AN: This chapter, the first since chapter 1, is one that Tami and I collaborated on directly. She has taken BPOV and I've taken EPOV, as usual. Couple of details. First, there is a small quote from chapter 1, in here, when they first meet. Yes, I am plagiarizing my own work. Second, the italics in the latter part of what Edward is reading, if you get confused.

Thanks to TheEdwardEmmett for being so supportive. Check out his story, TWICON SEDUCTION (link on my profile).

BPOV

I laid my head down on Edward's chest again, snuggling closer to him, savoring the moment. I knew it wasn't going to last. My decision was made, had been for at least an hour. I just needed to get my body and heart to go along with my mind.

I'd been able to ignore the churning of emotions I was experiencing since Alice had calmed me after the press found out about Edward and I; to push the doubts out of my mind and concentrate on being there for him and cheering him on as he became the greatest Olympian ever. But the minute he'd proposed to me, they'd all come rushing back. I believed Edward when he said he loved me and I knew that he cared about me deeply. Perhaps I would have said yes immediately despite how quickly everything had happened if there wasn't so many more things bothering me. I couldn't deny to myself that I was in love with him, that I didn't know how I was going to live without him, but I knew it had to be done.

We came from two very different lives. My life was quite simple, a journalist trying to prove herself in a cutthroat business, nothing really exciting or spectacular there. Then I'd met Edward. His life was anything but ordinary, filled with strenuous workouts, swim meets, press interviews, and features on covers of magazines. I didn't know how I would ever fit in, or get used to it. While I was sure that I would be able to deal with the press, at least for awhile, I also wondered what would happen once we had children. Would our children be sucked into the madness that was Edward's life? Would they be expected to be a swimming prodigy at an early age, or followed by the press for their every accomplishment? And what if a child of ours took after me, possibly the clumsiest human ever to walk the face of the earth? Poor, poor child.

Despite all that, I could deal with it. Who knew if we could even have children, and the press could be dealt with. Maybe they'd even fade away after awhile, only to return during the big competitions. What really frightened me was what was going to happen when Edward finally realized how different we were, when the stress of the Olympics died down and everything returned to normal. We'd go back to our normal lives—Edward to his invitations for glamorous events and propositions from glamorous women, and he'd realize that maybe he could do better than me, that he could find someone that fit him and his lifestyle better. I couldn't help but think that our relationship had developed so quickly, in a stressful, pressure filled environment where emotions could snowball rapidly. I worried that once he was back to his life, he'd realize that I wasn't what he wanted, and I'd be devastated. It was better to cut my losses now and make the decision to leave on my own, rather than be hurt even worse a few months down the road. Edward might be crushed at first, but he would soon come to know that we would never have worked out.

So, I had to go, now before he woke up. If he asked me to stay, I knew that I would never have the willpower to deny him. I wiggled out of his arms, relying on his famous ability to sleep through anything. He grunted and turned over in his sleep and I paused, before looking around for my clothes. I pulled my clothes on and shoes, then looked around. Spying Edward's t-shirt hanging on a chair, I grabbed it. I knew I was technically stealing, but I didn't care. I needed something of his to keep with me through what I knew was going to be some very long nights ahead. Spying a small notepad and pen I wrote a simple goodbye.

I'm sorry.

Bella

I took one last look at him sprawled on the bed and my heart twisted. I wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed with him, wake him up, and shout yes to his proposal. Instead I turned away, brushing tears out of my eyes as I tiptoed out the door.

By the time I reached my hotel room, I was incoherently sobbing. Somehow I wasn't surprised to see Alice standing outside my door, a look of pity and disappointment on her face. Instead of lecturing me like I knew she wanted to, she folded me in her arms and comforted me while my heart broke. When I finally calmed down enough to talk, she led me to sit on the bed and stood in front of me. "What happened?" she asked, and despite my resolve to stop crying, new tears welled up in my eyes.

"I left. It wouldn't have worked between us and I had to stop it now before it was even harder to say goodbye," I wailed. Alice nodded, but kept to herself whatever it was she wanted to say.

