I do not own Twilight or any of its' characters

God, I love a good Edward and Bella fight. I'm not really sure who wins this one though. Please review! Thanks again for taking the time to read. You guys are awesome.

EPOV

Chapter 42

Nineteenth Nervous Breakdown

The sun was so bright all day that it had become necessary for me to wear my sunglasses the entire time I was out of doors. Spring was coming, as spring like as you could get in Alaska. I was seeing more green and more moving water. The air wasn't as harsh; everything had a clean, pleasant, living scent to it. It was turning out to be a pretty good day, we had about a month left of school, Bella couldn't wait for it to be over. I wouldn't be surprised if she decided to change her major next year. The whole social work thing didn't seem to be doing anything positive for her. I didn't think it was her calling straight from the beginning, but she was so stubborn, she needed to find out for herself. Far be it for her to listen to anything I had to say about the matter. Oh well. She had been very quiet lately, as if she were preoccupied with something. She seemed nervous, but not unhappy; I wondered if she had been talking to Alice. I was trying not to let it bother me, but seeing her in such a state without knowing what she was thinking, as always was a very frustrating thing for me to endure.

I arrived home after Bella on Thursdays, when I pulled into the garage, it was after five o'clock. I revved the engine once and shut her down, grabbed my bag and headed inside. It didn't seem any different than any other afternoon I got home late. Bella stood in the kitchen, chopping vegetables, a vision in puma sneakers and an army green cadet hat. I wouldn't expect anything less, nor would I want anything less or more for that matter.

"Hey," she said smiling brightly at me.

"Hello love," I said hooking an arm around her waist and kissing her cheek. "Unlike yourself, I'm going to compliment you on your hat." I said flicking the bill.

"Unlike you, I actually look good in a hat." She teased.

"I look good in anything," I teased back, "especially hats."

"Can't argue with you there." She muttered staring down at the cutting board, "Except in the area of head gear." She giggled, blushing slightly.

"How long do we have until dinner?" I asked, changing the subject.

"About forty five minutes." She replied, not looking up.

"I'm going to get some studying done, that is, unless you need my help of course."

"No, that's fine; I think I'm all set here."

"You're sure?" She nodded at me and with that, I headed for the den to hopefully get some work done.

Bella was very quiet during dinner, too quiet. It was maddening not knowing what she was thinking. I didn't want to pry, so I tried to wait her out. We finished eating, did the dishes, fed the cat, and settled onto the couch, both of us with books in hand. This semester really was a killer. Maybe it just seemed that way to me because I never had to expend such an effort to maintain my concentration for so many years. I looked up at Bella, she had her knees tucked into her chest, an enormous hard cover sociology book propped against them and was frowning. Her eyebrows knit in frustration and she tapped her pen against her chin nervously. Suddenly, she let out an aggravated sigh and slammed the book shut.

I opened my mouth to speak, when she interrupted me. "Edward, there's something I need to talk to you about."

Finally, I thought to myself, I was glad she made the first move; it meant she trusted me, but I already knew that. "What is it, love?" I asked gently, shutting my book and laying it on the arm of the couch.

She looked hesitant, maybe she didn't want my full attention, perhaps she wanted to have a casual conversation. Too late now, as I sat with my hands folded patiently watching her. She tapped her chin with her pen and bit her lip, she was anxious about something. She unfolded her legs and crossed them in front of her and stared at me, searching for words.

"Bella, whatever it is, you can tell me." I pressed.

"No, I know that," she said shaking her head, "I'm just trying to find the best way to say this."

She was beginning to worry me, she stood up and began to pace around the room. She stood against the wall and wrapped her arms around her waist in a protective hug. Oh my God, was she leaving me? I swallowed hard waiting for her to speak; my heart rate sped up slightly. Dammit, why couldn't she just spit it out?

"I'm l…" No, oh please, no. "I'm late."

