Thank you to Team Harpy.

Chapter 13

Bella

I keep my head down as I scurry toward my trailer, my sanctuary. The one place on set that I don't have to be on all the time. I make a beeline for my bed and crash onto it, looking listlessly up at the ceiling, angrily swiping away my errant tears. Why am I crying? He wasn't cruel, just really confused, much like I am. Nothing he said was a falsehood. And we both knew it.

"It's fine. Everything is fine."

"What's fine?"

I jump. I didn't even hear Ang come in. When I don't answer, she barrels on. "Are you running lines by yourself again? I told you that's pathetic and to text me when you want to do that." She finally stops and looks closely at me. Upon seeing my tear tracks, she flies to my side.

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"Yeah." I laugh, but there's no humor behind it.

"Where?" Her hands flutter around me as if searching for blood.

I lightly slap them away from me and sit up, pulling my knees to my chest. "It's nowhere you can see," I explain despondently.

She sits down, facing me, mimicking my pose. "You're gonna have to spell it out for me."

"My plan is working too well."

Understanding dawns on her face, then morphs into confusion. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yeah, but not like this."

"Why don't you tell me what happened?"

So, I tell her our conversation verbatim. "He was just so … not Edward," I finish.

"Not the Edward you knew, but Edward now is a completely different person."

"Not that different," I mutter.

"Let's discuss the differences that matter. He's older. He's more mature. He's married." Her tone softens. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Would you be this upset if you had suggested this instead of him? I know we've talked about this before. The whole having control over everything."

I think for a minute. "Probably not," I admit.

"No one likes being rejected, Bella."

"True. I'm just … this makes me so incredibly sad, that's all. And I know I don't have any right to feel that way."

"Yes, you do. You have the right to feel like you feel whether it makes sense or not."

"How am I supposed to be so close to him all the time and not interact with him?"

"Well, how were you gonna do it before you came back here?"

"Arms length, casual but vacant conversation when we had to."

"There you go."

"Okay, yeah, I can do that." I jump up and escape to the tiny bathroom to wipe my face. I sniffle a few times for good measure, clear my throat, then glance in the mirror. I look tired but it works, considering my on-screen persona.

A tap at the door brings me out of my musing. "You okay in there?"

"Yep." I love Ang, but she hovers. I open the door, and it's business as usual. We slap a couple of sandwiches together and eat them in between talking scripts and schedules. A rapid tap tap tap on the door tells me it's time for hair and makeup. I gather my script, phone, and AirPods as I plan on ignoring everyone in that area all the way up to and including the set until the word Action is yelled. I still need to decompress.

He's in there getting his perfect hair perfectly coiffed. I hesitate in the doorway but duty calls so I sit in the seat farthest from him.

I make a show of not paying attention to him, but I notice his jaw tighten in response. I focus on my phone, choosing a song and cranking that bitch up, settling in my chair with "Supermassive Black Hole" blaring out of my AirPods. I get a little extra care today as it's a bar scene, and I don't have to look shitty, so my hair is down and in soft waves with light makeup on my face. I hit up wardrobe to get into my outfit—torn jeans, red fitted sweater, and black boots—before entering the set.

All the actors are here as it's an ensemble scene. We are unwinding after a long, tumultuous day, and collectively, we decide to get drunk and drive home as all responsible doctors should do. I smile at Jake, Victoria, and Alice and sit down at the table where we will be shooting our first scene. Edward will be with Emmett, Jasper, and Natasha. Thank God, he's married. On the show, that is.

I'm mad at him in this scene, which shouldn't be too hard to act out as I'm just full of unresolved feelings. Golden Globes, here I come. Anton comes around and lays out the scene for us. "Drinks" are placed in front of us and also some food. I groan as the props assistant hands me a puke bucket. I've only had to use one once, but that was enough.

"How much food am I ingesting?" I ask wearily, looking at the club sandwich.

"As much as you need to. You'll be eating your feelings in this scene."

I grab my script. "Says who?"

