So we're back. The song for this chapter is "Everything In Its Right Place" by Radiohead youtu*be/VrpGhEVyrk0.

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Chapter Seven: Regret

There was a sharp rap on my door mid-afternoon and I rose from the couch to find out who was there. Peering through the peephole, half-expecting to see Edward, but there was only Jacob.

I opened the door and he spoke. "Miss Swan?"

"Yes."

"Delivery for you. Sign here."

Signing the conformation slip, I thanked him absently and took the package into the kitchen. I opened it and gasped when I saw the flowers wrapped in green tissue. I peeled back the paper, staring at one of the small white irises and the delicate splash of soft yellow on the flower's throat. I touched it hesitantly, feeling the silky petal against my fingertip. I had a feeling the flowers were from Edward. Certainly none of the guys I'd met lately had seemed like the type. I felt a small flutter of hope that they could be from Riley, but he hadn't sent me flowers in a long time. And it wasn't my birthday, or any other silly dating anniversary Riley and I had celebrated. I stared at the flowers for a long time before I hesitantly slid the card out from the envelope with shaky hands.

Bella,

I am deeply sorry for the way this morning ended. My intention was not to hurt you. I truly believe it meant as much to you as it did to me. You lied to me, and to yourself, but your body told me something else. Last night could never be called meaningless.

I won't presume to guess why you're hurting, but it's clear that you are. I'm not asking for much, merely that you give me a chance.

Call me. Please.

-Edward Cullen

Angry, I tossed the note in the trash and lifted the flowers from the box, throwing them in as well. I didn't need Edward Cullen, his flowers, or pretty words. I needed Riley.

I dressed and went out, trying to distract myself with shopping. It didn't work. Edward's words echoed in my head over and over, a relentless litany that crowded out every other thought. Every scrap of peace I struggled so hard to hold on to had disappeared, ripped away by his note. I came home with three large bags full of expensive clothing that I couldn't even remember trying on. I tossed them on the bed and made my way back into the kitchen, trying to remember if I had eaten that morning.

"How about I make you breakfast first?" Edward's voice echoed in my mind. My shaking hands found a bottle of water and I gulped it down. "Let me take care of you."

I left the kitchen, only to see the discarded flowers and crumpled tissue in the trash. The flowers were so beautiful, and I felt a stab of shame at letting them go to waste. I pushed back the green paper and lifted them from the trash, trying to smooth the crumpled petals. But they were creased and wilted looking, their delicate white flesh marred by dark, bruise-like lines. I put them in a vase anyway, re-cutting the stems and filling the vase with water.

As the day progressed, the flowers wilted more and more, until they were limp and lifeless. I felt guilty. Not only had he treated me with a tenderness and concern I hadn't felt from anyone since Riley, he had sent me something beautiful and I had destroyed it in a fit of anger.

Why was I so angry? An attractive man desired me. Was that so terrible? Was the idea of someone possibly caring for me so abhorrent?

I spent the rest of the day mired in guilt and slept badly that night. Dreams of Riley leaving consumed me every time I closed my eyes. When I got up the next morning, I wandered listlessly around the apartment, unable to focus on anything, even work. I finally dressed in running clothes and forced myself to leave the apartment.

I began my usual route, heading up Mission Street and to the piers. It was crowded and noisy, a sharp contrast to the quiet, peaceful deserted scene I saw every morning. Families and couples filled the sidewalks; mothers chasing after wayward children, husband kissing their wives, people laughing and celebrating. I suddenly felt so alone. I saw a young couple walking hand-in-hand and—from the back, they could have been Riley and me—then a small hand crept between theirs. They smiled down at a little girl with dark curls before the father swept her up into his arms and covered her with kisses. The little girl shrieked with delight and the mother looked on fondly. I was sick with longing. That was my life they were living; the life I had so carefully planned for and worked toward. Stomach in knots, I made my way to the railing, trying to calm myself.

