Hi everyone. Sorry for the chapter delay. There were many reasons for the delay, but the biggest reason had to do with struggles with ongoing health issues and it's difficult to be creative when you're distracted or in pain. Thanks for understanding.

For all of your reviews, recs, alerts, communities and favorites, I can't thank you enough, but, THANK YOU.

Thanks MC for your beta skills and fantastic ideas, including the gift—floved it.

Also, I posted a short outtake, I'll tell you at the end of the chapter how to view it if you'd like to read it.

Reminder: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and its characters. This all human story, however, is mine.

Enjoy.

Chapter 23: Reality Bites

Edward and I leaving one another again was hard. I had hoped it would be a bit easier facing time apart knowing that he loved me, but it wasn't. Somehow it seemed to make it worse. Three months was a scarily long time to be separated in any relationship, much less a new one or even more so, one as unique as ours.

Work had been brutal with trying to keep my mind from thinking about the fact that Edward was on his way to Atlanta to begin filming his newest movie; Strange Days. But not only that, more people seemed to be suspicious that I was the woman "Anthony" Cullen was seeing, making it even harder to not think about Edward and concentrate on work. Admittedly, I'd not accomplished much that day.

When I got home that evening, mentally and emotionally exhausted from my day, I headed straight for my bed. I plopped myself down dramatically, wanting to give into the temptation to just go to sleep so I could escape my reality and swim in my dreams where I could be with Edward no matter how far apart we were. Even if it was for just a little while. But when my head landed on the pillow, I felt a lump underneath it, intruding on the comfort I'd sought in my bed. I huffed as I sat up, ready to shove whatever it was, making me uncomfortable, aside so I could feel sorry for myself until my body succumbed to sleep.

I was surprised to find Edward's t-shirt that I had thrown on that morning when I crawled out of bed, and a Post-it note stuck to a blank CD jewel case:

Bella,

I don't know if these will be anything more than this, but I wanted you to have them, because they're yours.

Love,

Edward

PS – I loved how you looked in my shirt this morning. Incredibly sexy. I just had to leave it with you.

I brought the shirt up to my nose and closed my eyes as I breathed in the honey and sunshine smell of Edward. Suddenly my clothes felt restrictive and uncomfortable. I set down the CD case, pulled my clothes off, slipped on a pair of cloth shorts and pulled Edward's soft, cotton t-shirt over my head. I couldn't help but smile as Edward's scent enveloped me as the fabric glided over my face.

I hummed contentedly with the feel of Edward's shirt around me, picked the CD jewel case back up and brought it over to my stereo. I slid the disc in and pressed play. After a couple seconds of silence, a piano began playing. I recognized the melody instantly; it was the song Edward had played for me in his hotel room, the song he'd said he had just started at that time and one of the songs he'd played for me this weekend. After a few bars, Edward's rich, velvet voice began to sing the words.

My hand went up to my face, covering my mouth listening to Edward singing to me, singing a song that not only he recorded for me, but one that was apparently… mine.

My knees felt weak as I sank to the floor, tears instantly spilling over the rims of my eyes, overwhelmed with emotion. I sat there and listened to the whole thing, enraptured from beginning to end.

And then another began. This time it was Edward playing on his guitar—the words no less moving than the last, the song every bit as incredible.

And then another. And another.

My chest filled with warmth, loving him even more than I already did.

Six all together. Six songs. Six incredible songs. Most of them I knew, because he'd played them for me, right here in my apartment, but one of them, I didn't; the last one was new. Though whether I'd heard the song before or not, they all moved me just as much, his words saying that they were mine staring back at me with the note in my hand. He'd written them for me. Inspired by me. About me.

I felt loved, cherished and completely unworthy of such a grand gesture.

Edward had alluded to the fact that he'd written them about me when playing some of the songs for me this weekend, but there was something concrete in seeing it written in his handwriting, that hit me and made it sink in.

When they were done, I pulled in a shaky breath, wiped my eyes and got up to find my phone so I could call him. I had no idea what I was going to say to him, but I needed to somehow tell him what they meant to me, how they made me feel, to thank him for something so beautiful. Somehow, I had to, despite the fact I felt like I couldn't even pull together a linear thought much less figure out how to articulate the… magnitude of emotion I felt with what he'd given me, but felt I needed to tell him.

"Hey there love," Edward's voice greeted me wrapped in a smile on the first ring. "I was just thinking about you. About to call you, actually," he amended, "figuring you were home from work by now."

