Ch 17: Things We Should've Done

*BPOV*

How did I get here?

Not just here, sitting in my car in the parking garage of the apartment building that I used to share with Edward, but here, in this situation.

What the hell had I been thinking all this time? Had I really tried to convince myself that I could survive without being with him? Did I really tell him that I was choosing someone else?

I was so fucking stupid.

Choking back the sobs, I wiped my face and tried to catch my breath. It shouldn't surprise me. Edward had every right to… No, I couldn't allow my thoughts to go there. Though I knew that it might happen at some point, seeing her there—like that—was worse than if he had walked up to me and punched me in the gut.

He couldn't wait anymore, and why should he? I gave him nothing to wait for. All of this was my entire fault. But, no more. I refused to be a victim of my own devices any longer. It was time I stood on my own two feet.

It was no wonder, with my endless doubts and insecurities making a mess of things that I had ended up the way I had. Yes, my situation was incredibly unusual, but I was smarter than that. It was time I started acting like it and stopped with the hand-wringing and indecision.

So, I pointed my car in the direction that I should've taken the moment I woke up after being with James and realized we had no future together.

I went to Cullen Industries.

Carlisle's grandfather, Alistair, had started the company and, because of a later rift with his son, left it to Carlisle, despite the fact that he had "broken the mold" and became a doctor. The company expanded and went public shortly after that, though Carlisle was not involved in its direct management. After marrying Esme and starting a family, he split up his stocks, giving a sizable portion of them to his children, but remaining the majority shareholder. Not long after Edward went missing, he stopped working at the hospital so much and started taking over more and more of the responsibilities at his company.

I'd always intended on using my MBA to work at Cullen Industries along with the rest of the family. It was a great company built on strong family values, but after Gracie was born, I just couldn't leave her. Really, I could barely leave the apartment, my one remaining link to Edward. Since my daughter would never have the benefit of having both of her parents, I thought staying home and focusing on her was a better choice for both of us.

The buzz coming from the receptionist's desk sliced through the quiet atmosphere of the waiting room. "He's ready for you now, Mrs. Bremner," Gianna said brightly.

"It's just Bella," I stated, my shaky voice betraying the confidence I wanted to display.

Walking down the hall toward his office, I took a deep breath and tried to come up with exactly what I would say when I got in there. How did you ask someone to help you put your shell of a life back together?

I was at a loss until the door swung open to reveal the man who'd always been a second father to me. As he smiled and pulled me into the safety of his arms, I collapsed against him. Finally after several moments passed, I pulled back and sighed, "Hi, Carlisle."

A questioning look crossed his face as he led me to the couch on the far side of his office. "Bella, what is it? Come, sit down."

"I don't even know where to start," I said, tears streaming down my face.

He looked at me for a long moment, his eyes full of concern. "I find in most situations, the beginning is the best place to start."

So I did. I told him everything: the overwhelming feeling of shock when Edward came home, so much so that my ability to make rational decisions was paralyzed. The sense of obligation I felt to James and how much of an impact his relationship with Gracie had steered me into not following my heart. The realization that I couldn't live the lie my life had become anymore. And how, when I finally figured out what I needed to say and do to make everything right, I'd been too late.

Like he always did, Carlisle sat attentively as I poured my heart out. He waited until I was finished before reaching in his pocket and handing me his handkerchief. "Sweetheart, I want you to know that I'm always going to be here for you." He paused before continuing, hugging me to him. "Esme and I both support you without question—you know that. We love you and Gracie very much. I know that she and I have stayed out of things, and we only do it so as to not be intruding. I hope you know that."

"I know that, and it means more to me than you can understand." It actually really did. My life was in such shambles, my decisions so utterly wrong, that not having to face up to Esme and Carlisle had been a relief. I understood, now, why Alice and Rose, and even Emmett, had stayed (relatively) out of it until earlier: it had more than likely been a topic of discussion between the Cullen's.

They were letting us work things out on our own, and staying as far away from the mine field as possible. I couldn't blame them—if it weren't my own life in turmoil, I would have stayed away, too.

He seemed to deliberate for a moment. Finally, he spoke. "I'm going to be blunt here, but I don't understand what you want me to do, Bella. If you need legal representation, all you have to do is ask. Or, if you would like me to speak to Edward..."

