Prompt: right, rite, write

unbeta'd, still. These two ran away with this chapter. Ignore any mistakes, please. :)

"Do you want me to pick you up tomorrow morning?" he asks.

"No, I'll call Angie."

"Okay."

"Thanks for the rescue," I say, though my sarcasm isn't meant for him.

"Sure."

His SUV is comfy. Thick leather seats. Plenty of leg room. The ride is smooth. It smells nice, too. Clean.

I'm suffocating in here. I'm also defiling the cleanliness and faithfulness of the married man's family vehicle with my idiocy.

My ever-growing list of needs includes Midol, alcohol and now a shrink.

"Mind if I lower the window?" I ask, and he shakes his head.

Edward turns on the radio, he keeps the volume low. "I overheard Bree talking to you. That's how I knew you got a flat and where you were. You didn't ask…how I knew. So, yeah. I don't have some kind of Bella GPS app or anything. It was a coincidence."

"Oh. Well, thanks." No worries, Sir Edward. Signals, or lack thereof, coming in the forms of actions or speak will for now and evermore, be blithely disregarded.

"You said that already."

"What?"

"Thanks. You said that already. There's no need."

Of course there's not. It's your job as a white knight to ride in and save the day, isn't it? "Okay. For the record, it didn't cross my mind that you might have a Bella app on your phone. That would be inappropriate. And weird." I lean toward the open window and take a deep breath. "Besides, I believe a hell of a lot more in coincidence than I do in fate, Edward." As of five minutes ago.

McDonalds, a gas station, and a strip mall with a gazillion cars in the parking lot pass by in a familiar, on every block kind of blur. I miss my parents' place. The slow pace and the easiness and the fish and the sunsets. I could breathe there.

"What does that mean?" he asks.

"Nothing. It's been a long day."

"Oh, right. Hyp—the Whitlock account. How'd that go?" he says, politely smiling.

"She was fine. Her requests have changed a bit, but…it's fine."

"That's good. Hopefully, it won't be too much of a hassle for you."

"It'll be awesome."

"Great," he says all upbeat-like. It's annoying, and bitter on my tongue. Like spoiled chocolate, if that's how spoiled chocolate would taste. I imagine it would.

The humiliation that's been festering in my stomach has morphed into anger, bordering on rage. Fuck what I'm allowed to feel or say or how I'm supposed to stay within invisible boundaries, and before I can contain it, it all spews out of my mouth like a firestorm. "What does it matter, anyway? If it is or is not a hassle? I mean, seriously Edward. Why do you care so much? Huh? Why? I'm not some twinkie or some poor abandoned soul who's incapable of handling a little hard work. Or a lawn mower. Or a flat tire! I'm a grown woman, if you weren't aware. A grown-ass-woman who can take care of herself without help from a big strong man. I got this."

Edward yanks the steering wheel to the right, slams on the breaks in the shoulder of the road. I'm thrown forward, the seatbelt cutting into my chest, then back against the seat.

"What the hell?" I shout.

"What the hell? What the fuck is your problem?"

"Don't curse at me!"

His knuckles white on the wheel, he sucks an angry breath through his nose. "You have no idea what the hell you're talking about, Bella. None."

"Please, Edward. I know you think that because I'm a single mom, because my husband left me, that for whatever reason you think it's your job to…step up."

He laughs. Incredulously.

"Oh, sorry. I suppose I misinterpreted your intentions. You're just a nice guy, right? Certainly not a man with a superhero, must save the day type syndrome, yeah?"

"You're out of line."

"Who cares!" Shit. There's no going back now. I've officially lost it. Any semblance of friendship Edward and I had will never be salvaged after this.

"Be careful," he warns.

"Fuck you," I say then look out the window.

Edward bangs his hand against the steering wheel, and I glance back at him, his entire body is rigid. "Goddammit," he says, frustrated, and jumps out of the car.

My arms are crossed over my chest, my jaw is clenched so tightly I might break a tooth, and I watch him kicking dirt, his tire, pacing back and forth. He smacks his hand against the hood of his SUV. Go ahead, Edward, be mad. You deserved every word.

He walks around to my side. "Get out of the car."

"What?" I get out. "Fine. I'll walk home."

"The hell you will," he says, grabbing my arm. "Listen to me because I'm only going to say this once: I don't think you're weak or incapable of anything. You're stronger than anyone I know. I admire you, Bella. Respect you more than you could possibly imagine. And everything I've done over the past five years has been because I wanted to, no, I needed to.

"See, I have a huge problem and it's not a superhero complex. I'm not trying to save you. Everything I've done has been just so I could be around you." Edward pauses, letting go of my arm. "I can't touch you, Bella Swan. I can't have you the way I want."

"Wh—"

"Don't."

This is bad.

I climb back into his SUV. "Take me home, Edward."

a/n: Nothing is easy. Thank you, as always, for reading.