Author's Note: I own nothing. I just like to play with the characters that were created by Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

Also, thank you for those of who have commented and offered well-wishes in my difficult time. It means a lot to me. Writing these stories has been my strength (as silly as that sounds) and has grounded me.

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. It means so much to me. More than you can imagine. These stories (this one in particular) are my babies and I adore the reviews and comments I receive. Much, much love to ALL of you!

Chapter 17: The Talk

EPOV

I was worried about Bella. Her reaction was too strong upon entering her condo. My first instinct as a doctor was to calm her down. But a stronger instinct as her boyfriend was to get her the fuck out of there. Not that she would have left. Damn stubborn woman.

I was also concerned about her lashing out at me. What she had gone through with her ex-husband was horrific and terrifying. I get that. Really I do, but I had a strange inclination that she was comparing what he did to what I was doing. It was pissing me off. I want nothing more than for Bella to be happy. I see glimpses of it, but there's an insecure, scared woman there who is afraid of letting me in. I had to get in. She says she loves me, but I see the doubt in her eyes. Fuck. Lord knows I love her. So much.

More than Tanya. If that is even possible.

After our argument in her bedroom, I changed into a pair of scrubs and worked with Bella to finish cleaning her kitchen. We scoured and scrubbed every inch of that place. Bella then handed me a measuring tape. I arched a brow and she pointed to the cabinet door where there was a Bella-sized shape in the wood. We measured the door so Bella could replace it. I could see her hands shake when she wrote down the measurements as I read them off. I covered her hands with mine, gently taking the pen from tiny fingers. "You're not ready to be here. Baby, even with the Xanax, you're a nervous wreck," I whispered.

"I can't just stay with you, Edward. I have my mortgage and I can't afford to stay at both places," she said, running a trembling hand through her hair.

"What can I do to convince you otherwise?" I asked. "Make a pros/cons list?"

Her brows shot up and she drew her lip into her teeth. Fuck. I love it when she does that. Makes me hard. Behave, you perv!

I picked up the pad of paper with the measurements and the pen. I grabbed her hand and dragged her into the family room, plopping her on the sofa. I flipped the paper to a new page and put the pen in my hand. Bella chuckled.

"What?"

"I can't believe you're doing this, Edward," she giggled. "And random thought, I didn't realize you're left handed."

"Yeah, definitely random," I laughed. "Okay, let's start with pros."

"Hmmm, you get me out of your hair," she teased.

"Isabella!" I snapped. "I enjoy having you at my house. It's not as lonely. Be serious."

"Fine," she huffed. She rolled her doe eyes and tapped her lips.

"Having a hard time trying to figure out positives, Bella?"I chided.

"Shut it, Dr. Masen," she said with a sardonic grin.

Fuck, I love when she calls me that.

Must tame the monster. Down boy.

"Mail," she blurted.

"Mail?"

"Yes, my mail is delivered here," she said triumphantly, pointing to pad of paper in my lap. I picked up my pen and scrawled mail on the pros side.

I arched a brow. "That's one."

"It's closer to school," she said. "Rosalie's down the hall. Um, my clothes are here."

I jotted down her ideas making mental notes that they were weak arguments. Extremely weak arguments. She was shooting for anything. Her brows furrowed and she nibbled on her finger. "Struggling? We can move to the cons," I suggested. She nodded.

"Okay, so cons for staying," I said as I wrote it down on the paper.

"I'm afraid to be alone," she whispered.

Ah ha! We're getting somewhere!

"Alone as in by yourself or alone as in fearful of someone hurting you?" I pressed. I tried to rely on my psych rotation from medical school to get her to open up and tell the truth.

"Both," she said, fumbling with her jeans.

"Who are you afraid of that's going to hurt you?" I asked, putting the paper down.

"Mike," she said.

"That's not all, is it?"

Her eyes shut and she bit her lip, hard. I winced at the action. "Bella? What are you afraid of?"

"You," she sighed.

Bingo…shit.

"Why are you afraid of me?" I whispered, cupping her chin, forcing her to look into my eyes.

"You'll leave me too. I can't get too attached," she said, pulling her chin away.

