As always, thanks go out to all my readers, with a special shoutout going to the amazing reviewers who left comments on chapter 3: chellekathrynnn, Goldielover, leelee202, Ruiniel, leward1992, Guest, and Synphonia.

If this story had a soundtrack, the song for this chapter would be "Chrysalis" by S. Carey.

CHAPTER 4

HEART-SEARCHING

Evan had fallen asleep at her bedside, his elbow resting against the arm of his chair, his cheek propped against his fist.

Having just awakened, Bella regarded him for a quiet moment, her rueful eyes skimming over his features. His jaw was strong and angular, his lower lip fuller than the upper one. Because his head was tipped slightly forward, a lock of his hair had fallen over his brow, making him seem slightly younger than his thirty-two years.

When he had first approached her, one sunny afternoon, in a small café in downtown Seattle, Bella's first thoughts had been that he was handsome, bold and confident, too.

"Fun fact about Seattle…" Those had been his first words to her, spoken as he had walked up to her table. When he had plopped down on the chair directly across from hers, Bella had blinked at the sudden intrusion.

"Do you know it's the most literate city in America?" he had gone on to say, indicating the book in her hand. "We have the most bookstores and libraries per capita. And we have the most library card holders. There's a lot of smart people here."

He had flashed a lopsided smile then, one she had found both charming and disarming.

"I take it you like to read?" she had stammered, then gathered herself.

"Depends on the type of reading. Books like the one you're reading?" He had pointed to her copy of Wives and Daughters, and shaken his head. "They're not my thing."

"You don't like novels. Got it. So what do you like, then?"

He had given a shrug. "The Seattle Times, namely the sports and finance section."

"Sports and finance." Not quite sure what to make of that combination, Bella had reached for her coffee, and teased, "Heavy stuff." Before she could grasp the disposable cup, however, he had held out his hand.

"My name's Evan Miller. And you are?"

After a moment of hesitation, she had returned his handshake. "Bella."

"Bella," he'd echoed, smiling as he'd held her gaze. "Nice to meet you, Bella."

Three years had passed since that fateful spring day. Funny how it now seemed like a lifetime ago.

For the first two years, things had been good between them. Like crazy good. Despite being a consummate professional, Evan was fun and sweet. Funny. God, he'd made her laugh, sometimes until she cried. Even now, some of the memories they had made took her breath away, like the time they had taken a trip to Napa Valley, where he'd gotten down on one knee, and popped the question.

Because marriage was a touchy subject with Bella, she had panicked a little at first, but only for a moment. Head over heels in love with him, she had breathed a fragile, "yes" before extending her trembling hand so he could slide the ring on her finger.

The excitement of their engagement had been frightening and dizzying at first. But then, seemingly out of the blue, their relationship had begun to change.

At first, Bella had thought it might be a combination of stress related to their jobs, the wedding they couldn't seem to plan, and their clashing opinions in their search for their future home.

Every couple goes through this. It's normal, she had rationalized, hoping it would pass. But it hadn't passed. If anything, their mutual frustrations had only increased. They argued a lot. And when they weren't fighting, Evan was practically never there.

"Work just called again." How many times she had heard those exact words, Bella couldn't really say. "I'm sorry, I gotta go. I'll make it up to you, though. I promise."

As a financial planner at a small, and relatively new, wealth management firm, his job took a sizeable chunk of his time. But somehow, things felt off. He was different, absent or distracted, except for those intervals when he would shower her with flowers and apologies.

It was maddening, confusing. And with him being gone half the time, she had soon wondered if there was another woman in his life. It would explain the guilt she would sometimes see in his eyes. Lacking actual proof, however, Bella had chosen to confront him about it.

A few weeks ago, when Evan should have been home but hadn't been, she had stood in front of her bathroom mirror, pointing an accusing finger at her reflection. "You," she had scolded herself. "You're a grown-ass woman, not a needy teenager. You should have more self-respect than this." If he was cheating, she wasn't going to ignore it. No. It was time to face the truth, whatever it was.

Fueled by her newfound determination, Bella hadn't gone to bed that night. Rather, she had sat in their small living-room, within view of the entryway, and waited.

"Bella?" Evan had said upon entering the apartment. "It's one in the morning, what are you doing up?"