"I'm sorry," she finally answered, "I think he's perfect for you personally, but ultimately the decision if up to you."

"I need to change my ticket. Now. Today. I can't stay in this city another minute," I finally said.

"I'll arrange it with the airlines. Jasper and I will come too, if you want. Why don't you change your clothes and pack?" Alice directed, and I sighed in relief.

"You don't have to come too, Alice. You and Jasper enjoy the last few days you have here. I'll be fine," I assured her. Really, I just wanted to be alone.

She studied my expression, finally realizing I was determined and nodded her agreement. "We'll drop you off at the airport"

Two hours later, I was on my way to the airport. I'd showered and changed my clothes, but I knew I looked awful. I felt as if I was leaving a part of me behind, something I wouldn't have thought possible in a week's time. It's better this way, I reminded myself, refusing to allow my resolve to weaken. Alice and Jasper both hugged me at the gate telling me to call as soon as I got home. I nodded and walked away, not wanting to say anything for fear I'd start crying again. I was determined to hold myself together, at least until I got to my apartment and away from the world.

It had been four days. Four days since I'd taken that last look at Edward Cullen and walked out of his life. I alternated between regret for my actions and anger at myself for falling so hard for him. Why did I ever let myself get that close to him when I'd known all along it would end in heartache? I knew the reason for that. He was utterly irresistible and drew me like a moth to a flame. After holing myself up in my apartment since the return and shutting off my phone to the outside world, I'd descended into a depression the depths of which I hadn't thought were possible. I didn't care about eating, showering, dressing. Instead, I just sat in numb silence day after day.

It was time for a change. Time to come out of my hole and face the world once again. This was my decision after all, and I had a job to quit and a phenomenal article to write. I'd contacted Time Magazine and they'd agreed to buy my story. Now I had to get it written and it had to be perfect. I owed Edward that much. But first, it was time to pay a visit to Laurent. I took a long shower, applied more makeup than usual to cover up the lack of sleep I'd been getting, and dressed in my best girl power suit. I was ready.

I drove over to work and marched determinedly into Laurent's office. He was sitting at his desk talking on the phone and he raised his eyebrows at my entrance, an annoying smirk on his face. I folded my arms and tapped my toe, doing my best impression of an impatient Rose, hoping he'd get the point. It seemed to work. "I need to call you back later," he said to the person on the other line, then hung up looking at me with curiosity.

"So, our star reporter has returned," he said in that slimy way of his. "I assume you have that article ready to hand in?" I almost sneered, but held back, trying my hardest to stay as professional as I could.

"Actually, I came to hand in my resignation letter. I quit," I said, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders at my words.

Now I really had his attention. He sat up, back ramrod straight in his chair as a frown began to form on his face. "What?" he asked, his voice growing louder with each word. "You can't quit! You have to write that article and believe me Bella, I will make it hell for you to find another job!" The usually self assured Laurent actually looked worried that he might not get his way for once.

"Actually, I'm sure I will be able to get a great job based off the merits of the article I'm writing for Time," I told him, almost smugly. He gaped at me, speechless for once in his life.

"Wha-what do you think you're doing?" he finally asked, and I could only smile at his shock.

"I refuse to work for someone with such immoral and unethical standards. It's not all about getting a story, and screwing with your own reporters for one is just too much, so I'm done," I stated emphatically, feeling better for the first time in days.

"Don't think you are going to get a good employee recommendation from me," he snarled, his face reddening as he grew more and more angry.

"I was never expecting it." I threw my resignation letter on his desk and walked out the door finally free from a boss I'd always disliked and a job I had been beginning to suspect I'd never advance in.

As soon as I was out the door, I pulled out my cell phone. It was time to call Alice. I'm sure she was worried about me. She'd come over to my apartment the night before knocking and hollering my name before she gave up and finally entreated me to call when I was ready.

"Bella," she said as soon as she picked up the phone, "are you okay? Do you need me to come over? I can be there in a few minutes."

