DISCLAIMER: Stephenie Meyer owns the characters. Storyline's mine :)

THANK YOU for your amazing reviews. I love hearing from you.

I have mixed feelings about this chapter. So just... let me know how you feel about this one.

EdwardsFirstKiss, again, many many thanks!

Enjoy. R.

20. Sia – Breathe Me

CHAPTER 19

This I Hadn't Done in Years

"Be my friend, hold me
Wrap me up, unfold me
I am small, I'm needy
Warm me up and breathe me."

"Ouch, I have lost myself again
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found
Yeah, I think that I might break
Lost myself again and I feel unsafe."

Tuesday, April 2, 2013 (3 days later)

„Hi, Edward. It's me. Uhm. I mean, it's Bella," I said nervously, cursing myself internally. I didn't know why, but I felt awkward. "I just thought, you know, we talked about being somewhere else and not in your office for our sessions. We didn't specify where today's session would be, so I thought maybe we could meet in the park in downtown Seattle? You know… the one just a block away from my place? We can take a walk. It's sunny, so… I don't know. Just give me a call." I hung up and cursed myself again. It was my lunch break and not wanting to sabotage his effort, I had reached out and tried to arrange our session today. I called in the morning, but he hadn't picked up. I tried to call now, but he wasn't available again. I just left him a voicemail and hoped I wasn't too… pushy or something. I didn't want to bother him; I knew he had been quite busy with opening his practice. We hadn't spoken to each other since Saturday and I still felt weird. Was the weirdness ever going to go away?

I returned to the canteen to Alice and Rose who were already sitting at our table.

"Where were you, Bella?" Alice asked, chewing on her salad.

"I just called Edward. We are supposed to have a session today, but we didn't talk about a place to meet." I had told the girls about the arrangement we had come to. Alice was not very happy about it, but Rose lit up like a ray of sunshine peeking out from behind a grey cloud; she loved his idea, saying she knew Edward would come up with a way to help me. "But he isn't picking up. I left him a message."

"Oh, I don't think you'll have a session today, Bella," Alice said, not elaborating.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Tanya and his daughter are in town. They arrived on Saturday," she explained, and I stared at her like if she had just told me the earth was flat.

"Saturday?" I echoed.

"Yep," nodded Alice, taking a fork to her mouth. After she swallowed, she continued. "It was unexpected. Jasper told me Edward was quite angry Tanya hadn't told him in advance; he's way too busy this week to have any distractions. Apparently, they had a fight about it."

"I can't imagine them having a fight," said Rosalie, an incredulous look on her face. "They're like… perfect together."

My eyes widened. "Have you seen them together?"

She shook her head. "No. But they sound like a perfect family. Emmett says they are perfect for each other, he likes Tanya a lot." Of course, Emmett likes her. "They've been together for eight years! Isn't that amazing? Half of the marriages nowadays end in divorce after no more than two or three years. And Emmett told me they dated for quite some time even before they were married."

"Yeah, but I really want to meet Tanya," Alice said, pushing her salad away.

"I know!" Rosalie agreed. "I wanted them to come over on Sunday for dinner, but Emmett said they were with Edward's parents. Maybe we'll finally meet her on Saturday," Rosalie said, looking hopeful. "I'd love to see their daughter, too. Edward talks about her with such admiration."

Alice nodded. "Yeah, I know. He adores her. Jasper says he's obsessed with her. I wouldn't be surprised if he wanted to spend as much time with them as possible, now that they're here. He barely sees them because of his work."

I swallowed hard. It made sense. His family came first, I was just his patient after all; a friend, but a patient first.

"But he has other patients in his practice now," I said. "How am I different? Doesn't he have to… be with me as well?"

Alice looked at me, raising her brow. "Since when are you so keen to have your therapy sessions, Bella?"

I was so not keen on having sessions with him. "I'm not… I was just curious about how the new my-patient-is-my-friend system is going to work."

"Don't listen to Alice, Bella. I think it's great you're starting to enjoy your therapy," Rose said.

"I am not…" I sighed. "Look, I just want to know if we're on or not, okay?" I said and in that exact moment, my phone started ringing. I reached for it almost immediately and upon seeing Edward's name, I stood up, taking the phone with me to an empty bathroom. "Yes?"

"Hi, Bella."

"Did you get my message?"

"Yes, yes. I'm sorry I didn't pick up, I was…" he trailed off distractedly. "I was busy."

It sounded weird, but I didn't want to read more into it than there really was. "Good. Is the park okay with you? If you want to go somewhere else, I don't mind. I didn't really know where to-"

"Bella, I'm afraid I have to cancel our session today. I'm sorry I didn't let you know yesterday, but I thought I would be able to squeeze you in."