Not wanting to beat around the bush, she had gained her feet, her voice surprisingly level when she had answered, "Waiting for you. I need to ask you something, and I need you to tell me the truth."

Puzzled and wary, Evan had tossed his keys in a bowl by the door. "Okay."

"Are you seeing someone else?"

His frown had been immediate. "What, no!"

"No?" Her voice had trembled a little.

"No," he had reiterated, and seemed offended.

Unable to tell if he had been lying or not, Bella had thrown up her hands. "Then what's going on with you? With us? We argue all the time. We never go out anymore. You're hardly ever here. And when you are, you're not. It's like… like your head is caught in a cloud somewhere. Just… tell me, okay?"

"Look, I promise you. There's no one else."

Frustrated by his answer, Bella had pinched the bridge of her nose. "If you're not cheating, then what is it? What's happening to us?"

Sighing, he had hung his coat on a hook by the door. "You know work has been busy. The company is finally starting to take off. Alex is now talking about adding me on as a business partner. I wouldn't just be working there anymore, I'd be part owner." Tired and annoyed, he had crossed the space, and made his way to the adjacent kitchen, where he'd grabbed a soda can from the fridge, and popped the lid. "I have a shot at this, Bella. But to earn my place, I have to put in the work. Out of all people, I thought you'd understand that. I mean, you're practically married to your job."

"My job? My job isn't my life, Evan."

He had cocked a brow at that. Bella enjoyed her job, sure, and she aimed to do it well. But working as a proofreader at a magazine wasn't as exciting as she had first thought it to be.

"Fine. We both work a lot," she had conceded. "But that doesn't explain this weird strain between us. Sometimes, I get the feeling you don't know what you want anymore." When he made no reply, she had swallowed against the tightness in her throat. "Is that it? Is that why you've pulled away from me?"

His silence had been like a kick in the mouth. Maybe he was cheating, maybe he wasn't. But one thing was certain: he wasn't happy, and neither was she.

"Well if you don't know what you want, maybe I shouldn't be wearing this, then." Quietly, and with a shaking hand, Bella had removed her engagement ring.

As she had held it out, Evan had closed his eyes. When next he had looked to her, his feet had brought him closer. "That's not… Bella…" He had protested in whispers.

"It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know we've hit a rough patch. And if you need time, you know what? That's okay. I think I need time, too." Because he hadn't taken the ring, she had placed it on their coffee table, and retreated to their room.

They had talked some more that night, then again the following day. Though they hadn't actually ended things, Bella and Evan had agreed that marriage was not a good idea right now. Moreover, because she had a lot of soul-searching to do, Bella had asked that he sleep in a separate room for the time being.

Ever since then, the same questions kept repeating in her mind.

Does he really love me?

Is he really working late?

Can I trust him?

Trust. The essential ingredient to any successful relationship. Without it, was there even a point?

Late one Tuesday night, Bella had been lying in bed, unable to sleep, when a new and distressing question had arisen in her thoughts.

Am I falling out of love with him?

Thinking the answer might be yes, she had called Charlie the very next day, asking if she could visit. When he had agreed, Bella had felt this incredible sense of relief. Distance, she had thought, cemented in her decision to take some time for herself. Distance will do me good.

In an unhappy twist of fate, however, she had wrecked her car just shy of her destination, her injuries landing her in the hospital bed in which she lay. Now her former fiancé was sleeping at her bedside, the uncertainty of their relationship as heavy now as it had been when she had left their apartment, her keys in one hand, and her suitcase in the other.

Head pivoting against her pillow, Bella left Evan to his dreams, and looked past the doorway, to the nurse's station just across the hall. As was usually the case this time of day, the area behind the desk was thrumming with activity, nurses and secretaries going about their business with smooth efficiency. That is until a certain blond doctor strode into the work space. No sooner had he done so than most of the nurses faltered in what they were doing. Some were staring with lovestruck expressions, while the rest were blushing and saying, "Hi, Dr. Cullen."

What is up with that?

Carlisle Cullen was insanely attractive, that much was true. But the way these nurses were acting around him, as if they were caught in some weird spell… it wasn't normal. Recalling her own reaction upon seeing him the other day—the instant and visceral pull he'd had on her—Bella knew it wasn't normal either.

Even now the effect lingered, her heart quickening as she watched him from afar.

