A/N I just want to clarify one tiny detail first. If Bella sometimes seems focused on Edward's wealth it's not because she's after his money, but because she feels so inferior to him.

Also, I want to thank everyone who has pimped this story in the last week. Thank you so much! You don't know what it means to me.

And last, but not least, I want to thank my lovely beta, Nikki. I really don't know what I would do without her.

Chapter 9

Edward Pov

~ December 16th, 2011~

~~ 0 ~~

~~ 0 ~~

~~ 0 ~~

"We'll get over this," I said, taking the whiskey glass to my lips and downing the entire content. "Eventually."

Tanya shook her head, her voice trembling as she continued chopping vegetables furiously. "How are we going to do that, Edward?" she asked, not raising her eyes to look at me. "We both know how much you wanted to be a father. God, I don't even want to imagine what your parents are going to think. Your mother…"

"I don't give a fuck about what my mother thinks," I snapped incensed, slamming the glass on the table and making her jump startled. "It's our life and she has no say in it."

There was a long, somber pause in which only the sound of the sharp knife hitting the chopping board could be heard. "This is going to break us," she spoke again, her voice disconsolate. "I know it."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair roughly. "We can always adopt…"

"It wouldn't be the same," she protested, dropping the knife on the kitchen island and looking at me with watery eyes. "I've failed you. I can't even call myself a woman anymore."

Her words hit me harder than she could have ever known. It hurt me that her inability to fulfill my ardent desire to have children was tormenting her like that. I rose to me feet and rushed to her side, enveloping her in my arms. "Hey," I murmured, kissing her forehead comfortingly. "Don't talk like that. I'll always love you, no matter what. We'll adopt and that's that."

"I'm sorry," she sobbed; the sound tearing through my heart like a hot dagger. " I'm so sorry."

"Yana…" I said softly, using the nickname she used to love so much because it reminded her of her grandmother. "We're going to be okay. I promise you."

"Ya lyublyu tebya," she replied in Russian, like she always did when she wanted to accentuate how much she loved me. "Promise me you'll never leave me."

"I'll never leave you," I promised solemnly. "I swear it."

Little did she know that in the end she'd be the one leaving me.

I woke up sweaty and disoriented, my heart beating erratically in my chest. I sat up in bed and glanced around. I realized I was in my bedroom and I had just had a dream. I fumbled with my hand on the nightstand for my phone and checked the time.

Two-fifty a.m.

With a heavy sigh, I threw the comforter to the side and got out of bed, heading straight to the floor-to-ceiling window. Crossing my arms over my chest, I took in the quiet city in front of me.

It wasn't unusual for me to dream about Tanya; she was always at the back of my mind. What I found strange was the veracity of the dream. It was the exact same scene that had happened almost three years prior when we found out she couldn't get pregnant. That decisive day when fate, ruthless captain, changed the smooth, uneventful course of our lives to sail paths full of violent storms that would mark us forever. Everything after that went downhill. The communication between us became nonexistent; slowly but surely we broke ties with most our married friends; we distanced ourselves from our families; in time, even our intimacy was affected.

For a long time, even after Tanya's death, I stubbornly stuck to the idea that eventually we could have fixed our severely damaged marriage.

Now I knew better.

We were damaged beyond repair.

~~ 0 ~~

I was distracted by the sudden shrill of my phone. Frowning and quite displeased by the interruption, I put down the document I was reading and glanced at the screen to see my brother's name flashing furiously and demanding for attention.

With a sigh, I took off my glasses and brought the phone to my ear, taking the call.

"Yes, Jasper?"

"Hey, bro," he said, his voice breathless, and I knew he had probably just finished his daily morning jog. "How's it going?"

"I'm at work," I replied, not really in the mod for chatting. "Did you want something?"

"Emmett and I are going out tonight. You wanna come along?"

There was a knock on the door, and a moment later, Victoria's head peeked from behind it. She waved the blue file she was holding, and in return I held out my left hand. She stepped inside and approached my desk, handing me the file.

"Well, if you're going clubbing don't count on me," I replied in the receiver, and I saw Victoria smirk at me.

