We used to be close, but people can go

From people you know, to people you don't

And what hurts the most is people can go

From people you know, to people you don't

~ Selena Gomez, People You Know

BPOV

I didn't have enough fingers to count how many times I had hoped for the normalcy my life once consisted of the last few months. I would constantly long for time when my days were consumed by school and my biggest worry was passing an upcoming exam, not my secret affair with my married client getting exposed.

I had that level of normalcy again. I woke up. Went to the gym, albeit more and more begrudgingly, every day. Then I walked into work where I had been harshly demoted to my true, entry-level position of junior publicist. After eight hours of a frustrating but thankful reprieve from my nightly thoughts, I went home. Ate dinner. Refused Rosalie's offers to talk or go out or do anything.

I told myself I was fine. I gave myself two days the weekend I ended things to mope. I didn't leave my bed for nearly forty-eight hours and I cried more often than not, but they were selfish tears.

This was what Edward needed. The freedom to start living his life how he wanted it, not how he thought he owed it to other people. Even though I knew I was going to be kind of miserable for a while, it was a big comfort to know that maybe I had started him on a road to eventual happiness.

The vision of Edward being happy with someone else also sent this stabbing pain through my chest. I was working on the whole selfless thing, though.

"Hey, Bella?" Ben Cheney asked, coming to lean over my tiny cubicle wall. "Can I get your opinion on something?"

Ben was also the son of the boss, the Cheney half of Newton & Cheney. John Cheney had done a much better job at raising his son than William Newton had. Ben worked as hard as anyone at the firm, and did it with a smile on his face. I had known him for years; we started at UCLA together and, being on the same career path, ended up in a lot of the same classes. We interned here together, and started at the same time.

"Sure," I answered, saving the document I was typing up.

"I'm working on this press release for Kyle's client. What's a polite way to say sorry I've harassed half of my female staff without actually saying it?"

I shook my head at his description, but it was pretty spot on. Ben handed me what he had typed up so far, but before I could start reading the whole office's attention turned toward the door.

I noticed Mike's desperate voice first. "Mr. Cullen, it would really be easier for everyone if you – "

"I don't care about making things easier for you," Edward grunted.

I held my breath, watching him stand at the front of the office and look around. He was wearing a pale blue button down, tucked into his jeans with his sleeves rolled up. And he was pissed if the deep wrinkles between his brows were any indication.

Once he locked in on me his entire demeanor softened as he maneuvered through the office. With the pressure my teeth were gnawing on my bottom lip, I was lucky it wasn't bleeding by the time he got to me.

"Sorry to interrupt," Edward said politely, looking at Ben. "Could I talk to you for a few minutes… Alone?"

My answer came about twenty seconds later than appropriate because I was still a little shell shocked at his sudden appearance. "Um, yes. Sure."

I stood up rather clumsily. Bumping my knees on my desk and almost tripping over the chair beneath me, but once I was on my own two feet I pointed across the office, toward a couple of conference rooms.

"Is everything okay?" I asked quietly, closing the door behind us. I turned to face him, expecting an answer, but he was quiet. Leaning against the large table, arms crossed and eyes on me.

"Sorry for barging in," he said softly.

"That's okay."

Edward's voice was flat and low when he spoke. "Did you ask to drop me as a client?"

I frowned and answered quickly. "No." The puzzle filled in pretty quickly, though. "Newton wants Mike to take the credit for everything now that you're an easier client."

"He's trying to give his son the credit for your work?"

I shrugged. "Probably. Mike does the bare minimum. Newton would love his name on a successful client, if only to make himself look better."

Edward sighed. "I thought you… maybe you changed your mind," he said quietly.

I swallowed back a lump in my throat and took a moment to convince the stinging behind my eyes to go away. "No, I – As long as you're okay with me being your publicist I will be. But… maybe this is a good thing. I mean, I don't think you should choose Mike because he's a fucking idiot, but there are plenty of other – "

Edward's vehement shaking of his head stopped me. "I trust you. Not them."

His eyes softened, never straying from my face. I could imagine I looked a little bit like a deer in headlights or a scared puppy because I knew what was coming. I crossed my arms over my chest, digging my nails into my skin as a distraction.