Dr. Cullen, who had been leafing through some papers, seemed to freeze all of a sudden. Facing away from her, he then turned his face, but not enough to catch her eyes.

As Bella's pulse quickened even more, he loosened his tie a bit. Then he raked a hand through his hair. Just like the other day in her room, his posture was tense. He seemed bothered, flustered. He looked to the sheet in front of him. Trying to make sense of his behavior, Bella thought that maybe he was going over some test results, and wasn't happy with what he was seeing.

She watched him for a moment longer. Speaking words she could not hear, Dr. Cullen handed the papers over to a nurse, and was on his way. When he hurried past her room, chin lowered, his fingers scratching behind his ear, he did not look in her direction. And yet she could have sworn he was aware of her.

Bella sighed. Here you go again, imagining things. Damn concussion.

Hoping to cast the strange and mysterious doctor from her thoughts, she glanced at her bedside table. The flowers and cards brought a small smile to her face. Some were from the police department, others from the people at Bella's work. "Everyone signed," Audrey had told her when she had first arrived. "Hence the reason it took three cards." Two of the bouquets were from family friends who lived on the reservation. Strangely enough, none of them had come by—not even Billy Black and his son, Jacob. Instead, they had given the flowers to Charlie, and asked if he would give them to her.

Her attention shifting to a brown teddy bear, Bella had to chuckle. Charlie. He might not be the most openly affectionate man in the world, but he was a good father. In his eyes, she was his little girl, even at thirty years old. She doubted that would ever change.

Having spent the first three days at her bedside, Charlie had returned to work today, but had promised to drop by again later. It suited her, if she was honest. Being stuck in a hospital bed was bad enough, seeing the lingering concern on her father's face made it even worse. Banged up as she was, Bella was healing, and was going to be okay. The sooner people would stop fussing and return to their lives, the better it would be.

It was just after eleven in the morning. As was usually the case in Forks, rain was battering the windows, the sound echoing through the closed curtains.

Needing to stretch her back a little, Bella pushed herself into a straighter position. Her body being sore, she hissed through the pain, then relaxed against the slanted portion of her mattress.

To her left, Evan stirred. His blue eyes blinked open. When he saw that she was awake, his sleepy expression morphed into a warm smile. He stretched. "Hey, beautiful." He'd been extra sweet since the accident.

"Hey."

"I nodded off, didn't I? Sorry." Chuckling softly, Evan rose and leaned forward. His gaze fixed onto hers, he swept her hair back, and deposited a small kiss to her brow. Conflicted by his nearness, Bella turned her head a little.

Discerning her discomfort, he eased away, and asked, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright. Just looking forward to getting out of here. Dr. Coleman says another five or six days and I should be ready to leave."

"That's good. Only I hope you're going to take it easy when you get home." Bella's reluctance must have been apparent because Evan seemed puzzled all of a sudden. "What?"

Might as well say it now. "I need to talk to you about something."

Nodding, he sat back down, and waited.

"I think it's sweet that you're here, and that you've been waiting for me to get better, but I don't think I'll be heading to Seattle right away."

His mouth opened in confusion. "If this is about your follow ups, I'm sure they can transfer your case to—"

"It's not that. Things have been busy this year. I've missed spending time with Charlie. He's alone up here. When mom died—divorced or not—he took her death pretty hard. I think me staying here for a bit will do him some good." Her chest rose and fell on an extended breath. "And me as well. Anyway, he asked if I would stay. I think I will. At least for a few weeks."

His fingers skimmed along her forearm, a dim smile finding light on his face. "And here I thought you hated this rainy town."

"I admit, I wasn't so fond of it as a teen. High school was endless. I never really fit in. But life happens, and our perspectives change. I think I need to do this. To reconnect." And figure things out. Maybe find myself again.

A moment went by. "Alright." He gave a nod. "But I'm staying until you're out of the hospital." Evan staying at Charlie's… It was a somewhat scary thought.

Instead of voicing this, however, she arched her brows. "All that time off? Who are you and what have you done with Evan?"

"Shocking, I know." The moment stretched on. His smile began to fade. "Look, I realize things haven't been easy between us. And I know that we have a lot to sort through, but when Charlie called me to say you were in an accident…" He blew out a tremulous breath. "It felt like the world had shattered beneath my feet. Like, like… Bella, you know I lo—"

"Evan, don't," she stopped him, but not harshly.