She was wearing her usual too short skirt and a blouse with revealing cleavage. I gave her the once over, making a point to narrow my eyes when they met hers. Her smirk morphed into an innocent smile as she shrugged one shoulder, turned around and hurried out of my office.

I shook my head at her departing form disapprovingly.

"No, no clubbing tonight," Jasper answered with a low snicker. "Emmett's too old for that. We're just going to have a few drinks and maybe play some pool."

"Pool sounds… interesting," I said, opening the file and leaning back into my chair. "I haven't played in a while."

"So, you're in?" He was clearly pleased.

"Yes, I'm in," I said distractedly, my eyes pouring through the pages. "Is it going to be just the three of us, or are the girls coming, also?" I was referring to his long-time girlfriend Alice and Emmett's wife Rosalie.

"No, just the three of us. It's guys' night out."

I nodded to myself. "Alright. Where should I meet you?"

"I'll pick you up. Be ready by eight."

~~ 0 ~~

Later that day, I was still in my office when my cell phone rang for the second time. Thinking it was Jasper again, calling to change the hour, I ignored it, making a mental note to call him back in the afternoon. A minute later, it stopped ringing, allowing me to concentrate better on what I was doing.

Sometime later, my father came to ask me to have lunch with him and an important client. We went to a nearby restaurant, and by the time I made it back three hours had passed.

I was about to get back to work, when I remembered I hadn't returned Jasper's call. Reaching into my suit's pocket, I pulled out my phone and was surprised to see a missed call from Isabella instead of my brother.

I found myself smiling widely as I started pushing buttons eagerly.

I hadn't seen her since last weekend when she joined Jess and me for homemade pizza, but we had talked on the phone everyday. Usually, we spoke in the evenings, but today it seemed she had something to tell me that couldn't wait until after work.

She answered on the second ring.

"Isabella," I uttered, my voice warm and with a hint of seduction.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Cullen," she replied playfully.

I chuckled. "To what do I owe the pleasure of a missed call, Ms. Swan?"

"Well, tonight's the premiere of a movie I've be waiting to see for a long time, and I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me? I promise it's not a chick flick."

"I love chick flicks," I said teasingly, letting out a short laugh. "Unfortunately, I already made plans with my brothers…" I trailed off, and when she didn't reply immediately, I rushed to add, "…but, I can cancel."

"Oh. No, no," she said quickly, but I could tell she was disappointed. "If you already made plans…"

"I don't mind canceling them for you," I said truthfully, preferring to spend time with her instead with my brothers.

"No, it's okay," she assured me. "Can I ask what those plans involve?"

"I'm not sure. Jasper mentioned something about playing pool."

"Sounds like fun."

"Yeah…" I sighed, wishing she'd insisted I go with her instead. "We can go to the movies tomorrow if you'd like."

"Okay." The smile in her voice was audible. "I'd like that."

"I'll call you tomorrow then."

We hung up, and I turned in my chair to glance out the window, suddenly not in the mood for work anymore.

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

~~ 0 ~~

The bar was packed, much like every other social gathering place in Chicago on a Friday night.

The décor was very modern, almost cubist, reminiscing of the great, highly influential visual art styles of the early twentieth century. The walls, the tile floor, the ceiling, the long bar, the tall stools, the low round tables, the plush chairs; everything was an immaculate white, carefully balanced by the neon purple of the spotlights implanted in the ceiling and the light blue of the pool tables.

The walls were adorned by framed pictures imitating masterpieces by Picasso, the father of the two-dimensionality of the canvas. I recognized Guernica, Blue Nude, Three musicians and Card Player among others just as important.

In other words, it was a great place to have a few overpriced drinks, listen to decent music and spend a pleasant evening in good company.

I took a sip of my Guinness and placed the bottle on our nearby table, turning my attention back to the pool game. Surveying the scattered balls attentively, I finally settled on number nine. Leaning over the table, I held the cue stick with my right hand, guiding it with my left one. I focused on the targeted ball, drew my hand back and shot forcefully, missing the hole by half an inch.

Emmett, who up until that moment had been quiet, started laughing.

"You suck at this," he said merrily, starting to circle the table in anticipation of his next shot.