When my stomach finally settled, I struck out a brutal pace. I reached Pier 23 and veered left, crossing the Embarcadero and cutting through Pioneer Park. Past the park, I ran along Greenwich Street and quickly up Columbus Avenue before I hit my destination. The change in terrain was brutal and made my calves burn but I had to get away from all of the happiness behind me. When I hit Lombard, I took a deep breath and went for it.

Lombard Street was one of the most brutal hills in San Francisco, a twisted, winding route that led up a steep hill through the Russian Hill neighborhood in eight sharp turns over a quarter mile span. It was lined with hydrangeas and was one of the most famous streets in the world. I had never tried to run it before. It was a punishing route to attempt at even a walk, but the insanely steep hill was taunting me. I was exhausted after the nearly two miles I had already done on the winding hills of San Francisco, but I wouldn't let this defeat me. It was as if this hill was a reflection of my life. All those couples down at the pier had gotten their happily ever after and all I got were obstacles. This was one that I wouldn't let stand in my way.

Taking a deep breath, I started up the first series of one-inch rising steps. The people along the path must have sensed my inner determination because as I made my climb they politely stepped out of my way. Each section of steps I took, I pushed harder and harder, struggling to maintain my breath. By the time I made it to the final steps, my body was screaming at me that it was too much.

I was panting and exhausted by the time I reached the top. Cramps had formed in my calves and thighs and I desperately wanted to collapse on the sidewalk below me, but I forced myself to turn at Hyde Street and slowly jog toward home. My lungs struggled to draw in enough air and even as I neared my building and slowed to a walk, I could still feel my heart thundering within my chest.

My shaky legs carried me in the door and up the elevator to my apartment. I finally gave in to the exhaustion, collapsing on the floor in my living room with a relieved groan. Some minutes later, I peeled myself up off the floor and staggered into the bathroom to shower and change.

I spent the rest of the day immersed in work, and it wasn't until I went to bed that night, sore and achy, that I realized why I had attempted that route. Running had cleared my mind and turned my focus onto my muscles and my need to conquer the hill, but it hadn't entirely wiped Edward from my thoughts.

Monday I did my best to get back into the normal rhythm of my life, but I was tired. Every time I tried to focus on my clients, my mind would zone out and I had to ask them to repeat themselves. By mid-morning, I was a wreck and when Charlie popped his head in the door of my office at lunchtime, he looked concerned.

"Are you all right, Bella? I thought I told you to get some rest this weekend."

"You did, and I tried. I just had a rough weekend."

"Did you stay in?"

"Not exactly. I went out for a bit Friday night and that was pretty good," I explained. "Pretty good? As if the night with Edward had just been mediocre." But I was hardly about to tell my father that I'd met a guy who had fucked me senseless. My father and I were close, but not that close.

"That's good."

"I went shopping Saturday and on Sunday I went for a run down by the piers and tackled Lombard Street."

Charlie eyed me disapprovingly. "It's a miracle you survived," he said dryly.

I smiled at him. "I am feeling it today, that's for sure. Maybe that's why I didn't sleep well, my muscles were pretty achy. Even my usual morning runs didn't really prepare me for that."

"I hope that's all. I am worried about you."

"I know."

"I'd like to take you to lunch today."

"Sure. Are you ready to leave now?"

"Yes."

Charlie led the way downstairs to where Eli was waiting in the town car. Eleazar Denali had been my father's driver for many years before I was born. He had begun as a young man, just a few years older than Charlie himself. They were more friends than employer and employee. Charlie greeted him with a hearty handshake as if he hadn't seen Eleazar earlier in the day when he drove Charlie to the office. Instead of a handshake, Eleazar greeted me with a hug and I returned it enthusiastically. He had taken care of me, ferrying me to and from school when I was growing up.

Eli took Charlie and me to Spruce, one of our favorite restaurants, and we settled in to our usual table. The decor was simple, but very chic. The high ceilings with skylights let the light pour in and kept the dark walls and tan leather seats from looking too heavy and somber. The decor was minimal except for the candle holders, which were rough chunks of natural faceted quartz that had tea lights nestled inside.

Spruce was located just outside the golf course at Presidio Park and I couldn't resist teasing Charlie about that.

