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LadySharkey1 rocks my world by being the most amazing, kick-ass beta I could ever imagine.

28.

Where Bella would go on to spend much of her evening in the ER with a possible hand fracture, Edward merely settled for sulking in the privacy of his hotel room, a bottle of water in his hand and an ice pack pressed against his bruising cheekbone.

She'd hit him.

Although it hurt like hell, and even though their conversation hadn't played out according to the carefully practiced scenario he'd had in his head, he couldn't help but admire her for standing up for herself.

He wished he would have done so when there was still anything left in his life to stand up for.

But then again, out of the two of then, he had always been the weaker person.

No more, though. If there was one thing therapy had taught him, it was how to find his strength and persevere—even when that little voice at the back of his mind was screaming at him to give up, that he wasn't good enough.

He was.

Even in spite of years of his grandparents' coldness and living with his own fears and unprocessed trauma weighing him down, he was slowly learning how to rise above all of the things that had ruined—or threatened to ruin—his life and to focus on the good things.

Focus on the fact that he too was worthy of a good life.

He still had a long way to go, he admitted, and one of the first steps after making amends with the people that had ended up hurt was find a place to live. Because he was getting tired of living in hotels!

If Edward really wanted to be in control of his life, he would have to start by finding his own place and learning to take care of himself. There had always been someone to pick up his mess, whether it was dirty clothes or dishes, angry record company execs or groupies claiming to carry his child. Even as a kid, his parents' and grandparents' money had always made sure all his troubles vanished like snow before the sun.

And he was never held accountable for his own actions.

Or choices, both good and bad.

And, man, had he picked a crappy life over a happy one.

Looking back now, he saw what kind of man that had made him: an asshole with self-esteem low enough to walk away from the good things in his life and a 'devil may care' attitude that drove him straight towards the bad.

And so, after a too short night of sleep and a deep groan as he looked in the mirror the next morning to find his cheekbone a red and purplish mess, he dusted himself off and called his sister who, after some pleading agreed to have lunch with him.

It was a start.

He then put in a few more phone calls; one to enlist the services of a therapist who'd been recommended to him by his rehab doctor; one to a realtor to start his search for some property, and the final one to Aro, to assure him that he was indeed still on the wagon and to find out how many wheels his performance from the previous night had set in motion.

Surprisingly many, it seemed, as Aro had already set up a meeting with one of the execs they'd really hoped would show interest in Edward later that afternoon.

It was just what he needed to build up his courage for lunch, because he knew that this time it would definitely take more than a smile to convince his sister that he was a changed man. And judging by the stern, distant look on her face as she waited for him at the table of some upscale restaurant, the conversation he was going to have with her wouldn't be any easier than the one he had with Bella the previous night.

He hoped it would be less painful though.

"You're late!" his sister opened, taking a sip from her glass of Merlot. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"I'm sorry," Edward tried, waving off the waiter as he moved to fill the wine glass in front of him. "I was on the phone with Aro, setting up meetings with record execs."

"At least you weren't fucking some groupie," Esme snorted bitterly. "Or my children's nanny."

"I'd love to be able to scold you on that one," Edward spoke, hanging his head in shame as he remembered all the times he'd been doing just that, "but I can't. All I can say that the last time…last summer. It wasn't like that."

"It didn't look any different," Esme snapped, recomposing herself into the perfect image of an Upper Manhattan lady when their waiter came back to take their orders, only to revert to her true self as soon as everyone was back out of earshot. "How could you, Edward? Bella…she wasn't just some member of staff, she was a friend of the family and you treated her like just another piece of collateral damage in your little schemes!"

"My greatest regret is, to some extent, I did just that," Edward admitted, touching on a subject so raw, therapy hadn't been able to give him any sort of resignation. "But maybe not in the way you were thinking. I really do love her, Esme, but I followed the wrong directions and ended up knowingly throwing away the one thing in my life that did make sense, all because I thought I didn't deserve her."

Esme sighed. "Edward," she groaned, rubbing her temples, "Do you know how much I want to believe you right now? It's just…"

"I know." Edward, in turn, let out a deep sigh. "And I don't blame you. I've done a lot of shit I'm not exactly proud of but…I've turned a page. Rehab has changed me and I want to prove it. I'm seeing a therapist for the first time in my life and that's given me a new perspective on life and on who I am. I want to be a better man, Es."

"I need proof of that, little brother," Esme admitted with another deep sigh. "And you are going to need a hell of a lot more if you ever want to get back into my family's good graces."

Edward knew that by 'her family' his sister actually meant her husband and, while he knew he would eventually need Carlisle on his side, he still couldn't care less about the man's opinion of him. "I'll try," he promised none the less. "I can't promise you that from here on out, I'm never going to mess up again but what I can promise you is that I'm going to try like hell not to."

