I do not own Twilight.
Betaed by the wonderful SunflowerFran. Remaining mistakes are mine.
oOo
Since Edward's broken ribs had to heal on their own, and the cut in his leg had been stitched, he was dismissed from the hospital after two days. He also had a smaller cut on his temple and two on his arm. He had bruises, too, which were large and blue.
The worst, though, wasn't the physical aftermath. The worst was his shame and guilt about what he'd put Bella and his family through.
He'd been referred to a therapist specialising in drug abuse and alcohol addiction. Their first meeting was scheduled the following week. There had been talk about him going to a rehab centre, but he had declined, certain it would do him no good. He wanted to be home, and with Bella.
He'd been given pills to prevent seizures, pills to minimize the urge to drink, vitamin pills, and dozens of pamphlets on the subject, as well as the contact addresses of various AA groups.
Because, at last it had been said: Edward Cullen was an alcoholic.
And that was the hardest part of all.
.
"You okay?"
They were in the waiting room of Dr. Alec Varner. Edward was terribly nervous, his hands clammy as he held onto Bella for dear life.
He nodded.
The fact that he needed to talk about his problem with a complete stranger terrified him. It had been dreadful enough at the hospital, and then again, with his GP.
His family had been wonderful throughout this last week, never being intrusive, staying on the sidelines, offering gentle support. And Bella? Bella had been – was – angelic. She'd been reading a lot on the subject, and told him again and again, that his disease was not his fault.
"You'll be okay, darling." She kissed his cheek. "You're so strong."
Edward huffed.
He'd never felt less strong than this past week. He felt like a weakling, a total loser, but not strong.
"You are, you know," she murmured. "And I love you."
Turning his head, he faced her.
"And I love you."
.
Dr. Varner – or Alec, as he asked Edward to call him – was a red-haired Irishman in his sixties, with a calm demeanour and friendly blue eyes. For some reason, Edward knew he could trust him, and their first session went well.
Edward told him about his relationship with Bella, about his profession, about his family. And then about Irina.
How they'd met, how her family had tried to interfere, how they'd both been part of a group of artists. How he'd started to drink when he was painting. And then, after Irina's death, how it had become his crutch, his excuse, his way of coping with his guilt and mourning.
Edward was exhausted when the hour was over, but somehow, he felt a bit lighter. He'd see Alec once a week from now on, and was hoping it would do him good.
He took Bella's hand when they stepped into the street, swinging their arms to and fro between them.
She smiled and kissed him. And then, she treated both of them to ice cream.
oOo
Okay, so that was Edward's rock bottom. He had it coming, don't you think?
The story will be winding down from now on. Nine more chapters left, and a small epilogue.
Love,
harperpitt