Standard Disclaimer – I don't own Twilight or any of the characters from the story. All song selections have been provided by my amazing beta, NoWayWithWords. She is the greatest! She has set up a YouTube playlist that includes the songs chosen for the chapters. If you would like to check it out, see my profile for the link.

The song for this chapter is "Love Hurts" by Incubus.

Chapter 39 – Epiphany

Bella wasn't talking to me. The last time I had spoken to her, she had Lucy tell me to pull my dick off. I thought that was kind of rude and nothing that you would want to teach a kid to say. When I tried to call her back and tell her that, she didn't answer. I gave her two days and tried to call again, but she didn't answer. I tried later that same day, thinking that maybe she just didn't hear the phone, and my number was blocked. The realization that she had blocked my number intentionally was devastating. She didn't want to talk to me and she sure as hell didn't care to hear my explanations or excuses for my behavior. In retrospect, I didn't blame her.

Dad was acting really strange. He took me to the park to watch the kids on the swing sets. He invited me to the movies to watch a Disney film. I can't lie; I actually enjoyed the movie much more than I expected. Dad even took me to McDonald's for lunch one day. The food was marginal at best and the kids were going bat shit crazy in those brightly colored plastic tubes. I watched a little boy playing in the ball pit and found myself wondering how often they clean those things. It's no wonder kids are sick all the time. They are allowed to play in a giant germ pit. I asked my dad if letting kids play in those things was a health risk and he told me that it would be more of a health risk to keep them in a bubble their entire childhood. He explained that getting sick when you were a kid helped you build your immune system so you wouldn't be as sick as an adult. I told him he was crazy.

Mom had disappeared off of the face of the earth, which was incredibly annoying. Dad told me that she was staying in Washington to supervise the house construction. When I asked him who was managing my career while they were having their retirement home built, he told me to grow up and stop being such a selfish child. My response was to stick my tongue out at him. That made him crack up laughing. I really was annoyed that mom was spending so much time away though. I missed her.

When I finally did get in touch with my mom, she told me that she was going to be staying at Bella's house while she was waiting on her house to be built and that I could call her there if I needed her. I pointed out that Bella had my number blocked, so there was no way that I would be able to call her there. I then explained that Bella got mad at me that last time we talked and she had her daughter tell me to pull my dick off. Mom just laughed and said that she would find out what was going on and that I could leave a message on her cell phone if I needed her. I really hoped that she would get to the bottom of things because I was fucking clueless when it came to Bella.

I spent time in New York, talking to a few recording companies that seemed to be interested in offering me a contract, but their offers were worse than the one that I had just gotten out of. I talked to a company in Miami, but they wanted me to relocate to Las Vegas and start playing regularly in one of the mega-casinos. I wasn't ready to do that just yet. That seemed to me more like a retirement gig.

I emailed mom the details each time I went to talk to different companies and she would usually call me later that evening to talk me through them. I always liked hearing her perspective on things. Usually she would point out clauses that would have me paying for more than my share of the traveling expenses or were unfair to the rest of the band, but this time she was pointing out how much time I was going to have to spend on the road. One contract offer that I had received had a clause that I had to remain single for the duration of the contract. Mom didn't like that clause at all.

If I had read that clause two years ago, I would have shrugged and said that it wasn't a problem because I wasn't planning on being attached anyway, but now things were different. Now the clause seemed absolutely preposterous. Even though I couldn't picture myself with anyone but Bella, and she had no interest in even talking to me, the thought that I would be contractually unable to be with her seemed much too harsh to take.

On Saturday, mom called and said, "Hello, darling, do you have a minute to talk?"

"Sure, Mom. What's up?"

"I was just out buying groceries, so I thought I would give you a call. You know how little ears hear more than they should." That was mom's way of saying that she wanted to talk privately.

"Where's Bella?" I miss her.

"She's at home with Lucy and Alice."

"How is she doing?" Does she ever ask about me?

"She's been better. I found out what happened when she blocked your number." This was not like mom at all. She was never the kind of person to tell secrets or take sides.

I sat up straight and paid attention. "Really?"

"Yes. She was upset and talking quickly, so Lucy didn't understand everything that Bella said before she relayed it back to you. What she was trying to say was that it was going to take a grandiose gesture full of heartfelt sincerity. Gifts and flowers won't do for something like that, Edward. She also said that she didn't think you knew how to do that, so she didn't think that you could pull it off. That's the part Lucy picked up on."

I laughed, "That's fucking hilarious!"

"Watch your language, Edward. You never know when children will be listening."

"Mom, I'm at home alone. I can promise you that there are no corruptible kids running around here."

"Well, it's still a nasty habit that you don't need."

I rolled my eyes at the phone and said, "Yes, Mother. So, when are you going to come home?"

"Not for a while. Bella needs my help with Lucy for a few months."

"Why did she get the child if she can't take care of her?"

Mom sighed and avoided the question. "Edward, I promised that I wouldn't talk to you about this and you know that I always try to keep my promises."

"You won't even tell me?"

"I was asked specifically not to tell you, but I really think that this is something that you need to know about, so I'm torn."

"Is Bella alright?"