"I know this isn't the time or place for this discussion but I… I don't want to hurt you, Bella," he said softly. "I need some time to – "

"I'd rather… not have to think about what I said that night ever again," I admitted. "I'm sorry. I- I shouldn't have said that. And I know where things stand between us. I just…" I sighed, not really sure where I was going. "Can we forget I ever said it? Go back to how things were before New York?"

In my mind, I imagined a flash of hurt behind Edward's eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, please."

Edward nodded. "Okay."

"So," I mumbled, looking for anything else to change the subject to. "How long did Mike last before you kicked him out of the theater?"

Edward sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "About three minutes. Kid's a real prick. I walked in this morning and he was sitting with his feet on my desk."

"The show's desk?" I asked, getting a nod in response. That was one of Edward's most coveted possessions. He had a real thing about other people touching that desk for one reason or another.

"I'm surprised he made it here in one piece, then," I added with a genuine smile. I got one from him in return, too. One that made that made my heart twist in my chest and remind me that I just promised him I was fine, that I could go back to how things were. There couldn't be playful conversation or knowing smiles, not anymore.

I pressed my lips together, erasing my smile completely. "Was there anything else you needed?"

"No," Edward sighed, the momentary playful glint in his eyes disappearing. Before I opened the door, he whispered, "Thank you… for not changing your mind."

-B-

I sat in the same audience chair I once spent an afternoon working in. The theater was bustling with people, none of which were familiar. It was Saturday so the regular faces I had grown accustomed to seeing were probably enjoying a relaxing weekend at home. The new faces roaming around were the film crew brought in by Rolling Stone.

It was quite the get, a Rolling Stone cover. Especially because Edward wasn't a musician. They did a handful of non-musical stories on a regular basis, but you had to really work with them to get a non-musical cover. Thankfully, the name Cullen opened a lot of doors.

There would be a few video specials for their online article, filmed this morning before Edward and the journalist sat down for their in-depth interview this afternoon. All part of the plan to show the public the softer side of Edward that had been forgotten in the last few years.

I had talked with Edward sporadically in the few days since he showed up at the office. Topics for the interview were approved in between awkward silences over the phone. All in all, a pretty sucky week preceded this pretty sucky weekend.

There was a commotion to my right and I saw the familiar group walk in. Edward hovered over most of them and as soon as I saw his messy copper hair I turned my attention back in front of me.

The two weeks since I had ended things had done nothing for my infatuation. I missed the way I could sometimes feel him smile into a kiss and the conversations about nothing we would have in his bed at three in the morning. I missed how he made me not feel so uncomfortable in social situations when he was around. And I missed the way I had deluded myself for a month into thinking he was kind of mine.

I jumped at the sound of my name. "Bella?"

Of course, Edward stood in front of me. Tall and wearing a t-shirt that left the impressively sculpted muscles on his biceps free for everyone to see.

"Hi," I mumbled, sitting up in my uncomfortable audience chair.

"You're here early."

I shrugged. "Bobby let me in."

"Bobby?" Edward asked, brows raised. "The janitor?"

I nodded. Bobby was probably the nicest person in the whole building. He said good morning to me, without fail, every day when I walked in. He knew everyone's name and what they did. Would talk to you if he thought you were having a bad day, which was pretty common for me since I was in love with my boss. He vehemently fought me on paying him to hang a birthday sign over Edward's office for me, until I finally won.

"Um, is that okay?" I asked, frowning at his frown. "I thought you knew I'd be here. I can leave, if you really want. The journalist could try and pull one over on you, though, and I – "

"I'm glad you're here, Bella," he interrupted softly. "I actually had something to talk to you about, if you had time."

"Oh, sure. Um, in your office?"

Edward nodded and I got up quickly, grabbing my bag and following him through the familiar hallway. We walked past his dressing room and I saw Alice surrounded by racks of clothes, Masen and Lucy with her.

I fidgeted once I sat in the chair across from his desk. My dress was navy blue with a large, dark green checkered pattern. It had a modest, high neckline and I had the sleeves rolled up, considering it was July. The hem of it would be destroyed by the end of this meeting.

Edward let out a heavy sigh before starting. "My lawyer is filing the divorce papers on Monday."