"Edward," I breathed. I intended to say more but the words were stuck in my throat.

"Bella?" Edward's voice now alarmed. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," I croaked, swallowed and tried to tell him something, anything. "Thank you. For the songs. They're incredible," I murmured because they were nothing short of incredible.

I heard him let out a breath of relief. "I'm glad you liked them," Edward murmured.

"No," I corrected. "I don't just like them. I love them. They're—." I broke off unable to conjure the words to describe just how I felt about them, the words stuck again hidden behind a veil in my head because there were no words adequate enough to articulate just how they made me feel. Instead my eyes began to spill over again with the emotions that flooded me when I thought about the songs. I sniffled as my nose decided to follow my eyes' lead. "Thank you," I choked out instead.

Edward let out a breathy laugh and I could almost guarantee he was running a hand through his unruly bronze hair.

I smiled with the fact that I knew that about him, as I wiped my cheeks and tried to settle the swell of emotion that had washed over me.

"My mistake," he offered. "I stand corrected. I'm glad you love them."

I laughed at Edward's correction and at myself for crying.

"How was your day?" Edward asked after a beat of silence, changing the subject, knowing I'd want him to.

I bit my lip and smiled that he knew that.

"Absolutely terrible. Hell actually. Yours?" I asked; my voice still thick with tears.

"Wretched," he laughed. "Though tomorrow will be worse because I'm positive I'm not going to sleep decent tonight. My body is too accustomed to sleeping wrapped up around you now; it just won't feel right without you beside me."

"Will it help knowing I'm wearing your shirt right now?" I asked.

Edward hummed. "Maybe leaving that behind was a bad idea," he groaned. "I think that's just going to keep me up, torturing me with that image."

"I can send it to you if that will help," I offered.

"No, keep it. I think I like the torture," he laughed.

"Good," I said relieved, not really wanting to give up the shirt.

"Good you like me tortured?"

"No," I laughed. "Good because I like the shirt. It smells like you," I admitted.

"That must mean I don't stink. That's good," he teased.

"Definitely not," I laughed. "Plus it makes me feel like you're still here."

"I wish it was me there instead of the shirt," Edward confessed with a heavy sigh.

"Mmm, you without a shirt; I like it," I mused wantonly.

"You really aren't making this any easier being apart from you," he teasingly chastised.

After I hung up with Edward, I walked back over to the stereo and began playing Edward's songs all over again. In the middle of song three—just before my favorite part—there was a knock at my door.

My heart jerked and then raced at the split second wonder if it was Edward surprising me again. I quickly chastised myself for the thought even flashing through my head, knowing it couldn't possibly be Edward.

I got up and walked over to the door hoping whoever it was would be quick because I wanted to get back to Edward's voice.

"Hey you little brat," Jacob said in an apologetic voice when I answered the door.

"Hey you big jerk," I replied blandly, staring at him holding the door open only enough for me to stand, blocking him from coming in. While he still behaved better than I figured he was going to the night before, and Edward said he wasn't bothered by it, I still was upset with him for acting rude to Edward.

"Can I come in?" he asked tentatively. Jake never had to ask, but he asked tonight because he knew he was on fragile ground with me.

I stood there and thought about it for a minute, in debate, wanting to get back to listening to Edward's voice and trying to gauge whether or not he had come over to give me another lecture, because if that was what I was signing myself up for by letting him in, I wasn't going to. I didn't need another lecture or more of his negative assumptions about Edward. Besides, jumping down my throat with his assumptions was one thing, being unnecessarily rude to Edward was another and he needed to know I wasn't okay with it.

"Come on, Bells," Jake pleaded with a sigh and rolled his eyes. "Don't be like that."

"Edward's not here for you to sneer at for no reason and I'm not really in the mood for another lecture from you right now," my words coming out even more tersely than I'd intended from my miserable day, and miserable forecast for the next few months without Edward, but I didn't need for Jake to tell me I was stupid again too.

"I didn't come to sneer and no lecture," Jake said quietly taking in the way I looked—which was probably red, blotchy and miserable—holding his hands up in surrender. "I promise."

I reluctantly opened the door further and stepped aside, letting him in and then sat down on the couch, curling up on the end and pulling the fabric of Edward's t-shirt to my nose. I smiled despite myself at the scent the fabric still clung onto.

