3

"Isabella! Isabella!"

Sighing, she rolled her eyes and looked from her phone to the dark haired woman standing in front of her with a makeup brush in one hand and curling iron in the other. "Do I want to know what you're going to do with those?"

The woman smiled. "Probably not, but if you would get your head out of the clouds, we could get you ready for your show tonight, and I could get ready for the hot date that I have. Man is hung like a horse, if get my drift."

Bella cringed. "Angie, why must you continuously talk to me about your love life?"

"Because you don't have a love life," she echoed, tossing the curling iron onto the vanity. "You need to get laid, though. Release all that stress you carry in your shoulders. Just say that word and I'll hook you up."

"Yeah, I don't really need you to find me a hook up, Angie. I've seen the men you fuck," she scoffed, and looked back down at her phone, staring at the picture of Edward Cullen she had pulled up. A quick google search came up with exactly one picture. One from his high school graduation twelve years ago, when he was a gangly red head with bright green eyes, and freckles.

"Oh, who is that?" Angie asked, moving so that she was standing next to her. "Kind of young for you, don't you think?"

"It's an old picture," Bella said.

"So he isn't too young for you," she added with a smirk before she grabbed Bella's phone. "Who is Edward Cullen?"

"Nobody." Bella grabbed her phone back shoving it under her leg as she looked into the mirror. "Tell me again why I do this."

"Because you are Isabella fucking Swan, superstar." Angie wrapped her arm around the back of her chair, being careful not to touch her. It was a widely known fact that Bella didn't like being touched. Ever. "You okay, sweetie? You seem off tonight."

"I'm fine," she lied. "Just tired. Been a long few months. Lots of traveling, you know?"

"Yeah, we all could use a few days off. I'm going to get started now, all right?"

Bella nodded, bracing herself for the feel of Angie's touch. She never got used to it, and she couldn't even explain why the feel of people's hands on her made her uncomfortable. She just had never liked people touching her, not even him. More than once someone had brushed against her on accident, barely touching her, and she'd go into a full on panic attack. Years of mediation and focus had taught her to be cautious, careful, and even protective. Especially seeing as she had spent much of the last five years in the spotlight.

An hour later, Angie had transformed her into a gorgeous rock star, as she put it. Her make-up, something she never wore unless she was going on stage, was dark and smoky. She had shoved her ass into a pair of tight, black leather pants and a silver tube top that made her breasts look bigger than they actually were. Her hair smooth, silky and framing her face in a way that made her look like someone else. The persona she was portraying every time she stepped onto the stage, the sexy, confident star the world wanted her to be. Bella just wanted to sing. They wanted her to perform.

Rosalie came hurrying into her dressing room, closing the door behind her, and leaning against the thick wood, shutting out the noise on the other side. She tilted her head back and smiled. "He's on hold."

Biting the inside of her lip, she stretched her hand out, tensing as Rosalie's fingers brushed her palm as she placed the phone in her hand. She pressed the hold button before bringing the phone up to her ear, and saying, "Hey."

"Hey," he murmured. "You ready?"

"Am I ever?"

"You always are," he replied. "Wish I could be there."

"Me too."

"Liar," he snickered, and she laughed because he knew her better than anyone. "I miss you, though. Been too long since I've seen you."

"I miss you, too." That wasn't a lie. She did miss him, even if she couldn't handle him being there. "Shows about to start."

"Call me after?"

"Yeah, maybe. It'll be late, so . . ."

"I'll wait up."

"Tell me again," she whispered.

He sighed, but said, "Do it for you, Bee, not for them."

"Thanks. I needed to hear that tonight."

"You're welcome. Promise you'll call after your show."

"I promise."

Bella held the phone back to Rosalie, who brought it to her ear, but didn't reply to anything that he was telling her. If he thought for one second she needed him, he would be there. He had been every day since she was five years old.

Rosalie ended the call and put a smile on her face, one that didn't quite reach her eyes as she looked over at Bella. "It's time, Bee."

Bella closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before she nodded. Rosalie reached for her arm, though she didn't actually touch her as she turned and opened the door, leading her into the hallway. They made their way behind the band, a group of studio musicians she had been playing with for the better part of the last three months.