I froze for a moment, staring over at him, surprised he was actually doing it. In the back of my mind, in a place where I never let my mind wander, I had convinced myself that he still loved Irina in some way. That had to be why he stayed married to her for so long, even while she was off with Demetri. Maybe he had been waiting it out, biding his time until she came back to him. Or maybe he was the kind of guy that didn't care about the monogamy thing.

The night Rosalie set me up with one of Emmett's friends flashed through my mind. The firm hands and hard kisses and almost desperate pleas to be his. That wouldn't come from a man who was okay sitting back and watching someone he cared about be with someone else.

"Bella?"

I snapped out of my mind, feeling my cheeks flush at the memories floating through my head of the man sitting across from me. Who was now getting a divorce. So he could move on with someone else. An all too familiar knot of dread weighed down my stomach.

"Okay," I nodded, focusing on the topic at hand now, and not my frustrating feelings. "From the file… was there a specific way you wanted to try and play it?"

It didn't matter that Edward wasn't one for press; when you're the host of one of the few main late-night television shows and the son of one of the most influential couples in the industry, it was news. That would get dissected and misinterpreted and discussed a hundred different times the first day it was announced.

Edward shrugged, his eyes looking a little lost. "With the truth."

I leaned on the arm of my chair, biting at my nails and thinking. "We should postpone the interview. Next weekend at the earliest."

Edward looked at me, brows raised.

"You're going to want every opportunity you can to set the record straight once the public gets ahold of the truth."

"Okay," he nodded.

The last thing I wanted to do was bring up that disastrous night, but I had to. "Was there anything from the, uh, file I gave you that you wanted to use, or didn't want to use?"

Edward pushed a piece of paper toward me. "I… liked this one, best."

It was one of the dozens of press releases that had been in his folder. It was the one I figured he was least likely to ever want, because it was the truth. The years of separation, the separate houses, Irina's life with Demetri, it was all in there.

"Okay," I nodded. "I'll send it to a couple outlets Monday morning."

Edward let out a heavy sigh, scrubbing his hands over his face. "I'm sorry you have to clean up my mess," he told me, voice gruff. "I'm sorry I can't trust anyone else to do it. I-I'm sorry I fucked this whole thing up, Bella."

I wanted to tell him he didn't have to apologize, that he didn't fuck anything up, but he kind of did. Fuck up my entire life. Every carefully crafted wall I had built up around me was crumbled and I was left exposed to so many elements that I didn't know how to deal with.

Days when I didn't see him were okay at best. Days like today, I didn't really know how to look him in the eye after the number of times he had seen me naked. Part of me wanted to tell him I couldn't do it anymore, knowing it was only going to get harder now that he was going through with the divorce. But, then he would say things about how he didn't trust anyone else and I just couldn't turn my back on him. Not after all of this.

I sighed and stood up. "We can finish the video content today, but I'll reschedule the interview for next weekend."

I caught a slight wince, maybe when he realized I didn't let him off the hook for fucking things up. But he nodded nonetheless. "Thank you."

-B-

When I got home that night I ended up sitting on the couch for longer than should be acceptable, staring at a black television. I had hours of work to do now that I knew Edward was filing divorce papers Monday, but I couldn't bring myself to move. I was tired and sad and suddenly furious with him.

Up until this point I had blamed the whole thing on myself. My naivety, my inexperience, my butterflies. My conversation with him this morning made me realize it wasn't just my fault, though.

Edward backed me up against a wall, literally, that first night in New York. He was the one with the playful smirks the next morning, talking about us enjoying each other. He was the one with the emerald eyes it was impossible to say no to.

It was a completely consensual relationship and that meant both of us were equally responsible for the whole, messy situation. Not just me. I was responsible for agreeing to still work for him when I was hopelessly in love with the guy. Something I was now realizing was increasingly torturesome.

"So, are you ready to talk about it?" Rosalie's voice broke me out of my thoughts.

My eyes snapped up to see her standing in front of the television, still in her clothes from the gym. The woman was a personal trainer and basically sweat for a living but still came home looking more put together than I ever felt.

"Talk about what?"

Icy blue eyes rolled at me. "The affair you were having with your boss, Bella. You've been avoiding the subject for two weeks, and it's obviously not working."

I sighed, shoulders sagging and energy draining. The whole secrecy thing was exhausting. I still felt like I shouldn't talk about it, and it wasn't like I was going to be blabbing everything around town.

