Thank you Angelnlove52 for all your hard work, and to my readers, thanks for all the reviews. I'm so glad you like the newer version of the story. Please, keep reading and reviewing :)

No copyright infringement intended.

CHAPTER 7

BPOV ~

Saturday, November 25th, 2006…

A faint beeping somewhere in the distance woke me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I briefly pondered what could be making such a noise. I'd never heard anything as faint and steady. An alarm clock or cell phone were my first options, but it didn't sound like either. I could see the red haze drifting through my closed eye lids, making it appear as if it were the middle of the afternoon—I couldn't feel the warmth of the warming sun …. I never sleep this late, how is it the middle of the afternoon? As I slowly came to, I felt a warm, strong hand clasped in mine. My eyes fluttered open and found a sleeping Edward next to me on the hard plastic recliner, his head rested on the bed next to our hands.

I glanced around, quickly realizing from all of the monitors and medical equipment around me, I was in a hospital room, and then it all came flooding back to me. The pain ... the black spots clouding my vision … the blood … there was so much blood, so much darkness that surrounded me.

When I closed my eyes again, I could see the blood streaming down my leg once I pulled my pants down. It was like twin rivers flowing from the apex of my thigh down toward my ankle. The smell of rust and iron hit my senses and caused me to gag and feel woozy. When I looked up, my vision turned black as night and my head started to twirl on axis. I tried to grab onto the counter next to me, but missed as my body violently started to shake before heat over took my body and everything stopped.

Edward started to stir in the chair next to me, pulling me from my memories. It was only a matter of seconds before his wide, alarmed eyes locked with mine.

"Hey …" he whispered, squeezing my hand as he sat forward in his chair. I studied him carefully, occasionally glancing around the tiny hospital room.

"What ... what happened?" I finally asked, my voice coming out rough—like I'd just finished off a whole carton of cigarettes. Even I didn't recognize it.

Edward just looked at me, his expression blank—a look I'd never seen before. I could see a wall constructing behind his eyes, keeping me from whatever he was thinking. "You … you passed out," he whispered. "I found you lying on the floor in the bathroom …. You … you had a miscarriage, Bella …."

I think he was waiting for me to say something, but I couldn't really formulate any words at the moment. Did he really just say I had a miscarriage? How was that even possible? I couldn't be pregnant … there was no way. I would have shown symptoms. I would have known if I were pregnant.

"Wha …what do you mean …. How could I … when did I …. What?" I muttered, trying to compute everything he was telling me. Pregnant, what?

"The doctor said you were about ten weeks along." He held no emotion—on his face, or in his voice. It was like nothing I'd ever witnessed before. The man before me was not my Edward. "Did … did you know you were pregnant?" he finally asked, his eyes boring deep into mine.

I shook my head vigorously as the tears fell freely down my cheeks. "No," I whispered, still shaking my head. "I-I didn't know …. I thought we've … we've always used condoms—"

"Not always," he interrupted solemnly.

I blinked back my tears, whispering, "I didn't … know …. I'm so sorry, Edward—"

"Hey," he soothed, crawling in beside me on the bed. "This isn't your fault, baby …."

I looked to him with big eyes—it was the first emotion he'd shown since he woke up. "If I would have been on birth—"

"No," he interrupted sternly. "If we're going to place blame, I should have remembered to put a condom on …. It happened, and at this moment, that's the least of my worries. Right now I'm more concerned with how you are …."

"I'm … I don't know," I cried, snuggling closer. "I mean, I didn't even know, but—"

A light rap on the door interrupted me before it quickly opened and a tall, redheaded female walked in wearing a white coat.

"Good morning, Isabella," she greeted politely. "I'm Dr. Soto, the physician who treated you when you were brought in last night …."

"Good morning," I replied, moving to sit up a bit while Edward moved back to the chair next to the bed. My heart dropped a bit, and I instantly felt the loss; I wanted him next to me, holding me, comforting me with his touch alone.

"What exactly do you remember from yesterday, Isabella?" the doctor asked, bring my attention to her.

"I, um … I remember having some mild cramping throughout the day, some spotting … the uh, cramps gradually got worse, as did the, um, bleeding …. I just thought I was starting my period."

