A/N: I'm really envious of people who are able to update every week religiously. Unfortunately, I can never make that promise because I'd never be able to keep it. I never know from one minute to the next what my brain is going to being focusing on. When it's solely on writing, it's great, I can punch out chapters like it's no one's business. Sadly, it's often focusing on 1000 other things at once, and it's extremely hard to keep my attention on the things I want to be doing. Or even should be doing. I can be fifteen chapters ahead (like I started out with this one) and I'll still fall behind. ADHD is a real pain in the neck.
Anyway, I hope this chapter makes up for my suckage.

Footprints in the Sand

Chapter 22

"So..." Edward alludes as a smirk lights up across his face, "what's Addie not going to tell me?"

Chuckling lightly, I press myself further against him. While it's cold, it's not just his warmth I'm craving, but the indescribable feeling of being wrapped in his arms.

"You going to tell me?" he prompts against my ear.

My thoughts divert to Addie as a smile immediately tugs on my lips.

Addie... A child who isn't mine, but whom I'm fast falling in love with as equally as I am her father.

I catch a glimpse of her just over Edward's shoulder still fast asleep inside his car. Her flaxen blonde hair spills in a halo around her that almost appears to glow in the moonlight.

I remind myself to tell her tomorrow how her hair is like Rapunzel's. She'll like that.

"Hmm, she said..." stretching on my toes, I imitate what Addie confided in me earlier tonight, "'I think my daddy really does want to marry you.'"

Edward groans lowly to himself, only the smile on his lips doesn't wane. "When she gets an idea in her head..."

"You should probably buy her a puppy or she'll start booking reception rooms for us," I joke as he breaks easily into laughter.

"Bella..." Just my name again, and at times, I'm almost convinced he's saying something else altogether.

"Yeah?"

Pulling me flush against him, he presses his face against my hair. "Thank you for being so understanding today," he says after a moment, his tone taking on an edge of distraction.

"Of course I understand," I reassure him gently, pulling back to properly meet his eyes; they're dark in the dimness of light, but as intense as they always are. "You'd understand if the situation were reversed, wouldn't you?"

"If that happened to you," he begins, drawing me back to him and resting his chin to the top of my head, "and he was still alive, he wouldn't be for much longer."

"So chivalrous," I tease him, as my voice softens inadvertently with tenderness.

He chuckles again. "In all seriousness, I could restrain her. I never let her hit me—head on, at least."

I hum softly in reply, feeling my forehead bunch heavily, but I cannot bear the idea of that horrible woman putting her hands on him, and I can barely picture it in my mind. "Did you ever get therapy?"

"For a little while, but I was so busy with Addie and work, I really had no time to get too invested in it."

"But you're okay, right?" Angling my head, I again search for his eyes, only to discover he's frowning again.

"I'm okay," he covers hastily, his smile a little too forced. "I don't talk about her, and that's the way I prefer it. So, after today, we don't let her..." he doesn't elaborate, but I get it.

"Deal." I shiver, it's beyond my control, and in reaction Edward rubs my shoulders and upper arms in a futile attempt to keep us both warm.

"Sweetheart, it's cold."

"Okay," I say, reluctantly easing from his embrace. "You better get Addie back home."

He hums his breath and nods. "Let's text later tonight. Or would you rather facetime?" He arches a rather shrewd brow that instantly brings the grin back to my lips.

"Whatever you prefer."

"Done," he settles on it, and taking both my hands in his, he brings them to his lips. "Your hands are cold."

"I'm leaving," I assure him, and attempting to breach the height difference between us, I plant my lips briefly to his. "Goodbye, stupidly handsome."

He laughs warmly through his nose, his face lighting up and taking me by complete surprise by how handsome this man really is. "Goodbye, beautiful," he reciprocates, and capturing my face between his very warm palms, he kisses me repeatedly.

When he eventually releases me, I all but stagger dazed and disorientated toward the entrance of my apartment.

"Bella?" he calls after me.

"Yeah?" I ask over my shoulder?

"I'll stop by tomorrow for... lunch," he informs me with a wink as my insides turn to water.

"Lunch..." I repeat, my grin quickly mirroring his. "Sure."

. . .