"Slow down, Alice," I said. "I'm not even at home right now. I actually just quit my job, and I'm headed home to start work on the article. I'm really not up to talking right now, but I will call later, I promise. I just need a little time and space."

"Bella, you know Edward was heartbroken right?" she asked hesitantly.

My heart jumped at hearing his name spoken aloud. "He'll get over it. It won't take him long," I surmised. Alice just sighed on the other end as if she didn't believe me.

"I doubt that. He's probably waiting for you to come to your senses and admit you can't live without him," she countered. I snorted at that thought. He probably had tons of girls already waiting in the wings, vying for his attention. I doubted he'd be lonely for much longer. If anything, knowing him as well as I did, he was probably quite angry with me, thinking that I'd used him.

"You really need to work on your self-confidence," she stated, but thankfully let it drop. We said our goodbyes and rather than contemplate on her words any longer I turned up the radio. Some angry sounding rock music was on, fitting my mood perfectly as I drove home.

Once I was home, I turned on the news wondering if anything had happened while I was secluded. The first headliner was about Olympic swimming and I almost turned it off, but the large picture being shown of Jacob Black deterred me. As the story unfolded, I could hardly believe what I was hearing. It seemed that despite Jacob's unwavering insistence that Edward was doping, it turned out that his self righteous attitude was merely a ploy to turn suspicion off of him. He had tested positive for doping himself and was going to be stripped of his medals. I couldn't help but cheer inwardly that he'd gotten his comeuppance. Somehow it seemed fitting that the man who'd worked so hard to make Edward's Olympic experience miserable was finally getting his payback.

I sighed and turned off the news. It was time I kept my word to Edward and his parents and wrote that article. I turned on my laptop and sat on the couch, contemplating how best to start. I remembered all the conversations we'd had, our first meeting, his trust in me to share his deepest secrets, and the way I'd felt in his arms. Suddenly I knew exactly what I was going to write.

EPOV

Never in a million years had I thought that the 2008 Beijing Olympics would be a source of such joy and on the other side of the coin, such unendurable pain.

Ever since Bella had walked out the morning after our amazing night together, I hadn't been able to take even the slightest interest in the endless parade of celebratory events. For once, even, Carlisle hadn't lectured me about my lack of gratitude.

It was almost as if he'd finally understood what I'd loved and lost and that no matter how much I was celebrated for being one of the greatest Olympic swimmers ever, deep down, I was still unbearably alone.

After nights of sleepless contemplation, I'd finally come to the conclusion that Bella had either 1) pretended to like me in order to get a better story or 2) she'd cared about me, but not enough to take the endless media circus that followed my every move. Either way, my proposal had obviously scared her off, and deep down, I couldn't even bear to blame Bella.

In retrospect, the proposal, while at the time seeming like a fantastic idea that enabled me to secure Bella for all time, had been exactly the opposite. So despite my brain wanting to call her a lying, disloyal bitch, my heart couldn't bear the thought that she'd betrayed me. So I bore the full load of the guilt for Bella's departure on my own shoulders.

We were just about leave Beijing to fly to London, where I'd pass on the Summer Olympics baton. Standing in the Beijing airport, I couldn't help but be reminded of the first conversation I'd ever had with Bella—when she'd run me over with her luggage cart and weaseled her way into my heart so effortlessly I'd been left simply gaping after her.

The flash of pain was, by now, routine, but this time it was stronger. Harder. So bad that I was beginning to think that maybe this wasn't something I could legitimately get over. I had been so sure that Bella was the girl for me, that it was incredibly difficult to even comprehend me meeting someone else who could fill the gaping crater that was left of my heart.

"Oh me? I'm fine. Though if Carlisle had seen you do that, you might have been locked up in a Chinese dungeon."

"Run over your toe?"

"You obviously know who I am."

She rolled her eyes at me, a bit sarcastically I thought. "Uh yeah. You're pretty famous

"What? What's so bad about being famous?" she countered to my actions.

In answer I pointed to the shiny white badge I had grown to despise. I could barely keep the scowl off my face.

"You hate the press?"

"Are we off record?"

