"Paul's going to stop by after work," I announced.

"Bella!"

"Dad, I know, okay? I'm not going to rush into anything, I promise. But Paul was there for me when I really needed someone to listen, and I want to see if we can become friends. And down the road…well, we'll have to see."

"Hmm," Charlie was noncommittal. "Okay, Bells. Guess we'll see."

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Bella POV

"Bella I'm going to have to go into the station for a while, okay? I've got to swing by the hospital to see what those kids have to say about what happened, and check on the paperwork," my dad pushed aside his clearly dubious opinion of my dinner guest announcement-or maybe it was that we were just "friends", with anything else way down the road into the future.

"That's fine. Do I have enough time to run to the grocery store before the locksmith comes? Paul's coming over around six, and we're out of almost everything. I need to get some things for dinner."

Charlie glanced at his watch and nodded. "Yeah, you should have enough time—you always did hit the grocery store like it was a military operation."

"Just doing my part to avoid the marketing traps. Okay. I'll run do that now and be back in plenty of time."

I did indeed blaze through my grocery run, wincing only a little at using my car to do it. With how Edward had followed me and with what my dad had said concerning the house door locks…I was honestly getting a little freaked out with everything. If Edward had been willing to use my car's security features—a car he'd purchased as a gift for me—in order to track me down once, what would keep him from trying it again? I didn't want to think that he could go that far off the deep end, but…could I really be sure? Wouldn't it be better to be proactive, the way my dad was doing with the locks? And like he'd said, the car's title was in my name, so I could do anything I wanted to with the vehicle. Maybe Jake could help me navigate the sale or trade-in of this car for something else.

I got my first taste of public notice when I was checking out at the store. I'd had an acquaintanceship with the checkout clerk, Amy, for years from all my shopping trips, so we knew each other casually-enough so for her to notice my absent ring and comment on it.

"Your ring didn't get damaged, did it? That thing is gorgeous."

"No, it didn't, and yes, it was."

"Was?"

"I gave it back to Edward the other day. We just decided that we'd grown apart more than we'd realized over the past couple years, and we'd be better off staying friends than getting married," I announced simply. It didn't really cover things at all, but I was going to try and keep my word not to bad-mouth Edward to the people around town.

I just nodded when Amy offered her sympathy. "Thanks. But it was probably better that we came to that realization before it was late in the game or even too late. I didn't want us pulling a celebrity 'oops'."

Amy, whose position at the checkout meant she'd seen all those tabloid headlines for the brief failed marriages of Britney Spears, Kim Kardashian, and others, couldn't help grinning for a moment. "True. Well, best of luck to both of you."

With a small smile of acknowledgment, I grabbed my bags and headed for home. I'd only just started assembling a tray of lasagna when the locksmith—a middle-aged man named Steve—arrived at the front door. He was obviously curious about why the police chief had called for an immediate lock change on his house, but had the manners not to ask about it. I pointed out all the doors he'd be working on, offered him a glass of water, and then left him to his work while I returned to mine.

"All done now, Miss Bella," he told me about an hour after starting.

"Thanks, Steve. Here's some lasagna for you to take home. I wrote the cooking instructions on the foil."

"Aw, you didn't have to do this."

"But I wanted to. I know my dad's grateful you could fit this in on short notice."

"My pleasure. And thank you."

Alone in the house, I finally had the time and privacy to call my mom. Whether I wanted to talk about this again or not, she needed to know what had changed in my life in the past few days.

"Hey, Mom."

"Bella! Sweetie! How are you?"

"I'm okay. Better, anyway."

"Uh-oh. What's wrong?"

"I've called things off with Edward. We aren't getting married."

"What? Bella, honey, you love him. Why would do you something like that?"

I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it in disbelief. Was it just my imagination, or was my own mother questioning what I'd done and making it sound like I was taking a path that was stupid or wrong? But when I put the phone back to my ear, I realized it wasn't my imagination at all. Renee was still going on in the same vein.

"He's always been your dream guy, Bella. Every couple is going to have a few hiccups, especially when they start planning their wedding. Mature adults don't just throw in the towel at the first problem. Why don't you try talking to him and see if you can't work things out?"

Anger erupted in my chest and exploded outward. "Talk to him? Work things out? He fucking cheated on me, Renee-" I used her name deliberately, "-I caught him in his bed at his parents' house having unprotected sex with one of his college classmates—and not for the first time, apparently! I can't—I won't—pretend this didn't happen, and I can't trust that it won't happen again."

"But, Bella. Just think—he can give you the kind of life you deserve-"

"I am," I promised. "I'm thinking that I deserve to find someone I can trust. Someone who will put me first and not think that he can have a girl on the side and that I won't find out or care. I think it's about time I start thinking about what I want and what-who-is best for me. Clearly, that isn't Edward."

"He made a mistake, yes, but you should be the bigger person and let him prove that this mistake doesn't define him."

Fury engulfed me as every word my mother spoke only proved her shallowness and materialism.