Mom paused and answered cryptically, "She is not in the same condition that she was before the two of you were together."

"Has she blown all of her money? You know I'll help her out if I can."

"No, she's actually really thrifty. You could learn a few things from her, Edward."

"Well, she knows how to reach me if she needs anything."

"Edward, you need to talk to her."

Now I was getting frustrated. "I can't very well do that if she won't take my calls."

"She can't right now. She has a medical condition that can become extremely dangerous if she is under too much stress."

"What kind of medical condition?"

"The kind that would require a person to be on bed rest for an extended period of time to reduce complications." She sighed. "You're a smart man, Edward. Think about it."

She rushed off of the phone before I could ask any more questions. I tried doing a Wikipedia search on medical conditions that require bed rest and the results scared the shit out of me. The most common result was pregnancy, but I knew Bella wasn't pregnant. She was religious about taking her birth control pill. The other two options listed were back problems and a condition called Chorea. I had never heard of that before, so I clicked on it. It described a medical condition were people have involuntary movements, like dancing. Bella always did like to dance, so this seemed possible. When I looked at the causes on Chorea, it listed a condition called Huntington's disease. That page was much larger than the previous one, detailing this genetic disorder that would eventually strip the person of their ability to control their body and their mental functions as the disease progressed. The person would eventually die from this, but the process was usually pretty horrible before that happened, if you believed what you read on the internet. Could Bella be suffering from this disease?

I said an actual prayer that Bella didn't have this and that she had just done something stupid, like try to tap dance in the shower, and managed to throw out her back. I said a second prayer apologizing for wishing back problems on someone, but I figured the big guy upstairs would get my meaning. Back pain was much better than Huntington's.

My next task was to look into donating money to Huntington's research. That was something that they really needed to figure out how to stop. According to Wikipedia, there was no cure, only treatments for the symptoms. If Bella had something like that, would I be able to be with her? Would I still love her if I knew that she was going to eventually end up writhing around in a hospital bed with severe dementia? The website said that the average life span of someone with the disease was 20 years after the onset of the physical symptoms. Could I handle that?

These thoughts started me thinking about my own life. Would she want me to love her? Bella was an independent woman. She wouldn't like having to rely on someone to give her a bath or dress her. It would kill her to have to ask someone to change her diaper or help feed her. Would I be able to do that for her?

The more I thought about it, the more I thought that I would do that for her, if she would let me. I would have to hire a nurse to help, but I could do it. Besides, she would need someone to help her take care of Lucy when things got really bad. I could do that.

I spent the entire night thinking and planning how things would work out between us. I would win her back and wait for her to admit that she had a problem. I would go ahead and find the best doctors available, so that once she admitted it to me, I would get her the help she needed right away. Bella and Lucy could move to LA to be with me and I would take care of both of them.

I called my mom the next morning and said, "I did the research like you said, mom. How advanced it Bella's condition?"

She whispered, "Extremely advanced. Much further along than originally expected."

My heart started pounding in my chest and I felt the tears well up in my eyes. "Does she need diapers?"

"No, but she will really soon."

I choked back a sob, "Mom, is she going to die?"

Mom scoffed, "I sure hope not. Women go through this all the time. This isn't the Stone Age, Edward. Doctor's know what they are doing now. You should know this. Your father's a doctor."

"She's not going to die?"

"What do you think is going to kill her, Edward?"

"Huntington's disease. I looked it up. It's a horrible way to go."

My mom paused and said, "You did the research and came up with Huntington's disease? Edward, you know that I love you, but you're an idiot." Then my own mother proceeded to hang up on me.

I got a phone call from my dad a few hours later. He laughed and promised me that Bella did not have Huntington's or any other diseases that he was aware of. He then drug me along to the Babies "R" Us so he could pick up a gift for Lucy. My parents were really crazy about that little girl.

During the days that followed, I thought about what my mom said. Bella wanted a grandiose heartfelt gesture that didn't include gifts or flowers. How was I supposed to pull that off if she wouldn't take my calls? I could take out an ad in the paper, but I wasn't even sure if she read the paper. I could rent billboards all over Seattle. Surely she would see them while she was driving around. Would that be heartfelt enough or would she think that it was too disconnected and impersonal?

All of the stress that I had been under since the start of my European tour, since I left Bella, had been building up and finally spilled over on the night of January 15th. Peter and Garrett had come over to my house to hang out and watch movies. The first thing Garrett said when he saw me was, "Edward, you know that I respect your friendship and hold you in high esteem, but you look like shit. Are you doing drugs again?"

My first reaction was to get pissed that he would think that I would ever do drugs again, but then I remembered that my own mom had thought the same thing. I wondered if my dad suspected it as well. Was that the reason that he was coming around so often? Was he checking up on me? This thought offended me most of all. My dad and I were finally starting to build a close relationship and now I was wondering if it really was bonding or if it was just him checking up on me like he would with any other patient.

As this thought entered my head, my hands started to shake and I started feeling light headed. Were any of my relationships real? Was Tanya right when she said that all of my friends hung around me because they were on my payroll? I collapsed on the couch and started to cry. Peter and Garrett stood frozen for a few minutes trying to figure out what to do and then decided to call Dr. Cheryl Matthews.