"Small little rewrite in actions. Maggie will see Liam and Irina across the room and grab Charlotte's food and start eating it."

Alice jokingly grabs the plate and protects it as we all laugh.

Anton rolls his eyes, and after visiting Edward's group and the extras in the scene, he takes his place. "And … Action!"

We run our dialogue; I scarf down half the sandwich. "Cut!"

"Anton, I will kill you," I say after I swallow down the dry sandwich. His answer is to have another sandwich placed in front of Alice.

Another couple of takes, a couple of sandwiches, and he's satisfied, and so am I—no puke bucket. Then we get a break while the other table does their dialogue. We have to stay in character but can talk about anything really.

Victoria leans over casually. "Why is Edward staring at you like that?"

"LIke what?" I ask, not bothering to look.

"Like he's hungry and you're a club sandwich."

"He's more of a pizza and fries guy," I automatically respond. "I don't know. Maybe it's in the script changes for him to look at me. He's supposed to be pining over me, remember?" At her look, I correct that. "Liam is pining over Maggie. Bitch, you know what I mean."

She laughs. "I know, but it's so fun to rile you up." In response, I throw a piece of leftover bread at her which makes her squeal, drawing attention to our little table.

I ignore the feel of a certain pair of eyes.

The rest of the week goes the same, and again, I'm thankful for the script that has us avoiding each other.

Until today.

Today, we have one-on-one dialogue. Liam is super confused about his marriage and is trying to make a decision. Sound familiar?

I arrive on set purposely late. He's leaning against the elevator wall where the scene is taking place. I take my place in front of him.

"And action!"

Maggie stands ramrod straight, feeling Liam's eyes burning into the back of her skull. Neither utters a word as Liam approaches Maggie, getting very close, then says, "I miss you" into her ear.

Maggie shudders at his proximity. She turns to look at him, imploring him to say more. He looks from her eyes to her mouth, once, twice, then something in his eyes shatters, and he leans down to capture her lips. She's not expecting it, so she stumbles into the elevator wall. But he's relentless, kissing her over and over. Against her better judgment, she returns his kisses until they're breathless.

He seems to realize what he did, and he backs up quickly while she tries to catch her breath.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

"I know."

"I can't." His eyes plead with her.

"I know that, too."

He brushes her hair out of her face, smiles gently one last time, then leaves her there, wondering what the hell just happened.

Because that kiss was not in the script.

Edward

What the fuck did I just do?

I push past a lot of confused people who all realize I deviated from the script. What was supposed to be a simple pining conversation just ended up with me mauling my ex-girlfriend in an elevator. I chance a glance back, and my eyes lock with Bella's. She looks as shaken as I am. I look at her helplessly, then continue on. I make it to my office and jump when I see Jessica waiting for me. I forgot she came for lunch and decided to stay until I was done so we could go out for dinner.

"Are you done already?"

"Yes. It went … well."

"Hate it was a closed set. I like seeing you work." She presses her well-manicured hands on my chest. I'm still wearing my scrubs.

She sniffs slightly. "Whose perfume is that?"

"Probably Bella's. We were shooting in an elevator. Close quarters and all that. I'm gonna go get changed, and then we can go."

Her face screws up at Bella's name but steps back to let me go.

I enter the bathroom and throw my scrubs off. "What were you thinking for dinner?" I call out to her.

"I called ahead to Altura's."

"Isn't that place hard to get into?"

"Not when they heard who you were. Got a table just like that."

"That's good." And slightly disturbing that she sounds so gleeful at some person probably being bumped so we could eat there.

"Are you about done?"

I finish tying my shoes, then enter my office to grab my phone, keys, and wallet out of the desk drawer. I look around to make sure I'm not missing anything.

"Okay, I'm ready."

"Finally. I'm starving. Craft Services is subpar at best," she replies, slipping her hand into the crook of my arm. It's still light out, which is rare, but after what I pulled, understandable. There might be reshoots tomorrow. And explanations to many.

But that's tomorrow.