"Okay, and how about last night in the bathroom?"

I looked to Edward, talking about this in front of him was a bit embarrassing—I mean, we barely knew each other. He just smiled in response, nodding his head encouragingly.

"When I used the bathroom before leaving for the carriage ride, I noticed the bleeding was much heavier, as were the cramps … so I, um, used a super-plus tampon and took some Motrin …. When we got back to the room I went into the bathroom …." I looked to Edward again and then back to the doctor.

"I'd already filled the tampon and my underwear …. I got really dizzy and warm, it was like I was getting tunnel vision and sweating all at the same time … that's the last thing I remember."

"You passed out from the loss of blood," she replied sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Isabella, but you had a miscarriage last night …." I nodded, the tears falling freely again.

"Did you know that you were pregnant?" she went on to ask.

"No."

Dr. Soto nodded with a small, sympathetic smile on her face. "Do you know when your last menstrual cycle was?"

I shook my head. "Um, my cycles haven't ever been normal, but I do remember having one the beginning of September … and some spotting the beginning of October."

"Well, based on your blood work, I'd say you were about ten weeks along, so the spotting in October was probably implantation bleeding …. We did a D&C last night, so you may have some mild cramping and continued bleeding …. I would suggest you follow up with your own OB-GYN when you get back home …."

"I actually have an appointment next week. I was going to talk to her about birth control."

"Good, keep the appointment. I'll have the girls get a copy of your records, so you can take them with you …." I nodded, again, but didn't say anything, so she went on. "Alright, now I'd also suggest talking to your physician about possible support groups in your area …. They can help you deal with this sort of loss …."

"I will," I whispered, glancing toward Edward. "Thank you."

"Alright, so just take it easy for a few days …. I've written you a script for some 800mg Motrin, it should help with the cramps …. Are there any other questions for me?"

I shook my head. "No."

Sunday, November 26th, 2006 ~

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Edward asked, as we lay wrapped around each other on my bed. I sighed. He'd been asking me that same question for the past hour, and while my answer was always the same, it was one giant lie. "I can stay. I don't have to leave tonight."

I shook my head. "I'll be fine, Edward," I finally said, but this time I quickly added. "There's no reason for you to miss work—"

"I don't care about work," he interrupted, shifting me so he could see my face better. I'd finally said something other than, "I'll be fine" and he was going to grab a hold of that. "It's not like they can fire me."

"I'll be fine," I repeated.

He sighed, studying my face for a moment, before placing a kiss on my lips. "You'll call me if you need me?" he asked hesitantly. "The second you call, I'll be back on a plane to you. You're more important than anything in Boston …. I'm serious; call me if you need me … if you need anything."

I nodded, desperately trying to hold my tears at bay. I really didn't want him to leave, but there was no way I was telling him that. I couldn't hold him there when he had bigger and better things to worry about, and besides, I wanted him to stay because he wanted to stay, not because he felt obligated to. I wanted him to make that decision from his own want, not because of my selfish request.

"Okay," he finally murmured, sliding out of my tight embrace. "Walk me out?"

I nodded, slowly pushing myself off the bed. I held his hand tight in mine, walking slowly down the stairs, neither of us saying anything as we made our way to the door. I tried to think of something to say to him, something I could say that would make him stay without actually asking—begging—him not to leave me, but I couldn't find anything that would even begin to express what I was needing, while still wanting nothing more than for the final decision to be by his own merit.

Him not wanting to leave me.

I lay in bed, bawling my eyes out after he pressed his lips against mine for the last time and left. I told him I was okay, but I was anything but. I needed him with me, to hold me, comfort me when I woke from the recurring dream I'd been having since the dreaded night.

If it weren't for Angela and Vic, I don't know how I would have made it through. Every night when I woke screaming, they were always there to hold me, stroke my hair, and try to reassure me I would be okay. Though their words were comforting, they weren't from the person I needed them from the most.

I thought about calling him multiple times that first week, especially after my dreams woke me. I just needed to hear his voice, to tell him how much I was missing him … how much I needed him, and know if he felt the same. I needed to know if he was missing me, if he were dreaming of me the way I dreamt of him, did he wish he was there with me when I woke up in a cold sweat because the life I didn't know I wanted was so suddenly ripped out of my reach.