"Oh," I said. It was one thing hearing it from Alice and another hearing Edward actually confirm it. "Mhm. That's okay."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice tight as if he was in a hurry.

"Yeah, I mean… I'm fine."

He was silent for a little while and then I heard him sigh silently. "What's wrong?"

"Why would there be something wrong?" I asked, my voice full of faked nonchalance.

"I thought we were friends. You can tell me."

"I'm fine, Edward. Really. See you on Friday? Or do you need some time off? Alice told me your family's in Seattle, so-"

"No, I'll see you on Friday. Definitely. We can meet at the park, at the usual time after school…?"

I felt relief rise within me. Relief that I didn't understand and didn't know if I should feel. I hated the man, for god's sakes.

"Sure."

"Good. Again, Bella, I apologize," he said, and his voice now sounded sincerer.

"It's okay."

"See you on Friday."

"See you on Friday," I echoed and sighed. What was wrong with me?

I couldn't deny the fact that Edward's suggestion at being friendlier with each other impressed me. I appreciated it and the more I thought about it over the last few days, the more I liked the idea. I knew it would be hard and more difficult for him to treat me in this way, but he was making things easy for me. That proved to me that he wasn't as big of a dick as I had suspected after all. I mean, he definitely could be rude and sarcastic if he wanted, push my buttons just like I did his, but the fact that he was the one who had made the effort meant a lot. He had backed off from the standard relationship between a patient and their doctor. It was actually much more than just an arrangement for him. It was more than a compromise. He was the one making all the sacrifices, I wasn't the one compromising. And on principle alone, I wasn't very comfortable with it. It felt now like I owed him something, like we weren't equal.

Friendship… Could we make it work?

The things he had told me on Saturday were lingering in my mind almost all the time. I could still clearly see his frustration, the way he had run his hand through his hair as he was talking about me and just how much I infuriated him at times, how he felt around me and what he actually thought about me. It explained most of his confusing reactions I hadn't cracked, so I felt a little better about him now – more familiar. Also, he saw me being broken down; he saw my cracked heart. He wasn't the same Edward for me anymore as much as I wanted to pretend he was. We could call ourselves friends, but in reality, it was just another kind of arrangement between us. Technically, I was still his patient, and I knew that I might not be able to talk about any of what had happened to me for weeks to come. On the other hand, however, I couldn't entirely get rid of the feeling that there was still something between us, some kind of bridge we had yet to cross when it came to our relationship. I didn't understand it at all.

The school day ended fairly quickly, and I walked home, bathing in the sunshine that occasionally appeared in the grey sky. It was a quite nice day. In Washington, April wasn't a month that prided itself on very many sunny days. Yet, even despite the sunshine, I could feel a sense of defeat and lethargy coming my way, making me feel gloomy and just overall very sad. I had felt a lightness on Saturday, but today I felt like shit for no apparent reason. It was just one of those days again. Tell me now… why should I aim for feeling better when there would definitely come a day like this when all the happiness would just disappear into thin air again? What was the point in trying?

Once I was home, I put some music on and sat on the couch still in my coat entering a melancholic bubble, just staring blankly around me. I did that a lot when I was way too exhausted by pain to notice it anymore. I just felt the void in my chest, the absence of purpose and fulfillment. At times like this I not only felt the emptiness inside me, around me, in every part of my life, but I also realized it. I hated moments like these, but I could hardly avoid them. They were a part of me and while it was nice to talk to Edward and it helped temporarily, now I just felt awful. Again – what was the point?

I sat there, for god knows how long, my mind an empty page. When the room darkened, I stood up deciding I needed to wash my face or do something to wake myself up. I turned the music off. Walking into my bedroom, I tripped over something, falling towards the ground on my knees, protecting my left hand from crashing to the ground. I hissed in pain and while I was on the floor, I looked over my shoulder to identify the object I had stumbled on. It was the box of my paintings. I hadn't put it in the closet and it had lain in the corner since Saturday. I couldn't care less about it. I kicked the box and it slid across the room until it stopped at the leg of my bed. I stood up rubbing my knees and then went into the bathroom deciding I needed a proper bath. I took my clothes off including the coat I was still wearing and let the water run. I added some bubbles and then sank slowly into the bathtub, letting my muscles stretch and relax a bit. I wasn't big on taking baths, but from time to time they were nice. I lay there until the water was ice cold and then wrapped myself in my fluffy robe. I went straight to bed because I wanted this day to be over already. Without changing into my PJs, I just let myself fall down into bed, curling up under the covers. To fall asleep wasn't as difficult tonight as I had expected, a few tears falling on the pillow as I drifted off into a restless sleep.