I gasped, not wanting him to have the wrong idea. The idea of him mentioning any of this conversation to Edward made me physically ill. This was all me, and he deserved to be happy without feeling guilty about it. "No. I mean, yes. Wait." I stopped, taking a deep breath and a moment to gather my thoughts. "No, I do not want you to talk to Edward about this—any of it. I will need legal representation, but to be honest, I haven't even thought that far ahead. What I really need from you, Carlisle, is a job."

"A job? I don't understand," he asked.

Nodding my head, I explained. "Yes, the intent behind my MBA was always to work here at Cullen Industries. There's an in-house daycare, so it's a win/win for me."

Carlisle placed his hand on mine, silencing me. "Please, understand that you always have a job here, if that's what you really want. Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I was under the impression that the reason that you didn't come to work here was because you wanted to stay home with Gracie. Have you changed your mind?"

"No, I love staying home with her, but that isn't financially feasible for me any longer."

"Why is that, Bella? Are you in some sort of financial trouble?"

"No," I mumbled uneasily, "not unless you account for the fact that I have none." I hated looking like I was asking for a handout, especially from Carlisle. Working there had seemed like the best option, though. I had the degree to back it up, and being able to be close to Gracie, to see her whenever I got the smallest urge, was comforting.

His voice was laced with concern. "How can that be? I know that Edward left everything to you when he…"

Shaking my head, I stopped him from pulling our conversation into reliving that particular black point of my life. I knew I couldn't handle it. "That's all still there, but that's Gracie's money."

"No, Bella, that's your money. Some of it was set aside to be divided between any future children that the two of you might have, and you're right, that's hers. The rest of it, however, was left to you. When Edward returned, each of us bought out public stocks so he could take ownership in the company without compromising your situation in any way."

"I don't…what? Each of you…" I trailed off, still unable to understand what he was telling me. For not meddling, they certainly had done a lot behind the scenes...

"Yes, that's right. None of us—Esme, Emmett, Alice, nor I—wanted financial concerns to contribute to any decisions that you made. We didn't want you to feel like you didn't have options, if you wanted them. You retained ownership of the stocks that Edward bequeathed to you and, as a result, are not financially dependent on anyone."

"That's not—that's not right. Why would you give up your stocks for me? I understand giving them to Gracie. But to me? I'm just…"

"Just the girl who has been like our daughter for almost her entire life, as well as the mother of our only grandchild," he stated. "For the record, we didn't give up our stocks to you—we gave them to Edward. He left everything to you."

I took a deep breath, unable to wrap my mind around the logistics of everything. Carlisle, however, seemed resolved, so I decided not to press the situation. Not yet, at least.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"I have to move out. My name's on the paperwork for the house, but James pays for everything. I just don't know what to do about that. I've always had the apartment, but that's not really an option right now. I'm not sure where we can go, but I know I can come up with something."

Though he had just admitted to wanting to stay out of it, I didn't want Carlisle to feel pressured to offer his and Esme's home to Gracie and me. That would be so wrong on so many levels; and completely unfair to Edward, too. There were plenty of nice hotels in the Seattle area, and one of them would be fine until I figured out what, exactly, to do.

"Well, if you're serious about leaving, you'll obviously need a lawyer," he sighed. "You do know that you can afford a new apartment, Bella. I think that the best solution, though, is to ask Edward..."

"No!" I exclaimed. "I don't want to go back there—I can't."

He looked sympathetic as he patted my shoulder. "Actually, I think the first thing you need to do is talk to him. He's given us no indication that his relationship with Tanya was intimate."

"That was Tanya?" I gasped. I knew practically nothing about the woman who had saved Edward's life, apart from the fact that he said that they had never been intimate. Looks like things had changed.

Perplexed, he took a moment before answering me. "I think so, by your description of her. Regardless, I think you and my son need to talk." He looked at me meaningfully for a moment before clearing his throat. "If you don't want your apartment back, you're more than welcome to stay with us until you find something suitable."

"No, I can't do that, either. I don't want Edward to feel uncomfortable bringing…going over there."