Friday, December 8th, 2006 ~

It was shortly after two in the afternoon when my cell phone rang from its place on the kitchen counter. I put down the dish I was washing and walked over to where my phone laid. Picking it up, I glanced at the screen – Edward.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Hey, baby," he sighed on the other end. "How ya feeling?"

"I'll be better when you get here …," I whimpered. I was doing fine for the most part, though I did have my moments, but mostly I just missed him terribly. It wasn't so much that I missed him—it felt as if he made things better. When I was talking to him, I could forget the possibilities of what could have been. Not that I was ready to be a mother … nothing could be farther from the truth, but just the idea that there was yet another death in my life tore my heart to pieces.

At night, I dreamt of a little girl with Edward's eyes and hair and my facial features, a little boy with my eyes and Edward's looks. I pictured us raising him or her together, owning a house together, possibly getting married. Then again, were they just delusions of grandeur? Does the stripper really get the man at the end of the day? Does a whore ever really get her prince after the deed is done?

"Yeah, um, about that …." My heart stopped, and I felt the tears already welling up in my eyes.

Okay, maybe I'm not doing as well as I let off.

"You're … you're not coming." It wasn't a question.

"I'm sorry, baby," he supplied solemnly. "I'm gonna have to work all weekend—"

"That's what you said last weekend," I interrupted.

Edward sighed loudly through the phone. I could imagine him pulling his hand through his hair as he spoke, "I know, Bella, and I'm sorry …. I wanna come, I just … can't. We have some important acquisitions we're trying to close on before the first of the year …. I'll try to make it out next weekend."

I sighed in defeat, sitting on the barstool as I wiped away the tears. "Okay." Half of me wanted to throw a fit and just tell him not to bother, while the other half wanted to beg him to come. I needed him. He promised me he would be here if I needed him, but now it seemed as though he was avoiding me. Maybe he really did blame me for losing our baby. Maybe he thought it was my fault I got pregnant in the first place. I just couldn't understand why he wasn't there, why he didn't want to be with me. Was it his way of letting me go without ever really saying the words? Was he really taking the coward's way out? Did he honestly think I'd just grow to forget him one day?

"Baby, you know I'd come if I could," he pleaded. "I just have a shit load of work to catch up on."

I nodded, though I didn't know if what he was saying was true or not. I thought knew Edward, but in truth, I didn't know him at all. He was still virtually a stranger to me, and that fact saddened me.

"It's fine," I finally whispered after a long extended period of silence. "Call me later?"

"Of course," he sighed.

Thursday, December 14th, 2006 ~

I'd just finished changing out of my work out clothes, following my yoga class at the local Bally's Fitness Center when my phone rang inside my bag.

I quickly pulled it out, glancing at the screen – Edward. I debated briefly on whether or not to answer it. I couldn't handle another heartbreak, but I desperately needed to hear his voice. I needed him to comfort me—to make all the pain go away. I wasn't; however, ready to hear him tell me he wasn't coming yet again. I wanted to silence the call, give him a taste of his own medicine, but there was something about his smooth, velvety voice—it had this instant calming reaction for my heart.

But was being heartbroken worth the few minutes of reprieve I received from talking to him? Was answering the phone worth getting upset all over again? The internal war continued to battle on, and before I knew what I was doing my finger quickly hit the green answer button, and my heart won out once again.

"Hello?" I answered, praying he wasn't calling to tell me he couldn't make it again.

I hadn't seen him since he left following our Thanksgiving tragedy, and it was becoming harder and harder every day. The absence he left within me mixed with the loss I'd endured was proving to be too much for me, and I needed him beside me to feel whole again.

"Hey, baby girl," he cooed on the other end. "Whatcha doin'?"

My heart jumped at the sound of his voice—it felt like a lifetime since I'd heard it. "Just getting ready to leave the gym. What are you doing?"

"Running out for a pizza."

I frowned. I knew it was only pizza, but I wished he were running out for pizza with me. "Sounds fun …. So you're still coming tomorrow, right?"

He hesitated, and my heart sank.

