1

"Taxi," Bella Cullen yelled, waving her arm in the air as she stood on the curb outside the airport. Her long, dark brown hair cascaded around her arms. "Taxi!"

The solitary yellow and black checkered cab rolled to a stop next to her, the passenger window rolled down with a creak that echoed throughout the abandoned street. The chilly, mid-September air was thick with moisture that hadn't quite made it to the ground yet.

The driver — an older man with wispy black hair and dark narrow eyes — leaned across the seat and, with a thick Italian accent, said, "I'm only taking cash payments."

"That's fine," she muttered as she struggled to keep hold of her suitcase while the bag on her shoulder began to slip. "Can you pop the trunk?"

The driver didn't reply as he leaned back in his seat and pressed a button on his console, causing the trunk to fly open.

Bella dragged her luggage to the back of the cab, biting back an angry retort when she saw the trash littering the small area. It wasn't worth pissing the man off and having to wait for another taxi, especially at two o'clock in the morning. Her flight had been almost completely empty and most of the other commuters seemed to have arranged for their own transportation to their next destination.

Once she had her bags stuffed into the trunk, she closed it and climbed into the backseat, reaching for her seatbelt.

"Take I-43 to Woodbury," Bella told him.

"Woodbury?" he grumbled, turning in his seat and looking back at her. "That's a good hour away!"

"Then, I guess you'd better get started, hadn't you?" she snapped. "I'll make it worth your time, I promise."

"You'd better," the man muttered under his breath, but reached over and started the meter before shifting the taxi into drive and pulling away from the curb.

—RtW—

"Miss," the driver called, shaking Bella from the restless dozing she'd slipped into.

She hadn't fallen asleep, not the deep, warm slumber her body craved, but a light, annoying doze, where you could still hear everything, but you weren't quite aware. Bella had been living each and every day in such a daze, ever sense her world fell apart around her. Twenty-eight days. Twenty-eight days of living without him.

"Miss," he said again, this time an annoyed tone lacing his words. "Miss, I need the address."

"I'm awake," Bella groused. "Take me to 1356 Henderson Drive."

A few minutes later, the driver pulled up in front of the large, red-brick house she had spent her childhood dreaming of leaving. Bella stretched before she opened the car door and climbed out. The driver popped open the trunk, allowing her to grab her luggage, before rolling down the window and leaning toward the passenger side of the car.

Before he could say a word, Bella pulled a couple hundred dollars from her back pocket and tossed them into his hand. "That should about cover it."

"Just about," the driver cackled, rolled the window up, and pulled away from the curb.

Bella bit the inside of her lip before she picked up her bags and turned toward the house. Never in her wildest imagination had she thought she'd be back inside her father's house, yet there she was. Back with her tail between her legs, so to speak. Tears flooded her eyes as the porch light flickered on and the front door open. The sound of the screen door squeaking filled the air and her father stepped out into the porch with what looked like a metal baseball bat in his hand.

"Who's there?" Charlie Swan snarled. "Say something, you damn coward!"

"Daddy," Bella whimpered, not sure if her voice was loud enough for him to hear. "Daddy, it's . . . it's me."

Charlie stumbled down the front steps, the bat slipping from his hand and hitting the ground with a resounding clang that she was sure would wake the neighbors.

"Bella? Honey, what are you doing here? You weren't supposed to get in until the day after tomorrow."

Bella blew out a heavy breath. "I couldn't stay there any longer. The walls felt like they were closing in around me, so I changed my ticket and got an earlier flight." She shifted her eyes up to her father, finding his weary eyes full of concern and pity. "Guess I should have called or something."

"You don't have to call, sweetheart." Charlie pulled her into his arms, one hand resting on the back of her head while the other wrapped around her back. "I'd have picked you up from the airport, though. That taxi had to cost you a pretty penny."