"Forget this," I snapped. "I'm not some trophy wife or member of royalty to turn a blind eye to my husband's—or future husband's—infidelity. Edward had the choice between me and her, and he obviously chose her. I really can't believe what I'm hearing you say. I honestly thought that you'd choose me instead of him-after all, I'm your child-but it's on you that you haven't. I'm not you, Renee—I'm not going to keep tabs on my husband 24-7 to make sure he stays in line. And for that matter, it's pretty ironic of you to tell me I need to give Edward a second chance and try to work things out with him, considering your own past. You walked out on Charlie without a backward glance or even the pretense of trying to fix whatever issues the two of you had. So given all of that, you have no grounds at all to be trying to give me any kind of relationship advice. I am done with this. If you want to talk to me—and not about Edward-you know where I am. If all you're going to do is to defend my traitor-ex, then don't bother calling." With that, I hit the 'end call' button on my phone with force. I probably should have known better than to hope she'd understand, but I'd allowed myself to forget my mother's materialistic nature and our often fractious relationship.

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Paul POV

I got funny looks from both my partners when I started packing up early.

"Hot date?" Jared asked with a grin.

"Ha ha. Bella invited me over for dinner and to talk with her dad about what happened."

"I'm guessing that you banging his little girl who-knows how many times the other night won't be part of that conversation?"

"Hell, no! I like my balls right where they are."

"So you're allowing over an hour for a 5 minute drive to her dad's house because..." Sam's brows lifted.

"Because I stink and my clothes are covered in dirt and soaked with sweat."

"Good point," Sam waved his hand theatrically.

"Piss off. I'll come in early or stay late tomorrow to make up for this."

Sam brushed it off. "You better. Go on, get going." I started to do just that before his words stopped me. "Just…remember what I said earlier, okay?"

"I remember."

I set the cruise control for the drive home—last thing I wanted was for my new/future girlfriend's dad to pull me over for speeding right before the first official meeting. Less than 15 minutes after I made it home, I was showered, dressed in clean meet-the-dad clothes, and back in my truck again, heading for Bella's place.

"Hey," I greeted Bella when she opened the door for me, but stopped in my tracks when I got a good look at her face. "What's wrong?"

She almost fell into my arms and I moved us into the house, kicking the door shut behind us with a nudge from my foot—no sense giving the neighbors anything to talk about. The living room was right next to the front entry, so I walked her that way, and made sure Bella was settled on the couch. Then I crouched down in front of her. "What's wrong?" I repeated.

"I talked to my mom this afternoon," she whispered.

I was no Dr. Phil, but I didn't have to be to tell that she was upset. "And it didn't go very well," I surmised.

Bella gave a short little laugh that wasn't really a funny laugh. "It went as well as one of those botched bank robberies in a movie."

"Ouch. That bad, huh?" I winced in sympathy.

"Yeah. I suppose I should have expected it, but I always hope, you know? Even when I know better, I just can't help it."

"Want to talk about it?" I asked the question, half-hoping that Bella wouldn't take me up on the offer. Heavy emotional stuff wasn't really my thing to deal with. She did, though—like I should have expected. If this was what she needed, then I'd just have to be able to handle it somehow, and view it as a way to prove I'd be there when she needed me. Figuring this might be a long story, I stood up from my crouch and then sat down on the couch next to Bella, trying to find the invisible line between too close and not close enough. Then I just listened in silence as Bella recapped her conversation with her mom.

"I didn't cry-I swear it," she finished up. "I'm done crying over that whole mess. I admit that I did want to throw something, but managed not to."

"Nothing wrong with using a round of destructiveness as a frustration outlet," I commented, knowing just what I was talking about here. Who knew how many hours I'd poured into either home or work construction/deconstruction projects over the years?

"I know. But then I would have had to clean it up, and gotten mad about that, so it just wasn't worth it."

"I get that. Sometimes you just have to distance yourself from some people for your own good."

"Toxic personalities," she agreed. "And I know how necessary that can be. It's just a little easier to give advice than to take it, even for professionals."

"Or even, especially for professionals. We think we know just what something-or someone-needs, and don't like hearing that we might be wrong."

I was happy when she giggled. "Found that out the hard way, did you?"

"Yeah. My dad. I saw what he was like and decided I wasn't going to be like him. Might be why I haven't really been into serious relationships before now. Hadn't met 'the one' and I always had a rule to be up-front and honest with any girl I was with on what would and wouldn't come from it. Never juggled girls, either." I was making sure to let her know that I was different from Cullen.

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Bella POV

It did make me feel good to hear Paul say that, but I knew that I'd have to see him prove it, too. No doubt Edward would have said the same sort of thing if I'd asked him about fidelity. Not that I thought Paul was lying, but it was hard not to feel a little cautious.

"I've always been a very committed person," I offered to Paul. "Picked a college and degree and stuck with both. Edward was the only guy I ever really dated. I got approached all the time at school, but I never gave those guys a second look. I had a boyfriend and that was that. I never regretted or second-guessed any of those decisions before, but now…it's a little hard not to wonder if anything would have been different if I'd switched schools too, or been more social. But at the same time, I loved the school I was at, I'm happy with my career choice, and I didn't feel anything for those other guys. Am I crazy? Bipolar?"