I sighed, taking a few steps back to give him room and grabbed the beer bottle, bringing it to my lips. "Yeah, I'm a little rusty," I admitted, watching him lean over the table with a look of pure concentration on his face.

His shot was perfect, causing ball number six to fly straight into the hole.

"Yes!" he cried excitedly, spinning around to grin at me in a very self-satisfied manner.

I rolled my eyes at his child-like enthusiasm. Deciding to ignore the gall of the imminent defeat rolling off of me, he turned his back to me, stalking for another ball.

"You know," Jasper spoke from where he was seated at the table, his eyes following Emmett with interest. "Mom complained that you haven't joined the Saturday family dinners in a while."

I knew that even though he wasn't looking at me, I was the one he was addressing.

I shrugged, taking another sip of beer. "I didn't feel like hearing her praise Lauren Mallory, and not only that, but also trying to shove her down my throat."

"She's hot," Emmett chimed in, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at me.

"And?" I muttered, miffed. "You think everything reduces to physical appearance? I can't stand the woman."

In my peripheral, I could see Jasper nod his head approvingly.

Emmett however suddenly straightened up, planting his cue stick firmly into the floor as he leaned into it. "Speaking of women…" he said, staring at me intently. "Who is this Bella I keep hearing about from Jessica?"

I flinched at the mention of Isabella. I should have known Jessica was going to eventually tell her parents about her, but the question still took me by surprise. I searched my mind for an appropriate answer, finally coming up with, "She's a friend."

For a long moment Emmett regarded me suspiciously. "A friend," he repeated, staring me down and trying to intimidate the truth out of me. When I simply nodded, he sighed in frustration. "Would you like to elaborate?"

"No," I said stoically, refusing to give him details of my personal life. Whatever it was that we had, it was between me and Isabella. At least for now.

"Look, Edward." Emmett frowned, moving the cue stick to the pool table, so he could put his hands akimbo; a position that demanded attention. " I don't mean to intrude in your personal life, but I think I have the right to know who is this woman my daughter has suddenly grown so attached to. All I heard last Sunday evening was… Bella this… Bella that. Who is this Bella? And most importantly, why won't you talk about her? I see you everyday at work, but you've never mentioned her. Not even once."

I groaned softly, starting to get annoyed with his 'I'm your big brother and you have to tell me the truth' attitude. "I told you, Emmett. She's just a friend."

"Is she one of those… friends with benefits?" he asked in a low voice, getting closer.

"No," I replied sharply. "Of course not."

He didn't seem convinced. "Just…" He put his large hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Be careful who you get involved with."

I shrugged his hand off, my temper starting to get the best of me. "I'm not a fucking child, Emmett," I spat, seething. "I don't need you to tell me how to live me life."

At my unexpected reaction, he took a step back, looking bewildered. "Why are you being so defensive?" Then, as if having a revelation, his eyes widened slightly. "Is she some kind of junkie? Has she been in prison?"

I wanted to laugh at the absurdness of his deduction, but instead I let out a snort. "You're being ridiculous."

"Then, what's the problem?" he insisted.

"I told you, I don't want to discuss my personal life with you," I said sternly, walking over to one of the plush chairs and taking a seat next to Jasper. I crossed my arms over my chest and stared up at Emmett defiantly.

"Fine," he assented, turning back to the game. "I'll just ask Jess."

"Do whatever you like," I muttered sulkingly, grabbing my bottle and downing the rest of the beer.

"Are we done talking about this Bella chick?" Jasper interfered, glancing at me apprehensively.

"Yes," I said.

Emmet didn't answer. He was looking down at the pool table, seeming deep in thought.

I sighed heavily, turning my head to my right and away from both my brothers. There, sitting at the bar and scanning the crowd was a cute brunette. She reminded me of Isabella, and I found myself staring at her for a long while.

It wasn't that I didn't want my family to know about Isabella, but I just had a feeling this wasn't the right time yet. There was something inside me –my intuition maybe- that told me I needed to keep her away from them for the time being.

Besides, I wasn't even sure what the future had in store for Isabella and me. Maybe we weren't even destined to have more than a simple friendship.