She knew what he had been about to say—that he still loved her. At one time, she would have said it back, without hesitation. But right now, despite caring for him, she couldn't bring herself to say it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

"I just…" She searched for the words. "I know you're worried, but nothing's changed. I need to breathe. I'm pretty sure you do, too."

Evan pursed his lips, his gaze lowering as he absorbed her words.

"Besides, somebody has to take care of Lollipop."

Lollipop was her rescue cat. Fat and fluffy, she was positively ancient. A real grouch. Bella adored the furball.

"How's your mother managing, by the way?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

Evan rubbed the back of his neck. "Well you know how she is." The woman was terrified of cats. "Mom's being helpful," he went on to say. "She's been feeding her. This morning, she even cleaned the litter box. But when she drops by, she's in and out of there. Lightning fast."

Bella chuckled at that. They both did.

But then, his amusement ceding to a rueful expression, Evan said, "If you truly need space, I'll respect that. I'll grab my stuff later, and I'll head out this afternoon. How's that?"

"Thanks, Evan." The sentiment was genuine.

A familiar ringtone sounded just then, interrupting the moment.

"Sorry." He glanced down at his phone. "I gotta take this."

Like always, he turned his full attention to the incoming call, raising his cell to his ear and stepping out of the room. "Hey."

For the span of several heartbeats, Bella stared at the empty doorway, and wondered. Was it work, or someone else?

When she had first entertained the possibility that he was being unfaithful, she had been troubled and angry. But now, for some strange reason, she was mostly numb over the whole thing. Resigned seemed like a good word for it. After all, wouldn't it hurt less if she saw it coming?

Moments later, the rhythmic clicking of heels drifted in from the corridor, each footfall getting closer and closer until a familiar face came into view.

"Audrey." A genuine smile found its way to Bella's mouth.

"I come bearing gifts," her friend beamed, displaying a paper bag. "With lunch coming up, I thought I would bring edible food. Because that cafeteria stuff..." Audrey trailed, and actually shuddered. "Anyway, I got you some crispy chicken parmigiana with arugula and a pasta salad."

"Where'd you get all that?"

At five foot ten, Audrey's lanky frame towered over Bella's. She wore glasses, large with a clear plastic frame. Her reddish-blond hair was gathered in a ponytail, the strands as straight as her bangs. Passionate about her style, she wore blazers every day—blazers with skirts, dresses, dressy pants, and jeans. In short, blazers with practically everything.

By that, one might think, "serious and stylish, a powerhouse", only Audrey was a tad too colorful for that. She owned blazers of every color imaginable—from yellow to orange, bright blue, green, and purple. As if that wasn't bright enough, she liked to wear matching jewelry as well, matchy-matchy accessories like bangles and earrings of the exact same color as her blazer of the day.

It was cute and brave, original. Bella admired her friend's uniqueness, her willingness to march to the beat of her own drum. Unfortunately, some of the people at work didn't always get Audrey's style—or Audrey herself for that matter. A few of them even went so far as calling her "Skittles".

Sitting in the chair Evan had just vacated, Audrey took the food out of the bag, and answered Bella's query. "I got it in the deli section at the Thriftway. It's far from fine dining, but anything beats hospital foo…"

Her sentence remained unfinished. Audrey was just sitting there, slack-jawed as she held the salad container a few inches from her chest. "Dear God in heaven," she gasped, and stared beyond the doorway. "Who is that?"

"That," Bella answered, already knowing who she would see, "is Dr. Cullen."

Sure enough, he had returned to the nurse's station, and was now conferring with Dr. Coleman.

Her friend pushed her glasses higher on her nose. "Hot damn…"

I know, Bella almost said but didn't.

Audrey went on, "Is it even legal to look that good?"

The two kept on staring. "No idea."

At that, the two friends exchanged a glance. And then they laughed.

"My stitches. Ow," Bella complained, holding her sore stomach. As her laughter tapered off, Audrey pulled some magazines out of a large tote bag. "Something to help pass the time," she explained. "I brought Reader's Digest and National Geographic. I would have bought more, but all they had were tabloids and the latest issue of Cosmo. I knew you wouldn't care for those."

As a self-proclaimed nerd herself, Audrey didn't care for those publications either. "I bought a few treats, too." Now she produced a selection of candy bars.

"What would I ever do without you?"