"Of course, do you really think we'd be on the record after I cause a whole glassful of water to be spilled on you and then I run over your golden toe with my luggage?"

I sighed in relief. "Really, its fine." I replied, not quite able to contain my own smile of relief.

"It better be, if I was responsible for killing your toe right before the Olympics I'd get tarred and feathered and run out of town."

Finally she'd left me with an opening to show my interest! "I'd never allow that," I told her, hoping that she would notice how much I meant it.

Suddenly, a strange look crossed her face. She looked...worried or incredulous, I wasn't sure which. "Well, good" she said almost hesitantly to me.

"Edward?" Esme asked kindly, breaking my reverie, "do you need anything before we get on the plane?"

Yes, I did need something. My heart back. Bella back in my arms. Now.

Instead of again ranting at my poor mother about my missing sanity, I simply shook my head, but somehow my eyes must have communicated my feelings, because Esme put her arm around me.

"I'm so sorry," Esme murmured, and I hated the pity in her voice almost as much as I relished her sympathy.

"Let's just go get on the damn plane," I barked, pushing the luggage cart forward, and trying desperately, but in vain, to forget the last time I'd been in this very spot.

Our flight to London was uneventful, and the event typical in its over-the-top celebratory way. I went through the motions, and was probably very good at it, but Esme knew, and her sad eyes followed me as I took pictures with fans and signed hundreds of autographs.

I was lying in bed after when there was a quiet knock on the door. I almost yelled at her to please for the love of God, leave me be, but the manners Esme had ingrained in me barely prevented me from making such an ass of myself.

The door opened and Esme stepped inside, a worried expression creasing her forehead.

"Edward, there's something you should see."

"What?" I asked listlessly, literally not caring at all. Without Bella, after all, what was there to truly care about? Swimming records? Races? Promotional deals?

I would leave all of that behind if only I could have Bella back with me tonight.

She hesitated, just for a split second, and that told me all I needed to know. Somehow, she had news of Bella. Every particle inside me shrunk until I felt like I was prostrate on the floor with grief, but in reality, I managed to stay upright, looking Esme straight on in the eye like Bella was nothing to me.

"Bella's article was published. We were sent an advance copy."

Dread coalesced inside me. I almost couldn't choke the words out. "Where?"

"It was published in Time."

We'd expected the article to initially be published in the Oregonian, Bella's newspaper, and then picked up by the wires. This new change of plans was puzzling and worried me. I hoped, even with all my anger and resentment at her for leaving, that Bella was not in trouble.

I held my hand out for the magazine, and cursed that there was a noticeable tremor. I might pretend like everything was okay, but in reality, I felt that with each minute that went by without Bella, I fell to pieces a little bit more.

My fingers slid sweatily along the slick, glossy pages, and I nearly ripped a few of them in my haste to reach Bella's article.

I told myself that even if Bella had expurgated our entire relationship into the pages of Time, I could probably still forgive her. In fact, I nearly expected her to.

So when I finally found it, nearly in the middle of the magazine, accompanied by large photographs of me, in the pool and out, and even some with my arms around Bella, I felt the breath whoosh out of me like I'd been punched.

I hesitated for a second, and more than anything, I wanted to put the article down and leave it unread—leave Bella's real motives unknown. But I knew I couldn't. I had to know what she really thought of me.

Holding my breath, I started to read.

The first time I met Edward Cullen, I ran over his foot in the Beijing Airport.

The first line alone had my stomach in literal knots. I knew then that this was going to be all about our relationship. I told myself, again, that I shouldn't be surprised. Her leaving me and not even bothering to say goodbye had told me everything I'd needed to know already. Bella, while excellent at playing the innocent and naïve reporter, apparently had no scruples about getting the real scoop.

I continued on.

Despite endangering him bodily, he was the epitome of grace and class. He admitted he didn't like reporters ,which is why I was completely taken aback when the Cullen family asked me to write the real story on Edward Cullen.

What follows is what I observed over the weeks I shared with Edward and his family. He truly felt blessed every race he won, and never did he feel like the gold medal was a foregone conclusion. In short, he was humble and always gracious.