Bella hummed, but didn't say anything. Instead, she pulled away from him, noting the way his dark brown hair was sprinkled with gray. His chin and jaw were covered in stubble that matched the hair on his head. When she was a little girl, she thought her father was a giant, towering over her tiny form, but now, she found him less intimidating.

Charlie grabbed the handle on her suitcase. "Well, let's get you inside before the neighbors call your brother."

"Again," Bella murmured, causing her father to laugh.

"Yeah, again. Jasper won't find it as funny as we do, I'm afraid."

Once inside the house, Charlie leaned her suitcase against the wall and locked the door behind her. Bella stood in the middle of the living room and looked around. Nothing had changed in the ten years since she'd moved out. The beige walls still held the same photographs that had been there since she was a little girl. The ones of her taking her first bath, of her brother's first baseball game, of her dancing in her first ballet recital. Christmas, Thanksgiving, Halloween, family vacations, they were all covered, each immortalized in film. Her mother had insisted on it. Said these were the memories that would carry them through life. She hadn't been wrong. There were just too many bad memories to counteract the good ones.

"I'd offer you some coffee, but I haven't been by the store in a couple weeks," Charlie said, placing his hand on her elbow and drawing her attention to him. "I was planning on going tomorrow. Or today technically."

"It's fine, Dad," she said, trying to smile. "I'm actually pretty tired."

"Okay, honey, let's get you upstairs and into bed."

Charlie grabbed her suitcase before she could and dragged it up the oak staircase. Bella followed, slowly taking each step as if it were about to open and swallow her whole. The upstairs landing was dark, but she knew her way around. Her father pushed open the door to her childhood bedroom, which creaked and groaned from years of being closed off. A flick of a switched caused the room to brighten.

"God, I feel like I'm eighteen again," she muttered under her breath.

"I thought about turning it into an office, or maybe a home gym," Charlie confessed, placing her suitcase on top of the overstuffed chair in the corner of her room.

It was dark purple and matched the color of the walls perfectly. White, lace drapes hung loosely in front of the bay window. The walls were covered in posters of her favorite banks, her shelves filled with every book she had ever read, and for a moment, she could picture him lying on her bed, his arms behind his head as he beckoned her to come to him.

"But, in the end, I just couldn't change it. You know, in case y'all ever came home," he added hastily.

Bella nodded. "Yeah, I know."

Charlie placed his hands on his hips as he turned and looked at her. "I should have stayed and helped you get everything packed up. You didn't need to deal with everything on you own like that."

"I, um," Bella paused, "I just kind of left everything. Some of the guys from his station had already cleared out most of the apartment for me. I just had to get out of there. Felt like I was suffocating."

"Well, you're home now, so you can rest and relax. Let me take care of you." Charlie drew her in for another hug. "I've missed you, Izzy."

"I've missed you, too, Daddy," she whimpered, and she had. More than she even realized.

Charlie pressed his lips onto the top of her head. "Try to sleep, honey. We can talk more in the morning."

Bella nodded and waited until her father had left the room, closing the door behind him before she sat on the edge of her bed, wrapping her arms around her torso. Ten years ago she walked out of this house, away from the man who had raised her, with the thought of the perfect life with the man of her dreams. She'd been a fool.

—RtW—

Bella wandered downstairs the next morning when she heard the sound of her brother laughing. She hadn't slept. Every time she closed her eyes, reality hit her like a ton of bricks, and she found herself on the verge of a breakdown all over again. That had been the story of her life over the last month, though. Ever since the night her world shattered.

Bella's older brother Jasper was seated at the kitchen room table with Charlie and two adorable little blond-haired girls, who were perched on their grandfather's lap.

"Auntie Izzy!" Cassie Swan squealed and leapt from Charlie's lap and rushed around to her. She wrapped her tiny arms around Bella's waist. "Pappy said you were here, but said we had to be quiet so we didn't wake you. Did we wake you?"

"No, no, of course not," Bella reassured the little one. Millie joined her sister. "I cannot believe how big you two are! You've grown a foot since I last saw you."