"Oh, you'd manage, I'm sure." Her mirth ceding to honest warmth, Audrey said. "I'm glad you're okay, Bella."

Since she was only leaving for Seattle in the morning, Audrey stayed for the remainder of the day. Evan, for his part, respected Bella's wishes and took off shortly after lunch. Once he had gone, her friend looked to her, and asked. "Have you decided anything?" She meant about Evan.

"I think I'll have a better idea once I've had some time to myself. But I'm leaning in one direction, yeah."

"You're strong." By this, it was clear Audrey knew which way she was leaning. With a nod of encouragement, she declared, "You'll be alright."

Bella appreciated that. When Audrey dropped by the following morning, the two said their goodbyes. "Text or call me when you get home?" Now that Charlie had surprised her with a brand-new cell phone—he had brought it last night—Bella was finally able to contact her friends without using the landline in the room.

"Will do." Audrey said and hugged her. "Take care and get better, okay?"

"Will do," Bella echoed.

As her healing continued, the days and nights blended together. Over the next few days, Bella read, or slept, or passed the time by thinking and staring out the window. Now that her head felt better, her eyes weren't as sensitive to the light anymore. After days of dim lighting, it was nice seeing the sky again, even if it was dreary and gray.

Three days after Audrey left, the sun finally came out. Dr. Cullen must have had the day off, because she didn't see him at all that day, nor the one after that.

The next time she saw him, Bella was nearing the end of her hospital stay. In fact, Dr. Coleman had said she might get to go home. "Maybe as early as tomorrow," he had said during his rounds earlier that morning.

Bella was feeling much better, it was true. Though she was still sore, she could move around now. A whopping five minutes of continuous walking was her current limit, though—for the entire week. Next week, if her body allowed, she would go for a full ten.

She was bored. Seeing as she had reached her walking quota, Bella opted to pass the time by venturing out in her wheelchair.

Compared to the hospitals in Seattle, Forks General was pretty small, a county hospital with a relatively small staff and an even smaller cafeteria. The food here was mostly bland, but the tea and coffee machines were decent enough.

It was just past nine in the morning. With a piping hot coffee in one hand, Bella maneuvered her wheelchair toward her room. She was rolling by the chapel when something drew her gaze.

Slowing to a stop, Bella stared past the doorway, into the dimly-lit room beyond. There, sitting in the first row, was Dr. Cullen. Dressed in scrubs, he was leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. At present, his chin was dipped downward, his eyes directed at the floor. His golden hair stood every which way, as though he had repeatedly raked his fingers through it.

There was a weariness about him, or maybe it was sadness. Clearly, he was having a rough day.

Unlike the other times she had seen him, Bella's pulse didn't quicken. Instead, her heart only went out to him.

Thinking she would leave before he noticed, she turned the wheel of her chair a little.

But too late.

Dr. Cullen had already seen her. Now they were both staring.

Embarrassed, Bella blushed, and continued on her way.

Having read all her magazines, she spent the following hours watching random shows on her small bedside TV. At dinner time, Charlie dropped by.

"Since we only have that one bathroom," he explained, "I suppose you'll have to stay upstairs for the first few days. At least your room's ready. I even found those little string-lights in the attic. The ones that used to hang on your walls. Gonna put them up tonight." He gave a brief smile. "I have the rest of the week off. You won't have to go up and down the stairs. You won't have to worry about meals either." A flush crept onto his cheeks. "And if ever you need help with other things. Getting in or out of the shower or what not, Sue said she'd come over and lend a hand."

"Sounds good." Though thankful for all he was doing, Bella truly hated being fussed over, and couldn't wait to be better again.

At least I'll be home.

Charlie left around eight that night. Before he went, however, he headed down to the cafeteria and got her some herbal tea.

Alone in her room, not quite ready to sleep, Bella thought she might head out for one final spin around the halls. No sooner had she gotten in her chair than an idea came to mind.

Her gaze went to her metal locker.

Moments later, she was heading out of her room, her coat zipped over her pajamas. "I'm just going outside for a few minutes," she told one of the nurses who was walking by. There was an exit just at the end of the hall, beyond which was a bench and a trashcan. Over the past two days, Bella had gone out there a few times, to clear her head mostly, and breathe the open air.