At some point the brunette's eyes met mine, and she smiled invitingly. However, it was the wrong smile, definitely not the one I was looking for. It wasn't soft and slightly crooked, revealing the ghost of a dimple in her left cheek, but rather wide, showing off a pair of blindingly white, fake teeth.

All of a sudden, I felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice cold water over my head, waking me out of my reverie, and I quickly looked in the opposite direction, frowning when I met the disapproving stare of my brother.

~~ 0 ~~

I didn't sleep well that night. I kept tossing and turning, dreams of Isabella plaguing my slumber. I was restless, dozing off for short periods of time, only to wake up brusquely and stare at the ceiling before changing my position in an attempt to get my much needed sleep.

It was as if I was in some sort of suspended consciousness, a light Svapna, alternating between Jagrat and Sushupti, but never actually reaching the desired unconsciousness that causes the brain to enter the sleep mode and the body to fall in a state of deep relaxation.

It was five-thirty in the morning when I got out of the bed, feeling neither tired nor rested. I used the bathroom, then headed into the kitchen for a glass of water. I returned with the water and lay down, deciding to turn on the TV to serve as a distraction.

Eventually, I got bored and started pacing the room. I went back into the kitchen, this time to make coffee. When it was ready, I headed over to the balcony. Leaning over the glass railing, I enjoyed the warm liquid that contrasted with the cold air surrounding me. It was still dark outside, but the traffic below gave no indication that most of the Chicagoans were very much asleep.

Then I started feeling a sudden need for physical exercise. I wanted to run, but not inside on a pathetic treadmill. I wanted to run in the park and feel the cold. I wanted to fill my lungs with the fresh air of nature, not the stale one that lingered in my home.

The urge to call Isabella and ask her to run with me was growing stronger and stronger, and by the time half an hour of debating with myself had passed, I had made up my mind.

"Edward?" she answered in a hoarse voice, sounding confused and a little panicked.

"Morning," I greeted cheerfully, already heading into my bedroom to change clothes.

"Uh, morning. Why are you calling at this hour? Did something happen?"

"No." I smiled reassuringly, even though she couldn't see me. "I just woke up earlier than I would have liked to and was wondering… do you still run in the park?"

She cleared her throat, trying to get her voice to work properly. "Yeah. Angela usually makes me, but today she's working, so she's sleeping in."

"Excellent." I opened one of the drawers, pulling out a pair of socks. "I'll run with you."

"What?"

"Get dressed. I'll be over in twenty minutes."

"Are you serious?" Her tone denoted she probably thought I was crazy.

"Very. Get dressed." I hung up, not giving her the change to argue back.

Just as promised, twenty minutes later and two large paper cups of coffee purchased, I was standing in front of her apartment door. I reached out and rang the doorbell, and shortly after I was looking at a half-asleep Isabella.

"I have coffee," I said, holding one of the cups to her as a peace offering.

She let out a weak moan, grabbing the cup greedily and ushering me inside. "Thank God."

I chuckled, taking in her disheveled hair that had yet to be brushed. "It was the least I could do for waking you up at six thirty a.m."

She peered up at me, the corner of her mouth lifting up. "You could have waited until seven or eight."

"You're not a morning person, are you?" I observed as she swallowed the caffeine in large gulps.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Obviously. How about you?"

"Unfortunately for you, I am."

She took a few more sips of coffee then disappeared in her room for a minute, coming back with her hair pinned up in a ponytail.

"Hold this," she said, handing me the paper cup. "I need to put on my running shoes."

As she crunched down to tie the shoelaces, her tight yoga pants slid down her hips, revealing the black cotton thong she was wearing. I swallowed thickly and stared rudely, unable to tear my gaze away. She was all woman, her natural curves only accentuated by the simple piece of lingerie, and that didn't escape my notice. A few inappropriate thoughts crossed my mind, but I brushed them off quickly when she stood up and grabbed her down vest, throwing it over the hoodie she had on. I smiled at the similarity of our outfits.

"I can't believe I agreed to this," she muttered in the elevator, glaring up at me. "I could have still been in my warm, cozy bed. Very much asleep."

"Quit whining." I laughed, placing my arm around her shoulders. "Exercise is good for you."

