No copyright infringement is intended. All copyrights belonging to Stephenie Meyer are hers, and the remaining original ideas/content are mine. Thank you.


Renesmee continued to grow, and life went on around them. Even Bella's peach fuzz was growing out, as they discussed and weighed the options ahead of them for her remaining treatment. She wore elaborate, beautiful scarves over her head, and felt utterly self-conscious. When she grocery shopped with Esme, she usually spent her shower time that night crying, allowing herself these brief moments of self-pity.

The time from the end of her treatment to the hopeful "all clear" appointment with the oncologist was fraught with arguing, stress, and tension. They each worried, together and alone, that her cancer wouldn't be gone. What would they do?

Carlisle had gone back home weeks ago, Esme staying longer since she was retired and able. Bella found her presence comforting, her own mother long gone. She loved Esme and looked up to her as a second mother, and perhaps in some ways, was even closer to Esme than she had been with her mom. There were things you never wanted your mom to know, but Bella felt comfortable discussing every topic with Esme.

Medical bills needed to be dealt with, and even with Edward's knowledge and familiarity of the medical system, Esme still struggled to help them. It wasn't a matter of funds, it was figuring out what needed to be paid, and when insurance would cover it, or how much. The process often left Bella in tears. Many things left Bella in tears, though, these days.

Esme left before the follow-up visit, and Edward wondered if it had been the wrong choice. They were each getting used to being back in the swing of things alone and now they had this cloud lingering over them. Ren was beginning to crawl and her mobility thrilled and frightened Bella. There was just so much more to do these days, for her.

Edward hadn't gone back to work, but felt the pressure looming. He'd never go back, if Bella's cancer wasn't gone, but that diagnosis would destroy everything. Not sure what he'd do, he knew if he lost Bella, he could never live in their house, not even their city. In his head, he formed a plan to move back in with his parents, even though he knew this was a total pussy move. Uncertain he could mentally handle it, losing her, he knew he had to plan for the worst.

Late night calls to Carlisle left him a sleep-deprived insomniac. He was grateful that he had a father available to listen, but hoped he'd never have to take him up on his offer to move in and get help. More than once, he sat at his desk and cried. He cried for her, and he cried for himself. For their lost time, for their lost perfect lives.

Deciding to keep a positive attitude, Bella began to look into reconstruction options, for once her treatment was over and she was in the clear. Unknown to Edward, she made an appointment with a plastic surgeon. She came home with a silicon and a saline bag. She played with them, touched them, put them in her bra, tried to imagine them as hers.

Could she do it? she wondered. Could she insert something foreign into her body to recreate what disease had destroyed and taken?

She wasn't sure. So many of her feelings surrounding the surgery were a muddled mess in her own head. Could she be okay not having the surgery? Would she still be a woman without one of her breasts? She knew there were bras and other devices to "fake it", but would that be enough for her? Was she overly vain if she got the implant? Would he still love her and find her attractive without it? She thought back to how much he'd loved her breasts, how the discovery of the lump had even come while they were being intimate.

Making the right decision seemed so taxing, so exhausting.

She hadn't exactly snuck the appointment with the plastic surgeon, but she knew he'd be upset she hadn't asked him to go with her. As delicately as she could, once Renesmee was in bed for the night, she brought the topic up.

"So," she started. "I've been thinking about the next surgery."

Edward turned on the couch and looked at her, confused.

"Plastic surgery, Edward. Breasts."

This story has been such a pleasure to write, I hope you're enjoying their journey together, too. There are going to be 7 chapters total, I believe.