Carlisle nodded before getting up and walking to his desk, where he picked up a small book and thumbed through it. Leaning over the desk, he wrote something on a small slip of paper. He brought it over to me and placed it in my hand with a sad smile. "This is the name and number of our realtor." He indicated the name and number at the top of the paper. "Demetri has a knack for tracking down the perfect property every time. And this," he gestured to the other number, "is my lawyer. He's an old friend of the family and will be incredibly discreet." He wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. "Bella, please. Please talk to him."

Tears welled in my eyes as I thanked him and left his office, headed for my former home with my almost-former husband.

x-x-x-x-x-x

As I entered the house and walked toward my room, I was thankful that I'd asked Esme to keep Gracie for the night. Though I wasn't expecting James to return from his trip before I left and checked into a hotel, I didn't want her to be around when we had the conversation that would eventually have to take place.

Making my way back into my closet, I noticed the pile of papers that littered the floor. They must have fallen when I grabbed the box earlier. As I leaned down to pick them up, I saw James' envelope. I'd meant to tell him about it, but I had all but forgotten about it. Apparently, it had opened during the fall. Now, a paper lying on top caught my eye.

As I picked it up, the air swirled around me, thick like a blanket that threatened to smother me. I sank to my knees, utterly stunned.

This can't be right. There has to be some mistake.

I couldn't stop my hands from trembling as I pulled the sheet of paper from the stack, trying to make sense of what I was looking at. I read over the words once, twice, and then again. I took a deep breath, preparing to flip the paper over to see what else it held.

James has been lying to me all along.

The paper underneath it all but confirmed it.

"Oh, god…"

Flinching back at the sound of his voice, I scrambled to my feet and held the papers up in front of me, silently willing him to explain how this could have happened, how this could be real.

"It's not…Bella, it's not what you think," he said, his voice pleading. The anguished look on his face let me know that it was indeed true. And that my entire life with him had all been a lie.

I was going to be sick.

The fact that he had kept such an important fact from me made me feel ill. If he hadn't, this entire mess might have been avoided, or at least not so dismal. It felt like the worst kind of betrayal. Things would have played out so much more differently if I had known about the information in my hand.

I had to get out of there.

Unable to speak, barely even able to breathe, I was lightheaded. As I attempted to rush past him, he reached out and grabbed my arm. His grip felt as slimy as snake skin as I tried to escape his hold on me.

"Baby, just—just listen to me for minute. I can explain…please."

My shaky voice belied the confidence I wanted to show as I looked at him, incredulous. "Explain? James—how could you even begin to explain this?" With my heart thundering in my chest, I shook my head to clear the fog that pressed down on me. "How could you do this?"

He stepped closer to me, eyes pleading and desperate as he tried to wrap his arm around me, to hold me to him. "Please."

"No. Let go of me," I asserted as I pushed back against his chest, wrenching away from the firm grip he had on me. Stumbling back, I tripped over the chair that I'd left in the middle of the floor. A sharp pain seared through my arm as I fell and tried to catch myself. I cried out, hardly able to bear the pain or hold back the tears that threatened to fall.

"What have you done?" I screamed.

All the color drained from his face. He seemed to turn to stone before my eyes as he took in my position and the way I held my arm protectively to my chest. "I didn't mean to...you know I'd never hur-"

That wasn't even what I had meant, but I didn't care. Let him think it was—he'd done more than enough to be sorry for.

Scrambling upright, I gained momentum and ran from the room, clutching the paper and my arm to my chest. I dashed into Gracie's room and quickly locked the door as I threw myself against it.

With shaking hands, I reached into my pocket for my phone and scrolled through the contact list. Finding the number, I pressed send, silently praying that it was him that picked up.

"What's up Baby B- Baby?" he answered almost immediately.

I cut him off. "I… I need your help." I begged. "Please."

"Whoa. Hold on there, where are you? Are you alright?" He sounded panicked. His voice was muffled and I heard a door close before he whispered, "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry, but I need you to come get me." My voice choked on a sob, a low whimper escaping from my mouth. My wrist, already in agony, screamed in protest as I accidentally brushed it. I was sure it was broken. Badly.

"What's wrong? Where are you?" He sounded frantic, and I could hear keys jingling in the background.

"I'm at my house," I whispered.

"Stay right there. I'm coming to get you."

I hung up and pulled the sheets of paper in front of me. There, amidst the official-looking seal and fancy lettering was Laurent's name in black and white, along with a date.

The wrong date: July 8, 2008.