Dr. Matthews was the psychiatrist that helped me stay straight the last time I got out of rehab. I guess they thought that she would probably have them drag my ass back to the rehab center, but she decided she would drop by and see me at my house instead. I secretly think she just wanted to charge extra for the house call. When I was seeing her regularly, I was pretty sure that the woman billed by the minute.

Dr. Matthews lived only a few miles down the road, so she got there pretty quickly. She was dressed in old baggy clothes, which was very different than her usually sophisticated business suits with her grey hair pulled up in one of those twists that made it look like she had a hairy white donut balanced on the top of her head. When she walked in and saw me crying on the couch, as I had been doing non-stop for nearly an hour, she looked concerned.

"Edward, why are you crying?"

This brought on a new flood of tears. Peter and Garrett looked concerned but uncomfortable. They decided this would be a good time to head to the kitchen to grab a beer.

The good doctor put her hand on my shoulder and said, "Edward, you need to try to think about something else. Peter says you were going to watch a movie. What movie were you planning on watching?"

I choked out, "Die Hard."

She snorted, "I've never understood why they named it that. He doesn't die. They should've just called it Testosterone Overload. At least then people would know what it was."

I managed to chuckle between tears, already feeling my mood lift.

Dr. Matthews smiled. "Ok, that's better. Now, are you going to make me drag you into the office to pee in a cup or are you going to tell me the truth?"

"I'm not using again. I haven't touched the stuff since the last time you busted me. I promise. I've just been under a lot of stress lately and I've been having some relationship problems. I'm not going to lie and say that I haven't thought about it… a lot, especially with all that's been going on, but I haven't done anything. I haven't even tried to call anyone to see what they have. I swear."

She gave me a sympathetic smile and said, "I don't know why, but I believe you. You've been clean for a long time, Edward. Please don't think that it would be okay to have even a little bit. The addiction is still there. It will always be there. All it needs is a little taste and it will pull you back in like a black hole."

"I know. That's why I haven't done anything, but sometimes I think about how it would feel good to be numb again. Then I wouldn't care about all of this shit."

"What kind of shit?"

"Work, home, relationships, friends, legal issues, you name it."

"Would you like to come by the office and talk about it tomorrow? I have a few hours in the morning."

"Why? Are you running out of money yet? Is that why you're dressed like this?" I pointed at her dirty clothes.

She laughed, "I was gardening, Edward. It's a hobby of mine. You should stop by the house and look at my roses. They are quite beautiful."

"You have roses in January?"

"I have roses all year. Now, are you going to come by the office tomorrow or not? I think it would help to get things off of your chest. I am free from 8 a.m. to 11 a.m. Should I expect you there at 8 a.m. sharp?"

I sighed in defeat. "Okay. I'll be there. Same place?"

"Yes. I haven't gone anywhere. Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to head back home and finish my gardening." On her way out the door, she stopped and spoke to Peter and Garrett. They exchanged smiles and business cards before she left and they came back in to start the movie as if nothing had happened. Other people would want to sit around and talk about why they just saw you lose your shit, but not these guys. That's why I liked to hang around them. Once they were sure that I wasn't strung out or going to off myself in the bathroom, they were ready to just let it all slide and pretend that nothing bad ever happened.

Even though I hadn't been up that early in forever, I found myself sitting in Dr. Matthews's office with a cup of coffee in my hand at 8 a.m. sharp. She was back in her normal business suit with her hair up in that donut style that I was so familiar with. As I sat down on her overstuffed couch, I felt like a stupid kid again.

"So, Edward, tell me what brings you here today."

"My car."

She rolled her eyes and said, "Funny. Now, what stupid shit have you done that required my visit last night?" That's what I like about Dr. Matthews. She looked like a sweet old lady, but she was a tough old biddy when she needed to be.

I spent the next couple of hours talking about my relationship with Bella, the legal problems with Jane, my horrible European Tour, the production company problems, the things Tanya had said about me, and my attempt at changing myself for the better. I even told her about my chick flick marathon. She took more notes than I think I had ever seen her take. By the time we reached the end of our extended session, she suggested that I go on a retreat of self- discovery.

"You want me to do what?"

"It's like a vacation, but you go by yourself. The staff will customize different activities for you that will help you learn more about yourself. I went on one a few years ago. It was very enlightening. I'll give you the information."

"And if I don't think something like that will work for me?"

"Then you can spend the next two years visiting me once a week to deal with your issues."

"So you're saying that this trip will fix my problems?"

"No, but it will help reduce stress and give you a clear unbiased look at yourself."

She handed me a brochure and a business card. The cover of the brochure showed a lady in a hammock on a beach somewhere, sipping a fruity drink. In bold letters across the top was the word, "Relax." Great. Now the Frankie Goes to Hollywood song was stuck in my head.

By the time I made it home, I had already called and made my reservation. The place had four different locations around the country. The only one I could get into quickly was in New Mexico. It wasn't the beach that was shown on the cover of the brochure, but it was still beautiful. I was impressed when I looked up the pictures on my iPhone. The activities that this place was known for was horseback riding, hiking, fishing, golf, bird watching, and a long list of other things that I had no interest in remembering.