He shouldn't go out there. He shouldn't seek her out when the sane and cautious thing to do was to stay right here, at the empty nurse's station, where a stack of paperwork was awaiting his perusal. But his singer had just rolled by, grabbing his attention as she made for the nearest exit.

Though no one was out there at the moment, the area beyond the doors was a popular spot for those who needed fresh air or a smoke. Since he knew she wasn't a smoker, Carlisle figured she was heading out for the former. He couldn't blame her. Being cooped up in a hospital could be hard on patients. At least she was better now. In fact, Bella was on the verge of being sent home.

Rolling his chair a little closer to the desk, Carlisle affixed his signature on a page, and reached for another.

A thump and whir sounded, telling him she had pressed the button to open the doors. Moments later Bella was outside, the doors closing behind her wheelchair.

Pen in hand, Carlisle pressed on the plunger a few times, the tiny clicks sounding over the hum of the hospital's ventilation system. The beep of nearby hospital equipment floated in the background, blending with the gentle snores coming from room 105. Because there were nurses working about, quiet conversations drifted in from further down the hall. Having been a physician for many long years, it was a familiar melody to his ears—the quiet start of a night shift. Usually, Carlisle would have drifted upon the sounds, but the gentle lub-dub of Isabella's beating heart proved rather distracting.

Do your work, he admonished himself. Concentrate. But in the words of his coworkers, this had been a rather shitty day, and the distraction otherwise known as Bella Swan was tempting.

Spinning his chair, he ignored the discomfort in his throat—honestly, it wasn't so bad tonight—and leafed through a chart. He was rather proud of himself; his focus held for a solid minute. But then a gasp severed his concentration, the sound followed by the hollow clatter of a paper cup hitting the ground.

"God dammit." Her muttered curse drifted in from the outside. Bella had dropped her herbal tea—raspberry blend by the smell of it. "Fuck," she whispered to herself.

Frowning in concern, Carlisle worried she might have burned herself, but her softly muttered, "Way to go, Bella," suggested she was okay. Rising from his chair, he leaned over the desk, and craned his neck to see. Bella's annoyance was evident, but in a turn of good fortune, the hot liquid had missed her lap entirely. As her empty cup skidded away, carried by easterly winds, she cursed again. Only the plastic lid remained in her hand.

Before he could rethink his decision, Carlisle found himself in the nearby break room. Moments later, he was stepping through the glass doors, a cup of hot water in one hand, and three packets of herbal tea in the other.

"A little mishap?' he asked.

Bundled in a coat, Bella had wheeled herself near to the trashcan. Dropping the plastic lid in the garbage, she seemed startled by his presence. Her gaze going to the warm offering in his outstretched hand, she promptly gathered herself. With a careful push of a wheel, Bella managed to turn her chair. The two were now facing each other.

"Herbal tea mishap, yeah," she replied on a sheepish smile. "I'm something of a klutz."

As windswept leaves skittered over the pavement, Carlisle stepped closer. "A klutz, huh?"

A flush bloomed on her cheeks. "It's a gift." Her eyes went to his hand. "Is that really for me?"

"Since your tea is now seeping into the pavement, I thought you might like another one," he offered. "I wasn't sure what you'd like, though. So I brought the ones we had." He proceeded to read each packet. "Peppermint, chamomile, and jasmine." He would have brought raspberry tea, but the break room was all out.

Bella seemed rather surprised, unsure even, but then, on a small but grateful smile, she took the cup from his hand. "Um… thanks?" Chewing her lower lip, she considered the packets he had brought. In the end, she chose chamomile.

"Don't mention it." Carlisle should have left with that. He should have wished her a good night and been on his way. But like a satellite caught in her orbit, he couldn't break away.

Seemingly puzzled by his lingering presence, Bella regarded him for a moment longer. "You can sit down if you want." With a nudge of her chin, she indicated the bench beside her.

Again, Carlisle went against his better judgment, and sat down, reasoning that he'd been due for a break anyway.

At first, neither of them said anything. Bella was blowing on her tea, taking cautious sips every now and again, while Carlisle simply sat there, fiddling with the end of his tie.

This was stupid. He'd been the one to seek her out, and now he was fidgeting like a nervous idiot. In truth, he was embarrassed, the memory of their last interaction gnawing at his mind. The abrupt manner in which he had fled her room had not only been rude, it'd been downright unprofessional. What she must think of me.