"Want something?" Jake asked holding up a bottle of beer he'd grabbed from my fridge for himself.

"Sure."

Jake opened the beers and walked over to where I sat, but three of the photographs Alice had given me, that sat framed next to my computer, caught his eye. He stopped, looking at them for a moment.

"Who are all the people?" he asked pointing to the one picture. "Well, other than Edward and the Army Force dude Rose hooked up with."

I didn't miss that despite his placating tone and promise to get me to let him in the apartment, his voice still held a resentful tone when saying Edward's name.

"You mean Edward's brother Emmett?"

Jake rolled his eyes. "Yeah."

"Their parents, sister and brother-in-law," I replied. "And me, obviously," I tacked on.

Jake looked a moment longer before taking a deep breath and sighed heavily.

"Look Bells," he said looking up at me, "I owe you an apology." He walked the rest of the way over to the couch, handed me a beer and sat down next to me, taking a drink of his.

I raised my eyebrows and took a drink of my beer. I knew I was being ungenerous but he didn't have to treat me like a child or treat Edward with such unfounded distain.

"I jumped to conclusions and wouldn't consider any other scenario," he continued. "I just don't want to see you go through what you had to with James again. I know that's not really an excuse, but it's the truth. It killed me watching you go through that."

"I know," I conceded with a sigh, because I did know. I didn't like Jacob's approach, but I knew that was his intent—protecting me. "You were just doing what you've done your whole life; looking out for me. But this time, you took it too far. I mean, I can handle you, but that was not okay to act like that to Edward, no matter what you assumed. He's not like James; he really is a good guy, Jake."

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions and not listening to you. I shouldn't have blown up," he said. "At either of you," he added.

"At either of us?" I asked taken aback, confused by what he meant.

Oh, maybe he meant both Rose and me when he'd picked us up from the airport. I opened my mouth to validate my theory but Jake spoke before I could.

"He didn't say anything?" Jake breathed, baffled.

He?

Wait. What? Jake blew up at Edward? My anger at my brother flared back up immediately.

"I take that as a no," he said seeing my face go red with anger.

"What did you do?"

"Accused him of some things, tried to scare him," he admitted.

"Dammit Jacob! What the hell!"

"Come on Bella!" he huffed standing up, towering over me in agitation and defense. "Some of the stuff I read that's out there about him doesn't exactly make him seem like a guy you should get involved with," he defended.

"Right, because everything you read is true," I spat sarcastically. "Take the stories I've read about me since I came back from New York, speculating who I am. One article I read said I was Edward and Emmett's long lost sister. Another said I was the mother of Edward's baby and had tracked him down to get him to pay child support. And another said I was his new personal assistant slash plaything. So, going by your theory, I guess Edward and I had an incestuous relationship that resulted in a lovechild, am now working for him and blowing him for good measure. I hope Mike isn't mad at me for not giving him any notice of leaving the company."

"Look," Jake said trying to make peace. "I said I'm sorry! And, while I still don't trust him yet, I realized that I'm going to have to just trust you to know what you're getting into because, as much as I don't want you to have to go through what you did again, I know that you want it even less. So, if you don't think he's like that, I'll work on trying to believe that too."

"Thanks," I said semi-sarcastically. "For—you know—finally remembering I'm grown up and have maybe learned from my past mistakes," I said giving him a pointed look.

Jake rolled his eyes at me. Then he plopped back down beside me.

I sighed, and sat there for a moment until my petulance had drained before I said anything else.

"Don't let this give you any ideas, go to your head or make you think acting like a complete and total ass was okay, because it wasn't," I qualified after a few moments of silence, "but it is nice to know you care that much about me."

I nudged his shoulder with mine.

"Anytime you little brat," he said softly nudging my shoulder back and smiled one of his big Jacoby smiles.

XXXXX

It was Wednesday, two days after Edward left—not that I was counting—and it was also his birthday.

It felt wrong that I wasn't with him for it. It was his first birthday that we were together and I was thousands of miles apart from him. Instead of spending the day with him, or planning something for us to do together that night, all I could do was send him a text to tell him "happy birthday" because I couldn't get ahold of him on his phone. I'd called when I'd gotten up for work, but Atlanta is four hours ahead of Port Angeles in time, so he was already unreachable, probably working on a scene or something.

I understood it, but it still… sucked.

I walked into my apartment after work, threw my phone and keys on the table and headed over to the computer to check to see if the gift I'd bought Edward had arrived at his hotel yet. Then I turned on the CD that Edward had left under my pillow for me.

