Day 12

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A line from her mother's favorite movie, My Fair Lady, was running through her head. 'I've grown accustomed to her face,' or in Bella's case, his face. He was skinny, just this side of gaunt, but that was no surprise. A few weeks in the heat and in the sweltering anti-contamination suits made everyone sweat buckets. Dehydration was always an issue and everyone came home pounds thinner. His self-inflicted haircut was awful, an inch of reddish brown hair in some spots, down to the skin in others. His eyebrows seemed to lead a life of their own, the perfect accent marks for his bright green eyes. But it was his smile and his habit of running his big hand up the back of his neck when he laughed that she missed the most. He was always ready with a joke or outrageous commentary on anything, their food, their bunks, his bawdy descriptions of what he thought Ben and Angela were doing while they waited outside their rooms for hours on end. When Edward said-

Why was she thinking about Edward? She hadn't been face to face with her boyfriend in over a month! Shouldn't she be longing for him? The last time they skyped he appeared a little too well fed. His hair was trimmed neatly every three weeks, a habit she'd admired in the past, but now she found it a touch…foppish? Was that a word? Somehow Emmett with his buffed nails and tailored suits seemed far less manly compared to—Ugh, did every thought of hers lead back to Edward? She barely knew him—was it really only a week? It seemed like years. She was so comfortable talking to him, since the first time they had lunch, and then dinner, together. She'd gone from not knowing he existed to spending ten or twelve hours with him each day. She didn't want to leave him yesterday, but she had to. What he'd said about Emmett was horrible. She couldn't stand for it, this was her boyfriend he was disrespecting. She left and almost immediately regretted it. She had such a strong reaction, she could now admit, because she believed he was absolutely right.

She needed to give Emmett a chance to explain. There had to be an explanation, right? She sent him an email at 5 a.m., telling him she urgently needed to skype with him today. At 7:32 a.m. he'd responded with, "OK, later."

That was it. Why didn't he drag out his laptop and connect with her right then? It was obvious that she was awake. And he was so vague, like he couldn't bother writing more than two words, like she was a pesky fly, not his girlfriend.

Girlfriend. It hurt to say the word. She was scarcely a girl anymore, and as Edward had pointed out, Emmett had not staked his claim for anything further. But as Emmett's girlfriend, shouldn't he have responded more quickly, or at least with a little more concern? She could probably count on one hand the number of times she'd used the word urgent in their relationship. She wasn't a silly girl that cried wolf over every little thing. So when someone who is as even keeled, as intelligent, as stable as she is uses the word "urgent", shouldn't that garner some action? Some explanation?

She wanted to simultaneously apologize and yell at Edward. And hug him. The hugging —she'd like to think it was because she hadn't hugged anyone like that in weeks, but the truth was she'd never had a hug like that. Like he was the missing puzzle piece, her phantom other half finally found. As if there was no reason for them to ever break apart since that's the way they were meant to be.

Logically, that's not how things went in life. You meet someone, you spend time learning about each other, you develop affection which, if you're lucky turns into more. But what if that more, the more you've been carefully cultivating for over three years, what if that more pales in comparison to the more that happened in a few days in a lousy government facility, without fancy dates, tropical vacations or expensive cars?

"ARRRGHH!" Bella pounded her fists against the table, prompting an immediate response.

"Dr. Swan?" Angela bolted in, followed by two medics. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry." Bella waved her hands in front of herself, indicating that she was fine. "I'm having some relationship issues. I'm frustrated."

The medics left the room, but Angela hung back. "What Edward do now?"

"Edward? No, I'm not in a relationship with Edward."

"Could've fooled me." Angela crossed her arms, but didn't say anything else.

"My boyfriend of three years…something's off. And he won't call me back to discuss it."

"Um hm."

"What does that mean? Um hm?"

Angela adjusted her hat. "When your man can't be reached, and don't have a good reason why he can't be reached…he ain't your man no more."

"But he said…"

"Dr. Swan, my gran used to say, don't mind what a man says, mind what they do."

"But I've been living with him for three years. Shouldn't I give him a chance to explain himself before I end it?"