The instant I close my door behind me and drop to my knee to offload my shoes, my phone rings.

Wrangling it from my purse, I place it to my ear.

Alice.

"My cousin isn't coming!" she bursts in irritation through the receiver.

"Which cousin is this?" I ask, shuffling into my Uggs and flopping onto my sofa with an exhausted breath.

"What's wrong with you?" she asks suspiciously.

"I'm tired," I say as a shuddering yawn erupts from me right on cue.

"Where were you today? I messaged you several times—did you see them?" she asks, beginning to sound concerned.

"Sorry, Al. I was out all day. Edward and I went for lunch, and then... I watched a movie with him and Addie. I literally just got home." I omit anything else, because while I've always confided in Alice about absolutely everything, what Edward told me this afternoon is not something I can ever repeat.

"You sound... weird," she says in scrutiny.

"I'm fine," I insist. "Back to your cousin."

"We meeting for coffee tomorrow?" she puts to me, undeterred.

"Yes," I tease her in monotone. "A bit later, though. Say about two?"

"Mmkay," she says wryly. "Edward coming over for a bit of afternoon delight, is he?"

"Afternoon delight?" I say dubiously, coming close to laughter. "Alice, you're turning into your mother."

"I resent that!" she bursts good-naturedly. "You and Edward okay?"

"We're fine," I put her fears to rest so she can continue venting about her wedding.

We are fine, but I think I understand it now – why he reacts to those two words. He was obviously saying them as much as I do, yet he was everything but fine.

. . .

Question, is how Edward starts his text a few minutes past eight.

Hmm?

Do I satisfy you?

What? You mean sexually?

I mean sexually.

Of course you do. Do you think I'm faking it?

If you are you're very good at it, but no, I don't. I've just come out of a very long dry spell.

I noticed.

Obvious?

I'm kidding. Are you really this concerned about it?

Maybe a little bit.

You have nothing to worry about. Trust me.

It's not something I ever expected him to be so insecure about, and it only adds that much more dimension to him.

That's good to know. What are you up to? He asks after a pause.

Talking to you.

Bella. Just my name again.

Chuckling to myself, I change the subject. How's Addie? She go to sleep okay?

She did.

Can you explain something to me?

What do you want me to explain?

What you said tonight.

You might need to be more specific.

Do you really think I'm too good for you?

I really think you're too good for me.

Why on earth would you believe such a thing?

I tend to believe things that are indisputable fact.

You really have no idea how women look at you, do you?

I am aware, but the same could be said about you.

They look at me because I'm with you. They envy me.

Do you really believe that? Also, I'm not talking about how women look at you.

Edward, are you aware of just how pretty you are?

I think I prefer stupidly handsome.

You're both.

Are you aware how beautiful you are?

No deflecting.

I'm not deflecting. You're so completely unspoiled compared to me. How do you not see that?

Unspoiled? You're making me sound like potatoes again.

You make me laugh. His reply follows several laughing emoji. Did what I said upset you?

Honestly, I thought you were going to pull an "it's me not you" on me.

You thought I was going to end it with you?

For a moment I did.

Bella.

Yeah?

I allow you to get close to Addie. If I didn't want to be with you that would never happen.

I know. It just threw me for a moment.

I get why it'd concern you, though. I never wanted to tell you about my wife.

Do you regret telling me about her?

No. Just try not to ask me too much about her, ok? I was serious when I said I don't like talking about her.

I promise.

Thank you for telling me about your mother too, but you really didn't need to.

I wanted to reassure you that it's not a default setting that mothers and daughters are automatically alike.

I know you did. Why did your parents get married if your mother wasn't interested in having a family?

God, Edward, please don't make me answer that.

I won't make you answer, but I do have a fair idea why.

You do? I'm not sure whether that makes me feel any better.

You're concerned I'm assuming wrong?

No, with you, I'm concerned you're assuming right.

And that concerns you.

It embarrasses me.

This is making you uncomfortable. Let's change the subject.

It's fine, and I'm curious now. What's your theory?

Are you certain you want to hear it?

Positive.

There was a brief encounter, your father got her pregnant and wanted to do the right thing by her.

It's really quite alarming how perceptive you are.

I just pieced everything you've told me about him together.