Looking at my calendar, I decided to go ahead and book a three week getaway. That would put me back in town right before the Grammy's. I didn't tell anyone where I was going. I just told them that I was going to be unavailable. I didn't even tell Peter.

If I was going to have an ice cube's chance in hell at discovering myself, I would need to do it without any outside influence. I also didn't want people to expect anything special when I got back, like suddenly I would start spouting important and meaningful shit.

I followed the instructions to a tee and only packed the things that they recommended that I bring. Sticking with my typical travel plans, I shipped all of my things earlier, so that they would arrive the day before my arrival. I didn't trust those creepy luggage handlers at the airport. I had lost way too many pairs of underwear over the years to trust anyone with my baggage.

When I arrived, I was met by a tall Native American man with long black hair. He held up a sign that read, "EAC". They purposely didn't use full names because they didn't want to draw any attention. When I approached the guy, he gave me a nod and said, "Good afternoon, Mr. Cullen. Do you need to pick up anything in baggage claim?"

"No. I shipped it all ahead of time."

The man nodded and said, "Good. If you would like to follow me; the car is right outside."

When we got in the car, the man put on some soft classical music and asked, "Mr. Cullen, do you have your paperwork?"

I reached in the small bag that I was carrying and handed him my packet of information. It included my emergency contact information, a copy of my driver's license and insurance card, a medical release from my doctor, and a brief questionnaire about myself. To my surprise, the questionnaire didn't ask about my problems or anything like that. It only asked if I was allergic to foods, bugs, and stuff like that. It asked about my normal physical activity levels. It also asked about any phobias that I might have. I wrote that I didn't have any phobias, but I used the back of the form to list my security concerns.

The man looked over the paper and nodded. "It looks like everything is in order. Do you need to call anyone and let them know that you have arrived?"

"No."

"Ok, then if you will please turn off your phone and all other electronic devices and place them in this plastic bag, we will be on our way."

It scared the shit out of me, but I did as he asked. He put the plastic bag with my paperwork and electronics in the trunk of the car and then got behind the wheel. Once we pulled away from the curb and started driving away from the airport, my paranoia started to kick in and I started worrying that I may have just set myself up for an abduction and this guy might be driving me off to the middle of nowhere so he could kill me.

"I think it might be a good idea to check in with someone after all. Can you please pull over so I can get my phone?"

The man made eye contact in the rear view mirror as he informed me, "Sorry sir, you've already started your retreat. If you would like to pass a message on to someone, you may do so once we get there." He pulled onto the highway and said, "It will be about an hour's drive, so you might as well get comfortable."

"You can't just pull over really quick? I was just going to call my doctor and let her know not to worry."

"Dr. Matthews already knows that you are here. I spoke to her personally when your plane landed."

"How do I know that you are telling me the truth?"

"Because she told me not to take any shit from you and that she would be sending you a bill for every minute that she has to spend explaining to the staff at the retreat why you are such a basket case."

He'd obviously spoken with Dr. Matthews. Somehow, knowing that made me feel a little better.

The retreat was nothing like I expected. The place was literally a recreation of the old west. There was no electricity, so you either went to sleep when the sun went down or you had to light a candle or lantern. I had a small house that I shared with a guy that was basically my babysitter, for lack of a better word. His job was to make sure I didn't completely go off the deep end and freak out in the middle of the night or do something stupid, like leave the candle burning next to the drapes while I went to sleep.

I had to cook my own meals from scratch. Thankfully, there was a lady that helped teach me how to make basic meals. I had to wash my clothes in a river. I had to pump water from a well in the middle of town. I had to haul water to my house and boil it if I wanted a bath. I had a horse that I had to take care of and I was given a list of things that I needed to accomplish during the day, like cut so many cords of wood, help the old man at the general store by mopping the floors, and play a round of cards in the saloon at the end of the day. Some days were different than others but they were all filled with hard work. By the end of each day I was so exhausted that I didn't care how uncomfortable my little bed was.

The last thing I pictured before I fell asleep was Bella's face. I hoped she would like the new, improved version of me.

On my third day, I had to haul 50 gallons of water up the side of this steep hill, but I couldn't use my horse. That was well over 400 pounds of liquid, not including the containers that I had to haul the water in. I struggled with this all morning. First, I tried to put as much water as I could in a wheelbarrow that I found in the barn, but when I tried to push it up the hill, I tipped it over and spilled the water. I tried this several times, but every time, I would hit a rock and spill the water. By noon, I was so frustrated that I just sat down on the ground and cried like an idiot.

That's when the old man from the general store came walking by and said, "What's botherin' ya, son?"

"I'm trying to get the water up the hill, like I was told to, but I keep spilling it."

"So do you think you're goin' about it the right way then?"

"It's the easiest way."

He laughed, "Apparently not. If it were the easy way, you'd have been done by now."

"What am I supposed to do then? I can't carry it up there all by myself."

"Who said you have to do it all by yourself?"

