A/N: I wanted to get 3 chaps up this week, and just managed to sneak this one in under the wire. With chapter ten we'll get a few more answers! Thanks again to everyone reading along xo

Instead of chocolate, I'll rec a fic that always leave me with a smile - I think it will cheer you up after this hot mess...if you haven't already, check out The Plan by QuantumFizzx. Fic link can be found in my favorites.

Big thanks & love to my own personal dream team: Char, Gin, Caren & Ash - they help make my words purdy and my ideas not suck so bad.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just come up with random things for them to do.

Bella

Even though she hesitates, Alice leaves, knowing I need some alone time before I have to head to my appointment. I sigh, knowing I need to steel myself for the conversation I'm about to have.

I go through this once a week.

Every week, I psych myself up that today is going to be the day. Today will be the day that I get the news I want to hear...that something is changing. That he is changing. It doesn't help that I sometimes convince myself that I noticed something different in his demeanor, or the way he spoke with me. They're all phantom promises, however. Any hope or dream for change is squashed during each weekly appointment...

Nothing new this week Bella. It's still status quo. Perhaps if we keep up with this or that, in time...

Time.

I snort, thinking about how much time we've already spent dealing with this. How much more time am I willing to give?

If I'm honest with myself, I'm willing to give an eternity. I know Alice thinks I'm being a martyr, giving up my life with no hope of getting anything in return. My eyes burn as tears start spilling down my face at the thought.

I'm just not willing to give up just yet.

Not yet.

I allow myself a quick cry and then use the sink in the employee bathroom to freshen up. I notice the time, and am glad that I have another twenty minutes until I need to be there. I check my email, force myself to eat something and then wrap up a leftover scone to take with me. By the time I lock up the cafe and start walking over, I realize I now need to hustle in order to make it on time.

As I reach the facility, I'm struck with how barren it looks and the same fears and questions hit me, twisting my stomach until it hurts.

Can he actually be happy here?

Did we choose the right place?

Does it even matter?

These moments of self doubt come and go, but these always leave lingering holes in my heart. I walk through the front door and nod a hello to the nurse at the front desk. Almost mechanically, I make my way down a drab, yet pristine hallway, until I reach a large set of double oak doors. There's a deceiving warmth that hits me as I enter. Vibrant, lush plants adorn the corners and expensive looking, perfectly arranged furniture is strangely inviting. I walk up to the perfectly coiffed woman sitting behind a desk.

"Hi Gianna. I'm here for my five o'clock..."

Before I'm able to finish, the ever efficient Gianna stands up and beckons me to follow her into the adjoining office. I follow, my body buzzing, wondering if today is the day that I get a positive report. Maybe? Just maybe...

"Ah, Bella. Please, come in. Take a seat."

Dr. Volturi gestures to the smooth leather couch in front of him, and I sit, eager eyes turned towards him.

I don't get any information right away. In fact, it seems like he takes his time hemming and hawing as he reviews some papers on his ever present clipboard. As the minutes tick away, I start to get more and more annoyed.

"Has there been any change?" I finally blurt out, unable to contain myself. If it's just been status quo, he wouldn't be so slow on sharing with me ...right?

"Well...I'm not sure what to say," he starts, and even this little bit fills me with such hope that I find myself sitting on the edge of the couch, eagerly anticipating his next words. "But, no...not really. There are a few things that seem to be strengthening here and there, but again, they are more muscle memory than anything else. Unfortunately, I just do not see his condition ever changing. In my professional opinion I would say that any chance of one hundred percent recovery is absolutely nil. And even hopes of fifty percent recovery is slim to none. Otherwise he is in perfect health and..."

He continues on, telling me about stuff that I've heard hundreds of times over, and frankly, don't really care about. I stand up, and gather my belongings, mumbling an apology to Dr. Volturi, but needing to get out of there.

Hadn't I seen a spark of recognition in his eyes today? I swear I noticed some sort of difference in his demeanor.

I want to cry, but my body is just too spent. I don't even have enough energy to make any damn tears. I find an empty room and hide out in it for a few minutes, trying to collect myself. For the hundredth time, I wonder again whether or not I have the energy to continue with this. My head is pounding, so I dig through my purse for some Tylenol, sighing in relief when I spot some down at the bottom.

Not wanting to swallow them dry, I make my way to the cafeteria so I can grab a glass of water. I can see through the slightly tinted glass at all the people eating dinner. Most have visitors and seem to actually be enjoying themselves. I step closer and see him, sitting there all alone. My heart aches, as I watch him glance around at everyone else and I can tell his mind is whirring, trying to figure it out. Trying so damn hard.

I want to run over there, doctors cautioning be damned, and tell him everything all at once. Explain to him what's going on, and give him the answers he so desperately seeks.

But, I won't.

I've done that before and know what the result is. It isn't pretty at all, and one of the few times I've seen him lash out at me. I didn't visit him for a little bit after that. That week alone was way harder then standing here silent could ever be. So, we go at his pace, every day dancing this dance I've come to learn over the past year or so.

Finally, his eyes make their way to where I'm standing, and he looks at me, a brief flash of recognition flits across his face. I raise my hand slowly and wave, but want nothing more then to rush in and feel his body crushed up against mine.

I hold my breath, only letting it out when Edward finally waves back.