The sound of a piano filled my apartment, followed by Edward's velvet voice a few bars later. His voice was beautiful, powerful and enigmatic; it was a voice that was made to be heard and marveled at by the world, but no one knew it, and no one probably ever would.

I smiled at the memory of Edward playing the start of that very song to me in his hotel room in New York. And what followed.

The next thing I knew bittersweet tears began pooling in my eyes. Hearing Edward's voice made me both extremely happy and painfully sad at the same time. I needed to hear his voice to feel like he was still there with me, like he had just been a few nights before when he played for me in my bed, but hearing his voice also shot a sharp pain through my chest. On top of that, there were the lyrics he'd written. Knowing they were for me—that he'd written them with me in mind, written how he'd felt about me—was an overwhelming feeling. I didn't feel worthy of such a grand tribute, and it never failed to blow me away, no matter how times I listened to the songs. But the sound of conviction in Edward's voice, as he sang the words he'd written, said that he felt I absolutely and undoubtedly was nothing short of worthy.

I sat down and stared at the framed photographs on my desk that Alice had given me the other day, as my computer woke up. One was of Edward, looking especially heartbreaking, with his arm around me. I marveled at the fact that I didn't look like the extremely plain woman that had always greeted me in the mirror my whole life. It seemed especially surprising I didn't look ordinary with someone as strikingly handsome as Edward next to me. Instead, I looked closer to the stranger I tried to find in the mirror just before we had left Carlisle and Esme's earlier that same night. I couldn't help but smile at Edward in the photo, looking like he thought he was the lucky one. The second picture was one of me with Alice and Emmett. I laughed remembering Emmett and how he had gotten upset after Edward had taken a picture of Alice and me, per her request, and then set down the camera on the table. Emmett told his siblings that it wasn't fair that he didn't get a "photo op with the little spinner girl" too and made Edward take another picture of me with him in it that time. The last framed photograph was the one of Edward's whole family with their genuinely happy smiles that seemed to come from simply being together. It was my favorite of the three. In that one, Edward and I weren't looking at the camera, but at each other, not realizing the person taking the picture was ready, giving secret smiles that screamed the words that neither of us had said out loud to one another yet.

My fingers dragged down the group photograph wishing I could reach through and relive that moment all over again.

I sighed and picked up the stack of all the other snapshots Alice had given me from that night, laughing despite myself when I got to the one of Emmett and me. Right after the picture of Alice, Emmett and me, Emmett had swiftly pulled me onto his lap saying something about an exclusive picture. Edward quickly snapped the camera, capturing my surprise and Emmett's playfully mischievous laughter.

It had only been a few days since that night, but it felt like it had been an eternity, like it was something far away and not quite reachable. But I realized that fact shouldn't surprise me because there was something about Edward that made everything around him feel like a fairytale; like something that I'd wake up from and find it had only been an amazing dream.

At this moment, as I sat sifting through snapshots in front of my computer, I had him all around me—his voice, his music, his photographs—but he was nowhere to be found; evanescent.

I took a deep breath to clear my thoughts as I set down the photos, opened the browser, pulled up the website and entered the tracking information. My stomach fluttered with a round of nerves seeing the status indicated, "Delivered" with a time stamp of 2:17 pm that day.

I steeled myself with the reminder that just because the package had arrived at his hotel, didn't mean he had it—I didn't know if he was even back to the hotel yet from the set.

Or that he'd even like it.

I felt my stomach knot with worry that he would hate the gift and feel like he had to tell me he liked it anyway. My worry was fed with the fact that I'd had no idea what to get him. For one, he was a person who was want for nothing. But also, I knew I still had a lot to learn about him.

What I had ended up deciding on giving Edward was a beautiful looking leather journal I'd found online and had the leather embossed with his initials in the corner. I thought he could use it to write his songs in as they came to him, especially if he didn't have an instrument handy.

I felt nervous enough about the gift anyway, but even more so because I didn't get to see it first to make sure it actually was as nice in reality as it had appeared on the site. But I didn't have any other choice but to send it to him blindly. I barely had enough time to get it to him on his birthday shipping it directly to his hotel, so I just had to use blind faith that it was as nice as it appeared on the site.