"Why do you think I'll leave?"

"Shit, look at you, Edward. You're Adonis in the flesh," she snorted. "You can have any woman in the world."

"But, I want you," I answered honestly. "Bella, I've been on dates since Tanya's death. Friends setting me up with their single girlfriends. They were nice, but they weren't you. I feel this connection with you that I've never felt with anyone before. Even Tanya. But there is more to what you're saying besides my appearance."

"I'm afraid that I'm not good enough. That I'm tainted. Not worthy of your love," she sniffled.

"Why do you feel like that? You're not tainted," I said.

"Yes, I am. I couldn't keep my first husband. How can I get another one? Do I want another one?" she said as she paced around her living room.

"Bella, your first husband was a fucking moron who couldn't keep it in his pants. Now that he sees you finally happy, he wants you back. Obviously, he's going through the wrong channels to get you back, but that's his thinking," I said, watching her pace.

"What can I do?" she whispered as she stood by the patio door. "I'm so fucking lost."

"The first thing you need to ask yourself is what is good for Bella?" I said. "If it's not good for you, then you need to take a step back. Us, for example."

"Us," she sighed.

"Is our relationship helping you or hindering you?" I asked, afraid of the answer. I knew that she would say helping, but in all actuality it was probably hindering her. "If my presence is hindering you, I will back off. Bella, I'm determined to keep you in my life. If I need to walk away so you can focus on you, I will."

"Edward, you're the one thing in my life that is positive," she said, looking at me. "You've been so supportive and loving and I can't even describe it."

"But you doubt me. You doubt us. I think a lot of that is stemmed from your insecurities with Mike," I said.

"What should I do?"

"Have you considered counseling?" I asked. "When I lost Tanya, I was so fucking hesitant to do it, but in the long run it was the best god damned decision I made in my life."

"I met with a counselor a few times but we didn't 'click,'" she replied.

"Mind if I ask who?"

"Um, Cynthia something," she floundered. She walked to her purse and dug through her wallet. "Peterman. Cynthia Peterman."

"She's a clown," I laughed. "Not the sharpest tool in the shed. That and her specialty are children with behavioral disorders. Not grief counseling."

"Grief counseling?"

"You experienced a loss. The loss of your marriage. It's normal to have grief over that loss," I said as I cocked my head.

"I'm not sorry that my marriage is over. I'm sorry that he can't get a fucking clue!" Bella ranted. "He is cold and distant. Always been that way. I thought it would change, but it didn't. When I finally get to my breaking point, he tells me he cheated on me with a co-worker. We go our separate ways. He proposes to his whore who is pregnant with his child and he flies off the deep end. I mean what the fuck?"

"Bella, your ex-husband is an asshat. I mean seriously disturbed and stupid. He obviously fucked with your mind without you even knowing it. I think that you need to talk to someone," I encouraged.

"But, I'm comfortable talking with you," she said petulantly.

"It's like the ER. I can't be your doctor. I'm too emotionally vested. I'm also not all that great with the psychiatry crap," I said with a wave of the hand.

"You did pretty well right now," Bella mumbled.

"That's about the extent of my expertise. I know my limitations. The rest is compassion," I offered. "And love."

"I don't want to go back to Cynthia Peterman."

"So, don't. Michele Fillman is an excellent therapist. I think you'd like her," I said with a reluctant grin. "She's smart, sassy and completely irreverent."

"Give me her number," Bella relented.

I smiled and got up from the couch. I flipped through my contacts on my phone and rattled off the number. Bella wrote it down on the paper on the couch. "I'm going to program it into my phone," she smiled.

"That might be a problem," I said with a grimace.

"Why?"

"When I was cleaning up by the baseboards, I found this," I said as I held out her ruined iPhone. Her eyes dazed and she started shaking uncontrollably. "Bella?"

Fat tears fell down her cheeks and she fell into herself. She's having a flashback, idiot. I knelt before her and took her hands into mine. "Listen to my voice, Bella. You're safe. No one will hurt you," I said soothingly. She whimpered in reply. "I love you, my beautiful girl. I'll do everything in my power to ensure your safety. Please come back to me."