The rustling of her jacket drew him out of his thoughts. Setting her tea on the bench, Bella reached into her pocket and produced a candy bar, of all things.

The bright red packaging crinkled as she ripped it open, revealing four interconnected sections of chocolate. Snapping the square in half, Bella held out two of the sections. "You brought tea. The least I can do is provide chocolate."

Though genuinely touched by the gesture, Carlisle raised a polite hand. "That's very kind of you, but you should keep it." Human food being unappealing to him, his refusal was not as selfless as he made it seem. And it wasn't just about the taste either. Because their organs were essentially frozen, vampires couldn't digest regular food and drink.

"Nonsense, there's enough for the two of us. Come on, doc," Bella insisted. "Besides, what's the saying, 'Have a break, have a Kit Kat'?" Her lovely mouth was now curved in a teasing smirk. Her eyes alight, she waved the chocolate, and said, "Come on, I know you want it."

He didn't. He truly didn't. But as Bella arched a beautiful brow, Carlisle laughed in spite of himself, and gave in—partly because of her charms, but mostly because of the scent that now wafted to his nose. Not the chocolate, but the sweet-smelling scent that was all Bella. Isabella.

The chocolaty strips were in his hand now. With some mental encouragement, he snapped the sections into two strips, and finally dared a bite.

It tasted awful. Seriously, chocolate was vile. But drawing upon what he liked to call his "acting talent", Carlisle chewed and swallowed nonetheless, displaying what he hoped was a convincing smile. "Mmmm."

By that point, Bella had taken a bite as well, her eyes closing in delight. "I don't know what it is about chocolate, but damn if I wasn't craving it all day."

Her words both roused and shamed him, making him squirm. While Bella was craving chocolate, here he was, secretly craving her. When the wind picked up, carrying and lessening her scent, Carlisle relaxed by a fraction, and took another revolting bite. One stick down. One to go. As the chocolate slid down his throat, he tried not to think about the fact that he would have to cough it back up later, tasting it all over again.

Not quite ready to eat the rest, he looked to her, and picked a thread of conversation. "I heard you might be getting out of here tomorrow."

Bella raised a hand near to her mouth, chewing and swallowing as quickly as she could. "Yes, thank God." By the way she said this, and the subtle roll of her eyes, Bella seemed more than ready to get out of here.

Deciding that she looked a hundred times better than the other day in her hospital room, Carlisle voiced his observation. "You look well." The sceptical look she shot him made him rethink his choice of words. "Better," he amended, sensing she would appreciate honesty over flattery. The warmth that blossomed on her features told him he had been correct.

"I know I still have a lot of healing to do, but I do feel better. Baby steps, right?"

"Baby steps," he agreed on a nod. When they lapsed into silence, Carlisle swept a gaze over the hospital grounds. The trees were swaying tonight, and the turf rippled in the wind. After several beats of her heart, he glanced over at Bella, and ventured a question. "Your dad tells me you live in Seattle. I suppose you'll be heading over there soon?"

To his surprise, she said. "Not exactly. Seeing as I'm on medical leave, and don't have to go back to work right away, I'm actually going to stay with Charlie for a few weeks."

Her chair squeaked as she turned one of the wheels, pivoting her chair until she was staring out onto the grounds. Tonight, her hair was gathered in a messy bun. Loose tendrils framed the side of her alabaster face, the strands feathering against her skin. "Maybe it's a dad thing, but he worries. Anyway, he asked if I would stay until I'm better. So I will."

Suddenly glad that she wouldn't be leaving Forks just yet, Carlisle had to rein himself in. Whether she stayed or not made no difference in the end. Starting tomorrow, Bella would no longer be a patient at this hospital. He would have no excuse to see her—not that he should.

Giving no outward sign of his disappointment, Carlisle sat back, and draped his arm over the wooden backrest. "You call your dad, Charlie?" Why he had chosen that particular question, he couldn't really say. But he had asked, and she answered, blushing anew.

"A long-time habit." Her nose crinkled a little, then she breathed a laugh. A lovely, if somewhat timid laugh, delivered as her gaze fell to her lap. "It's weird, I know."

"Unusual," he admitted on a slight chuckle. "But not weird. He loves you very much."

"He does. Of course, he's quiet and serious most of the time, but he's a good dad. He has my back, you know?"