This morning I had called the hotel. After passing all the security steps proving I wasn't some crazed fan or the media and actually someone Edward had cleared to know his whereabouts, I'd let them know that a package should arrive sometime during the day for him. Then I instructed them to open the shipping box—as I'd had the journal giftwrapped—and if he wasn't back to the hotel yet, to put the wrapped package inside it, in his room.

It felt uncomfortable, task managing another person like that, but the man made it seem like it wasn't the slightest trouble, saying he was more than happy to help. Actually the man had even asked me if I wanted to have him include a note with the package. I was rather glad he'd mentioned it because I hadn't thought about it. But after he had, it seemed obvious; I mean Edward should know who the gift came from.

A new song began playing on the CD, filling my apartment with the sound of a guitar.

I closed the browser and went to my bedroom to slip on a comfy pair of cloth pants and Edward's t-shirt. I again sucked in a deep breath as I pulled the shirt over my head, inhaling the honey and sunshine smell of him that lingered on the fabric, noticing the scent was already fading. I held the fabric up to my nose and took another deep breath trying to get as much of my drug as I could while it lasted.

My phone sang out with what had been my newest favorite song, until I heard the songs Edward had given me, but those weren't available for ringtones. I walked back into the living room, paused the CD and then walked over to the table to grab my phone.

My heart leapt. It was Edward.

Nerves assaulted my stomach with fears about him receiving his present.

"Happy Birthday Edward," I greeted, smiling despite my nerves.

Edward let out a long humming sigh. "It's so good to hear your voice, love," he said, a smile evident in his voice.

"I guess I have the advantage there, I've already been listening to yours," I admitted.

"Funny you should mention that," Edward said breathing a laugh. "I sent a copy of those songs to Dem and Felix to see if they wanted to include any of them for their next album. Dem texted me today saying something like, 'these are some brilliant songs man,'" he said, slipping into an impression of Dem's voice, "'but whoever turned you into a sappy little pansy needs to piss you the fuck off because we can't have an entire album full of this,'" Edward laughed more hardily.

"I guess… I'll work on that?" I said laughing with him.

"I'm glad to know you're willing to sacrifice for the greater good," Edward joked. After a beat, he continued. "So I just got into my room and found something lying at the foot of my bed that looks a lot like a present," he said in a playful tone. My heart began to pound. "And there's a note on top that says it's from… you."

"Interesting."

"Interesting is right," he agreed. I could hear the smile in his voice. "I thought I told you all I wanted from you for my birthday was to spend the weekend with you, and I already got that."

"And I told you that I wanted to get you something for your birthday," I reminded him stubbornly, noticing my voice quavered lightly with nerves begging him to just get it over with and tell me if he hated it or not. I took a deep breath to try to settle them.

"Yes, that you did," he admitted. "So, in that case, I guess I should open it then, since you're not here to watch me open it. Unless, that is, you are…?" he asked sounding hopeful.

He hadn't seen it yet? Suddenly I felt a lot of pressure for this gift to be perfect. I could feel my blood pressure rise.

"No, it's just the package, I'm still here in Port Angeles," I admitted sadly.

"Hmmm," the sound was filled with disappointment. Then he took a breath and continued. "Well I have to say, I'm impressed you were able get something delivered not just to the hotel but onto the foot of my bed. I believe someone here at the hotel must be a fan of yours," he teased.

"I told you that you'd be amazed with the things I can do," I quipped, trying to shake my nerves, glad he couldn't see me. I was certain my cheeks were cherry red.

"You did. And I am. Every day," he said. Then I could hear the sound of paper rustling and crinkling as he removed the wrapping paper.

My heart raced.

I heard the sound of cardboard paper scraping against each other; he was opening the box.

I held my breath.

Next came the sound of tissue paper shuffling and crumpling. Then nothing.

I closed my eyes, though I wasn't exactly sure why.

"I thought you could use it as a music journal of sorts; you know to write down your songs," I blurted, the words spilling out when I released the breath I'd been holding, trying to save him from giving an instant reaction.

"Bella, this is…" he trailed off. "It's beautiful. I love it," his words dripping with sincerity.

"Really?" I asked scrunching my nose, regretting the question instantly. I wasn't sure I really wanted to know if he really meant what he'd said.

"Yeah, really," Edward breathed. "You had my initials put on it," he said noticing the detail, sounding like he'd liked that.

"Yeah, I wanted to personalize it for you but I didn't want to use your name, for obvious reasons, so I figured I'd use your initials," I babbled feeling I sounded lame.