Late? She was late? What did that mean? Late for what? I felt my eyes dart from side to side as I tried to comprehend what she had just said. I didn't understand at first and then it occurred to me, I really was an idiot, she meant that her period was late.

"Edward!" She said in an irritated tone. "Say something." I hadn't realized that I had been silent for so long.

I glanced up to her, my mouth slightly open, all the color and levity from earlier had drained from her face. I cleared my throat nervously and rubbed the back of my neck. "Hhh, how late are you?" I stammered.

"About a week." She replied, "give or take a day, I lost track for a little while."

How irresponsible of her, a person's whose responsibility and maturity I admired couldn't even keep track of her cycle? "Don't you women keep calendars for that sort of thing?" I blurted out loudly, my voice cracking. I was on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Oh sure, it's the calendar I have hanging up in the bathroom with a giant red dot on it." She growled sarcastically, "grow up Edward women don't do that anymore!"

I stood up from the couch, slightly infuriated with her tone with me, "how am I supposed to know these things Bella? The only women I'm used to associating with don't exactly apply to this particular situation!"

"You're right," she said lowering her voice, "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." I said lowering my voice as well and sitting back down on the couch. "I just, need to think for a second." I dropped my head close to my knees and rubbed my temples. What else could possibly be thrown at us? What other stresses had fate planned out for us? The past year was one migraine after another. I was amused by the fact that I could actually relate to statements like that nowadays. I gave a bitter laugh and shook my head. A child? How could I be a parent? We should have been more careful, we should have taken the proper precautions that humans need to take when they're in a physical relationship. How foolish of me, how unforgivably arrogant of us.

Then something happened, I actually started to look on the bright side of this. Financially and lifestyle wise, we were much better off than most young parents. I could be someone's father; I'd be the best parent that I could be, what other choice did I have? And then, another feeling; joy, I actually was feeling joyful and optimistic. Granted, the timing of this left something to be desired, but it would be a nice change to bring life into this world rather than to take it away. I felt a smile spreading across my face as I pictured what our child might look like. I hoped it got most of Bella's looks, maybe my eyes, I couldn't picture anyone else having Bella's beautiful chocolate brown eyes. I hoped it would have my aptitude for learning and just a touch of the defiance she and I both shared.

I felt my smile getting wider at the thought of another person in our lives, the hope and love was starting to well up in my chest as I thought my heart would burst, and then…

"So what are we going to do about this?" Bella asked solemnly, interrupting my reverie and placing her hand on my leg.

"What do you mean?" I asked intensely locking eyes with her.

"Edward, you don't think we could seriously consider this do you?" She asked gently, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Absolutely." I affirmed quickly. "Why?" She was silent, but her expression said a thousand words. She didn't want it. She didn't want to be the mother of my child. My heart sank and broke into a million sharp, jagged pieces. I nearly choked out loud.

"I don't think I'm ready to be a parent." She said as gently as she could, but underneath her soothing demeanor was an edge to her voice that indicated to me that she had been thinking about this for days and she had made up her mind.

I should have been more sensible. I should have listened to her and spoken calmly, and told her that I would do whatever she wanted, whatever she needed, but I didn't. I instead allowed the last three hundred and sixty five days of crap and stress and anger and emotion flood into my response to this one moment. "No." I said starting off calmly, "No, you're ready."

I saw Bella's cheeks flush for a brief second and she took a deep breath, "excuse me?" she asked tersely. And here we go.

"Did I stutter?"

"No, I heard what you said; I just wanted to give you an opportunity to change your answer."

"Why would I do that?" I asked in a very patronizing voice.

"Because you're wrong." She said, her voice shaking slightly, not in fear, but in anger.

"I find that very hard to believe." I said with a smirk.

"Really?" She said standing up, crossing her arms across her chest. "I don't know who the hell you think you are Edward Cullen, but last time I checked, I was still in charge of what I did with my own body."