Rose nodded, realizing she won me over. "This calls for chips, queso, and margaritas. Get changed and we'll leave in twenty."

Thirty minutes later I flopped into a booth in the back on a little Mexican restaurant down the street from us.

"Okay," Rosalie sighed after ordering the necessities. "Spill."

I took her instruction to heart and spilled everything. The hopeless crush I tried to kill for my first month working for him to the dinner Edward took me out for our first night in New York. I glossed over the illicit moments, even though I could tell Rosalie was holding back questions about it. I told her about the morning coffees and stolen nights when we were alone. She interrupted me when I told her about my meeting with Esme and Alice.

"That was a pretty shitty thing to do," Rosalie grumbled across from me. "Tricking you into taking the blame if he got mad at the suggestion. And talk about an invasion of privacy. First his mother hires a publicist without his permission then uses said publicist to convince him to get a divorce?"

"They were just trying to help him. The whole situation… it's a mess." Yeah, it seemed Esme and Alice had a history of stepping into other people's business. But, if I had spent sixteen years being forced to spend time with Irina, I'd be looking for any possible way out, too.

Rose shrugged. "No offence, but the guy sounds like a bit of a pussy."

"Rosalie!" I scolded, frowning in her direction.

"You can't play sweet, innocent little Bella anymore. Not when you've been having hot, secret sex for a month without telling me a single detail."

I blushed, thankful we were in the back corner of the restaurant and there was no one near. I quickly bypassed her pressing for explicit details. "He's not… he just got complacent, I think. And worried about what the divorce and subsequent media circus would do to his kids. He was just trying to keep from getting anyone hurt."

"Yeah, well, he kind of broke you in the process, didn't he?"

I shook my head. "I'm not his problem. It was just sex and I took it too far, Rosalie. I was very aware of the dynamic the whole time."

I sat back and took a sip of my water, having switched to the more hydrating option after my second margarita. Even after the hours of talking things through, I hadn't solved anything. It felt good, though, finally getting everything I had been holding in out of me.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Rosalie asked quietly.

I let out a heavy sigh, looking over at the only friend I had ever been able to keep. "Because you would have tried to talk some sense into me."

Rose nodded. "Can I talk some sense into you, now?"

I shrugged. "You can try."

"I think some distance would do you good. I know you work for the guy, but maybe do as much as you can via emails or phone calls. It might help you get desensitized to everything."

I had tried the whole distance thing before, but that had been while I was still seeing him every day regardless. Maybe now that I wasn't working exclusively at the theater, I could really commit to it.

-B-

It was easy to distance myself from Edward once the news got out about his divorce because I was busier than I had ever been. It was a bloodbath of fake stories and insider scoops for a while, and I made a point to discredit every single one I could find. Ones involving his children typically didn't stay up for more than twelve hours.

Of course, there was also a lot of truth in some of the articles and I couldn't really do much about those. People tended to side with Edward, considering he wasn't the one with a live-in significant other for the past seven years. But, there were also a handful of people, like Rosalie, who thought he was less of a man for putting up with it in the first place.

Thankfully, considering there were two minors involved, all of their divorce proceedings were confidential. No one was going to know any details about the prenup that we didn't want out, or custody agreements or alimony or anything. As long as Irina kept her mouth shut.

It had been two months since spilling my guts to Rosalie and I committed to the whole distance thing. I had seen Edward four times during that period; two interviews, and two photoshoots. I even managed avoiding saying a single word to him at the last shoot.

It made things easier in the sense that I didn't get that same soul-crushing depression I tended to get when I spoke to him, coming from the realization that I was hopelessly in love with a man I couldn't have. But, it also made me realize that the distance thing wasn't working as fast as I had hoped, because I missed him.

The whole situation made me revert to my not-so-healthy habits of staying up until three in the morning working or pushing off my own issues until they hit me in the face, literally. All reasons I had cracked and made an appointment with a therapist this afternoon.

First, I had the unfortunate job of dropping off a box of advance prints of Edward's two magazine covers that were delivered to me instead of him. It was a Friday afternoon, so I should have been able to safely drop them off at his place without running into him, but he had the day off.