"You put a lot of thought into this" he marveled.

"Well, as much thought as I could with the short notice I was given," I couldn't help but tease him, feeling myself relax a little.

"Thank you Bella, it's perfect," he breathed sounding completely sincere.

"You're welcome, Happy Birthday Edward. I love you," I murmured, smiling.

"I love you too, Bella."

XXXXX

Rose came over that Saturday and practically dragged me out of the apartment to shed Edward's shirt that no longer smelled like him and go to a kickboxing class with her. I'd not seen her or barely even talked to her all week. I really hadn't done much of anything outside of go to work, which wasn't too productive with half the day seeming to be spent on dodging questions from suspicious, over-curious co-workers and everywhere else I went it felt like eyes were on me, speculating and wondering if I was the woman seen with "Anthony" Cullen. It felt like I wore a sign that said, "It's me!". So I stayed at home, wrapped up in Edward's shirt, listening to him singing in his velvety voice.

I was pathetic. I knew this, but damn it I didn't much care. I missed him so much it hurt, so I immersed myself in the things that made the pain a little less.

As much as I complained and resisted, if I was being honest, I had to admit that I was grateful for Rose kicking me in the ass to pull me out of my doldrums, because I needed it. I needed to stop wallowing because, while it seemed to dull the ache from missing Edward, I knew all it really was doing was highlighting and underlining the fact he wasn't there. And, if this was going to be way of life for us for a while, I needed to find a way to deal with it that didn't isolate me from the functioning world. I needed a distraction and Rose knew it and she also knew I wasn't going to be able to yank myself out of my wallowing.

She'd done it after James and there she was, doing it again because that's what Rose did.

We went to class, grabbed a late lunch and got caught up. I thought she was going to drive off the road when I told her Edward told me he loved me. And of course she knew before I even told her, that I loved him too. I also told her all about Edward and Emmett's family, how it went when I showed up with Edward to pizza night with mine and how Jake had come over the following night and apologized.

In turn, Rose told me how Royce flipped out when he'd gotten wind of her vacation tryst with Emmett. They had a huge argument about it. Royce apparently got on her about how the picture of her and Emmett at the concert made her look, saying something about how she was going to have a hard time explaining that to Henry when he got older.

"I don't know what bug crawled up his ass and died; it was a picture of me kissing a guy. It wasn't like it was a sex video for Christ's sake," Rose spat.

"Maybe it's because he still has feelings for you," I offered.0

Rose let out a scornful laugh. "No, it all started because Royce had Henry on Friday, but he swung back to my place because Henry forgot his blanket and couldn't sleep. Emmett got to the door before I could."

"So that was where Emmett disappeared to!" I said. "But wait. So Emmett answered the door to your place? Why would that matter?"

"He didn't have a shirt on," she admitted.

"Okay, that makes it maybe a little more awkward, but..." I trailed off, still not understanding the reason for Royce to get so upset other than my theory that he still had feelings for her.

"After Royce recovered from his shock at who answered my door," she continued, "and got the blanket, he got all high-and-mighty and made some sarcastic comment about the 'great' example I was setting for our son," Rose's anger at the insinuation was obvious. "Then the next day he came back while his mom had taken Henry to the park. He was a total fucking dick. After his run-in with Emmett, he'd gone online that night and found all the pictures from New York. He told me I made myself look like a slut and how it was going to make Henry embarrassed to call me his mother. What an ass. I should 'accidentally' upload a compromising photograph of him to the internet just to get to tell him to try to explain that to Henry.

"I won't. But I should," she added after a few beats of silence. "I mean really, how old is he? Seventeen for Christ's sake? What an asshole."

"So what happened with Emmett?" I prompted.

"Besides the obvious?" she qualified.

I nodded.

"I told him I'd think about it," she said. "God help me I want to. But I can't see how it could work."

I winced. That remark stung.

"I didn't mean it like it sounded," Rose said quickly, seeing my reaction. "I meant I can't see how it could work for me. I'm in a different situation than you are with a kid to think about."

"Yeah, I know," I said, knowing that was what she meant, but her words still prickled at me because I knew the odds were stacked against Edward and me. "And while I know you're trying to think about Henry, but how do you think he'd feel when he's grown up, if he finds out that you missed out on your chance at happiness with a guy, passing it up because of him?"

"You don't know that," she retorted, but her words were thin.

"No I don't know that for sure, but are you really willing to wonder the rest of your life?"