"They tend to do that over the course of a year," Jasper quipped, towering over the six-year old identical twin girls. The only differences were that Cassie had a dimple in her left cheek and Millie had a birthmark on her right shoulder. "Sorry we couldn't come out with Dad. We wanted to, but Alice had the flu and the girls had just started school."

"It's fine," Bella murmured. "I understood."

Jasper wrapped his arms around her, causing her to whimper and cry. It had been so long since she felt her brother hugging her. They'd always been close, especially after she left them, but Bella had walked away from him, too. Cassie and Millie to groan and pulled themselves out from between them.

"Daddy, you squished us!" Millie whined, stomping her foot.

"I squished you, huh?" he teased, grabbing her and lifting her in the air. "Maybe I should tickle you instead?"

"No!" Millie laughed and wiggled to get free, but he held her tighter.

"Put her down, Jasper," Alice Swan ordered. Curvy, the dark haired with blue eyes woman offered Bella a sweet smile. "Hey, Izzy. How ya doing, honey?"

"I'm . . ." Bella shook her head. "I don't know. I'm here."

"Well, that's good enough for now," she said, her southern accent thick. Alice had grown up in Georgia. She and Jasper met in college and were married a month after they graduated. Two years passed before they welcomed twin girls, who had just celebrated their sixth birthday a few months ago. "I was just about to finish up breakfast. Want a cup of coffee?"

"Um, no, thanks," she said and slid into the chair next to her father. He smiled and draped his arm on the back of her chair.

"Jasper, get the bacon from the warmer and start pouring the girls some milk," Alice ordered, wagging a finger at her husband. "Now, mister!"

"Yes, ma'am," he chuckled, kissing her cheek before yanking the fridge open.

He grabbed the plastic jug of milk and slammed it onto the table, causing the girls to squeal. Once he'd poured everyone a glass of milk, he opened the warming drawer on the oven and pulled out a platter overflowing with bacon. The smell wafted through the air, hitting Bella like a ton of bricks.

Her stomach rolled. Groaning, she slapped her hand over her mouth and scrambled from her chair, out of the kitchen, and down the hallway to the small guest bathroom behind the stairs. She threw the door open with more force than intended seeing as it flew backward and hit the wall hard, and dropped to her knees, barely reaching the toilet before her stomach recoiled and her throat heaved, but seeing as she hadn't eaten in twelve hour, there was nothing in her stomach, which somehow made the sensation of throwing up worse.

"Izzy, honey, are you okay?" Charlie asked, and when she looked over, she found him standing in the doorway of the bathroom. "That was a stupid question, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," she murmured, blowing out a breath of air. "It's worse in the morning."

"It was for your momma, too." Charlie stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He grabbed a wash cloth and wet it before kneeling next to her and sponging the back of her neck. "You're what? Six weeks along?"

"Almost nine," she admitted. "I was going to tell him that night, but, well, I never got the chance."

"Why didn't you tell me when I came out for the funeral?" Charlie asked, bringing the cloth around to her face. "I'd have stayed longer. Helped get things settled. You didn't need to do all of that on your own."

"I wasn't ready to tell anyone." Bella shifted so that she was leaning against the wall, her hands coming down to rest on her abdomen. "I'm having a baby, Dad. My husband is dead, and I'm having a baby all on my own."

"No, you're not," Charlie insisted. "You have me, and you have Jasper and Alice. We're your family, sweetheart. We'll take care of you."

"Carlisle was supposed to be my family," she cried. "He's supposed to be the one to hold me when I'm sick, to take me to the doctor for checkups. How can I do this without him, Daddy? How?"

"You just do."

While Bella knew her father knew all-too-well the struggles that came with being a single parent, she didn't feel comfort in the knowledge that everything would be okay. Her mother had made the choice to abandon her young family; Carlisle Cullen had died in the line of duty.

Thank you for reading the new chapter of my new story. Please, do me a solid and leave me a few words, add it to alerts, your favorites, etc.