I woke up in the middle of the night feeling awfully thirsty. My stomach was growling as well, but I had already learned to ignore it. I pondered for a few minutes if I should stand up and go into the kitchen to get myself a glass of water or if I should just stay in bed. Thinking about not eating or drinking anything in almost twenty-four hours – since yesterday's breakfast – I eventually got up and half-asleep I started towards the kitchen only to find myself falling down again, now directly on my face as my right hand was too late to register what was going on. I cursed and stood up; noticing it was that freaking fucking box of paintings I had tripped over again.

"Fucking shit," I muttered, kicking the box angrily. If you had told me ten years ago I would treat my precious paintings like that, I would've never believed you. I went into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water that I swallowed in three gulps. I filled it again, taking it with me to my bedroom. I avoided the damn box, put the glass on my bedtable and fell into bed again. I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep, but all I did was toss around, my mind was way too alert to turn itself off. I turned to the other side and noticed the box now lying in the middle of the room, taunting me. I don't know exactly why, but I stood up and walked over to it. I eyed it, in the fairly dark room seeing only its silhouette. I bent over and lifted the box up, taking it with me to bed. I switched the light on, mindlessly opened it and with the emptiness I had felt before I took the paintings and drawings out one by one. I remembered them a bit too well for my liking. I remembered exactly what had inspired each of them; I even remembered the way I had painted them, what brushes and colors I had used. And while I was holding them, looking at each one, my mind automatically switched gears and I started seeing little mistakes. I started wondering what could've been different, what I shouldn't have done and what I could've added to different pictures. That color of one was too dull and another one was too bright. This square was a bit too close to the viewer's eye and I should've put it farther away in the distance. There was one – I'd called it Geese on the Cloud – that was only a canvas with horizontal waves, each wave a different color. On the bottom, there was an earthy brown wave and above it, a wave painted in a soft shade of dark blue that faded perfectly into the brown one below it. The third wave that faded into the blue one was dark forest green. The shapes of the waves were all different, and I remembered the way I had been layering them one after another, making the colors fade into each other. Brown, blue and green repeated in the waves that followed after the first three, and the whole painting was rather gloomy in terms of atmosphere. The waves were speckled with random white brush strokes that looked like tiger stripes. I fairly remembered I had been thinking of the forests surrounding First Beach in La Push when I had painted it. I'd liked the painting back then. Now? Not so much. It wasn't one of my craziest paintings despite its crazy name. I guess I liked the name the most; now that I think about it, it was solely for the fact that there were hardly any geese in the area around La Push.

The strangest painting I found in the box was also the darkest one. It was a painting of a forest of dead trees that had no leaves. The sky was almost white which faded into a dark – almost black – brown that represented the ground. In the middle of the forest, at the front of the painting was a small white silhouette of a girl in profile, looking up at the sky. My aim had been to portray the girl's silhouette with her emotions but without having to show her face. I didn't know if I had succeeded or not because I had never had feedback from anyone about it, but I liked to believe that yes, I had managed to do it. That wasn't the strange part about the picture, though. It was the tree opposite the girl. The tree had a big thick trunk that had an opening in its middle – an entry. It was pitch black, but if you focused well enough, you could see a silhouette of a skull with yellow eyes looking at the girl. It was called The Forest of Mine.

I sighed silently, a sole tear streaming down my cheek. How long had it been since I had held a pencil in my hand and drew something? Anything? I couldn't even remember. I pushed the box away and looked around the dark room for a few seconds, diving into the memory of what it had actually felt like to paint, to draw, to sketch, to see through the eyes of an artist the world around me. I had learned to ignore that part of myself so well that I was afraid I would never be able to see the world like that again. But I was mistaken. The moment I closed my eyes and apprehensively allowed myself to draw with my mind's eye, a feeling of freedom, creative strength and authenticity arose in me, making me feel courageous. Automatically, I saw Edward's face, beaming with a smile, his green eyes sparkling with something I rarely saw and didn't understand. I didn't know what it meant, but it was that thing in his eyes that made him really beautiful. I saw his face, its lines and sharp angles, the way his thick eyebrows towered over his deeply set eyes, his fairly plump pinkish lips of no particular clear-cut shape. I felt my fingers twitching with the need to capture what I saw and the fear of it disappearing before I could do so. Without further ado, my eyes snapped opened and without thinking I opened my bedtable drawer, grabbing a notebook and a simple blue pen I kept there. As if in a haze, I started to sketch the approximate contours, my right hand perfectly swift. However, it was that overwhelming calmness and excitement rushing through me that stopped my hand in the middle of a stroke.