Her breath was coming in short pants. I felt her pulse at her wrist and it was racing. "Deep breaths, Bella," I whispered. Her breathing got more erratic and she moaned, rubbing her chest. I pulled her onto the floor with me, her back to my chest. "Breathe with me, Bella. Please," I begged. I surrounded her in a warm embrace, breathing slowly and deeply. She resisted at first. I held her close, cooing in her ear. Pleading with her to calm down. Her body slowly relaxed against mine as her breathing normalized. I surreptitiously checked her pulse and it was slowing to a more normal rate. We sat on the floor, with Bella huddled between my legs for awhile. "You can't stay here," I whispered.

"I know," she said in a broken voice. "I have nowhere else to go."

"Yes, you do, Bella. You can stay with me," I replied. "If you want to stay in the guest bedroom, that's fine. I won't take offense."

"I can't stay with you forever, Edward," she muttered.

If I had my way, you would. With a ring on your finger. "I know, baby. But being here is not good for your mental health," I said, kissing her neck. "You had a strong reaction with the locksmith and another with your phone. You are displaying symptoms of PTSD."

"PTSD?" she asked, turning in my arms.

"Post traumatic stress disorder. I had it when I lost Tanya. Remember when I said I couldn't go into the trauma room where she died?" I asked. Bella nodded. "That was a trigger for me. Flashbacks, nightmares, night terrors."

"How do you get over it?"

"Through therapy and if that doesn't work, medication. A mood stabilizer and anti-anxiety medication," I answered.

"Did you take medication?" Bella questioned.

"Anxiety meds. Not the mood stabilizer. I tried it for a few weeks but it kicked my ass. I got off of it really quickly," I replied, wrinkling my nose. "I was ativan. It's a bit stronger than xanax. But then again, I'm a bit bigger than you."

Bella scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You're like a whole head and a half taller than me, Edward. I'm a midget compared to you."

"But you're my midget," I smiled. "Do you want to head back to my house?"

"By way of the cell phone store," she muttered as she held up her broken phone. I plucked the phone out of her hand and put it into my pocket of my scrub top. "I'll pack my bags." She got up and walked to her bedroom. Her posture was still defeated. I was so frustrated. I didn't know how to fix this.

You can only lead a horse to water…

Bella was puttering in her room and I went out on her balcony. I called Alice. "Hello, baby brother!"

"Hey, Elf," I smiled. "How are you doing?"

"I'm good. Tired as fuck. This week was killer. The kids were torn up about Taylor and the staff was on edge. How are you?"

"Overwhelmed," I sighed.

"That's not good. I got the sigh," she giggled. "Is it Bella?"

"I'm worried about her, Alice. We came to her condo today and she flipped out. I mean lost her shit," I said, running my hands through my hair. "Twice."

"Damn," she mused. "Is she okay now? Is she staying there?"

"I don't think she's okay. And no, she's coming back to my house. She was trembling and terrified when we came in this afternoon," I answered. "Then she had some pretty strong and profound flashbacks."

"Fucking Mike. I hate him," Alice seethed.

"Was he like this when they were married?"

"Physically violent? No. Emotionally cruel? Yes."

"What?" I growled. "Explain, Mary Alice."

"He would put her down constantly. Belittle her in front of her friends. When we went over to their home, he treated her like a servant, not a wife. He showed no love to her. No affection. I never said anything as it wasn't my place, but you could see the pain in Bella's eyes when he was with her. It got worse as the years progressed. She gained weight and he would fucking torture her about being a fat ass. Edward, she gained weight because she had ankle surgeries and serious ankle injuries. She can't do much in the form of exercise."

"Anything else? I'm so ready to string this fucker up by his balls," I sneered.

"No. Just the constant belittling and relentless teasing. However, there could be more. You'd have to ask Bella," Alice said quietly. "Edward, you're good for her. She might not realize it now, but I've seen my old friend since you've come into her life. She used to be a shell of her usual vibrant self. Then she married Mike and all that changed. She became shy and withdrawn. She's also brought back my brother. I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too, Elf," I smiled into the phone.