Many of you may have seen the pictures of us together and I will say that at some point, a romantic relationship did exist between us, but I feel neither prepared to comment on this or willing. I want to focus on the Edward Cullen that has fascinated the entire nation: Edward the swimmer.

First and foremost, Edward Cullen loves his father, Carlisle . . .

I slowly lowered the magazine and stared in astonishment and utter shock. Bella had not sold me out. Bella had refused, in fact, to comment on our relationship.

In fact, she had even said she was "not prepared."

I rolled this phrase around my head for at least five minutes, trying to think what she could possibly mean by this and it struck me that perhaps, just perhaps, the ring had scared Bella away.

What if she had left not because she wanted to, but because my precipitous action had terrified her?

There was a clear and possibly deep affection radiating from her words. Though she steadfastly did not mention our relationship once, it was hard not to see from the article that she cared, and perhaps even cared deeply.

I read Bella's article fifteen times by my count, and stayed up all night thinking about what her words could mean. By morning, I was still unsure as to her feelings, but I did know one thing. I was going to have to ask her myself. After the article, I couldn't bear not to ask.

I met Esme and Carlisle downstairs for breakfast, and though I hadn't slept, I felt jazzed and ready to take on the challenge of confronting Bella with the emotions that were so rife in her story. But first, I had to tell Carlisle that I would be leaving London and that meant, canceling the rest of my appearance here. No doubt he'd be furious but I refused to budge. I would go after Bella.

Halfway through breakfast, I had finally gathered up enough courage to confront my father, and ignoring the rest of the eggs on my plate, I looked him straight in the eye. My serious expression must have been evident because Carlisle put his coffee cup down and looked back rather quizzically.

"What is it, Edward?"

"I'm leaving London. Today." I glanced at my watch casually. "In two hours, actually."

Esme gasped and it was only through sheer strength of will that I was able to keep my eyes glued to Carlisle's. I couldn't back down. Not now.

"What?" He looked angry and he sounded even angrier.

"I need to go after Bella."

I felt my mother's sympathetic stare on me, but I still didn't take my eyes off my father. His expression had morphed from grim to somewhat . . .thoughtful.

Not good, yet, but not bad either.

"You know," he said, "canceling those events will result in bad press."

"I know. And I'll reschedule, but I can't do them today. Or tomorrow. I have to go find Bella."

Strangely, Carlisle didn't address my statement, and instead he said, "I read her article. It was excellent. Exactly what we'd had in mind. I suppose you could handle a bit of bad press with that article in Time magazine."

My argument exactly, but I was glad Carlisle had brought it up and I hadn't had to.

"I don't care about press; I never have," I told him shortly. "I will, however, honor my obligations."

"Naturally," Carlisle answered. "Well, Esme?" He looked up at her with, to my complete shock, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Shall you call Rob and have him make the cancellations?"

I couldn't believe how relaxed Carlisle was about the whole situation. I had been so sure that I'd have to fight his wishes and that I would probably end up defying him. Him agreeing had been the last thing I'd expected.

"Edward," he continued, as Esme left the table with a huge smile in my direction, "I was incredibly proud of you when you won the gold medals. Incredibly proud. But I think maybe I am prouder right now. Go catch your flight and give Bella our best."

"I will," I told him, and turned to go but paused and turned back. I had to tell Carlisle. "The night before the last race, I thought about losing, on purpose. I didn't think I could beat your record. Bella told me I was wrong."

Carlisle smiled. "You'd be a lesser man than I think you were if you didn't question it. But thank you, son. It means a lot to me. And Bella, she's got a good head on her shoulders—don't let her get away."

"I won't," I promised.

FYI: This is the second to the last chapter. So that means we will have one more chapter after this plus an epilogue. I know a lot of you are wondering what Bella and Edward's life will be like after the media frenzy calms down--at this point, neither Tami or I have discussed the possibility for a sequel, and I think that both of us are happy with ending it like we have planned. We'll keep you posted.