Christ, what was I doing?

I didn't sketch long enough for it to become a full picture. Quite the contrary, it was just a basic outline of a portrait, but it already looked an awfully lot like Edward. Suddenly fearful, I put the notebook and pen hurriedly back into the drawer and closed my eyes, breathing deeply.

Drawing meant rejection. Rejection meant failure. Failure meant disappointment. Disappointment meant inadequacy. Inadequacy meant not being good enough. Not being good enough meant pain. Pain meant… suffering.

Anxious and a little agitated I switched the light off, and kicked the box away from me again, making it fall back onto the floor. I lay down and turned to the other side, facing the window. Silent cries lulled me to sleep where I saw his face again.

Friday, April 5, 2013 (3 days later)

It was a fairly windy evening, and twilight was setting behind my back. The days were getting longer with the upcoming summer months, but it had never made me feel better about the fact that I was living in Seattle. There were still clouds and rain and just an overall gloomy atmosphere in the air, no matter what the season. Edward and I had met here today and while a part of me had expected him to cancel at the last minute because of his family, I was glad to find him standing by the old scraggy tree in the middle of the park, turned with his back to me, in a long black coat, its collar put up, possibly to keep the sharp wind from touching the skin of his neck. My heart jumped at the sight of him standing there and the closer I got to him, the more nervous I became. I slowed down a little, taking a deep breath when he turned around abruptly and spotted me moving towards him, smiling tentatively.

"Hi," he said his hands in his pockets. His coat wasn't buttoned up and underneath his coat he was wearing a charcoal turtleneck. The dark colors he wore contrasted with his pale skin, making his green eyes pop. Seattle suited him. I wish I could say the same. All that grey made my white skin look translucent and unhealthy.

"Hi," I said, avoiding his eyes. I wrapped my arms around my torso, being careful with the left one, and waited for him to say something.

"You're cold," he said in observation.

"No, I'm okay." I was freezing, but why would I say that? "It's not that cold."

"It's pretty chilly. Shall we go for a coffee instead of a walk?"

"Are you cold?"

He shook his head, and I eyed the unruly mess on his head that "No, you are. Let's go and grab a coffee, Bella. You're shivering."

I rolled my eyes, and I almost made a sharp comment but bit my tongue. Instead, I smiled slightly. "Don't exaggerate."

He looked away from me and motioned with his hand to the left. "I never do. Shall we?"

I nodded because I knew he wouldn't back off, and slowly we started to walk in silence out of the park. I felt my hands shaking from the nipping cold. Well, one hand, but when I touched the left one with my right one, it felt ice cold. I could feel Edward watching me from the corner of his eye, frowning, but I didn't look up at him. Instead, I tried not to pay much attention to his proximity and ignore the urge to look at him.

Edward asked what café I wanted to go to, as there were a couple on the street, but I just shrugged, not really caring. So, he chose a little bookshop/café on the corner. I had never noticed it before and smiled upon entering because it looked amazing. The atmosphere was cozy but not too much; you could still have privacy. The furniture looked handmade, and every piece was different, yet it fit together. Edward led me to the back of the café to a dark green square table with two chairs. He asked if it was alright and I simply nodded because I didn't care where we sat. There were however more comfortably looking loveseats around us, but I didn't want to disagree with him. He helped me out of the coat and I saw how he again tried not to touch me. Upon my turning to face him I noticed him watching my body.

"What's wrong?" I asked, a little offended by the audacity of his act.

He looked back to my face. "You're not eating enough."

I rolled my eyes. "You're my shrink, Edward. Not my dad. I can feed myself."

He didn't reply, but he was frowning. Ignoring him I sat down behind the table, and he soon followed suit. In a fraction of a second, a waiter was at our table, asking us what we would like to order. I couldn't overlook the way he was looking at Edward.

"Bella?" Edward asked, wanting me to order first, apparently unaware of the waiter's attraction for him.

I sighed, thinking quickly. "Can I have a green tea?"

"Sure thing. What can I get for you?" he asked Edward, stepping a bit closer to his side of the table.

"Just a coffee, please," Edward said. "And a glass of water."

"Is that everything for you?"

I nodded, but Edward stopped the waiter when he turned to go. The waiter's face lit up. "Can you, please, bring us cheese toasts?"

"Absolutely."