"Are you planning to stay and golf after lunch?" I asked him.

"Yes. It's a tough life, isn't it?" Charlie joked.

I smiled at him. "Absolutely. I don't know how you manage."

Charlie sighed and looked away from me for a moment before taking a sip of his Drambuie. "I am worried about how you're managing. Bella, you've lost weight, you look exhausted all of the time. Although your work has been outstanding for the most part lately, you're working too many hours. You don't have to push yourself so hard. You're a brilliant lawyer; I don't want to see you burn out."

I swallowed hard and looked down, fidgeting with the napkin in my lap. "I know. I just get so wrapped up in the work sometimes that I don't realize I'm not eating and not getting enough sleep."

"Maybe you should cut back. Have you thought about turning some of it over to Patrick and Alyssa? They're very good lawyers, and even though Alec isn't a civil lawyer there's no reason he couldn't oversee them, if you needed a break."

"There is no way in hell I am giving my clients to Alec," I said sharply.

"I know you two have never been particularly close, but I can't stand to see you carry on this way."

Thankfully, the waitress interrupted us and I took that time to think while I placed my order. When she was gone, he shot me a look encouraging us me to continue our conversation.

I frowned, not knowing how to put what I felt about Alec into words. I didn't want to accuse Alec of anything without solid proof, and it wasn't the only reason why I was so run down. Choosing my words carefully, I said, "I worry about Alec's dedication and his work ethic." I simply left it at that, took a sip of my wine, and waited for his reaction.

Charlie sighed and drummed his fingers on the table. "He does seem to enjoy the perks without putting in the time we'd like. I know Aro is somewhat disappointed. Are there specific concerns you have about him?"

"I just don't feel comfortable turning over my clients to him. I want to see their cases through."

"All right. But please consider declining the next case that comes in. There are plenty of lawyers in the office who would be happy to take it. You need a break."

The rest of lunch passed by more easily after we wrapped up the conversation about my life. We discussed my cases, various things Charlie was working on and, as we ate, the mood lightened.

I filled the rest of the week with work and before I knew it, it was Friday night again. Vanessa was out of town; her grandmother in Maryland was ill and she had flown out to visit her for the weekend. I didn't really feel like going to the clubs alone, so instead I made my way to Leah's bar.

Leah scowled and made no move to come over to me when I sat down at the bar.

"Any chance I could get some service over here?" I finally asked.

"You're no longer welcome here," Leah sneered.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, you're—"

"I heard what you said," I interrupted her. "Did I miss something?"

"Maybe the fact that you screwed over my oldest friend?"

"What? This is about Edward?"

"Of course it is. Look, I don't care what you do with your life, but you don't get to treat him like that. He doesn't deserve it."

"You're the one who sent him home with me."

"I thought he was smarter than that."

I recoiled, the insult stung more than I would have expected. "He's an adult. I am sure he'll get over it."

"Well, he isn't getting over it. Whatever happened between you two meant something to him."

"For God's sake, it was a one night stand. Why is that so hard to understand? It didn't mean anything to me and it shouldn't have to him either," I lied.

"You're a good liar, Bella. But you can only lie to yourself for so long."

Her words hit home and I decided I had overstayed my welcome. I grabbed my things, turned on my heel and left without another word.

Not wanting to go home and spend the night alone with my thoughts, I hailed a cab and directed the driver to take me to the Fifth Floor Restaurant. It was located inside of the Hotel Palomar, which were only a few blocks from my apartment. It was an elegant place that I frequently visited. It was nearing the end of the dinner hour and the restaurant was mostly empty.

The hostess greeted me with a smile. "Are you here for a drink in the lounge or to dine?"

"To dine, please."

"How many?" she asked.

"One."

She led me to a small table and cleared the place setting across from me. I ordered a glass of Chablis and perused the menu. It didn't take me long to make a choice and there was an attentive waiter on hand immediately. "There were some advantages of eating alone," I thought, "you didn't have to wait while your dinner companion hemmed and hawed over what to order."