Dinner is good, great even, but I'm finding the company of my wife to be lacking more and more each day. I wonder if this is the seven year itch, a few years too late. I was happy until recently, or maybe, I just thought I was. Until Bella came back into my life. I feel a swell of anger arise at her, but it diminishes just as quickly. None of this is her fault.

And none of this is Jessica's fault. She hasn't changed. I have. I used to find her idiosyncrasies unique. Yes, she could be catty, petty, and sometimes rude, but I always explained it away as just Jessica being Jessica. I thought our trip to New York City might rekindle some of the fire we used to have, and while it seemed to for a few days, now I just seem to be tolerating her company.

I tried to stay away from Bella. But even five days of being at a distance was torturous. How did I manage to do it for over a decade? She respected my wishes and didn't seem mad about it, but I was furious at myself.

I'm caught between my wife and my ex. One has been with me for a long time, and one seems as determined as I am to keep our distance … which I ruined tonight in front of many people. It was incredibly unprofessional and insensitive. It may have bordered on sexual harassment.

I groan.

"Am I boring you?"

Yes. "No, I just remembered something, but I'll take care of it tomorrow." I force a smile.

"Okay, you want dessert?"

"Sure." I put away my thoughts and concentrate on Jessica.

I manage to salvage the evening if not my marriage, and we go our separate ways when we return home, she to the living room and me to our bedroom. I put my phone on charge and see a message light up.

It's from Bella.

What the fuck was that? is all it said.

I don't know.

We need to talk tomorrow.

I hang my head in shame.

Yes, we do.

Then like the adulterer I am becoming but trying like hell not to be, I delete the texts and turn my phone face down on my bedside table. Long after Jessica's breathing evens out, I'm staring at my ceiling, wondering how to sort out the shit storm of a life I'm accumulating for myself and continue with my marriage.

And wondering if it's even worth it.

My first stop the next morning is not to find Bella but to find Alec. I'm sure he's heard what transpired last night, and I'm sure he has a few choice words for me.

I knock hesitantly.

"Come in."

He smiles when he sees me and motions for me to have a seat.

"I feel I should apologize for last night …" I begin.

"Apologize for what? That scene was fire and ten times what we even envisioned it could be. Hiring you has been one of the best decisions in this show's history. You have a way of pulling what we need out of Bella, and that kiss was wow! Bravo. Now was there something else you needed?"

"No." I'm flabbergasted.

"Okay, well, go forth and make me some more money," he says, excusing me.

How is this my life? Now I guess I should go and apologize to the woman I mauled last night.

She's waiting for me, sitting at her small table with two cups of coffee in front of her—one all light and creamy and one black. We make eye contact as I shut the door and sit across from her.

"I'm listening."

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"For what? Telling me to stay away from you or kissing me last night? And don't bother telling me you were in character because I know you weren't."

"I wasn't going to lie to you."

"Just to yourself then?"

"Yes. No. I don't know!"

"Well, you'd better figure it out soon because I'm not a child. I'm not interested in playing games. And frankly, I deserve better than that. And God help me for saying this, but so does your wife. She's a lot of things, but she didn't ask for this."

"So what are you saying? You or my wife?"

"Of course not. I've told you before; I'm not interested in being the other woman. You've put me in this position, and I didn't ask for it. I was satisfied just being friends."

"Now who's lying?" I ask.

Her eyes flash, then a wall goes down. "If you'll excuse me, I'm needed on set." She sets her mug down in the sink and grabs her coat.

"That's all I get? You shut down and walk away?"

"We're not married. And unlike you, I'm not obligated to try and work things out. Save that effort for your wife."

And with a slam of her trailer door, she's gone.

"Between a rock and a hard place

Red wine and mistakes

Tears rollin' down your face

When I walked out that door

And that's when I lost it

A midnight in Austin

Damn, I'm exhausted

What the hell's this all for?

Is this where it mends or it breaks?

Between a rock and a hard place - "Between A Rock And A Hard Place"- Bailey Zimmerman

See you on the 5th.