"Thank you," Edward replied. When the waiter finally left our table, Edward turned to me, his piercing eyes on me. Was he really so oblivious to the waiter? Or maybe he just chose to ignore it. I think he was waiting for me to say something, but I only stared at him, taken aback by the intensity of his glare. "So?"

"So what?"

"How have you been?" he asked, his voice casual.

"Good." He raised his eyebrow in question. "What?" I asked.

"Nothing. "

"How have you been? "

"Good. "

I rolled my eyes. "That's it? Just good? "He nodded, a mischievous look in his eyes. "Oh, okay, I get it."

"What? "

I sighed. "I've been miserable. Satisfied? "

His shoulders tensed up. "Why?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. You tell me, you're the doctor. "

I saw he was getting frustrated by me again. But I could hardly stop myself from being like this. I was irritable, angry for no reason whatsoever. Even though we weren't in his office, it still felt arranged, forced and I felt like I was in the spotlight.

Because it is, Bella - an arrangement, remember?

I sighed again and before he could say anything, the waiter came back with our order, placing the tea, coffee, water and a plate full of cheese toasts on the table. Gosh, they smelled amazing. And I was starving, not eating much today.

The waiter was more courageous this time, touching Edward's shoulder gently. "Can I bring you anything else?" he asked him, ignoring me blatantly.

"No, thanks," Edward answered, totally oblivious to the tall blonde guy who was definitely giving him the eye. The boy left rather unsatisfied, and I imminently burst into laughter when I saw Edward's naïve expression. "What now?"

"That's just ridiculous," I said, still laughing.

"What's ridiculous?"

"Oh, Edward. That boy… Don't you see? He was hitting on you."

His eyes widened. "No, he wasn't."

"He totally was. It was so obvious."

"I would know if someone was hitting on me," he said confidently. "Especially men."

I raised my eyebrow. "Is that so? Is there something you'd like to talk about, Edward?"

He narrowed his eyes at me. "No. It's just that it would be difficult not to notice that."

"Whatever. I'll prove you wrong," I said and waved my hand in the air, immediately getting the waiter's attention.

"What are you doing?"

"Proving you wrong."

In three seconds the waiter was at our table, making eyes at my shrink. "Is there anything I can help you with?" he asked, and the innuendo was hard to miss.

Edward's eyes widened with realization and I almost bit off my tongue as I tried so hard not to laugh. He stammered like he wanted to say something but was unsuccessful. "Can I have a glass of water, too, please?" I asked instead of him because there was no way he would be able to say anything. The waiter reluctantly turned to me and nodded, leaving our table giving Edward one last look.

"So?" I asked, giggling.

He visibly relaxed once the waiter was gone. "Look, this time it was an exception. I normally notice these things."

Why didn't I believe him? "Right."

"My attention was occupied elsewhere."

"And might I ask where?"

"It was with you," he said matter-of-factly, his eyes on mine. My smile froze for a second. "Which brings me to…" he trailed off and pushed a plate with cheese toasts to me. "Eat."

I shook my head. "No."

"No?"

"No."

"I see. You don't do things that people tell you to do."

I nodded. "Exactly."

"You look hungry, though." I was. I was terribly hungry.

"I'm fine."

He shrugged. "Okay," he said simply, rolled up his sleeves showing his forearms and grabbed the first toast. I watched him eat it; he was humming in appreciation telling me how good it was and how the cheese was melted perfectly with every bite. Then he put the sandwich down and licked his lips, bringing his cheesy fingers to his mouth as well. Didn't he know what was he doing to me? Now, I was not only hungry but also horny and it was not a good combination. The picture I had in front of me was impeccable in terms of contrasts. Edward always seemed to be so neat and clean in his black slacks and button-ups, and even now in his turtleneck you could see how well put-together this man was. But seeing this perfect man getting his fingers dirty was a sight for the gods. The light was dim, too, and it made his pale skin shine brightly which was a blissful contrast on its own.

Why the hell was I reacting to him like that?! No, no, no, no, no. No, Bella. NO.

He smirked at me and that was the last straw. I snatched the plate from him. "Listen. I'll eat, but you-"

"But?" he asked, obviously amused as he put his wrists on the table. "Are you giving me conditions?"

"I'll eat, but you have to tell me how you have been, Edward," I said. "The truth."

He sighed, but I saw him relax when I grabbed a toast for myself. He reached for a napkin on the table and cleaned his fingers and mouth. "Deal."

I smiled. "Good." Then we kept staring at each other and waited for the other one to begin but no one conceded. "You first."

"I was… busy."

"That's it?" Before he could answer, the waiter brought me the glass of water, his eyes not leaving Edward. I only chuckled silently.