That's when the light came on in my head. I needed to ask for help. I had been helping this old man by mopping his store. That's why he came along to help point me the right direction. Now I needed to ask someone else to help me and in return, I needed to be prepared to help them when they needed it. It was a give and take arrangement.

I found the guys that I played cards with at night and asked them to help me move the water. They were young and strong, so they didn't have much trouble helping me push the wheelbarrow up the hill. With one of them on each side to keep it from tipping over, we were able to get the water up there pretty easily and it only took a few trips. Later that night, when I was cooking dinner for me and the guy that I shared the house with, I told him all about my day and how it really made me feel good when I was able to say that I had succeeded.

During the days that followed, I helped the guys that helped me. One of them needed someone to help him clean out the stalls at the horse stables in town. The other one asked me if I could help his sister finish a quilt that she was going to give as a gift to a friend. I knew nothing about quilting and felt kind of funny sitting in a room full of women while they stitched little pieces of cloth together, but once they showed me what to do and helped me thread the needle, I got the hang of it pretty quickly.

I listened to them talk about their families and problems that they were having with their husbands. By the end of the day, I had stabbed myself so many times with those damn needles that my fingertips were tender. I'd also learned all of the gossip around town and given some pretty good advice to some of the ladies who just needed a man's perspective on things. Some of them had a pretty narrow and negative opinion regarding men, while others were just clueless.

In return for giving them advice, they gave me a woman's perspective on my problems with Bella. The general reaction from the woman was to tell me that we needed to talk. They also said that maybe I should try just putting all of my feelings out in the open. One of the ladies said, "Even if she stomps on your heart, at least you will know where you stand and you can move on from there. Playing a guessing game gets you nowhere."

They were right – I needed to take a chance. I just had to figure out how.

On the last day, I woke up to find a Jeep parked in front of my house. The driver said, "Good morning, Mr. Cullen. I'm here to take you to the resort. Have you packed your things?"

"Yes. I packed them last night."

"Great. I'll load them up and then we can head back to civilization."

My roommate came out and gave us a hand loading up. I thanked him and then we were off. The ride to the hotel seemed to go by so quickly. I was used to either walking or taking my horse. I was definitely not going to miss that horse. It's a lot of work taking care of them and you walk away with a sore ass in the end.

After what seemed like a short drive, we arrived at a huge luxurious hotel with a really nice view. This was the place that they showed in the brochure for the New Mexico location. My luggage was handed off to a lady who was going to launder all my dirty clothes for me while I took a nice hot shower and was pampered in the spa. Four hours later, after a massage, shave, haircut, manicure, and pedicure, I was able to step into my clean clothes and sit down with my retreat director to go over my progress.

He showed different video clips of me doing things around town and video taped interviews of the people that I'd interacted with. I wasn't even aware that there were cameras hidden all over the town. I knew that the people were actors, but I didn't know that they were my counselors. I thought they were just there to create the atmosphere.

I laughed at the video of me struggling to get the damn water up the hill and felt like an idiot when I was caught on tape crying like a baby. The complete conversation with the old man from the general store was caught on tape. The counselor that was playing the part of the old man commented on our conversations and gave feedback on what I needed to work on when I got back to my real life. There was a hilarious video of me learning to quilt and observations from the different ladies in the room with me. A few of the younger ones even giggled in their interview about how excited they were getting to meet me.

By the time we watched the entire video and talked about it, I realized that I had learned a lot about being a valuable person in the community: sharing, asking for help, listening to the people around me, thinking outside the box, and even that I was capable of doing hard physical labor if I needed to. I had done some pretty impressive things during my three weeks roughing it. Each time I accomplished something that I thought was impossible, my self-confidence got a considerable boost. I also learned that there is a big difference between being self-confident and being cocky. I had always been cocky, but being cocky often leads to recklessness. Being self-confident means that I really know what I'm doing and I realize that if I am proven to be wrong, there is no shame in asking for help.

I slept in a real bed that night and the next morning I flew home. I even checked my luggage at the counter, but I still put a stranger's name on the tag. When I arrived back in LA, I turned on my phone for the first time and found that I had 37 missed calls. Instead of listening to all of the messages, I decided to just call Peter and let him know that I was back. "Hey, Peter, it's Edward."

"Where the fuck have you been, Edward?" He was pissed. "You've been missing for a month! Do you know how worried everyone has been? You're dad is freaking out. Why didn't you tell anyone that you were checking yourself into rehab? We would have understood and supported you. You know that."

"I wasn't in rehab, Peter. I was on a self-discovery retreat and it wasn't a month."

"Call it whatever you want, Edward. We all know it was rehab. The point is that you are clean now and you're going to stay that way, right?"

"It wasn't rehab, dipshit! Dr. Matthews recommended it."

"She's the shrink responsible for keeping you drug free, right? Well it would make sense that she would send you to rehab. Now, stop arguing with me. Where the hell are you?"

"I'm on my way home from the airport. I should be there in about twenty minutes."

"Well you'd better call your mother. She's pretty pissed."