"Not when half of it belongs to me." I said crossly, standing up now as well.

That did it, her face turned purple and she gave me such a look of disgust and resentment that I could have turned to stone. "NOTHING OF MINE BELONGS TO YOU!" She shouted, "Not my thoughts or my emotions or my free will, you hear me? Nothing Edward! Where the hell do you get off saying something like that to me? This is the twenty first century and I'll be damned if I spend it walking around barefoot and pregnant because you're a hundred years old and are suddenly ready to be a parent."

"You know damn well what I meant Isabella! You may be carrying my child," I said pointing hard against my chest, "and you just automatically decide what's best without even talking to me about it?"

"Edward we could talk about this until the polar ice caps melt, but the fact of the matter remains that if one of us is not ready for this responsibility then it shouldn't happen."

"Why? Why are you so opposed to this? We can certainly afford it, we can stop school for awhile, we already have a house,"

"It takes more than money and a house to be a good parent," said the experienced voice from a child of divorce.

"Don't put words into my mouth." I growled, "I know that it takes a lot more than that to be a fit parent, but it makes things a whole lot easier, I don't understand why…"

"Because I'm nineteen years old!" She interrupted. "I don't want to be tied down to a baby; I'm in no position to be someone's mother at this point. I'd feel like…like white trash or something who in their right mind has a baby when they're nineteen?!" She was throwing her hands around erratically as she spoke. I wanted to grab her and stop all of the motion; I was agitated enough as it was without offensive hand gestures to add to the mix.

"My mother had me when she was nineteen." I said tightly.

"In 1901! This is 2009; I have so much more to do before I settle down like that." She spat.

"Please tell me you are not afraid to the commitment." I said angrily, making fists at my sides. What was I doing? I wanted to marry this girl, I wanted her to have my children eventually, was it really all that unreasonable to wait? No, of course it wasn't, I should have applauded her for recognizing that she didn't want to be a parent right now, there were too many unwanted children in the world as it was, I'd be damned if mine was one of them.

"No, Edward, it's not that, I just…"

"What then? What will you do? Put it up for adoption, and spend your life wondering if anyone will ever make our child their own?" I felt like I would get sick when she didn't answer me right away. For someone whose thoughts I couldn't read, I could hear her loud and clear without her having to say a word. "You're going to…kill our child?" I asked desperately, my voice cracking. She winced at my harsh words.

"Stop calling it that! It's just a fetus, it's not a child! I don't even know if I am yet." She said, her voice raising an octave. I was hurting her, making her feel guilty, I was breaking her resolve.

"I can't believe you would seriously consider this an option." My voice was trembling now; angry tears welled up in my eyes for a moment. How could she do this to me? Didn't she understand how extraordinary the circumstances were here? First, a vampire falling in love with a human and not killing them, then that vampire receiving the same love back from the human, being separated from each other, reuniting with no love lost, vampire turning into human and two humans conceiving a child together? The fact that we were even having this discussion was a miracle; at least it was to me. And now, she wanted to destroy that miracle? Stomp the life out of an innocent that was partially made by me?

"I am not ready for this Edward!" She pleaded, her voice rising into a shrill unpleasant cry.

Again I should have stopped there, but I'd had it. I had never thought it possible for me to be this angry with Bella, I was seeing red, she was being selfish, and I was going to let her know it.

"You should have thought of that before you decided have sex with me on every single solitary surface of the entire state of Alaska then." I said cruelly, staring right through her.

"What?" She whispered, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.

"Don't you remember?" I laughed bitterly. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and flipped it open. I knew exactly what I was doing; I was doing the most hurtful thing I could think to do to Isabella Swan, the only girl I had ever loved. I scrolled through the past text messages she had sent me, feeling pathetic that I had saved all of them. I cleared my throat and began to read aloud, "Edward, car, Edward, lunchroom, Edward, bathroom," I smirked at that one; we had a good time that day.