The sound of the crowd was deafening as they stood stage side, watching her opening band belt out the last several notes of their last song. Like the band, they had opened for her for the last three months, but she didn't know them, not really. It was easier, she told herself, not to get attached. They, like others before them, would move on to the next step in their careers, just as she had when she was new on the scene.

"Thank you, L.A.!" the lead singer, a tall thin woman with long black hair and delicate features shouted into the microphone. "Now, for the woman we're all here for . . . Put your hands together for Isabella Swan!"

As the band hurried out onto the stage, and the opening act hurrying off, Bella brought her hand up to the silver locket around her neck. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath before she put her game face on and hurried out onto the stage, grabbing her guitar and strapping it on.

"Hello, L.A.!" she exclaimed into the microphone. "How is everyone tonight?"

The sound of their roaring cheers filled the concert hall, causing her to smile wider. She shifted her eyes around the two thousand people, stopping when she saw the man seated in the front row, left side of the stage. The man with the wild auburn hair and bright green eyes. He was staring at her with an intensity that caught her off guard, but before she could think, the band started the introduction for her first song. She tore her eyes off Edward Cullen and started her show.

—TB—

"Thank you for a great show! Until next time, keep it real!"

Bella waved at the crowd once more before she hurried off stage, bypassing Rosalie and almost sprinting to her dressing room. However, before she could close the door, Rosalie was following her inside.

"Bee, what's wrong?"

"Did you know he was going to be here?"

"Know who was going to be here?"

"Edward Cullen!" she all but yelled, and when Rosalie reached for her, she put her hands up in front of her, taking a step backward. "Did you, Ro? Did you know?"

"Of course not, but it's not really all that surprising, is it? We did just hire him to protect you. I'm sure he's working your case, or whatever the proper term is." Rosalie tilted her head to the side. "Why are you so worked up about this, Bee?"

"I'm not," she lied, shaking her head. "I just wasn't expecting him. I don't know." Bella inhaled a deep breath through her nose, exhaling slowly though her mouth. "I'm okay. I'm . . . I'm okay."

"Yeah, you seem completely, one-hundred percent okay to me," she quipped, pulling out her phone. "I'm calling him. Telling him you need him here yesterday."

"Don't do that!" Bella hurried over, grabbing her phone from her and throwing it against the wall, wincing when it broke. "Shit, fuck."

"That's great, Bee. Just great."

"I'm sorry, Ro." Bella whimpered as she sat on the small sofa. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

Rosalie sighed and walked over, sitting next to her. Slowly, she reached out, covering her hands with hers, ignoring the way she tensed. "You really weren't bullshitting earlier when you said you were tired, were you?"

She smiled weakly. "No, I wasn't."

"I'm sorry, Bee. We've been pushing you too hard. And with everything else going on, I should have seen the signs."

"I just . . ." Bella shook her head. "I don't know. I'm sorry I broke your phone, Ro."

"I was thinking about upgrading anyway," she said, smiling. "Let's forget the signing tonight."

"You know we can't do that," she argued. "The label would have our ass."

"Fuck the label," she quipped.

Bella shook her head. "Just give me a minute. I'll be okay."

"All right. Just let me know when you're ready."

Rosalie released her hands, and leaned backward, but Bella could feel her watching, making sure she wasn't going to fall apart. It had been a while since she felt herself lose control like that. Bella closed her eyes, leaned forward, and took several deep breathes, just as he would be telling her to do, if he were there. He'd be kneeling in front of her, his hands on either side of her face, her hands on his chest as she tried to match his breathing. It was a technique he had taught her when she was little and she'd wake up in the middle of the night screaming about monsters who didn't know.

"I'm ready now."

"Let's go."

Rosalie was on her feet and by the door before Bella could stand. As she stood, she clenched her hands into fists and walked over to her, knowing it was important that she keep herself together. Her fans deserved her to show up, to sign every scrap of paper they put in front of her, and she would. Every last one of them, even if she hated every minute of it. She would do it because that was the price she paid to be Isabella Swan.

—TB—

Her hand was starting to hurt, she had signed her name so many times that her palm had started to cramp. She smiled and thanked each and every one of them for coming to her show, for loving her music, for loving her, and a part of her meant every thank you she gave, but another part of her hated them for expecting her to give more of herself than she wanted.