She shrugged and leaned into me. "I thought you had a treadmill at home. Why not just run on it?"

"I wanted to run with you," I answered simply, speaking the truth.

Her expression softened immediately. She smiled sweetly, biting down on her lower lip. "Okay. You're forgiven."

"Forgiven?" I raised an eyebrow questioningly. "For what?"

"For dragging me out of bed in this weather and especially at this hour."

I chuckled at the pointed look she was giving me. The doors to the elevator opened, and we stepped out, heading for the front entrance, my arm still around her.

An old lady wearing a thick, plaid robe was standing in front of the built-in-the-wall mailbox. When she saw us approaching, her eyes darted between the two of us, smiling when they met Isabella. She locked her mailbox, turning around to face us.

"Good morning, Mrs. Harris," Isabella greeted politely.

"Good morning, Bella dear," she replied, curiously staring at my hand that was resting on Isabella's shoulder blade. "Where are you off to this early in the morning?"

Isabella sighed sufferingly, gesturing towards her outfit. "To the park to run."

The woman nodded, her clear blue aging eyes moving up to study my face. "And who's this handsome young man? I think I've seen him before."

"Yes." Isabella smiled at me. "This is my friend Edward."

"Nice to meet you," I said, and Mrs. Harris nodded again, this time in acknowledgement as she started walking past us. She chuckled quietly, as to herself, making sure to add over her shoulder, "He's a lot better looking than the other one."

I turned to Isabella with a frown. "What did she mean, 'the other one'?"

She started walking, and I followed, opening the door for her as we stepped into the cold winter air. "Oh, um… my ex boyfriend."

"Should I feel flattered?" I asked teasingly as we walked side by side at a leisurely pace, and she rolled her eyes at me in response.

A few feet ahead there was a garbage bin, and I tossed my now empty cup inside. I pulled out a pair of gloves from my down vest and put them on, burying my hands into my sweat pants' front pockets to keep them warm.

"So how long had you been together?" I continued, my curiosity getting the best of me.

"A couple of years," she replied, linking her right arm with my left one. It was a trivial, insignificant gesture, but it pleased me more than I cared to admit.

I went on with my interrogation. "Why did you break up?"

Taking another sip of coffee, she seemed to be contemplating her answer for a brief moment. "We wanted different things."

"Such as?"

She was staring into the distance, reminiscing bygone times. "He wanted us to move in together; I didn't."

"In other words, he was ready for the next step and you weren't," I concluded.

"Exactly."

"I remember the same thing happened to me in freshman year at Yale. I had been with my girlfriend for a few months, and one day she asked me to move in with her. I broke up with her as soon as the words left her mouth."

"Wow," she breathed, looking half-shocked half-amused. "Why?"

"I wasn't ready," I said with a shrug. "Besides, I was a conceited prick. I knew I could have whichever girl I wanted."

"Hmmm," she hummed, grinning at me knowingly. "You were a real peach, weren't you?"

"Yeah. I was insufferable," I confessed. "But that's in the past. I've come a long way since then."

She nudged me playfully. "Good to know."

With that, the subject was closed. We reached my car, which I had to park a block away, and we got inside, heading towards the park.

To my surprise, once we got there, I noticed we weren't the only crazy ones running at seven a.m. on a freezing December morning.

Isabella didn't even wait for the usual warm up. She kept bouncing from one foot to the other, and as soon as we entered the park, she covered her head with the hood and started running like the cold was chasing her. With a chuckle, I did the same, sprinting to catch up to her.

"I need a break," she panted sometime later, slowing down to a light jog.

"Already?" I breathed heavily, checking my watch.

She stopped abruptly, putting her hands on her hips. "What do you mean already?" She frowned at me, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "We've been circling the park for almost forty minutes."

I shook my head disapprovingly, coming to stand next to her. "You need to build up your resistance."

Her eyes widened in horror. "I've only started running a few months ago, Edward. And I don't even do it every week. You on the other hand…" She waved her hand in my general direction, "… have been exercising for years."

"How about you exercise with me?" I suggested automatically, not really thinking about it.

"You mean at the gym you go to?" she asked breathlessly, wiping the sweat of her forehead with the hoodie's sleeve.