At that moment Bella realized she was going to end it. She couldn't imagine what Emmett could possibly say at this point to change her mind. But wasn't it cold to break up over the phone? She should really wait until she could talk to him, face to face and look into his eyes. It was possible that she was jumping to the wrong conclusion based on the way he was behaving, but that was a sign in itself. Even if everything he said was true, that he'd spent the night at Mike's house and that he was super busy and couldn't contact her, would she want to continue seeing him? Living with him? She needed to be completely honest with herself, completely sure that she was ending things because their relationship wasn't right, not because she was anxious to explore something with Edward. That wasn't the way she was raised, which brought up another issue. Her parents loved Emmett. If she was going to end things, she had to do it right, so she could truthfully tell her parents she gave him every chance to redeem himself, and that she wasn't making a rash decision.

Angela turned to go back out to the hall, but looked over her shoulder before she shut the door. "I don't know what kind of man you got, out-shines that Edward."

There was no comparison. If Emmett was a birthday candle, Edward was a lighthouse beacon.

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-21days-Day12-

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"Do you want to go outside?"

Edward whipped his head towards Ben as he paced. "No."

"You didn't eat your lunch."

The white Styrofoam wings of the container from Buena Sera, one of his new favorite restaurants, and the chicken marsala within, now cold and congealed, mocked him. He'd ordered it for Bella to try, but she refused to see him today. Refused. When she didn't show up, at first he was frightened that her temperature had gone up. Ben had checked, unofficially,with Angela, who'd informed him that Dr. Swan had not requested visitation that day. Then he was angry. Angry with himself. He'd been an ass. Everything he'd said was true, he had no doubt, but who wants it rubbed in their face? What he'd been feeling for Bella—had it been artificially heightened by their exceptional circumstances? Yes, he could admit, there was that extra element of comradery, of a deeper understanding than two random people off the streets could ever have. But there was more, and he felt like she could feel it too. But he'd stomped all over a guy he'd never met, a guy that she had to have some feelings for, or else she wouldn't be living with him. He killed whatever was starting between them. He was just going to stay in this room until it was time for him to go, and then, well, he'd never—

"Hey Ed, you know anyone in the facility can look up the email of anyone else in the facility. There's a directory."

"Ben, I think I love you."

With renewed purpose, he sat at his laptop and found patient listings. Since his Government Issue email had his initials and date of admittance, he assumed Bella's would be similar. Sure enough, there was only one other address using that date. The problem: what to write. He was so much better in person. What would Alice say? She'd probably suggest groveling followed by jewelry- at least that seemed to be how Jasper kept himself out of the dog house. Speak of the devil, his laptop pinged, Alice sent him an email.

His little sister had spent a number of years working as a social media expert for a private investigator. It amazed him when Alice told him stories, the names changed to protect the usually not innocent people she investigated. How easily strangers would accept her friend requests, leave public incriminating evidence and otherwise make her job much easier than it should have been. When he asked her to look into Emmett McCarthy, he suspected she'd turn up something, but this was awful.

Picture after picture of Emmett with pretty young women, lots of different women, at business events, at bars, at casinos, in bathing suits. With Miss Reno 2014, her in a tiny bikini and sash, him with his tongue down her throat. He didn't seem to discriminate, many sizes, races and ages of women were represented. He altered the spelling of his name, but Alice still had the facial recognition software she'd used professionally, and that could see beyond his creative spelling, and found him where pictures were posted by other people. If there was any doubt that this was the same man, there were several pictures of Bella with his arm around her, credited to his properly spelled name, all at professional functions.

So that's his act, Edward thought, when he needs to look professional he appears with the unimpeachable girlfriend, a respected pediatrician and humanitarian. Now that he had the evidence, he could easily forward it to Bella but…he couldn't. He didn't want to embarrass her, make her feel like she'd been taken. He needed to be a little more subtle. Of course, there'd be no point to it at all if she wasn't talking to him. So first, the kiss up email to get himself back in her good graces. Which he planned to send to his sister first, to make sure he wasn't making things worse. She'd schooled him on the phone.

"Edward, don't you know that I can trash Jasper all day long, but if anyone else trashes Jasper, I'll knock'em out. Bella's a big girl. She needs to come to her own conclusions. You can't force her."

He began to write.

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AN: Progress, right? So in this electronic age, is breaking up with someone by text, email or Instagram okay, or does it have to be face to face? I'm old school.

A guest reviewer pointed out, correctly, that in the story Bella never gives Edward Emmett's last name. What I am giving you here are the highlights of their day. If this was all they talked about in the ten or twelve hours they were together, that would be very sad. So for eagle eyed readers, 'off camera' Bella and Edward exchanged the usual questions and answers, Where do you work, go to school, live, vacation, hobbies, anyone special in your life, where do they work etc.