You must be a very good lawyer. You used to say it all the time, didn't you?

Say…?

"It's fine".

I did. I told you that very early on in our texting. Do you remember?

I sort of recall it. If it was before work, my thoughts are always ten paces ahead of me.

It was. My thoughts are usually the same when I'm distracted with work.

Are you trying to make me feel better?

I am.

You're a sweetheart, but I'm fine.

Promise me something.

Hmm?

Never tell me you're fine if you're not.

Promise.

Good. I need you to explain something to me now.

Okay?

Do you really think I should allow Addie to believe a lie about her mother?

For the meantime, yes. I figured my mother out very early, and it's not an easy thing to grasp when you're eight years old. But my mother is still alive.

I hadn't planned on telling her anything for the short term at least. At the same time, I don't like the idea of lying to her.

I'd wait until she starts to work it out on her own. As she gets older, she'll start paying more attention to the things she hears. It's unavoidable. Until then, you don't need to lie. Just gloss things over. Addie will come to her own conclusions long before she starts asking any questions.

That's what I'm worried about.

But she has you. The world's greatest daddy.

Bella.

Edward. I tease him back.

If I knew you were in Forks all this time, I would have come looking for you when I was 18.

When you were 18 I was 12. My father would have greeted you with his gun.

He replies first with several laughing emoji. I often forget you're that much younger than me. You're definitely not a typical twenty-something. I'm always reminding myself that you're not in your mid-thirties.

That really isn't the compliment you think it is, Edward.

It came out wrong. When I'm with you I never say half the things I really mean.

How do you want me to take that?

What I mean is, you ruffle me, woman.

Calling me woman makes me feel mid-thirties.

You still think I'm patronizing you?

I really can't defend myself when you go all lawyer on me.

This is just how I am.

I know.

Sarcasm?

Maybe just a fraction. How do I ruffle you?

I can't think straight, and I'm constantly torn between wanting your body and getting inside your head.

You're already inside my head. Take my word on that.

Am I? I'm happy to know that. I'd like to be inside your body too.

All the time?

All the time.

One day a boy is going to feel the same way about Addie. How are you going to deal with that?

I'll send her to a convent until she's your age. What are the odds of Addie growing up and the boys not being interested in her at all?

Zero.

I'm going to go grey.

Well, that is a given, Daddy.

Calling me that is having the opposite effect on me than you expect, Bella.

You are so forward.

You are the only woman I know who's ever called me forward.

Would you stop reminding me of that all the time?

He laughs through text again. You're funny.It's true, though. Bella? My name's accompanied by a question mark this time, and that's a rarity for him.

Yes?

As much as I'd love to continue chatting with you, I have a lot of work to do. That call I got after we picked up Addie earlier? It was a huge setback. I'm going to be up all night.

Oh dear, but say no more. See you tomorrow. Will you have time to stop by?

I'll be making time. Around 12?

Sounds good. No working too hard tonight.

I'll try not to. I want you to be completely naked when you open the door for me. Ok?

You realize I have neighbors on my floor, right?

Bella. One day you won't surprise the hell out of me with the things you say, but that's not the case yet.

One day. I'll leave my door unlocked for you. I'll be naked in my bedroom. Deal?

Deal.

Goodbye, Edward.

Goodbye, sweetheart.

Sweetheart... Something the only two significant men in my life have ever called me.

. . .

I'm out the door at ten a.m. the next day for my run. By eleven I reach Mrs. Cullen's picket fence and am greeted by Addie over it.

"Hi sweetie," I say, taking the Twizzler she offers.

The fact that this little girl saved the candy from her party bag to share with me only reinforces the fact that she is the sweetest child in existence, and her father's done an amazing job raising her.

Her hair's free, sans the usual pom-pom beanie, and loose around her shoulders, and after chatting for a few minutes, I offer to braid it.

Her breath draws, her grin turns cheesy, and she quickly produces a bright pink hair tie from her pocket.

I fully intend to braid it over the fence, but she's having none of that, and after unlocking the gate, she grabs my hand and tugs me into the yard, toward the house.

"GRAAAANDMA! Bella's here!" she announces after pulling me over the threshold.