I glanced up at Bella she was shaking her head from side to side, tears were starting to roll down her cheeks, "stop it," she whispered.

"Edward," I continued more loudly, "garage, Edward, locker room, shower," my voice was continuing to rise as I scrolled through, making a mockery of the love we had for one another, I stepped toward her, shouting now, "Edward, skip class, EDWARD! EDWARD! EDWARD!"

"Stop it!" She screamed at me.

That was enough, I had gotten my point across, I threw my phone against the wall and it shattered into a hundred pieces. She cried out loud as it crashed. "Why are you doing this to me?" She whispered, staring at me with wild betrayal in her eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about; those were all of your messages." I said innocently, smiling at her.

She narrowed her eyes at me and stuck her chin out defiantly. Most women would have been cowering in a corner by now, or calling the cops or grabbing a kitchen knife if their spouse had ever behaved in such a manner toward them. Not Bella though, her face was calm, but her eyes were wild and fiery, "fuck you Edward." She spat.

I chuckled bitterly and as light as a feather, laid a hand on her face, "Bella, that's what got you into trouble in the first place." The final mockery of our love, using a gesture that we used to express such fondness and tenderness for one another, I used as another weapon to patronize her with.

She was speechless; I dropped my hand from her face and smirked darkly at her. Then, she took a step forward and with a huge amount of force that I had never believed Bella capable of, she hauled off, and slapped me across the face.

My vision was blurry for a moment, I didn't see that coming. Another advantage I would have had if I could read her mind, I could have ducked. My face burned where she hit me, I swear she drew blood; I touched the tip of my tongue to the corner of my mouth to see if she had. To my surprise, I was clean. I looked up at Bella and her face was red and tear stained, she still looked angry and appalled at what had just taken place.

"Fine," I said lowly. Without looking at her again and without any explanation, I strode out of the room and grabbed my keys. I heard her following behind me, almost jogging to keep up with my long, furious strides.

She managed to touch my forearm and say my name before I was out the door; I whipped around and stared her down, pulling my arm roughly away from her. She remained stoic, but said nothing and I walked out to the garage, slamming the door behind me, I heard something fall off the wall and shatter on the floor. Let her clean it up.

I got in my car and revved the engine and spun the tires as the garage door opened, and then shot out into the night like a bat out of Hell. No pun intended. I shoved some loud alternative CD into the stereo and just drove. I had no idea where I was going or when I would be back, I just needed to leave.

I must have left her in a quite a state, I don't think she had ever seen me act like that. She didn't understand how cruel and nasty I could be when pushed. She was used to my soft voice, and my never ending patience with most things. My anger from the adrenaline rush was starting to taper off as I thought of her at home, crying, sweeping up glass, she had probably cut herself by now and my stomach churned at the thought of not being there to bandage her arm.

For the thirtieth time in the last hour I asked myself again, how could she do this to me? What if this was our only chance to have a child? What if something happened to me in the near future? Didn't she understand that I felt like I was living on borrowed time with everything that had been going on around us? I wanted to leave a piece of myself with her somehow if I wasn't long for this world. I needed some evidence in the world that proved I was ultimately, a good person. Was she so blind that she couldn't see that? Tears welled up in my eyes and my shoulders began to shake. I had to pull over or else I was going to get myself killed.

I pulled over in an abandoned lot and rested my head against the steering wheel. I felt like I was about to have one of those anxiety attacks that I had warned Bella about. I felt like I was losing my mind. I put my hand on my cheek where she had hit me, it was still blazing hot, I think it was starting to swell slightly. She may not have drawn blood, but there would definitely be a bruise there tomorrow. I was still irate with her, irate and overwhelmed. I needed to go somewhere. If I went to a bar, I would probably get into a fight and get myself arrested, the way I was feeling right now. Going to Denali was out of the question, as was walking around in the woods, because I could very easily get killed doing that this time of night. Then I thought of the gym, it was late enough where no one would be there, I could be alone and I could get some of my pent up frustration out. I started the car up again and headed over.