As she spoke, Carlisle was struck by the warmth and calm she exuded, like she was comfortable with him. By and large, it wasn't a common thing. While some people felt an instinctive need to get away from him, others had the opposite reaction. Hot or cold, those were usually the norm. Not this level of ease, at least never so soon. Recalling her reaction to seeing him, when he had walked up to her hospital bed, he was relieved to see it.

Like most of the women—and some men—who crossed his path, Bella had not been immune to the useless tools in his arsenal. The allure that drew people in. Carlisle hated it. He'd always hated the artificial pull he had on people.

Normally, it could take up to two years for a person to get over the effect. But unlike most of the nurses who worked alongside him, Bella was now staring at him like a normal person. Gone were the doe-eyes, the involuntary quickening of her pulse. Instead, her brown eyes were filled with nothing but kindness.

Moved by the realness of the moment, Carlisle had to break eye contact for a second. Is this real? It seemed to be. As he looked to her once more, Bella seemed wholly unaffected by his vampiric magnetism. The way she was watching him made it seem like she was seeing him as a man. Just a man. It made his immortal life to see it.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yes, forgive me." Snapping out of his musings, Carlisle blew out a breath, and dragged his fingers through his hair.

"Rough day?" Bella inquired softly, studying him as she took another sip.

Though she hadn't guessed his thoughts just now, she'd hit the nail on the head anyway. Of course, Bella had seen him at the chapel earlier that morning, where he had gone to lick his proverbial wounds and gather his sorrowful thoughts.

His dead heart growing heavier as he stared out into the night, Carlisle heaved a sigh, and murmured, "It was." A long moment went by, and then, "A patient died on my table today."

Why he had chosen to confide in her, Carlisle did not know. Only he felt like he could.

The swift breeze was overpowered by a sudden gust of wind. As nearby leaves rustled with renewed vigor, Bella pulled at her zipper, raising it so as to ward off the chill. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Their eyes met again, their gazes holding for a beat, then two.

"Thank you, Isabella."

She drank her tea in silence after that. Once they had both finished their chocolate, Carlisle gained his feet, and offered to wheel her back to her room.

"You can walk with me if you want, but you're not pushing this wheelchair." Even with her smile, it was clear she meant it.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, then opened the door.

"You know, there's a button for that." Bella indicated the rectangular button on the wall—the one with the wheelchair sign.

"True, but why waste electricity?" Ah-ha, got you there, he wanted to boast but didn't. Instead, Carlisle held the door open until she was through. Then, matching her pace, he walked alongside her until they had reached her room.

"Here. Let me help you." The words had barely left his mouth, and he was already helping her out of her coat. Carlisle hadn't really thought about it. He'd just done it. Bella seemed rather taken aback again. But she was laughing, too.

As he hung the coat inside her open locker, she beheld him with amusement. "Who said chivalry was dead?"

Since she was physically able to move around by herself, he refrained from helping her into bed. He stayed close, though. Just in case.

Her movements were slow and cautious. Because she was still sore, he saw her wince a few times. Once Bella was settled, Carlisle pointed his thumb over his shoulder. "I suppose I should go."

He was nearly at the threshold when she called after him. "Dr. Cullen?" A pause ensued. "Can I ask you something?"

Curious, he turned to face her. "Sure."

"How'd you find me anyway? Out there, by the highway. My car wasn't visible from the road."

Carlisle had to swallow his rising panic. True, he didn't know her very well, but if Bella Swan was anything like her father, she was no fool. There was a swift intelligence behind her eyes. The wheels of her mind were clearly turning right now. Would she even buy his hiking story?

Unwilling to chance it, Carlisle took a step back. Desperate to protect his secret—that he had been running about the woods, glutting himself on deer blood—he schooled his features into what he hoped was an easy smile. "A lucky twist of fate, I guess."

Bella's confusion intensified, her smile fading only slightly when she said, "Wait, that's your answer? That's all I'm getting?" Amused but undeterred, she opened her mouth to say more, but his beeper sounded just then, saving his proverbial ass, at least for now.

Looking down at his pager, Carlisle apologized. "You'll have to forgive me. Duty calls." Before he went, however, he looked to her one last time, his voice soft and earnest when he said. "Good night, Isabella."

To his relief, her features softened, too. "Good night, Dr. Cullen."