I know, I know. I suck a lot.

Two more chapters and then the epilogue. Thank you for your patience and sticking with me. I promise not to be so long with the last few updates.

I own nothing Twilight.

Chapter Sixteen - Running Up That Hill

"Does it feel weird?"

I turn around to face Rosalie, who is standing behind me. She is looking at our reflection in the mirror in front of me. Rose is taller than I thought, I can tell that now that I am able to stand next to her.

"It's weird not having to look up at people all of the time," I respond, bending my knees, testing them.

"I'm going to miss having total control over you and being able to push you wherever I want to," she laughs, "Now that you can walk, I can't wheel you into walls anymore."

I roll my eyes, but can't help the laughter that flows from my lips. I never thought I'd feel this carefree again, so easily able to laugh. I also never thought I'd walk again, convinced that I was doomed to spend the rest of my life in that chair. But, after weeks of physical therapy, I am finally able to stand and walk on my own. I had forgotten how amazing it is to be able to just get up and walk, not having to make special adjustments for a wheelchair.

"You're just sad that you can't use my chair to get us a table sooner at restaurants, it's back to waiting and reservations," I turn and walk back to my bed, to the suitcase setting atop it.

It's so packed full of clothes, I don't think I'm going to be able to get it closed. I don't remember bringing that much with me when I first came here, but then again, I've acquired quite a bit of new things since I've been here. Now that there are no more bruises to hide, nothing to conceal, I've slowly been buying new clothes. Short sleeves, skirts. It only took a couple months of therapy, but I am finally able to wear my old clothes without the nauseating fear that use to accompany them.

"You look good, B," Rose plops down on her bed, happy that I have given in to wearing the wardrobe she helped select.

"You know," I start, "You can always come with me."

"Nah, you know me, I'm a lifer," she waves dismissively.

I bite my tongue, knowing that a lecture is that last thing she wants to hear right now. I haven't been able to convince her to progress her therapy any further, her fear is too deep seeded even for me. I've realized that the only thing I can offer her is my love and friendship, the rest is up to her. You can't help someone who doesn't want it.

"Are your parents picking you up?" she asks, lying back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"Edward," I respond.

"You've been seeing a lot of him lately," she smiles a knowing smile.

It's true. Since the trial, Edward has been coming to see me several times a week. At first I refused to see him, still pissed about the incident in his car. Then slowly, I began to relent. His persistence got to me.

"Bella?" a head popped into my room.

"Yeah?"

"You have a visitor," Tara, one of the nurses, announced.

I knew who it was without having to be told. Edward Cullen. My parents only came on Sundays, other than that, I never got any visitors aside from the occasional Saturday visit from a random classmate. Edward came during the week, usually just a little after school got out. He must've drove like a maniac to get here in the short amount of time it took him. He had begun showing up almost immediately after the trial and kept coming, even when I refused to see him.

"Send him in," I replied, feeling the butterflies start in my stomach.

My body's reaction to Edward terrified me. The way he gave me goose bumps just by looking at me. Like he could see through me. But then again, he's always been that way, always able to see through the bullshit. I just never gave into my feelings for him, to afraid of the consequences from Jacob. The more he came, however, the more I began to see the real Edward. He wasn't the self-absorbed jerk I initially saw him as when he first came to Forks. By now, I obviously realized that he was caring and protective. What I was seeing more and more was the side of him that I imagined few others saw: the sweet, gentle side. The side that brushed the hair out of my face or wiped the tears away when I cried.

"I think Nurse Tara might have a thing for me," he said as he entered the room.

"Yeah?" I laughed, "Why is that?"

"Well, she's always really friendly and nice. She steals me orange juice from the cafeteria and also, she gave me her number," he responded, holding up a piece of paper that I assume has the digits on it.

"Well, yeah, I guess that's all the proof you need," I turned away, standing by the window, taking in the first blooms of spring.