When I got to the gym, it was dark, not a soul in the lot. I pulled out my student id and slid it through the entry slot. The door buzzed and popped open. I kept a locker there, so I was able to change clothes and grab my Mp3 player. I lifted weights for awhile and beat on the punching bag for what seemed like hours. Then I decided to do what I always used to do to calm my frazzled nerves; run. I climbed up on the treadmill and immediately got into it, starting my speed at around 6.5 miles per hour. The music pumped loudly into my ears, I tried to shut out everything that had happened and focus on the run and the sound of my heart thumping rhythmically and the blood rushing through my ears.

I didn't think about her, or anything she had said, or anything she had done to me. I pressed the buttons on the treadmill and was running at 8.5 miles an hour, trying to forget the sound of her voice. I shut my eyes and concentrated, but then, her voice came back to me, it was her concerned voice, and I could vividly picture the expression that matched it. I opened my eyes to remove the image and she was standing in front of me. Damn it, she found me, she must have been some kind of tracker in a past life.

"Edward, please come home." Her voice was tired, her eyes were puffy and sure enough, she had a bandage over one of her hands. So she had cut herself cleaning up the mess I left for her, I should have stayed.

"No." I said firmly. Looking away from her and up at the ceiling.

"Edward, please." She urged.

"No." I repeated.

She shot out her hand and reached for the emergency stop button on the treadmill. I caught her wrist mid reach, holding it gently, but firmly. "Don't." I said, "I'm going too fast and libel to get injured." I warned between heavy breaths.

She retracted her hand and continued to watch me, and then when I wasn't looking, she reached over and slapped the button. The treadmill immediately stopped without warning, and as promised, I tripped, twisting my ankle. I heard a sickening POP sound which was promptly followed by a shooting pain.

She gasped and covered her mouth; clearly she didn't believe me when I told her I would get hurt.

"Jesus Christ Bella! First you slap me and now you nearly break my ankle?! What the hell is the matter with you?!"

"I'm sorry." She whispered, there was something else in her voice though, amusement? Did she think this was funny?

I rolled my eyes at her, irritated, and tried to stand, letting a snarl rip from my throat as the pain continued to shoot up my leg. I literally couldn't walk, she had maimed me. She hurried over to my side and tried to act as a crutch, I squirmed away from her like a stubborn child. "Just leave me alone!" I snapped at her. I tried to step forward and almost fell; I began to limp shamefully away from my love.

Again, she hurried to my side, and when I tried to protest, she tightened her grip around me. She felt like iron as she held fast to my waist. "Just, let me help you!" She shouted at me impatiently.

I sighed angrily, and she took my arm and slid it around her neck, I submitted. She helped me over to a nearby bench and helped me into a sitting position.

"Let me see," she said unlacing my sneaker and taking it off. She squatted down in front of me and gingerly rested my sweaty foot on her knee. She rolled down my sock and lightly touched my ankle. She was crazy to think that she wouldn't be a good mother, I thought sadly as I watched her.

My ankle was already swelling up like a grapefruit and throbbing painfully. I winced as she touched it, examining it.

"I think you need to go to the emergency room. This is getting really swollen." She spoke matter of factly, as if world war three hadn't taken place in our living room two hours ago.

"Bella, please, no," I grumbled.

"Come on, we're going."

"I think you're overreacting."

"Okay then," she said placing my foot on the ground, "try and walk." She ordered.

I narrowed my eyes at her in annoyance and prepared to stand, confident that I would be able to do so easily. The moment I tried to put weight on my blasted ankle, I felt like someone was hitting it with a sledgehammer. She was right, I couldn't walk, normally. We had to go to the emergency room.

She grabbed my stuff and locked up my locker and helped me out to the car. We drove in silence the full half hour it took to get to the hospital.