Ashley, the musical guest during Edward's Saturday Night Live episode, called and distracted me on my drive over. She had called me a couple times in the last few months, all discussing her publicity and what she wanted to do and how to accomplish it.

"You work for a bunch of dicks, did you know?" she asked, sounding exasperated on the phone.

"I know," I grumbled. Newton had become an even bigger pain in the last couple months. He was pissed at me for not giving him any warning about the divorce and the fact that Edward refused to work with his son.

I knew Ashley had met with him and Cheney and requested me, but they told her I wasn't available. Again, trying to push Mike on her.

"If you're Cullen's publicist, you're obviously good. What's with them?"

"I'm pretty sure Newton hates me," I admitted. It had been obvious that I was a scapegoat for the Edward situation; an easy person to let go once his attempt to straighten up his reputation failed. Then, I actually accomplished something with him and he wanted Mike to take the credit. Edward didn't let him, and now it was my fault. So, along with the full time job of managing Edward's divorce, Newton was also throwing every menial task at me, too. And, apparently refusing people when they requested me.

"Well, I stand by my assessment that he's a dick," Ashley said as I pulled into Edward's driveway.

My stomach tightened, seeing the familiar house in front of me. I quickly shook my head of memories of pulling up to the house with an excited energy of the night to come and turned off the car and popped the trunk.

"I can recommend some good people at the firm, or other places if you want," I offered. I hadn't actually seen her since New York, but I liked her. She wasn't afraid to say what she felt and had gone through the trouble of actually contacting me after New York. But, I knew Newton wasn't going to change his mind any time soon.

"No, I'll wear him down eventually," she sighed.

I held my phone against my ear with my shoulder, pulling out the box of magazines from the trunk. After maneuvering the box to rest against my side while slamming the trunk closed, I was met with bright green eyes walking toward me.

"I, um, have to go," I mumbled into the phone. I heard Ashley's goodbye before I hung up and slipped the phone into the pocket of my jeans.

"Bella," Edward greeted with a soft smile, hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans.

He stood right in front of me now, the simple act of him standing a few feet away calming the nerves I had worked up. Even in the worst situation, I knew I could trust him. He would never purposefully hurt me and I was pretty sure he was one of maybe three people I could call in an emergency and trust to show up. Even now, when I hadn't seen him in so long, I knew that.

And I hated it.

"Hi," I sighed. "These are for you."

"Right," Edward said with a soft smile. I could have sworn he purposefully ran his thumb against the back of my hand when he grabbed the box.

"Um, they're good. The articles," I clarified, not sure what else to say but breaking every rule I had put in place for myself and not wanting to leave just yet.

"They were a good suggestion," he countered. His eyes were familiar and bright, staring over at me like I had all of the answers. "It's been a long time since I've seen you."

"I know," I sighed, pressing my lips together and nervously tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"You look good," he said softly.

"You too," I responded without thinking. I had yet to see the man not look good, though.

We stood there for a good three minutes, standing three feet from each other in his driveway, eyes locked and mouths silent. I had been… fine since things ended. Okay. I was never a stunning example of a well-adjusted adult in the first place, but it wasn't like our 'relationship' ending made me incapable of living my life.

I could admit that I missed him and still wanted him. But I was proud of myself for not completely crumbling right here in front of him. Granted, all I really wanted in the moment was a good hug, the kind where he pressed a kiss to the top of my head and didn't let go until he gave me one last good squeeze. I managed to keep myself in place, though.

"I should probably go," I sighed eventually.

"It's taco night," Edward blurted out, elaborating when I frowned at him. "I'm making tacos. And nachos. For dinner. If you wanted to stay."

The way he stuttered over his words made me want that hug even more. "I don't think that's a great idea," I admitted with a sad smile. "Your kids kind of hate me."

"They don't hate you."

I gave him an incredulous look. "Yes, they do. But, I get it."

I had kept my nose out of the details of Edward's divorce. I knew things were moving along, because he would send me little updates now and then when it was prevalent to my job, but I didn't know much. I had no idea what their prenup agreement was like or how hard Irina was fighting him on everything. I did know he and his lawyers were nearly certain on getting him at least an even split on custody. The sudden look of exhaustion when his kids were mentioned wasn't a good sign, though.

"Is everything going okay with them and the, uh, divorce?"

Edward shrugged. "Depends on the day."