I ordered a decent-sized dinner as my appetite had improved a little lately and I was looking forward to the cuisine. I sipped my wine while I waited for my meal and looked around the dining room. Its decor was simple with hardwood floors and walls painted a soft brown. There were minimal decorations beyond the black metal sconces on the wall, a few paintings, and some interesting red light fixtures hanging from the ceiling.

As I looked around, my eyes met those of an attractive, well-dressed man with short, sandy blond hair. He had a strong jaw, a decent tan, and deep blue eyes. He was dining with an older gentleman and glanced my way every so often.

The waiter brought my soup and I took my time to enjoy it. I missed dinners with Riley but sometimes I enjoyed the solitary meals. They allowed me to eat at my own pace and not worry about making conversation.

Before my entree arrived, I found myself trading glances with the blond man and realized it was lightening my evening. By the time I had finished my meal, I was pleasantly relaxed and had managed to put my disagreement with Leah aside.

"Would you like dessert, ma'am?" the waiter asked.

"No, thank you. Just a coffee, please."

"Of course," the waiter said and excused himself.

"Excuse me," I heard from behind me. Turning toward the voice, I saw the man who had been eyeing me earlier. His dining companion was gone and he was looking at me with a hopeful expression.

"Yes?"

"I couldn't help but notice you here, and maybe it's a bit presumptuous, but I'd like to give you my business card. Maybe call me sometime if you'd like to go out."

"Are you leaving? I mean, if you don't have other plans, you could stay and have coffee with me for a few minutes," I offered.

"I'd like that." He took a seat across from me and held out his hand. "I'm James Martin."

"Bella Swan."

It turned out, James was a lawyer as well, so we easily fell into conversation about the law and the firms we worked at. He was junior partner at a firm across the city well known for high-profile criminal cases. After spending most of the evening talking, James and I finally left the restaurant as they were shutting the place down.

"I'd really like to hear from you," he said, helping me put on my coat. I thought about his comment and about my resolution to end the one-night stands. The night with Edward and the following morning had been a complete disaster, and I needed to move past it. James seemed to be a nice guy; maybe doing something other than hooking up in a bar and then having meaningless sex was exactly what I needed to do.

"I'll give you a call," I promised, and left the restaurant.

When the cab arrived outside the Millennium Towers, I got out and went into the lobby. Jacob was behind his desk reading the newspaper when I walked inside. He eyed me and a pleased smile graced his face. I knew Jacob was only looking out for me, but his opinion on my social life now that Riley was permanently gone was beginning to wear on my nerves. When Riley left, he'd asked Jacob to watch out for me now that he no longer could. I would have rolled my eyes at how paternalistic it was, but I knew it was just because he cared. We might not have been together any more, but it didn't mean Riley wasn't still concerned about my well-being. Of course, Jacob took it to an extreme, and I was getting fed up with his judgmental attitude. He meant well, but he was becoming a nosy old man.

"Nice to see you home so early, Miss Swan," Jacob said. "And alone."

"Good night, Jacob," I muttered through my teeth, irritated by his never-ceasing need to comment on my private life.

His voice softened slightly. "Good night." I felt his eyes on me all the way to the elevators.

Author End Notes: Lombard street yeah? Because I love architectural history so much, here is a little 411. If you aren't familiar with San Francisco, this is one of the most famous streets in the world. Most people only think of the steep switchback section between Hyde and Leavenworth Streets, but it actually runs from Presidio Park to Embarcadero along the bay. The famous one-way section on Russian Hill is a steep ¼-mile, consisting of eight hairpin turns, paved in red bricks, lined with approximately 250 steps on each side. While the bricks are beautiful, they also serve a purpose. The road was designed and constructed in 1922, by property owner, Carl Henry. The bricks were installed to provide better traction going up and down the steep grade. At a natural slope of over 27%, the extreme switchbacks accommodate easier passage. The maximum grade a person feels comfortable climbing is under 16%, so even walking the steps is quite a workout. Lombard Street is truly a beautiful attraction in San Francisco. i46*tinypic*com/348onwi*jpg

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