I felt him come up behind me, the heat off his body radiating onto me. A chill ran up my spine, causing me to shiver.

"Cold?" he asked, placing his hands on my arms, rubbing to create warmth.

I nodded, not wanting him to remove his hands. His hands made me feel safe in a way that I haven't felt in a long time.

"I'm not going to call her," he whispered into my ear.

I smiled, then quickly removed it before saying, "Why would I care if you called her?"

"I don't know why you'd care, all I know is that I'd care if you called some boy," his lips were still by my ears.

The smile came back to my lips, and I did my best to hide it from him. I wasn't ready to give myself to him or anyone like that right now.

"Do you have to go back to school right away?" Rose asks, pulling me from my memories.

"No, not for another week. Dr. Moore told my parents I need a little time to adjust back to my home life before being thrown back in with the wolves," I set the suitcase onto the floor, sitting down on the bed to tie my shoes.

"Are you gonna write to me and tell me what life's like on the outside?" she jokes.

She always does this, says things to make it sound like we're prisoners. I guess to her, she is. Only not to this place, not the rehab facility, but to the secrets she refuses to share, even with me. She's using this place as a crutch, a term I've learned in therapy. She's too afraid to open up and let go, afraid that if she does, she'll lose all control. I never say any of this to her, of course. It's not my place, I'm only here to offer her support when she finally decides to let go and live.

"Of course," I answer her, "I'll still visit too. I'll bring you cakes with nail files baked into them."

She sighs, and I know a part of her wishes she was the one leaving today. I can't even begin to imagine what goes on inside of her head, but she'd probably say the same thing about me.

"Bella?" Nurse Tara steps into our room, "Edward's here."

"Checkmate!" I yelled, throwing my hands victoriously in the air.

"When the hell did you learn how to play chess?" Edward grumbled, re-setting the pieces.

"Edward, I'm in a rehab center. It's either play chess or watch 'Days of Our Lives,'" I replied.

"Not a soap fan?" he asked, laughing.

"Well, yeah, but 'Days of Our Lives' comes on at 2 p.m. That leaves a lot of time in between to kill," I shrugged, causing him to laugh harder.

"You never cease to surprise me, Swan," he teased, reaching up to ruffle my hair.

I felt the tingles immediately, the same ones I always felt any time he touched me. I wondered if he felt them too, when he whispered into my ear or put his hand on the small of my back, guiding me somewhere.

"So," I started, trying to break the tension building up inside me, "How are things going at school?"

"You mean, is everyone still gossiping about you?" he laughed.

"Well yeah," he knew me too well.

"They were after the trial, but then it got out that Tanya slept with Coach Carter and that sort of took over the rumor mill," he replied, putting the chess pieces back into place, "I know, you're probably heartbroken at not being the center of attention anymore."

"I'll probably cry myself to sleep tonight or start plotting my affair with Principal Danford. I must top her!" I shook my fist defiantly in the air.

I looked down at the board, resetting the pieces. After a few seconds of silence, I looked up to see Edward staring at me. His eyes were bright green, like emeralds. My breath caught in my throat as his gaze burned into me, and I wondered if he could see the effect that he had over my body. He reached his hand up, bringing it slowly to my face. I could feel the heat radiating off his skin long before he made contact. His finger touched my cheek, gently sweeping the sensitive area underneath my eye.

"You have an eyelash," he said, his voice low, deep.

Oh.

"Oh," I blushed, feeling stupid for getting so worked up.

He held it up to me, lightly saying, "Make a wish."

I wish you would love me.

I blew on his finger, the lash floating away.

"What'd you wish for?" he asked.

"I can't tell you, it won't come true," I focused back down on the chess board.

I stared harshly at it, angry once again for letting myself feel for him the way I did. I was just a friend to him. I mean, I knew that he cared deeply for me, his actions had long shown me that. But he'd never love me like I wanted him to, he'd seen too much of me. He'd seen how weak I could be, how powerless I could let myself become. He was probably too disgusted to ever let himself have those emotions for me.