"Yes. Does the idea appeal to you?" It definitely appealed to me. A lot.

Isabella contemplated briefly before answering. "Yeah… okay. I need to get a gym membership, right?"

"I'll take care of it," I offered, pleased at the prospect of having a gym partner; especially since it was her. "I usually go on Tuesdays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays too."

"In the morning or in the evening? You know I'm not a morning person."

"In the evening. I go straight from work."

"Okay." She smiled, starting to fan herself with her hands. "But right now I need to sit down or my legs are going to give up on me."

"Come." I held my gloved hand to her, and she took it as I guided her to a nearby bench.

"Ahhh," she exhaled contently, pulling her feet underneath her as she let her head fall back. "So good."

I sat down next to her, extending my arms on the back of the bench and my legs on the asphalt in front of me. "Do you still want to go to the movies?" I asked uncertain, glancing at her sideways.

"Only if you want to," she replied, pulling out a pack of tissues and blowing her nose quietly.

"I do," I said, sniffing. "I haven't gone to the movies in… over two years, I think."

She offered me a tissue, and I took it gratefully. "Really?"

"Yes. I've been busy with work, then Tanya died… I just didn't have the time or desire to go." Only when I was done talking had I realized I had mentioned Tanya. It was strange, since I rarely did so. Even in the presence of my family I preferred not to bring her up because of the memories the simple mention of her name evoked in me. But with Isabella, conversation was flowing so easily, the words were simply pouring out of me.

I expected her to inquire about Tanya, but she didn't. Instead, she seemed focused on a young woman walking a Retriever dog.

"Can we go?" She turned to me pleadingly a few minutes later. "I'm exhausted and really really hungry."

"Yeah." I rose to my feet immediately, helping her up. "I'm pretty famished, too. How about we have breakfast at my place since it's closest? I know how to make an omelet."

"Okay," she said tentatively. "As long as you don't give me food poison…"

I laughed heartedly, leaning down to whisper in her ear jokingly. "I might burn the place down first."

~~ 0 ~~

"Do you mind if I take a shower first?" I called from the bathroom where I was currently washing my hands. Glancing in the mirror above the sink, I saw my hair plastered on my forehead with sweat, and I ran a wet hand through it, making it stand up.

A quiet chuckle came from the doorway, and I glanced in that direction to see Isabella looking at me amusedly. "No," she said. "Although, I'd like one, too. I stink."

"You can have one," I replied, grabbing the hem of my thick hoodie and pulling it over my head. "I have two bathrooms."

I tossed the piece of clothing in the hamper and looked up to see Isabella staring at the damp t-shirt that was sticking to my skin tightly.

"No, I don't have anything to change into," she refused, averting her eyes quickly.

"I can give you something of mine," I offered, but she shook her head.

"It's okay. I can wait until I get home." Then she added mischievously, "You'll just have to deal with the smell."

"I won't be long," I snickered, pulling my t-shirt off. She closed the door to give me privacy, and I heard her light footsteps as she walked away.

I had planned on taking a short shower, not wanting to leave her alone for too long. However, as soon as I stepped under the hot spray, my entire body started relaxing. So, the first five minutes I spent with my hands on the wall, letting the soothing water cascade over me. By the time it was over, a good fifteen minutes must have passed. I headed into my bedroom to put on some clean clothes, then headed over to the kitchen, thinking I was going to find Isabella there.

There was no sign of Isabella in the kitchen, and I walked towards the living room, where I found her lying on the couch. The TV was on, and I thought she was watching it, but as I got closer, I saw she had her eyes closed.

For a moment I just stood, watching her sleep. She wasn't wearing any make up, her ponytail was hanging loose and she was still a bit sweaty from our earlier activities, but I found her more attractive than ever. She was simply beautiful, and it was getting harder and harder not to notice it. I let my gaze travel down her body, and I felt like a pervert for ogling her while she was unconscious, but I couldn't help it. There she was, all woman, lying innocently on my couch in her tight yoga pants and a thin wifebeater that revealed slivers of her bra on the sides. It was maddening, having her there and not being able to touch her the way I had the urge to.