I decided that I would wait until I was home to call my parents because no one should ever have to deal with a full-fledged mother-induced guilt trip while trying to operate a motor vehicle. That is some dangerous shit. When I pulled into the driveway, I wasn't surprised at all to see my dad's Mercedes parked out front. They were waiting on me… both of them. They came out to meet me as I climbed out of the car. My dad gave me pat on the back, "How was rehab? Was it as bad as last time?"

I scowled at him. "Why the hell does everyone think I was in rehab? I haven't done drugs in years. You all know that. I was at a retreat. It wasn't rehab! Drugs had nothing to do with it. It was all about self-discovery. OK? I was discovering myself!"

Mom walked up to me and gave me a hug and then quickly slapped me on the arm, hard. "Edward, so help me... If you ever disappear like that again without telling anyone where you are, I am going to... I don't know, but it won't be good! I was scared to death. If it weren't for Peter tracking down Dr. Matthews to see if she thought you had gone off the deep end and done something drastic, I don't know what I would have done. She wouldn't tell us where you were, only that you'd be back before the Grammy's." Tears started to well up in her eyes. "You're my only baby, Edward."

"I know, Mom. I'm sorry. I should have said something. I just needed a little time away from everyone and everything. I really didn't think that anyone would really miss me."

Mom sighed and said, "Oh, Edward, of course we miss you. Now, let's get inside. We need to talk."

Just then, Dr. Matthews pulled up and got out of her car. "Sorry if I'm late."

Mom gave her a smile. "You're right on time. Please come in, Cheryl. We were just about to get started."

I suddenly felt all of the hair stand up on the back of my neck. The last time I was in this situation, I was sent away to rehab. "I haven't done any drugs! I swear that I am as clean as... Dad! I'll pee in the cup. You can even take my blood."

Everyone ignored me and headed inside my house as if I had not said a word. I followed them, but I was still feeling very uneasy about the whole situation. Once inside, mom, dad and Dr. Matthews decided that we should all sit around the dining table. Mom poured water for everyone as Peter and Garrett arrived with Aro.

I eyed them all suspiciously. "What is this?"

Mom handed out the water and said, "We're having an intervention, Edward."

I moved to get up and stomp off, like a child. "I am clean, damn it! What the fuck do I have to do to convince you people?"

Dr. Matthews, who was sitting right beside me, put her hand on my arm, "Sit down, Edward! Don't humiliate yourself by making this little old lady kick your ass in front of your friends and family. You know that I will do it!"

She was right. She would do it. I sighed and sat down as my mother continued. "Edward, this isn't about drugs. This is about your inability to pull your own head out of your ass and deal with things."

My mouth fell open. My mom only cursed when she was extremely angry. For her to say the word "ass", she had to be bottling up some serious hostility.

Dad took her hand and said, "Son, we love you very much, but we are extremely disappointed that you have done nothing to resolve your issues with Bella."

Aro nodded in agreement. "Dude, you did nothing but whine and complain about how much you missed her for months but you still haven't done anything."

"This is about Bella?" I said with both confusion and irritation. "I have been doing something. I've been working on myself. That's what this discovery trip was all about. I was trying to find myself so that I would be better for myself and for her."

Dr. Matthews said, "Bullshit, Edward. That would be like cleaning a house that was on fire so that the firemen won't think that you're a slob."

"What? You were the one that suggested the retreat!"

"Yes, I did, but I didn't realize that you were using it to run from more serious issues."

"What serious issues? I told you about the court case and the contract problems."

Mom's face turned red as she squeezed Dad's hand. "Edward Cullen, have you read any of the emails that I have sent you over the last month? Have you even tried to figure out what the hell was going on with Bella? You haven't even tried to work things out with her!"

"She blocked my fucking number, mom! How the hell am I supposed to work things out if she won't fucking talk to me?"

"Don't you curse at me, boy! I will put you over my knee!"

Aro had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. I think Garrett was having a hard time fighting off the giggles as well.

Mom didn't notice. "You had her address. You could have just shown up. I was there with her. You could have used that as an excuse to pop in. You could have called her manager and asked her to pass on a message. There are a hundred different ways that you could have tried to reach out to her, but you chose to do none of them and now you have lost the opportunity of a lifetime."

"What opportunity?" I was completely confused.

Dad looked me directly in the eyes from across the table and took on his professional doctor tone. "While you were gone, Bella gave birth to a little boy – your son. His name is Mason."

My vision went blurry and I swear my ears were ringing as I gasped, "What?"

"You are a father, Edward."

I must have turned green because Peter appeared out of nowhere with a mop bucket that I didn't even know that I owned. As if on cue, my stomach lurched and I proceeded to empty the contents of my stomach into the bucket. I was vaguely aware of Aro bitching about the smell as I puked, but I didn't care.

Mom handed me my glass of water and produced some peppermints out of her purse as Peter hauled the bucket into the bathroom to dispose of the contents.

My head was still spinning as I tried to make sense of it all. "Why did she do that?"

Aro rolled his eyes and said, "Probably because she was pregnant, dumb ass."

"I figured that, but how?"

Everyone chuckled as Dr. Matthews said, "I'm sure we can find some informative videos on the Internet if you really don't know where babies come from, but I suspect you were trying to figure out how Bella ended up pregnant. I'm assuming you used protection, right?"