"Stop," he said suddenly.

I looked up at him, confused.

"I can see what you're thinking," he started, "Stop."

"How do you know what I'm thinking?" I asked, leaning back in my chair.

"Because I know you, Bella," he leaned forward in his chair, "I know you better than you think I do."

I just shook my head, not understanding him. He looked around the room, for what, I wasn't sure. There was no one there except the two of us, everyone else probably in the cafeteria or their own rooms.

"We're a lot alike, you and I," he turned back to me, "I realized that the second I met you, I could see it in your eyes. The feeling of being lost, of being alone. I'd only ever seen it before in one person: my mother. You are so much like her, sometimes it scares me."

He smiled sadly, remembering something.

"She would've liked you a lot," he continued, "I like you a lot."

I stared into his eyes, not understanding.

"Bella, I like you," he repeated.

"I like you too, Edward," I replied, for lack of knowing what else to say.

"No," he laughed, "I mean, I have more-than friendly feelings for you. I have for a long time."

My mouth must've been hanging wide open, or at least it felt like it should've been. I couldn't understand, couldn't get that the words I had longed to hear were actually being said to me.

"At first, I tried to ignore them, because you had a boyfriend," he looked down at the mention of Jacob, "But the more I got to know you, the more I saw of the person you once were. . .I knew that deep down that girl was still inside you. I wanted so bad to be the one who brought that girl back out."

"Really?" I heard myself asking.

"You made it really hard for me sometimes, but I couldn't give up on you," his voice was muddled with emotion, "Not when everyone else already had."

I leaned towards him, our bodies drawn to each other. Once again, I could feel his breath on my face. Once again, his eyes lingered on my lips. Once again, we kissed, tentatively at first and then passionately. This time, however, neither of us pulled away.

"Ladies," Edward says as he walks into the room.

Rose just smiles at us, heading towards the door to allow us a bit of privacy.

"Make sure you say goodbye before you leave," she says, walking out of the room, "Or else I'll put you back in that wheelchair."

I laugh, walking back to my bed to pick up my suitcase. Setting it on the floor, I turn to Edward. He surprises me by being right in front of me when I turn. His arms go to my hips, one on either side. He doesn't say anything, just leans down so that our foreheads are touching.

"I missed you," I whisper.

He smiles, that lazy smile that drove me and every other girl at Forks High insane from the moment he set foot on campus. He brings his lips to mine, they're soft, gentle. Never rough, never forceful.

"Edward," I break the kiss, our foreheads still touching, "You're not going to break me."

The way he looks at me sometimes, the way he touches me, I know that he's so scared of hurting me. He treats me like I'm glass, a fragile little creature.

"I know," he pulls me closer to him, our hips touching.

"Do you?" I ask.

"Bella," the way he says my name always makes my heart beat faster, "We have all the time in the world. I'm just trying to savor every moment."

He moves to sit us both on the edge of the bed, intertwining our fingers. I stare down at them, enjoying the way my fingers look laced with his. The smile on my face is so big and genuine, so foreign to me. My cheek muscles still aren't use to stretching for a grin rather than bracing for a hit. I didn't know it was possible to feel this amount of love with absolutely no fear.

"Hey," he says, lifting my chin with his finger, "I've never had this before, it's new to me. I've spent my whole life trying to keep people out, but you were always different. There was always something about you that scared me, because I knew that if I let you in, it would change me forever. I want to take things slow, not because I'm afraid I'll hurt you-I know that I could never, ever hurt you. You know that, right?"

I nod, a tear sliding down my cheek.

"I'm taking them slow because I want to remember everything, every touch, every kiss," he pecks my lips with his own, "Every smile, every laugh. Everything."

"You're right," I say, resting my head on his shoulder as I lean against him, "We have all the time in the world."

The epilogue has actually been written since I finished the first chapter, so I just will be filling in the remaining blanks.

Please let me know what you think.