No, we weren't ready for that yet. Neither one of us was.

She looked so peaceful, I had a hard time finding it in me to wake her up. But, I knew she had been hungry, and I didn't want her to skip breakfast. I kneeled next to the couch, debating on what to do.

"Isabella," I murmured softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She stirred up, peering at me through narrowed slits. "Hey. You fell asleep."

"Mmhmm." She sighed heavily, turning to face away from me.

I rubbed her upper arm, leaning over her to whisper in her ear. "I thought you were hungry."

"Mmhmm," she hummed again, weakly swatting at me over her shoulder. "One more minute."

Giving up, I got to my feet, deciding to let her rest. I was still hungry, so I went back into the kitchen to make myself a sandwich. I ate, made some more coffee, then headed to my study, leaving the door open in case she woke up. I stayed there for a few hours, working. Around eleven thirty, Susan showed up. She asked me what I wanted for lunch, and I told her to make whatever she liked, letting her know she had to cook for two.

Hours later, I was stepping out of the study, when I almost collided with a sleepy Isabella.

"Well, well." I smirked at her. "Look who's up."

She groaned softly, rubbing her hands over her face. "I'm so sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" I asked, confused.

"For falling asleep on your couch like that."

"I don't mind," I assured her.

She nodded, but didn't seem convinced. "What time is it?"

I glanced at my watch. "Seven minutes past one." Wanting to make sure she wasn't thinking about leaving yet, I added, "Susan is here. She's making steaks."

"Oh." Her face lit up like a Christmas three. "I'm starving."

"I tried to wake you," I said in my defense, holding my hands up.

"Yeah?" She frowned.

"You don't remember?"

"No."

I chuckled, and she smiled sheepishly. "I need to use the bathroom."

"You know where it is," I said, gesturing in that direction.

As soon as she was out of sight, my cell phone started ringing. Pulling it out of my pocket, I saw my mother's number and let out a frustrated groan.

"Yes, mother?" I answered, not bothering to hide the annoyance in my voice.

"Hello, dear," she said sweetly, pretending not to notice my tone. "How are you?"

"I'm working on a case," I lied. "Did you need something?"

There was a pregnant pause on the other side of the line before she continued, "I wanted to know if you're joining us for dinner this evening."

"I can't," I lied again, feeling no remorse whatsoever. "I'm meeting a client for dinner."

"On a Saturday?" she asked, an edge to her voice.

"Yes."

"Edward…"

I knew she was about to start lecturing me, so I cut her off before she had the chance. "I'll come by tomorrow."

"Fine," she assented, audibly displeased.

"I have to go now."

I didn't even wait for her to say goodbye. Isabella was coming out of the bathroom, and I hung up, shoving the phone back into my pocket.

"Work?" she inquired.

"My mother," I clarified, not going into details. "Are you ready to have lunch?"

She grinned in return. "Yes, please."

~~ 0 ~~

Later that evening Isabella and I were coming out of the movie theater. She still had the half-full bag of popcorn in hand, and she passed it to me, scrunching her nose. I took it from her and tossed it in the nearest trashcan as we walked unhurriedly through the busy mall.

"So, what did you think of the movie?" she asked, linking her arm with mine like she had done earlier that morning. She was wearing a pair of boots with hight heels that made her much taller, so that the top of her head reached my chin. Our arms still linked, I made a bold gesture, daring to take her hand in mine and guiding them both into my pocket.

"It was nice," I answered distractedly, hoping she didn't think I was too forward. I just felt the need for more physical contact.

Isabella glanced down and smiled, then looked back up. "Just nice?"

"Okay, it was pretty good," I admitted chuckling, relieved that she was okay with it.

She went on talking, telling me what she had enjoyed most about the movie, but I wasn't listening to her anymore. My eyes met a pair of familiar blue ones, and I stopped walking abruptly, halting Isabella with me.

There, only feet away, clutching his girlfriend's small hand, numbly stood Jasper.

A/N In case you didn't know, Jagrat, Svapna and Sushupti are the three phases of consciousness: waking, dreaming and dreamless sleep.

You can now find me on twitter at DeeutzaT.

Thanks for reading!

~Andreea~