From that point on, their lunch went on in a more relaxed fashion. That wasn't to say it was pleasant, just that the siblings had come to some sort of understanding; Edward would try his best to win back his sister's trust and Esme would allow him to try.

By the time they'd finished lunch, they were in a much better place than they'd been in years. And while some of that was due to the fact that, away from the tension of Casa Cullen and its most absentee resident, most of it was the fact that Edward was trying to actually listen to what his sister was saying, instead of taking her love for him for granted.

"Well what do you know?" she spoke, the first genuine smile appearing on Esme's face as they said their goodbyes. "You might have really changed after all!"

Edward chuckled, giving her a cautious hug. "Who knows, sis? Maybe you can teach an old dog new tricks after all!"

"Stay in touch, okay?" There were tears as Esme stepped out of their hug again, completely overwhelmed by the huge change she saw in her brother. There was so much of her that wanted to believe that he was back—that the little brother she'd cared for and loved so much had risen from the ashes of the jaded, asshole musician.

But she couldn't.

Not yet.

She'd been burned too often. So instead of inviting him wholly back into her heart and her home, she settled on, "And stay on that damn wagon, no matter what happens, okay? Call me if you need me…or if you just want to vent."

"Okay," Edward promised her, high on the success of their meeting as he watched her glide gracefully into the backseat of the awaiting town car.

But as pleased and relieved as he was to be making head way with mending his relationship with his sister, there was still that nagging tug at his heart, knowing a huge part of it was still missing.

Bella.

He sighed, his eyes closing to see her fiery eyes glistening back at him much like they had the previous night.

He needed a second shot at making things right with her. He needed to keep trying, even if his chances at success dwindled with each failed attempt.

But to do so, he needed a way to contact her.

On his way back to his hotel, he contemplated stalking Columbia University for as long as it took to find her when an incoming message from Aro reminded him of a much easier way to get closer to her again.

Jasper.

He and his nephew had kept in touch after his eviction from his sister's beach house. Where Rose had been obedient enough to erase his number soon after the morning Edward had been thrown out, Jasper must have somehow managed to hold onto it. And seeing as he was far less docile than his little sister, the two of them had kept in touch from time to time.

They didn't discuss much, just 'hellos' and 'how are you doings' but, as Edward realized at that moment, it might give him an in with Bella. Because if he'd played his cards right, she would have been dubbed the victim in his scheme and would have stayed gainfully employed while Edward had been carrying all the blame, as he should have. That, of course, meant that maybe Jasper had her number as well, or at least knew how to get into contact with her.

After shooting off a quick message to his nephew, he got in the shower, trying to spruce himself up as best as he could for the record company's meeting. Looking in the mirror as he finished shaving, he couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that his former self would have loathed to see him try so hard to make an impression on 'the suits'. The old Edward would have barged into that meeting still reeking of weed and post-performance sweat, and then taken anything they offered him for granted. But then again, the old Edward had been high on pills that made him believe he was the king of the fucking world and entitled to all the good shit thrown his way.

That Edward had been a long ways off from the original him, but that had been kind of the point.

The real Edward, though it would continue to be a challenge, was overcoming his past demons. He was determined to create a life he could be proud of.

A personal life overflowing with love and a professional life full of accomplishments. After all, wasn't that all anyone could ask for?

As his cab slowly crept downtown through the ever congested Manhattan roads, his phone beeped with a message from Jasper, containing the digits that would get him in contact with Bella again, as well as a warning not to hurt her.

His nerves started to rise as he got out of the cab and walked up to the entrance of the high-rise glass palace that housed the record company he'd always wanted to be a part of. They were specialized in music just like his, representing mostly the homegrown segment of the music world. Back in the days, Edward knew they'd made him an offer but as Aro had taken a more decisive lead in those days and another company had offered more money, his dream of literally following into the footsteps of most of the artists he admired had been put on hold.

Until that day.

Taking in a deep breath, he tried to remember what his therapist had said while the need for a drink or a hit with some calming, confidence-building drug started to become stronger by the second.

His fingers twitched, itching to hold a shot glass as he stood in line for the elevator but he persisted, remembering what his therapist told him about finding something to distract him whenever the urge hit as he fished his phone out of the pocket of his pants, his fingers flying over the touchscreen as he committed the digits Jasper had send him to his address book and then proceeded to type in a short, hopefully innocent enough message that would get her to respond to him.

It was only two words but typing them took more guts than getting off that elevator and walking into a meeting full of people who could decide his professional fate.

Seeing Aro, beaming in the doorway with the professional pride of having personally snatched his client from the jaws of career-death, he took a deep breath, crossing the threshold into a snazzy corner office as his fingers hit 'Send.'

His future would be decided that day.

Thoughts?