XXXXX

"Meet me in LA?" Edward asked, his words sounding more like a plea than a question when he called me during a break on set a couple weeks later. He'd been gone almost three weeks; I swear it felt like three years.

I was ready to meet him anywhere not caring if work would say okay or not and it wasn't just because the media found out who I was. Now instead of speculating glances and suspicious whispers, it was abrasive attention and full on gossip. Plus it was like the media had dug up every last minute of my life, twisted it and then published it for the world to see and judge. And judge they did.

Sigh.

Edward, after making sure I was okay with it, finally answered the incessant requests from the media, now that they knew my name, to comment on what I was to him. He had his Publicist release a statement saying that he and I were indeed together.

He released a statement about our relationship status to the press. I marveled at how completely bizarre it sounded, but at the same time somehow made it all seem official in some strange way that everything else hadn't yet.

"When?" I asked, getting my mind back to Edward's question. I could feel my heart pick up its rhythm at the mention of LA. I could do LA. LA meant I shouldn't have to beg, borrow and steal an entire week of vacation or quit my job to be able to see him before he was done filming.

"A week from Tuesday," he said, a smile of excitement in his voice. The same excitement I could feel rising up in me at that moment. "Love of Ire is having their Premiere and they've agreed to release me on good behavior."

I laughed. "You make it sound like you've been held against your will or something."

"It kind of feels like I am," he admitted laughing with me and I knew he was running his hand through his hair. "Don't get me wrong, I love what I do, but I'm having the hardest time being away from you. God, I miss you, Bella."

"I know the feeling," I breathed.

"So meet me in LA."

"How long are you going to be there?"

"Just a day," he admitted. "I'm going to fly over Tuesday afternoon, going to the airport straight from the set and have to fly back Wednesday evening to be back on set Thursday morning. Apparently the longest they can survive without me is a day-and-a-half."

"I'll make it work," I promised knowing it should be easier to get a couple of days in the middle of the week off than Fridays and Mondays.

Who was I kidding? I was almost to the point of doing something rash and saying to hell with work. I found myself seriously questioning if I'd be able to live away from Edward like this again and I was finding it becoming almost impossible to convince myself I could keep doing it, which meant I had some serious thinking to do before he went away again to wherever he would be off to next.

"I was really hoping you'd say that," he said with a smile in his voice. "I already had Irena book everything for you."

"Edward," I began to admonish.

"You said you'd let me pay for you to come see me," he pointed out smugly.

"I did," I admitted sullenly, though I couldn't wipe the smile off my face.

"Yes, love, you did," he repeated victoriously.

"Yeah, well you seem to be my weakness," I told him. "Plus missing you has made me a little crazy."

"I know what you mean," Edward agreed.

"Well, I guess Rose will get to take me shopping," I said realizing I had nothing to wear to a movie Premiere, I didn't even know what I should wear.

"No need. Alice has already insisted that she'll take care of that."

"I guess I should talk to her about that then," I said. "She doesn't need to do that."

"Actually, I think it's already done," Edward admitted sheepishly. "Besides there's really no point in reasoning or arguing with Alice, I learned that years ago."

"But she doesn't have to—"

"Trust me Bella, she wants to."

"Okay then, I guess," I said, having a hard time conceding to gifts of any kind.

"Good. It's settled then," Edward said and I could hear his smile. "I'll tell Irena to send you the details. I have to get back but I'll talk to you later?"

"Yeah, I'll call you when I get home from work."

After we said our goodbyes and "I love yous", I set down my phone, letting the feeling of happiness fill every last bit of me; soaking in the feeling for a moment before I came back down to earth. I felt I radiated with my happiness. I needed to see Edward. And in just over a week, I would.

As always, I love to know what you think. Let me know by clicking the review button and saying a few words.

Curious about Jacob and Edward's exchange of words? I posted that short outtake separately as it didn't fit in the flow of the story like the last one had. You can access it here: http: / / www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/7799303/1/

(Just delete spaces and replace the "(dot)"s with periods.) Or by going to my profile page.

The black leather journal was MC's brilliant find. Here's a link to it: http:/ / www(dot)aspinaloflondon(dot)com/eshop-catalogue/albums-and-books/leather-journals-and-notebooks/italian-wrap-leather-journals/italian-wrap-extra-large-leather-journal

(Just replace the (dot)s with periods.) Thanks again for that, MC, it was absolutely perfect.