Edward, not paying him much attention, sighed loudly. "I was busy and agitated for most of the week. My family has come to visit from Chicago and my wife chose the most inconvenient time. Let's just say that I was not pleasantly surprised," he said, and I could detect the disapproval in his voice. I took a bite from the toast. "Don't get me wrong, I am happy to see them both. It's been a while and I miss them a lot. It's just… I've wanted them to come for so long, so we could spend some time together and with my parents, but I just opened my practice and I've barely left my office this week. This is not how I wanted it to be." It sounded like he was angrier with himself than with his wife.

Suddenly I felt guilty, swallowing quickly. "You don't have to spend your time with me, Edward. Go home."

He shook his head vehemently. "No, you're my patient and we have an arrangement. My wife surprised me with their arrival and she knew I was going to have a crazy week. She can't expect me to accommodate my schedule because of her spontaneous decision."

"But I-"

"Don't feel guilty, Bella. If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be."

I nodded, my appetite suddenly gone. "If you're sure."

"Yeah. I'm sure," he said, smiling softly. "Now, eat."

And I obliged. I took another bite, and he watched me for a while, an unfathomable look on his face. "So, why is your wife in Chicago?"

He frowned. Was that a wrong question? "A few months ago, my wife received an offer to be the head of the new pediatric research center here in Seattle. She is a pediatrician, but she focuses on the scientific side of medicine. She has always been very ambitious, and I have supported her as well as I could, but… I didn't want to leave Chicago. It was my home for ten years. I had my practice established there; I had my patients, friends… Later, we came to a compromise. I knew how important it was to her, I didn't want to be the one standing in her way," he said, and I admired him for the sacrifice he'd made. "The research center opens this year in November. Because of my concerns, my dad suggested I move to Seattle earlier and open my practice now so that when the girls come, I will be established and it would make the transition easier for both of them, especially Katie."

"So… now you're here and your wife and daughter are in Chicago?"

"Yes. It was one of my conditions. Katie just started first grade, and I didn't want her to change schools so fast. She's very shy. My wife stayed with her. Besides, she still has work to do there."

I nodded. It made sense. "When are they coming to Seattle?"

"At the end of June, when the school year finishes."

I nodded again, finishing my toast. I took a gulp of my tea. Edward looked a bit upset, and I figured it was because we were talking about his family. So even though I had a million other questions, I zipped it because I didn't want to push him.

"So, why is it that you felt bad this week?" he asked suddenly.

I shrugged. "I don't know. It is like that sometimes," I said. "I am alone most of the time, so that sucks. Also, I have nothing to do at home. Nothing that keeps my mind away from the shitty thoughts I tend to have."

He nodded. "What about Rose and Alice?"

"They have their own lives. We used to spend a lot of time together during the weekends and on Friday nights, but now that Alice is with your brother and with Rosalie's wedding coming up, we don't have as much time as we used to."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you seeing someone?"

I frowned. "No. No, I'm not seeing anyone. You already know that."

He lifted a corner of his lips. "You might have lied...Pasta girl."

I smiled. "I didn't lie about that. Since James, I haven't been with anyone."

He nodded. "Maybe you should start dating."

I almost choked on my toast. "What?"

"Maybe having someone in your life will help you keep your mind occupied. I am not talking about love and marriage, but about simply getting to know someone new. Maybe later you will realize that that 'someone' is the person you want to enter into a relationship with. You would be supported and being in a healthy relationship might be exactly what you need."

I shook my head vehemently. "Don't you see, doc? Healthy is the operative word in that sentence. How can I have a healthy relationship if I am in such a crappy place now? Who would want me? That's out of question."

He frowned in disagreement. "You can't think like that."

"It's true. I need to… Look, I know I am not going to have a normal relationship. Maybe… ever. First, the man who would fall in love with me would have to be an idiot and I can't love someone who's stupid. Second, I don't think I am even capable of love. I never truly loved Jacob and James was a…" I trailed off, tears in my eyes. "He was an idiot and as you can see, even an idiot like him didn't fall in love with me."

Edward didn't respond. His eyes were studying me again, and I was starting to feel uncomfortable. "First of all, he was an unavailable man, Bella."

I shrugged, looking down ashamed. "I know."

"You can't attach yourself to someone like him. He was married and had children. A situation like this is just a ticking bomb. Before you know it, you get hurt," he said, his voice gentle. He wasn't saying it in a condescending way, merely as a concerned friend.

