A/N: I was THRILLED by the responses on the previous chapter. Reviews are energizers, and manna, and dark chocolates, and… yeah, fanfiction writers love reviews, so THANK YOU. And please, please, please don't miss telling me your thoughts on this one. Thank you and ENJOY. I love you all.

~WHAT IT TAKES TO STAND~

Chapter 4: Enigmatic Man

"She can't walk," Angela innocently stated. I saw Jessica got surprised and alerted Angela on her slip. Reading Jessica's signals, Angela's eyes grew at the realization of what she had just revealed.

But the reaction that registered most to me was Edward's. Wide-eyed from shock, Edward turned rigid. His mouth even hanged a bit open.

Shit. I winced. I casted my eyes down again.

"I'll just – I'll just finish my lunch then. Have a great lunch," I mumbled as I pretended to be busy with getting my sandwich from my brown bag and didn't even look up to them as they all left me.

My eyes stung from the tears that I was trying to keep at bay. Mechanically taking bites of my lunch, I nursed my wounded self by working even during my lunch break.

For the remainder of the day, I busied myself with my work. I read and re-read articles that I have written regarding the company; checked and re-checked reports on all Cullen Enterprises. I wouldn't be surprised if Mike suddenly appears in my cubicle, announcing that I was becoming a model employee by the hour. And through all this, Edward has not even once approached me. I expected it, but still, it hurts. A lot.

As the day ends, I was the first person to get out of the place, taking the opportunity that Edward was at that moment not in his designated cubicle a few feet from mine. It was like I was in a marathon – wheeled marathon at that. When I reached my parking space, I immediately strapped myself inside my adjusted van which was remodelled to suit my needs, and raced to reach home. There, I was finally able to release my feelings, crying myself to sleep, and cursing my two feet, and whatever responsible for it, that refused to walk.

The next day was frustrating. Our CEO Carlisle Cullen was to hold a press-conference regarding the latest investment of our company. Jessica, Angela and Eric were sent for field, and Garrett, Tyler, and Ben for taking photos and videos. Mike was also coming since he is the Division Head. And of course, it was Edward's opportunity to observe what the ISD does for the company. Even two of our OJTs will come.

I settled on busying myself with spreadsheets and e-news, but who was I kidding? I knew that I will just spend the whole time yet again watching people as they buzzle the busy street of Seattle.

By eight, everyone was becoming frantic on preparing the venue of the press-con located at the eighth floor. As soon as Edward came, he was ushered by Jessica to join them. I saw him cast a glance in my direction before following but I was fast to look away.

The minutes felt like hours as I waited for something to catch my interest again, but the streets held no fascination for me that moment. The realization that my boring life has suddenly been infiltrated by a handsome man, though he hadn't uttered a word to me past a friendly greeting, and I'm sure is by now repulsed at my abnormality, was making me hope for things that I'm aware were out of my reach. It was a sad realization.

But what to do now? I thought, bored. It's not like I could learn anything about him without talking to him…

And then, like a light bulb flicking in my head, an idea popped in my mind. I did the thing that any curious and interested person would do if they wanted to know Edward Cullen without approaching him. I googled him.

One hour after browsing through articles and images on google, I slumped in my chair, giving up. There were a lot of articles about the Cullen family, and pictures upon formal pictures of him with Mr. and Mrs. Carlise and Esme Cullen, as well as his elder brother James and younger sister Rosalie, but none detailed personal information about him, other than the basic full name, age and academe.

As I was closing all the tabs, one picture on the 'image results' drew my attention. It was a closer picture of him and his family. This picture was very clear that I could see even the color of his eyes. But what drew my attention was the expression he was wearing: sadness, and contempt. It brought me to carefully observe all the other pictures of him.

After scrutinizing all fourteen pages of him with his family, I resolved on one thing. Edward looked like he doesn't belong there. He was like a lost soul: a lost boy amidst fake faces. It was obvious that their family was the strict, formal one. I noticed his brother James as the rebellious looking, and Rosalie as the Queenly type, but Edward looked like he doesn't feel comfortable around them.

"Hey there."

I gasped at the person on my right.

Fuck. Why is he here already? Then I remembered my search engine. I hurriedly closed them before he sees anything.

"Why are you already here?" Flustered, I struggled to keep my voice from sounding panicky as I worked to remove all traces of my obsession of him.

"It's lunch time. They were all going to eat at the venue. I'm tired of all the catered food."

I looked at him to see him holding a plate of food.

"If that's the case then why did you bring the food from there?"