"Tell Bella that we're going shopping tomorrow. We need to get her some clothes that fit," Alice demanded.

"Alice, she said that she's strapped for cash," I explained.

"So? Give her your credit card," Alice said simply.

"She won't accept it. She borrowed it to sign up for her practicum but she's insisting that she pay me back," I grumbled.

"She knows how much you're worth? Right?

"She knows I have money. Not the exact amount though," I said as I nibbled on my thumbnail. "She knows I own the house I live in. No mortgage."

"Edward, your parents saved and scrimped and invested wisely. She should know your worth," Alice said.

"Alice, it's not about the damn money. Hell, if I lived under a fucking rock, I'd be happy if Bella was with me," I said fervently. "She doesn't need to know. Not yet."

"Okay, Edward," she relented. "But, I'm still taking your girlfriend out shopping. I'll buy her clothes. She's drowning in the ones she's wearing. Except for the suit she wore to the funeral. She looked hot in the suit. But then again, I bought it for her in the right size."

"Alice, you're rambling," I snorted.

"What? She lost fifty some odd pounds and she's still wearing the same clothes she wore when she was heavier," Alice wailed.

"Alice, let it be," I griped. "Jesus! Not everyone is into fashion like you."

"You are," Alice teased.

"That's because I like to look nice. I'm metrosexual, Elf."

"Whatever, fashion boy," Alice teased. "I'll talk to you later. Love you."

"Love you, too."

I hung up my phone, sliding it into my pocket. I went back inside to find Bella balancing two duffel bags. "Shit, Bella. Let me get those," I said as I jogged over to her. "Do you need anything else?"

"I have a garment bag with some of my work clothes," she said sheepishly. "Your dress pants and shirt are in that bag. I'm sorry. I feel like I'm moving in."

"Well, you know my opinion of that," I smirked.

"It's only temporary, Edward. I have to not have a fucking panic attack when I walk through the door," she grumbled. "One week. Two tops."

"Fine," I said as balanced her bags on my shoulder. I went into her bedroom and slipped the garment bag over my arm and picked up her new keys. I walked back out into the foyer and Bella had thrown my bag over her shoulder. She gave me a small smirk. She dangled her keys with her fingers. "Are you okay to drive?"

"I'll be fine. You look like a pack mule," she giggled.

"Shut it, Swan," I said narrowing my eyes. "Let's go." We descended the stairs and loaded up her car.

She drove to the cell phone store and followed. She walked into the store, wary of their reaction to her broken phone. Bella asked to speak to the manager and she explained her situation. He bristled and said that she would need to purchase a new phone at full cost. She calmly reasoned with him that she purchased the extended warranty. He checked the computer and discovered she was right. He gave her a new phone, 'under duress.' She said that if his attitude didn't improve, she would contact his boss. Talk about a 180. You would have thought that she shit diamonds the way he fawned over her. That's my girl.

We drove back to my place and I cooked us a quiet dinner. Bella didn't eat much and she said she was tired. She went up the stairs, dragging her feet. I heard her putter in my bedroom and then silence. I grabbed my laptop from my office and sent off a quick email to Michele about Bella. I also did some research about her ex-husband. She said that she was with him for nearly eight years, but they met in college. I did a Google search of her asshat ex-husband and found some information. I accessed his Facebook page and saw he was still listed as 'engaged' to Jessica Stanley. That surprised me. I looked back at the articles that I found and sifted through them. There was one that caught my eye. It was in 2001. 'Michael Newton' was arrested for domestic battery in Nottingbrook. I checked his age and it appeared to be him. There was no picture. I checked the information on his victim, logging into the hospital's database. She would have been brought to Craven. On the date that was mentioned, two possible domestic battery cases were brought into the ER. I searched those names. One of the women had moved or so it appeared. But another woman, Charlotte Mitchell, had died. Had died by blunt force trauma due to extreme physical contact. She was beaten to death. Her killer was never found.

She looked exactly like Bella.

Holy Shit.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the glimpse into Edward's head. So, did Mike kill Charlotte? Is Edward being too much like Nancy Drew? Am I being too predictable? Leave me love (or hate) ;-)