you about it on Friday, but you weren't feeling well. Can you make it at 4 pm? I already took the liberty of letting Mr. Whitlock know you would be stopping by." He crinkled his brow and squinted one eye as if he was worried I'd strike him. And I wanted to, believe me.

"Yes, of course, I can," I reassured him, hiding my real alarm. "But, I'll need to go change now so I can be on time." He nodded, and I bid him good afternoon. I took a deep breath as I walked away, attempting to steel myself to the coming storm.

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Whitlock and Associates rented space on the ground floor of Texas Orthopedics Hospital, a shiny, white freestanding building on Main Street. I pulled into the patient and visitor parking lot and made my way to the front door. I had never been inside, but I had recently been invited to interview for a physician job to start in the fall. I didn't hold it in the same esteem as the Baylor faculty job, though. I hadn't scheduled the interview yet but entered the main lobby with some curiosity.

The building was tasteful and modern with more of a boutique feel than your typical hospital. The floors in the lobby appeared to be marble with thick carpets laid out on the walkways. Tasteful artwork hung on the walls. A sign directed me to the right past the information desk down a short hallway. I stood before a door that declared this to be the entrance to Whitlock and Associates. I took a deep breath, twisted the knob, and entered.

I found myself in a medium-sized waiting area furnished with reasonably comfortable-looking couches and chairs lining the walls. There was a large-flat screen TV on one wall tuned to ESPN. End tables were scattered throughout with thick stacks of magazines standing on their surfaces. I made my way to the receptionist window. A petite woman with blonde hair and an impossible tan was seated there and smiled at me pleasantly. Her nametag introduced her as Lucy.

"Hi, how can I help you?" she inquired with a thick East Texas accent.

"I'm Dr. Swan," I replied nervously. "I'm here to observe a therapy session. I believe that Mr. Whitlock is expecting me." She let out a little squeak, and her chair took a hop backward.

"Yes, Ma'am, Mrs. Whitlock told me to let her know the second you arrived," she told me in a manner that suggested excitement. I guessed she took her tasking very seriously. My stomach did flips at her words. I'd had no time to prepare myself for an encounter with Alice, and I didn't know how well I'd be received. Lucy was out of her chair and gone before I could say a word.

I stood awkwardly at the window for a moment, and then the door to the main facility swung open to my left. Alice swept through and moved purposefully toward me with a smile. But she stopped short when she reached me. Her arms twitched like she wasn't sure if she should hug me or not.

She looked wonderful. She was dressed as stylishly as always, and her hair was cut in a pixie style that suited her delicate features. As we stared at each other, her smile got away from her, widening further into something that I recognized. I felt my own face pulling into a similar expression. We both took a step forward.

"Bella, it is so good to see you," she exclaimed, and it sounded like she meant it. We closed the distance and put our arms around each other. I sighed in relief. I should have stayed in better touch. Another of my regrets to add to the pile, I thought. She went on.

"When Jasper said he'd been speaking with Dr. Carlisle Cullen, I remembered you talking about him when he was your attending as a medical student. I was sure you worked with him still." It felt good to know that Alice remembered our conversations from years ago just like I did. Then, her welcoming smile faltered.

"I guess you're here to observe Edward's session," she ventured tentatively. I nodded. She seemed to choose her words carefully. "Jasper and Edward have stayed very close friends over the years," she finally finished. I nodded.

"Yes, I assumed that when Carlisle said he needed me to visit your office," I said simply. Alice motioned for me to follow her, and I did. We entered a large open therapy gym littered with mats and other equipment. Two therapists were at work, one with an elderly gentleman on a stationary bike and another helping a middle-aged woman with a lower leg prosthesis walk between parallel bars. The one with the woman was blond and looked very much like Jasper. I figured he must be Peter. I'd never seen the other dark-haired man before.

It looked like there were probably private treatment rooms on the back wall. Alice led me to a series of doors on the outside wall of the space. We entered one that I quickly realized was her office. She motioned for me to sit in one of two chairs situated in front of her desk. She chose the other one instead of sitting behind her desk. I appreciated the friendly gesture, but she spoke seriously.

"So, you're here because you have to be?" she asked carefully. I examined her face trying to discern what answer she wanted to hear.

"Carlisle doesn't know that I have a history with Edward. He asked me to observe a few therapy sessions. I assure you that I can be professional in this situation. I won't cause a scene if that's what you're worried about," I told her with a hint of hurt in my tone. She shook her head.

"I don't doubt that you'll be professional, Bella," she said and stopped. She bit her lip like she wanted to say a lot more. "How are you? Are you doing all right?" she finally asked me. I opened my mouth to tell her I was fine that it had been six years, and it was water under the bridge. But this was Alice. We may not have seen each other in a long time, but I had to tell her the truth.

"I'm fine. It was a shock to see him again; I won't lie. But I'm sure we can work together. I doubt Edward's even thought about me in years. My goal is to get him in top pitching form, just like any good Houstonian," I tried to joke, but it fell flat. Alice watched me appraisingly in silence for longer than necessary. She didn't respond to my jokes or statements.

"Jasper isn't sure this is a good idea. He was going to tell Carlisle not to send you, but I convinced him otherwise. I suspected that it might hurt your standing with Dr. Cullen," she finally said. I gulped and felt my face grow hot at her words. I couldn't answer at first.

"Does Edward know I'm going to be here today?" I managed at last. She shook her head.

"Jasper was hoping you wouldn't come," she admitted. I swallowed hard, suddenly fighting the urge to cry.

"Alice, I can do this," I pleaded softly. I wasn't sure what I was pleading for: my dignity, my reputation as Carlisle's fellow, or just a chance to spend some time with Edward. She smiled sadly.

"I hope you're right, Bella. Let's go. Edward's been here for a few minutes. He's with Jasper in his office." She stood up and motioned for me to follow her down the row of offices. The largest one was in the back corner of the space. The door was closed, so she knocked. I heard a voice call from within.

"Come in." So, she turned the knob and pushed open the door and stepped into the room. I was right behind her.

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A/N: Rice did meet Stanford in the first series of the baseball season this past year, but the games were played in California. A bit of artistic license on my part…