He smiled crookedly. Fuck that smile. "A trade?"

"With what?" I asked, not understanding him.

"With your lunch." He offered his plate of food.

I skimmed my brown bag placed near my desktop.

"It's just sandwich."

"I hadn't had homemade sandwich in a while now." I looked questioningly at him, hesitating. "Please?" He pleaded, beseeching me with his eyes.

Fuck it. I thought. I hadn't had a proper meal ever since I was forced into a wheelchair.

I surveyed the office to see that it was only the two of us left, before I gave him my brown bag, exchanging it with his plate of food. He seemed pleased enough.

Growing self-conscious when he pulled a chair from the nearest cubicle to sit next to me, I couldn't erase my apprehension over the thought that this handsome man and I will share a lunch together.

Silence filled us. I watched him take out my peanut butter sandwich and contemplated whether I be the one to break the silence. He beat me by exulting delightedly over the food in his hand.

"This is amazing! I hadn't had peanut butter sandwich since I was in grade school." He excitedly took a bite and produced a contented sigh at the taste. It made me smile.

"You even put something else in here. It tastes better."

"Kitkat." I said. His brows furrowed. "I put bars of kitkat in there. It tastes better that way."

He looked at his food as if he couldn't believe the idea of putting chocolate bars into peanut butter. That made me giggle.

"That was a pretty sound. You should laugh more often."

I took a bite of the traded food to hide my embarrassment.

"So, why are you here?" I asked after swallowing my first bite. Damn. Was that shrimp in cream sauce?

"I knew you would be alone in here, and I wanted to talk," he said, cutting through all the small talk. "And I told you, I wanted trade in food," he added.

"If you're talking to me out of pity then I would suggest you find someone else. I'm sure there are numerous girls lining just for you."

"Woah. Easy there. Not too scary."

I looked at him as he chuckled at me.

"What do you want?"

"Can't I just talk to you because I find you interesting?"

I shifted my eyes to the food in my lap, eyeing it as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world, while I refuse to acknowledge that I was in any way interesting him.

"Look at me," he said in a quiet voice. When I didn't do as he bid, he clutched my chin to turn my face towards him. "I think you're pretty, and I'm attracted to you. I want to ask you out. Do you think there would be any space in those emotions where I could pity you?" His eyes were serious. Honest.

"You're good with girls," was my stupid answer. He laughed as he sat better in his seat, dropping his hold of me.

"Yes. I've had my few histories with dating willing girls. But that was a long time ago. Ever since I graduated college, my focus was on Mr. Cullen's company."

"I bet," I mumbled, not getting passed the fact that he just called his dad Mr. Cullen.

"But that doesn't mean I cannot be serious around women. I've never had a girlfriend in a long time now because I don't want fucked-up relationships anymore. You can imagine how tiring it could get to just have… physical relationships. All the women in my life were more interested in my looks, and credit card. If I dropped the surname Cullen and lived a normal life, I'm sure they wouldn't be that much enthusiastic at the prospect of dating me."

"I seriously doubt that." He is such a pretty face girls would still be all over him even if he becomes as poor as a rat.

"Well, probably. But it gets pretty tiring pretty easily to date high maintenance girls. You know how much it sucks if your date is more interested in her nails than what you're saying? Or if you bring her to a restaurant and she couldn't eat all that was in the menu because she's on a diet? Or if you wanted to kiss her, but she wouldn't let you touch her hair because she just spent three hours straightening it? I wanted a real relationship, Isabella. No more of the stupid ones."

"And I'm that girl – easy, low-maintenance."

He sighed in frustration. "I didn't mean it that way. I told you, I find you very attractive, and I wanted to ask you out. I wanted to get to know you better. See if we could work out."

I looked at my plate of food again, contemplating. Am I ready to open myself up to another person? I can hardly look at myself in the mirror. It's harder to imagine myself with this good-looking guy.

"It's not like I'm forcing you right away to answer, but I'm begging you to consider my offer."

"Why me?" I faced him, gauging every inch of his reactions. "You hardly know me passed few pleasantries. And I'm just a girl in the wheels."

Something about what I said angered him. He scowled at me. "Don't ever doubt yourself just because you function slightly different than most people."

"But why? What do you see in me? And yesterday, you hadn't approached me after you learned my condition. I don't understand…"

Just then, our co-workers entered our floor, just finished with their lunch.

"I'll tell you later," Edward muttered as he stood to go to his cubicle again.

But his 'later' didn't come for the rest of that day.