Mrs. Cullen appears from the formal living room with her hair tied in two, rather awry and uneven plaits. It's such a comical sight on such a stern, serious woman that it takes everything I have in me not to immediately burst into laughter.

"Hello, Bella dear," she greets me, her tone resigned as her lips twitch in reaction to my barely concealed amusement.

"Hello, Mrs. Cu..." My voice wavers, but I'm positive she breaks into laughter first. And for the next several moments we both descend further into it, with Addie only glancing between us, a confused knot steadily creasing her brow.

Mrs. Cullen laughs so much she becomes breathless as tears begin to stream down her face, and taking my arm in both of hers, she leads me into the kitchen for a glass of water.

"What's so funny, Grandma?" Addie innocently asks for the infinite time as I braid her hair at the breakfast table.

"Nothing at all, darling," Mrs. Cullen replies only to nearly choke on her water.

"I braided Grandma's hair, Bella," she pipes up proudly, none-the-wiser. "Did I do it good?"

"You did," I assure her, and with Mrs. Cullen's composure broken a second time, mine quickly follows.

It takes at least five attempts to finish Addie's hair, and a cup of tea that I then spill down my cleavage as Mrs. Cullen leads us into one bout of laughter after another.

By the time I leave to return home to shower, my side is in stitches, and I honestly can't recall the last time I laughed so hard and long.

Both Addie and Mrs. Cullen see me off at the door with a hug and a kiss that quickly sobers me, and as I make my way toward my apartment block it's with a humongous grin.

I think Mrs. Cullen finally likes me, and her son is coming soon to have his way with me. My Groundhog Day has definitely hit a positive turn.

. . .

Edward texts at just after twelve to say he's on his way. He arrives only minutes later and after buzzing him through the main entrance, I unlock my front door, make my way to my bedroom, and let my robe fall from my shoulders.

I hear him come through the door and offload his keys, and what sounds like, his phone, wallet and various items of clothing to my kitchen counter before he appears in my doorway.

I'm lying on my side, attempting—and probably failing—to strike a seductive pose.

"Hello, dear, how was your day?" I tease him, watching as his smirk broadens and his pupils dilate as they slowly canvass the entire length of my naked body.

He's wearing only his suit pants and his untucked, partially unbuttoned shirt, and as he moves slowly toward me, he fully removes it. That's when I notice how exhausted he looks; his eyes are bloodshot and shadowed crescents are cast beneath them.

"Hi," he murmurs as he leans over me, his palms embedding into my mattress, before he presses his warm, semi-parted mouth to mine.

"Hi," I manage to articulate when he releases me to cover my throat and bare shoulders in kisses. "How much sleep did you get?"

"None," he answers when his lips return to mine.

"Edwa—"

He has me utterly defenseless, and he knows it. The feel of his body flush to mine is all it takes to distract me and remove all coherent thought from my mind, and for the next several minutes all I can concentrate on is the completely too-overwhelming sensation he draws from me.

It's over all too soon, like it usually is, with him relaxing his heavy, fluid body against me until the rapid pulse of his heart completely envelops the both of us.

"Bella..." he speaks my name in barely a whisper, his breath hot and bated against my still-tingling flesh.

I practically groan in response, pressing my entire face to his chest and breathing in that alluring scent of him, but the way he speaks my name is essentially porn.

Drawing his breath he expels it behind a long, contented groan, and pulling himself off me, he rolls to the side and takes me with him.

He's asleep within moments.

"Edward?" I prod him gently after twenty minutes that's beginning to be accompanied by barely-audible snores.

"Half...an...hour..." he mumbles drowsily.

"'Kay," I reply, bending down to kiss his still-damp temple, before getting to my feet, careful not to disturb him.

I tiptoe around my apartment as I get dressed for my coffee date with Alice, but thirty minutes later, he's no closer to waking.

"Five...minutes," he replies after I attempt to rouse him a second time, but then it's three minutes, then two, and I really have to leave or I'll be late.

"How about I call you in ten?" I suggest, sitting beside him and tucking his wayward hair off his brow.

He only hums breathily, and unable to hold off my smile, I retrieve his phone, place it on the pillow beside him, and exit my apartment for the underground parking lot.