"She was on the pill. I saw her take it every night before going to bed. She never missed a single one."

Dad explained about the antibiotics and about how devastated Bella was when she found out she was pregnant. "She was worried that you would think that she was trying to trap you into an unwanted relationship or that she was going after your money."

"Bella wouldn't do that. She's not that kind of woman," I snapped defensively.

"You're right, son. She's not."

"I don't understand why she didn't tell me."

Mom sighed sadly. "She was scared, Edward. She said that you were very adamant about not wanting kids. You even broke up with her over the idea of adopting Lucy, so she figured you wouldn't want anything to do with this child either."

"What?" I could feel my rage building up. "Are you taking her side on this? I'm your son! Why didn't you tell me? Am I the only one left in the dark here? This is bullshit! She should have said something. You all should have said something!"

Aro held his hands up. "Don't look at me. I didn't know about it either. I was just coming to tell you get the stick out if your ass and talk to Bella before I have to beat the shit out of you, tie you to the hood of the car, and drive you to Seattle myself. Your brooding had made us all miserable. I'm happy that you're trying to find yourself, but we are all suffering because of it and frankly I'm fed up. If you don't want her back, then stop pouting and go get laid so we can move on already." He turned to my mom and said, "Pardon the language, Mrs. Cullen."

I looked at Peter. He shook his head. "I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know she was pregnant. She's been missing from the spotlight for too long. That's just not normal for a rock star whose music is at the top of the charts. She should be showing up in tabloids and attending parties, or at least performing somewhere. Instead, she had just disappeared." He turned to mom and asked, "Is she doing ok?"

Mom answered, "She's better now. The pregnancy was really hard on her. Every time she got upset – mostly from talking to you – she started to go into labor."

Mom paused to glare at me. "She could have lost the baby. Her doctor had her on bed rest for the last six weeks. That's really hard when you have a three year old to deal with."

I felt my heart clench in my chest. "That's why you were staying with her. You told me that she was stuck in bed."

"Yes. I tried to tell you about it in a way that would allow me to keep my promises. We both did," she looked at my father and patted his hand before turning back to me. "You're just so pig-headed that you wouldn't catch the hint. When I got frustrated and hung up on you, I decided that I was just going to have to break my promise to Bella and tell you if you had any chance to work things out and at least be there for the birth. I sent you an email with a picture of Bella sleeping on the couch with her huge belly. In the email I told you to call my cell so you could talk to her."

"I haven't received any emails from you." I pulled out my phone and pulled up my email account. There were 12 unread emails from my parents jumbled in with a bunch of junk. "Well, maybe I did get a few. I just haven't read them yet."

Dad spoke up, "We tried to call you when Bella went into labor, but we couldn't find you. Your mom videotaped the entire thing so that you could watch it once we tracked you down."

The world tilted sideways around me again as I tried to process it all.

"What's going through your head right now, Edward?" Dr. Matthews asked. "I'm sure you're probably a little overwhelmed and probably feeling a bit betrayed by your family and by Bella."

I tried to pinpoint the exact feelings. I felt like I was on an emotional rollercoaster.

When I didn't answer, Dr. Matthews said, "Let's look at your feelings one by one. Remember, you can't climb up the face of a cliff, but you can baby step up the side of a mountain. I think this definitely qualifies as a mountain. Now, what makes you angry right now, Edward?"

"Everything! I'm mad at Bella and my parents for keeping this from me, even though I understand why Bella didn't want to tell me. I'm mad at myself for not calling sooner. I'm mad at the stupid email account for filling up with so much crap that I didn't notice my mom's email before I left. I'm mad that I'm sitting here looking like an idiot in front of everyone."

The doctor shook her head, "You don't look like an idiot, Edward. Believe me, I would tell you if you looked like an idiot. Now, tell me what has you worried?"

"I'm worried about how she is doing. I'm worried that the baby might turn out like me. I'm worried that I will hate it. I'm worried that it will hate me. I'm worried that I'll be a shitty father. I'm worried that I won't get a chance to be a shitty father because Bella won't take my fucking calls."

Mom scowled at my language but didn't say anything.

Dr. Matthews was beaming. She looked so proud of me for getting in touch with my feelings. "Those are great points, Edward. Can you think of anything positive?"

"No," I said honestly. "All I can think of right now is how fucked up this situation is and how much I want all of you people to get the fuck out of my house."

"Edward!" Mom scolded. "Don't be rude!"

I rolled my eyes and shouted, "If you don't want to hear it, you are more than welcome to leave. I don't understand why all of you people are sitting here anyway."

My dad spoke up. "Edward, we are here because you have a problem and we love you enough that we are here to make you face the facts and confront this issue head on."

I stood up and threw my hands in the air in frustration. "I am not on fucking drugs! Why can't you people get that through your fucking heads?"

Dr. Matthews leveled her gaze at me and said, "Sit down, Edward. You look like an idiot. Only children throw temper tantrums."

I let out a sigh and sat down. Once I was seated, dad said, "Edward, this isn't about substance abuse. This is about your fear of any kind of relationship with substance. You love Bella. We all know that you do and I am pretty sure that you know this as well. What we don't understand is why you are so afraid to make amends or at least face her."