Paul laughed. "Nah. Natural to play the 'what if' game, especially with big decisions or with things that don't work out the way you expected. We see it sometimes with people when we're building their dream house. We'll get a client who wants something unrealistic for their house or budget, or they start asking about adding something in when we've gotten a project completed. Mostly we end up convincing them that they really did make the right choice."

"And the rest of the time?"

"If they've got the money, then we make sure they understand the added cost and time and give them what they want. But we're not greedy," he hurried to assure me. "We try to cover all the possible options during the design phase to try and avoid those late changes."

Paul changed the subject then. "So what did you get your degree in? I remember you saying you stayed at U-Dub for your program instead of transferring."

"Psychology. I want to be a counselor."

"You mean like in a loony bin?"

"No! That is one type of counseling, but there are a lot of others. I think I really want to go into career counseling—helping people figure out the best career options for themselves and how to get there with education or training."

"So, a school counselor?"

"Not exactly…" and I started explaining the overlap and the differences between the two. "I'm boring you, aren't I?" I asked after a few minutes.

"No. I like getting a peek at something you're so passionate about—besides me."

"Is this your idea of taking things slow?"

"Well, I haven't pushed you down and started stripping us both, have I?"

I just stared at Paul, trying to figure out if he was really serious, or if I was disappointed that he hadn't just done it anyway.

"And I really shouldn't have said that—I'm giving myself all the wrong kinds of ideas," he groaned. "Maybe my friends are right that this is crazy."

"Then we can all be crazy together. What are your friends like? I know who they are, but I don't really know them personally."

"Sam, Jared, and I have been friends practically since we were born. We always did stuff together—like how Jake, Quil, and Embry have been. Starting a business together seemed natural. Sam handles the structural, Jared does the plumbing, and I run the electrical. Sam's wife, Leah, is great with the design aspects, and Jared's girl, Kim, helps out some with decorating when people ask about that."

"Wow, sounds like you've got the full package."

"It works well for us. Clients really seem to like it that we can handle just about everything ourselves and not have to send them to someone else."

"Do they know about…?" I trailed off, both wanting and not wanting to know the answer to the question.

"Sam and Jared do," Paul admitted. "Guess I was a bit distracted this morning and it came out."

"And…?"

"Jared gave us two thumbs up. He and Kim had a whirlwind romance, so he's the last person to knock the instant attraction thing. Sam…is a little more cautious, but like I said before, he did watch his sister go through a bad relationship and breakup. Just doesn't want anyone getting hurt."

"Sounds like you've got good friends." I found it a little interesting how Paul's two best friends had different reactions to what he'd shared with them. I couldn't blame Sam for being concerned with how fast this had happened—after all, I was just as concerned myself.

"They are. We ought to all get together sometime. I want you to meet them, and for them to meet you." Paul's dark eyes lit up with a sudden idea. "I could even ask Sam for Emily's contact info. If you want it, that is. She could maybe help you with…stuff. Be someone to talk to…"

"I'd like that. I've got some girlfriends I can talk to, but Angela and Jess didn't move back here after college, and they really haven't been through anything like this."

"I'll ask Sam." Paul twitched, stilled, and then moved a hand to tilt my face upward. My eyes automatically drifted closed as he leaned down and gave me a gentle kiss. After pulling back, Paul tugged me against his side and my head rested against his shoulder. The conversation shifted to tonight's menu—thankfully, Paul loved Italian food—and to our favorite foods and those we couldn't stand. Despite the food conversation, I completely forgot about putting the lasagna in the oven until my dad walked in the front door. I bolted to the kitchen to take care of that, and behind me heard Paul say, "Nice to meet you, Chief Swan. I'm Paul Lahote."

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AN: I'm so sorry that this has taken 4 months to get written and posted. Didn't intend for this to happen. Major writer's block and real life are to blame. Had more planned for this chapter, but I think we'll do this for now, and save the Charlie parts for the next installment.

Janmary: Sorry I couldn't reply directly, but you've got PMs disabled. Thanks so much for the compliments. Thrilled that you found this story and liked it. You have a point about the FF site not really giving much clue on how often an author updates. Unlike some authors, I don't have a set schedule of a certain day of the week/etc. when I post new chapters, nor do I complete a story before I begin posting it. If my muse cooperates, I can sometimes turn out a chapter very quickly, while other times it takes longer. My policy is to post a new chapter the second I've finished writing it and run a quick spell-check. Unlike my other stories, I started this one as a one-shot without having any plan of what was going to happen afterward. But…good news is that the things I figured out for last chapter have (I think) helped me to finally get something of an idea of the general path things will take as this story progresses. Hopefully this will help me to update more frequently—but no guarantees. If you put the story on alert, you'll get a notice when new chapters post. Thanks again, and stay tuned.

LuckyStar0489: Congrats for being review #200 for this story on FF.

i3twilight: Glad you've enjoyed this. Sorry this took a while. Real life plus writer's block…

Guest: Glad you like this. Hope you enjoyed this new installment.