Alice is already waiting in our usual spot at La Marzocco on the leather couch to the right of the room.

"Hey, sorry I'm late. I have a sleeping Adonis in my bed," I explain, bending down to plant my lips to her cheek in greeting.

"No probs," she says cheerfully. "I miss nooners..."

"He practically fell asleep on me," I say, dialing his number as I do. "Hey, sleepy head, this is your wakeup call," I say when Edward picks up only moments before it goes to his message bank.

"I'm awake," he replies, not sounding even remotely convincing.

"Hi, Edward," Alice leans closer to me and announces.

"Hey, Alice," he says, his voice adorably husky and throaty.

"Got time to stop by and join us?" I offer.

"It'll have to be quick," he says, sighing heavily and turning the reception momentarily static.

"Quick's good."

He chuckles this time, sounding only somewhat conscious. "I'll be there soon."

. . .

"Rough night, Edward?" Alice enquires when he drops down beside me, angles his head back, closes his eyes and groans languidly.

"Rough..." he echoes without humor. "You could say that."

His tie's loose, and without thinking, I lean against him to straighten it out.

"Ordered your coffee?" I ask, when he opens his sharp eyes and locks them to mine.

"Hmm," he says, and his smirk's back, so he's definitely lucid.

It arrives a couple of minutes later. He sculls it down in the same insane manner he always does, and with another groan, he plants a clumsy kiss to my forehead.

"I have to get going," he says regrettably against my skin, before pulling himself to his full height, buttoning up his suit jacket, saying a quick "Alice" in farewell to her, and leaves.

"He really does come and go in a whirlwind, doesn't he?" Alice notes.

"To say the least," I say, taking a sip of my cappuccino with shaking hands.

I'm still not prepared for the effect that man has on me.

"Alright, I've given you enough time, now spill," she speaks up after a moment of gauging me.

"Huh?" I turn to her blankly.

"You know what I'm talking about." She quirks a cynical brow.

With a weary sigh, I only fractionally concede. "He told me about his wife, but it's not something I can repeat."

"But," Alice objects before huffing. "Give me a clue."

"Alice," I complain. "It's deeply personal to him, and I'd be betraying his trust if I told you."

"You tell me everything."

"Have you told me everything about your relationship with Jay?" I point out, raising an emphatic eyebrow.

She scowls and decides to barter. "Half a hint."

"You're killing me—no."

"A metaphor," she continues undeterred, becoming frustrated.

"Oh my god. Look... Alright..." I hastily wrack my brain for something to vaguely describe his repulsive wife, when it suddenly comes to me. "Do you remember that time we watched Gone Girl...?" I leave it deliberately open-ended.

"...Yeah," she says with obvious confusion before the penny drops and her eyes immediately widen. "Wait, she was like that psycho bitch?"

"Essentially."

"Poor Edward. I mean, he conceals it so well," she says, frowning to herself with genuine empathy.

"He does," I admit quietly, glancing down at my coffee as my mind drifts.

He's carrying a world a pain, but like so many men, he's got way too much pride.

For the next few minutes Alice is quiet as she no doubt processes this newest piece of information, munching on her almond friand deep in thought.

So much for her diet, but it's not like she's ever kept to one. Or even needed one, for that matter.

"So... he's okay with you working as a labor and delivery nurse?" she breaks the silence, studying my expression closely as she does.

"Why wouldn't he be?" I reply after a moment of failing to work out what the hell she's on about this time.

"He told you how his wife died, right?"

"He did," I answer simply, picking up my mug again and hoping Alice will lose interest in the topic of Edward's dead wife.

"It completely makes sense why he has a huge phobia of hospitals," she adds with half a shrug as if it were inconsequential.

"Alice—what?" I burst becoming impatient before deciding to abandon it and change the subject. "So, any new news on the wedding front?"

She rolls her eyes, and I know my attempt at diversion is a success. "Where do I start..." she mutters.

"Everyone RSVP?" I put to her even as my thoughts betray me and delve further into what she'd just revealed.

Did I hear her correctly? Edward's wife's death is the reason he hates hospitals?

A/N: Another piece of the puzzle.
I hope you enjoyed. Review if you feel inclined, but lurking is fine too. I'm good either way.