"Do you regret doing it?" I asked softly, guilt quickly filling my gut.

"No," he responded quickly. "I should have done it sooner, I know that. I just…"

"You don't owe me an explanation. I was just making sure I didn't fuck things up more than I already had."

Edward quickly shook his head, frowning over at me. "You didn't fuck anything up. I owe you… more than I'll ever be able to repay you, Bella."

He didn't owe me anything, because his mother paid me for most of what I did for him. For getting him out of his marriage… making it possible for him to move on with someone else.

"I should go," I sighed.

Edward nodded, taking a few steps back so I could get to my car door. "It was good to see you, Bella."

I took a deep breath and nodded, dropping myself into the car. "You, too."

I replayed the entire conversation in my head as I drove through traffic, toward the office of my soon-to-be therapist. I was surprisingly good with therapists, even with my lacking conversational skills in general. Probably because they were legally prohibited from repeating anything I said to anybody.

Seeing Edward left me on edge and more confused than I had been in a while. I fiddled with my fingers in the waiting room, then all the way through Doctor Stanley's introduction.

"You've been to therapy before?" she asked me, voice as calm and soothing as could be.

"Yeah," I sighed. "I have a lot of issues. But, that's not really why I'm here," I said, my words coming out fast and a little jumbled. "I just have this one thing I need you to help me get over."

She looked at me, perfectly shaped brows raised. "And what is that?"

"There's this guy," I sighed. "And I want him. But I can't have him. So, I need you to make me okay with that."

-B-

Two weeks later things were simultaneously the same and completely different. I still wanted a man I couldn't have. Still worked myself to sleep most nights so I didn't think about it. Still avoided him, and my mountain of other issues, as much as possible.

I was also twenty-three now. Went to therapy twice a week and hated every second of it. And, now… now I was staring at a picture of myself with my arms around Edward Cullen's neck in his pool.

I had walked out of my bathroom, towel wrapped around me after my shower, and there it was. Flashing on my television that was supposed to be telling me scandalous stories about other people. Not myself.

My phone vibrated non-stop on my bedside table.

The newscaster made some bitchy remark about me sinking my claws into Edward.

All I could do was sit there, on my bed still wrapped in a towel, and watch it all happen.

I didn't care to think about who took the picture in the first place or how it got leaked without me knowing about it. I couldn't even be mad about it. From the very first night in New York I knew this could, would, happen eventually. My career path existed precisely because of this kind of thing.

I still felt this overwhelming sense of failure as I looked at the picture on the screen and it was all I could do not to crawl into bed and never leave because of it.

My day was suddenly going to be much different than I thought it would be, so I ditched the outfit I had planned to wear and threw on some jeans and a black t-shirt. Getting fired hardly called for business-casual dress.

I emptied every backup charger and notebook from my bag, only keeping my keys in their designated pocket. My phone was still a constant stream of emails and calls that cancelled each other out. I turned it off and tossed it in, too. My desk at work wasn't cluttered, but there were a few things I'd need to pack up.

As I drove down to the office, I realized a few unfortunate things. I had been angry a majority of my life. Angry at my parents, their new families, all of the people that constantly ignored me or looked past me when I asked for help. But, maybe they were all right. Maybe I was the problem.

I was awkward and unapproachable in most situations. Conversations with me were like pulling teeth. And I ruined everything I touched. It was a fucking miracle I had survived this long.

I was eternally grateful for the private parking garage under the office when I saw a crowd of men holding cameras near the front door. In the elevator the woman beside me stared at me for the eight-floor ride until she got off.

The office was full of quiet whispers and stares as I walked in. On cue, Newton's voice echoed through the room as he shouted for me in his office. I got two muttered slut's before I walked through the door to his office.

It was a packed room. Newton, Cheney, one man I recognized from the legal department and a woman from human resources. I only took a couple steps in, stopping in the middle of the open floor with four sets of eyes on me.

"How long have you been fucking him?" Newton spat out, frowning across the room at me. He and his son were look-a-likes. Both blond haired, blue eyed assholes.

"Does it matter?" I countered with a shrug.

Newton's nostrils flared and I could only imagine what he would say to me if he weren't surrounded by other people.

"Ms. Swan, if Mr. Cullen coerced you into – "

"He didn't coerce me into anything."