"It was meant to be…" I trailed off, ashamed. Why were we talking about this? He didn't respond but waited for me to continue. "It was meant to just be about sex. I didn't want to fall in love with him. Or whatever it was that I did."

"Bella," he started. "As you said, it was a dependency. You didn't love him. He was just… a means for you to cope with whatever you felt back then. He might have given you an illusion of love and always so neglected, he made you feel better."

I nodded because it sounded just right. I looked up at him. "You're making me cry again."

He smiled softly and handed me a clean napkin. "I apologize. But it is okay to let it out."

I wiped three tears that were lucky to escape. "I know now I was stupid. He used me. I know that. It's just… I am who I am now, Edward. I made this of myself," I said and to emphasize my point, I motioned to my body. "There is no going back. Who would want me? I am damaged."

"We all are, Bella."

"Maybe," I said. "But I am beyond repair. I have nothing to offer. Nothing that is left of me is… worthy of attention, let alone love."

Edward's frown deepened as he listened to me. "What about painting? Isn't that a part of you?"

I smiled sadly. "Not anymore. That Bella died a long time ago."

"You are giving up on yourself so easily."

"And what choice do I have? To give up – to not try – is a safe haven for me. It keeps me from even more pain, it keeps me from failing."

"And it keeps you from happiness, too," he said immediately, his eyes burning a hole in my face. "Life is about taking risks."

I shook my head. "I can't take any more pain, Edward. If I started painting… it just reminds me of who I used to be and who I'm not anymore."

"Bella," he sighed. "Why do you want to be someone who you used to be? Isn't that a step back? You told me about the Bella, a scared girl who was way too afraid to follow her heart. Why don't you discover who you are now and be finally yourself? You have no one to stop you," he said. "No one."

His words were passionate and encouraging and for a while there I believed them. But only for a while. "They can reject me."

"Who?"

"Everyone."

He squeezed his eyebrows. "How do you know?"

"I know," I said simply. "I know that. They rejected me before."

"Do you know who you are?"

I shook my head. "Not anymore."

"I think you know very well," Edward concluded. "It's just the fear that's stopping you."

I swallowed hard. Why was he grilling me so much? "Look, Edward. It's too late for me. It's too late for my dreams."

He sighed. "You're stubborn."

I smiled. "Yeah, I've been told that before."

"What I'm just trying to say is…" he trailed off, and I saw how focused he was on trying to put his thoughts into words. "That I know there is more strength in you than you believe. That it is not going to be easy, but is definitely worth it. If you just give yourself a chance… It is going to be painful, but that's what family and friends are for – to be there for you when it hurts. You have people around you, people who have your back. Don't push them away. You have Alice, Rosalie… you have me. I'll be here for you. Anytime. You just have to trust us and - most importantly -yourself." His eyes were intense, and I didn't doubt for a second that what he was saying was true.

"How do you know I won't scare you away?"

He smiled gently. "If you do, then you have to promise me you won't stop trying. If you scare me away, then I wasn't a true friend. You have to kick people like that out of your life."

I eyed him quizzically. "Even if it was Alice or Rose?"

"Of course. You don't deserve friends like that. Nobody does."

"What if I stay completely alone then?"

"You won't stay alone for long," he said firmly. "Because if you live your truth, you will attract people who belong in your life and who will love you for who you truly are." His eyes were as honest and clear as a bright day. He truly believed every word he was saying and his honesty, his generosity and openness touched me somewhere deep. This man was surreal. This man wasn't from this world. "You have to stop hiding, Bella."

"So, you can finally figure me out?" I asked cheekily.

He chuckled. "Yeah, so I can figure you out." He was quiet for a while but then his voice became serious again. "But no. Seriously, you have every right to kick my ass anytime I make you feel like you can't be yourself around me. Tell me if I offend you; tell me if I make you feel uncomfortable. Stand up for yourself when you're with me. I won't leave. I just want to get to know you."

"Are you planning on doing any of those things?"

He shook his head. "No. I simply know what it means to be afraid of being yourself."

I slowly nodded, but as usual, he didn't elaborate when he mentioned his own life, and how he knew about how I felt. There was something with him, something behind that perfect man. I couldn't possibly even imagine him experiencing anything bad, but sometimes he said something like that and it just made me think what was it that those green eyes had seen before?

"Okay, enough of the heavy," Edward said after a while, sipping his coffee.

"Enough of the heavy? Wow, I am surprised, Dr. Cullen."

He rolled his eyes at me. "Yeah. Well. I have a life, too, as unbelievable as it might sound to you."