If I truly wanted to be honest with myself—which I tried not to do—it wasn't his absence or the loss of the baby that hurt the most. What absolutely killed me inside was the distance he was forcing between us. With every passing day, I felt him draw farther and farther from me. I felt the imposed silences and long pauses growing more pronounced with each conversation we held. I found myself wondering if that dreadful Sunday would be the last time I ever laid eyes on the man I was falling in love with. Was this how my first real experience with love was going to end?

The tears I started crying at night weren't for the loss of our baby, but for the loss of him and our relationship—the one we'd barely even begun. If only I were able to bring myself to fly to Boston, to force him to see me, to want me—but I didn't want to be anyone's pity or obligation. I wanted a man who wanted me for me … who loved me for who I was …. Could Edward be that man, or was I losing all hope in us ever having a future. Would I ever become a priority, or would he continue pushing me away until there was nothing left but stilted silence over a broken line?

"Edward …" I groaned, feeling rejected and unwanted.

"Next weekend," he assured. "I promise."

I didn't respond; it was always next weekend, and besides, my eyes were quickly filling with tears, and I didn't want him to hear me crying.

"Bella?" he asked.

"O-okay …" I whimpered, quickly wiping away the tears that began falling.

"Aw, baby, please don't cry," he begged. "I promise, next weekend."

"I'm fine." I sniffled. "Next weekend …." I wanted to beg him, plead with him to come, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I needed him to make me a priority, not force myself to become one.

Edward sighed, and I could imagine him tugging at his hair in obvious frustration. "I'm at the pizza place, baby …. You're sure you're okay?"

I nodded, knowing he couldn't see me—but wishing he could, so he wasn't only hearing the anguish in my voice, but seeing it on my face as well. "Mmhmm. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"Baby," he sighed. "Please don't be so sad. I promise you, if could be there, I would."

"I know …" I murmured.

There was a long silence, both of us just breathing into the phone. I didn't know what to say to him. I wanted him. I wanted him to hold me. I wanted him to seem as if he actually cared.

"I gotta go, baby girl," he finally whispered.

"Ok … bye."

"Bye, baby."

He hung up the phone and I literally lost it. Tears were steamrolling down my cheeks as I sat there in the middle of the girl's locker room, shaking uncontrollably from the rejection he'd just bestowed upon me. How could he not see it—hear it in my voice how much I needed him? He heard my cries, he even begged me not to cry, and yet it still wasn't enough to make him get on a plane.

I decided at that moment, I wouldn't answer if he called again. If he wanted to talk to me—if he wanted to see me, he could make his way down to Vegas and we would talk then. I was done playing games. I was done being his little Vegas girl, while he did god only knows what in Boston and didn't care about me. It was time for me to move on and find someone who could love me the way I loved them—now if only I was strong enough to pull it off. I knew the influence he had on me; I knew what my heart did every time his name appeared on my caller I.D. I knew the thoughts that ran through my head when I ignored his calls.

I'd vowed multiple times as I'd cried myself back to sleep each and every night that that was it—I was done with him … that I didn't deserve to be treated the way he was treating me. Yet, every time the phone rang, I answered. I'd respond to his, "I miss you baby" messages, and all was once again forgiven. I knew I needed to be stronger, but something about Edward Cullen had captivated me, and the thought of not having him as a part of my future terrified me …. I needed him more than I cared to admit.

"Excuse me …" I heard someone whisper from beside me. I quickly wiped my tears away and looked up. "Are you okay?" the petite girl with honey brown hair asked.

I stared at her, confused as to why this complete stranger was taking such an interest in me. I'd been sitting here, bawling, for I don't know how long, and not a single person so much as offered me a Kleenex. "Oh, um … yeah …." I finally muttered, again wiping away the stray tears.

"Are you sure?" she asked hesitantly. "I mean, I know you don't know me, but if you need to talk or something?"

The tears had started flowing freely again, as I shook my head. I must have looked pathetic, sitting in the middle of the girl's locker room, bawling my eyes out, but I honestly didn't need her pity. I had enough for the two of us.

"You're Bella, right?" she asked, sitting on the bench next to me.

I sniffled, wiping more tears away. "Yeah?" I asked, curious as to how this stranger knew me.

"We're in the same yoga class … Alice Whitlock."

**Author's Note**

Well, you know the drill. Review, please?!