"You don't know anything about it. None of you know anything about what I've been going through."

"We may not know all of the details, but one thing is blatantly clear. You are being a coward, Edward." My dad turned to Peter and said, "In your opinion, has Edward dealt with his feelings for Bella in a rational way?"

"How the hell would Peter know what a rational way is? He's a bodyguard, not a therapist!"

Dr. Matthews held up her hand to stop my yelling and said, "Carlisle, I think the first thing that you need to do is to clearly list your expectations and then you can ask others if they feel he has met them. That eliminates confusion and assumptions."

Dad nodded his agreement and said, "Thank you, Dr. Matthews. That does make sense. Okay, so let me say that I think a rational man who has been away from someone that he loves for an extended period of time would rush back to her as soon as humanly possible. I would think that during their separation, he would move mountains to speak with her at every opportunity, even if it was just to let her know that he was thinking of her. I don't think that my son has done either of these things. Am I correct, Peter?"

Peter glanced at me and then returned his focus on my father. "Yes, sir."

Dr. Matthews said, "I think those sound like the actions you would expect from a young couple in a committed relationship. How do you think a young man who has never been in a relationship before would react if he was not in a committed relationship and feared that his feelings were one-sided? Would he still call at every available moment, or would he be afraid of rejection?"

The room went silent and all eyes were on me.

Dr. Matthews turned her attention to Peter and asked, "Peter, you are probably closer to Edward than any of us. Would you say that Edward has ever reacted in a way that was common with other people in his age group?"

I narrowed my eyes at Peter in warning, but he ignored me. "I don't think Edward has had the opportunity to mature in the same way that most people have. I think a lot of that has to do with the sheltered life that his success has forced upon him. He doesn't have many real friends and can't exactly have a normal social life. It's been this way since he was a teenager."

"Those are excellent observations, Peter," Dr. Matthews said. "Esme, can you remind us how old Edward was when he became successful?"

"Well, he started touring as a headliner when he was sixteen, so we had to pull him from public school and complete his education with tutors."

Dr. Matthews thought for a moment, and spoke. "So that is probably right around the age when his emotional development stagnated. Was he a romantic teenager?"

Mom laughed. "No. He was hormonal, but not romantic."

"So until recently, he was acting like an emotionally detached, horny teenager. Am I correct?"

Aro laughed, "I think you nailed that one right on the head."

I couldn't argue his point.

This group meeting continued on for the better part of two horrible hours while my friends and family proceeded to verbally bitch slap me for every way in which I fucked things up with Bella, while the good doctor basically pointed out that I was a fuck up, so they shouldn't expect too much.

The only enjoyable part of the whole damn thing was near the end, when mom got onto me for the fifteenth time about my language after I called Aro an asshole under my breath and Dr. Matthews said, "Esme, you do realize that your son is a grown man, don't you? If he chooses to use foul language in his own home, that's his own business. As a matter of fact, you should probably be thankful that he chose such a mild term. If he chose to call Aro a god-damn-stupid- mother-fucking-piece-of-shit-cum-guzzling-prick-bastard, you really have no say whatsoever."

I think my mom's head almost popped off from shock. Dad, on the other hand, was laughing so hard that he almost fell out of his chair. Aro nodded his approval and said, "I like her, Edward. She kicks ass."

I smiled my approval but kept my mouth shut. I knew better. My mom would definitely stew over this for a good couple of weeks and I surely didn't need the fallout.

By the time they all left, I had been very well informed that they expected me to grow a pair of balls and at least try to talk to Bella about the baby and my feelings. My parents said that they were going to come back that night to show me the video of the baby's birth, which really freaked me out. To be perfectly honest, I had no desire to watch it, but my dad said that if I didn't, he was going to personally insure that my testicles were surgically removed from their current location and reattached to my forehead with staples. Yes, I laughed, but his look was so fucking serious that the guys actually shrunk up and tried to hide behind the tool for protection.

With the house empty, I was finally able to think about things. Was I ready to be a dad? Could I handle that much responsibility? I couldn't even manage to figure out how to talk to the girl that I loved about my feelings – I'd just been subjected to an intervention for God's sake – how was I going to help her raise a child? Would they both be better off without me? Would I just end up fucking everything up again?

My mom had mentioned that Bella was going to be flying in the next day and staying with them so they could watch the kids while she attended the Grammy's. Should I try to go over there and talk to her?

No, she wanted a grandiose gesture. I had some planning to do and some phone calls to make if I was going to pull this off and get it right...

A/N: First off, I want to thank all you for being so patient with me and I want to apologize for the really long gap between chapters this time. After I managed to get past my ordeal with losing someone very close to me, my wonderful beta lost her mother, and my husband found out that he is going to have to go back into the hospital tomorrow. This has been a tough time all around, but we will make it through.

I promise to have the next chapter out next weekend. I already have it pretty much ready, so it shouldn't be a problem. OK, I have got to get some sleep or I will be a walking zombie in the morning.

Thanks and good night!

Christine (A Little Distracted)