I smiled, and we kept looking at each other for a few minutes, caught up in the moment. The minute I realized that, I looked away, searching for a topic we could discuss. "You know, I wouldn't expect you to be a Sponge Bob fan," I said finally, remembering how I had found him in my living room watching Sponge Bob.

"My daughter loves him," he said, and his eyes got that wistful look again. I watched his face carefully. "I am more of a He-Man kind of guy. "

"Oh my god! He-man and Masters of the Universe!"

His eyes widened. "You remember that?"

"Of course, I remember," I said. "I mean, I was little when it came out, but there were reruns of the show. How could I not remember it? How could I not remember She-Ra?"

He whistled loudly. "Oh, I forgot about her. That was madness just how much I used to watch that show. It was my favorite cartoon."

"My favorite cartoon is Sponge Bob. I think I was fifteen when it came out."

"A bit old for cartoons, huh?"

"Maybe," I admitted. "But I was never… normal. Look, I'm twenty-eight and I still watch cartoons."

"True."

"Which tells me that your daughter has impeccably good taste."

He smiled. "Well… she is my daughter."

I laughed. "You really are big-headed, aren't you?"

"Always when it comes to her. She's the best thing that has ever happened to me," he said proudly, and I wanted to cry. His voice, his face, his overall demeanor changed completely at the mention of his daughter and unwanted jealousy rushed through me. Partly because my father had never spoken about me like that and partly because there was no one in the world – particularly not me – who could make his face shine as brightly as his daughter.

"How old is she again?"

"She just turned eight on Tuesday," he said. "That's why I had to cancel our meeting. We celebrated. I apologize again for not letting you know sooner."

"Edward, it makes complete sense," I said. "You should be with your family while they are in town."

He frowned. "Enough of that, Bella. I told you I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to."

Out of nowhere, the waiter appeared at our table, standing too close to Edward. "Would you like to order something?"

Edward immediately tensed, and I felt almost sorry for him. Almost. "No, we're good. Thanks," I said. The waiter nodded, and I just laughed again because the look on Edward's face was priceless.

"We're never coming here again," he said half-jokingly, and I liked how matter-of-factly he said that, as if he was planning on having coffee with me again soon. I liked how he visibly relaxed and how easy the conversation flew between us. There was an apparent tension in the beginning, but it was the waiter and his flirty eyes who had broken the ice.

Edward checked the watch on his wrist and I suddenly felt sad when I realized we had spent almost two hours here and he must have wanted to go home. It was already pretty dark outside.

"I should go," I said first, not wanting him to be the one to finish our… meeting.

"Yeah, me too," he agreed, and we stood up. He helped me into my coat and it surprised me, just like every time he did something gentlemanlike. He insisted on paying the check and while I protested, my efforts were in vain. He paid the waiter who winked at him suggestively and when Edward turned to me returning from the counter, he rolled his eyes. I smiled at him, seeing that same spark in his eyes that had been present for almost the entirety of our conversation, and for some reason, that sight alone made me feel very relieved, content even.

We left the café, and he handed me the receipt. "Turn it over," he said, smirking.

I did so and when I saw a phone number on the other side, I cracked up, shaking my head. "Well, you are a catch, Dr. Cullen. Can't blame the man for trying."

"Am I?" he asked, grinning.

"I-I-" I stammered, realizing what I's said. "I guess. Not entirely my type, but… you know. I understand the appeal." He was totally my type. To the dot. I mean, I hadn't even realized I had a type before him.

He just laughed and didn't respond. He led me to his car and when he asked if I wanted a ride home I said I didn't. Yes, I wanted a ride home, but I was already way too over the line here and if I didn't watch myself, I would say something much more inappropriate.

"Thanks for feeding me, doc," I said to him when he unlocked his silver Volvo.

"You're welcome. Thanks for the chat."

"You're welcome."

"I hope it made you feel a bit better," he said, a hopeful look on his face.

"Yeah," I said. "I liked it better than being in your office. No offense."

"None taken. To take you out of the office is the whole purpose of this isn't it?"

"I guess."

He smiled. "Goodbye, Bella."

"Goodbye, Dr. Cullen."

He nodded and then got into the car. He drove away and I sighed deeply, feeling that this arrangement - this friendship - wasn't such a bad thing.

A/N So, just to let you know, I'm taking a week or two off from writing since I have exams coming and I haven't studied one bit. I will definitely be back, with more chapters I hope. I need to have a break and explore the story in my head before I rush into something that doesn't make any sense. Because this, guys, is going to be the getting-real-close part of the story and it needs to be done properly. It has been sitting in my head since November and I better do the movie in my head justice.

Bear with me. Love ya all who have nice and kind words to say.

R.