The crowd was starting to thin, only a couple handful of people were hanging around when she saw him. He was standing against the wall, watching her. There was a tall, bulky man with curly brown hair and bright blue eyes next to him. He looked bored, while Edward was staring at her. She tried not to look at him, tried not to stare, but she found herself peeking in his direction as the last of her fans asked for her signature. Finally, the last person had left and she pushed herself out of her chair, standing up, but before she could move toward him, Edward grabbed the shirt of the man next to him and dragged him down the hallway, away from her.

"Come on, Isabella," Rosalie said, placing her hand on the back of her elbow, causing her to pull away. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she murmured, looking at her best friend. "You saw him, right?"

"I did," she admitted. "Let's go. It's late, and you still need to call him."

Bella sighed.

"He made me promise that you would call him. He's worried about you."

"I know he is." Bella nodded. "Okay, let's get out of here, and I'll call him when I get home."

"You want me to stay over? I don't mind," she offered.

Bella shook her head. "I'm fine, Ro."

"Okay, Isabella, if you're sure."

By the time Rosalie dropped Bella off at her house, it was almost midnight. She let herself in, waving Rosalie off before closing the door and setting the alarm. Bella kicked her shoes off next to the door, dropping her keys inside the right shoe, just as she always did, before she walked through the dark house and into her bedroom. She closed the door to her bedroom and changed into a pair of sweatpants and one of his shirts, the same one she had been wearing since she was five years old. She only wore it on the bad nights, when she forced herself to stay awake, knowing if she slept she would have nightmares.

She climbed onto her bed, and picked up her phone, calling him. The phone had barely rang when he answered, "I was getting worried."

"I told you it would be late."

He laughed. "I know, but I was still getting worried." He paused. "It was a good show. Maybe one of the best you've had."

"I knew she was going to livestream it for you," Bella scoffed, pulling her knees up to her chest. "The crowd was energetic."

"They were, but you were great. Almost looked like you were enjoying it."

"I almost was," she quipped, dragging her free hand through her hair. "It's been worse lately."

"Just at night? Or all the time?"

"Mostly at night," she admitted. "But sometimes I'll be in the studio, or in the car with Ro, and it feels like . . . I can people touching me."

"Have you told her?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because she's already freaking about the letters," Bella groused. "If I tell her I can feel phantom hands on my body, she'll probably have me committed."

"She worries about you," he argued. "I worry about you."

"I know."

"She said you agreed to hire someone."

"I didn't have a lot of choice, seeing as you two conspired behind my back."

He laughed. "Don't feel bad about it. You're too stubborn for your own good."

"Yeah, so I've been told."

"I can come down, Bee. Just say the word and I'm there."

"You do too much for me as it is."

He sighed.

"If it gets worse, I'll let you come. I just . . . Tell me about your day."

"Bee," he muttered and she could almost see him shaking his head. "I was up early. Spent an hour on the treadmill before spending another hour on the elliptical. After that, I headed out to check the perimeter. Came back and made breakfast. Eggs, bacon, toast. Oh, and coffee of course."

"Of course. Can't go without coffee. Who needs blood in your veins when you have coffee."

He laughed. "All right, smartass."

"What did you do after breakfast?"

"What do I usually do after breakfast?"

This time, she sighed.

"Fine, fine, you win," he groused. "After a hearty breakfast, I saddled Duke up and we checked on the cattle, as I always do, and then I came back to the house. Needed to reinforce my supplies, so I headed into town. Stopped at the hardware store, the post office, and the grocery store before stopping out at the cemetery. Hadn't been out there in a while."

Bella sniffed back the tears that filled her eyes.

"Hey, don't cry, Bee."

"I'm not," she whimpered. "It's late. I should let you go."

"I don't mind talking for a while longer, if you need to."

"I'm fine," she whispered, tightening her arm around her knees. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"Promise?"

"I promise." She brought her hand up to the silver locket hanging around her neck. "Thanks, though. I love you."

"I love you, too. Goodnight, Bee."

Bella ended the call, dropping her phone on the bed as she opened the locket, staring down at the picture of the little girl with long brown hair on one side and the little boy with bright red hair on the other side. Every night for almost twenty-five years, she found herself staring at the pictures of the two little kids. Every night, she wondered who the little boy was, who she was, and why they had been sitting on the floral couch together.

Thank you for all the AMAZING reviews! I love all the theories!