The man, the lawyer whose name escaped my mind, frowned over at me. "If you want to keep your job, you might what to change your story."

I shook my head, surprisingly unsurprised as the suggestion. "He didn't coerce me into anything," I repeated slowly.

"Well," Newton sighed, eying me up and down. "I guess we know why he was so willing and adamant about working with you."

For the first time in a long time, I let my anger snap.

"Oh, fuck you, Newton," I spat out. "I did the job every other fucking person here was too lazy to do and I did it well. And you have punished me for months because of it, you insufferable, misogynic prick!"

Newton balked at me, his own insult obviously bubbling up, but Cheney stood from his spot, a firm hand on Newton's shoulder to keep him calm.

"I'm sorry, Bella," he said calmly. "We're going to have to let you go."

"Right," I nodded, rolling my eyes as I turned around for the door.

"Holly from human resources can walk you out – "

"I don't need an escort," I snapped. "I just need to get a few things from my desk and I'm gone."

I let the door slam shut behind me, ignoring the jumps and new stares from everyone around me. Standing at my tiny desk, I dropped pens and notebooks and anything else my hands touched into my bag. After a couple minutes, a new round of hushed whispers started and I looked around to see what I had done to get everyone's attention now.

To make a shitty day even worse, I was met with the sight of Edward stepping into the office, Renata Serrano beside him. Maybe she finally agreed to take him on as a client.

I figured ignoring each other would be the best way to go about the whole thing, so I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. I made sure to keep my eyes down and away from him, though I wasn't sure why they had seemed to freeze in the entryway.

A warm hand gently grabbed my arm as I walked by.

"You know, I really hate this whole ignoring me thing you've got going on."

I looked up at him with a frown and a shake of my head. "You shouldn't be… here… with me. Newton is in his office – "

"Did they already fire you?" Renata interrupted.

"Yeah," I scoffed.

"I'm sorry," Edward groaned, thumb of the hand still around my arm rubbing circles into my skin. I quickly pulled my arm away when I realized it.

"I was fucking my only client, so it's not that surprising," I snapped.

"Do you want me to try and talk to him?" Edward offered.

I chuckled humorlessly at his offer. "I kind of… snapped in there. They're not changing their mind."

"You don't need them," Renata interrupted. "Edward will tell you the details. It's my turn to see that vein on Will's forehead explode. I'll see you soon, Bella," she said with a kind, almost devious smile before walking away.

I had no idea what anything she said meant. And I was tired and angry and had that stupid pit of despair in my stomach that came with being around Edward these days.

When I turned to leave, Edward's hand ended back up on my arm. "Bella – "

"Shouldn't you be meeting with Newton?" I asked, hoping to distract him.

Edward frowned at me. "I'm not here for him. I'm here for you."

I sighed, eyes falling to the ground. "I signed an NDA with the company before the first time I talked to you, Edward. I told them it was completely consensual. You're fine."

It was a valid worry, especially in today's climate. I would have hoped he knew me better than to think I'd run to a news station with anything about him, though.

"Christ, I don't care about that, Bella. You know I don't."

"Then I don't know what else you want from me, Edward!" I gasped, my voice coming out louder and higher than I wanted. I felt tears stinging my eyes and blinked them away as quickly as I could.

Without another word Edward's arm wrapped tight around my waist and he pulled me to the elevator. We had been off to the front of the office, out of earshot of most people, but still within eyesight.

Once the elevator doors closed I stepped out of his grasp and squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, stopping the imminent tears for the time being. When I opened them back up Edward's eyes were on me, soft and sympathetic.

"I know I don't deserve anything from you, but will you give me the chance to explain?"

"You don't have anything to explain," I told him, running my fingers through my hair. I hadn't done anything with it this morning, so it was full of messy, incomplete waves with a few scattered pin straight clumps because my hair was on the bipolar side.

"Please," he begged.

Because I was a sucker for soft green eyes, I had no choice in the matter.

"Okay."

A/N: We're finally to the good stuff! Maybe soon I'll actually be able to give you a happy, angst-free chapter. The next chapter is the last for this story, but the sequel will pick right up from there. The next chapter is also the EPOV you've all been asking about.

I hope you're all doing well and are as safe and healthy as you can be. I'll see you soon!