Chapter 37 is EPOV. I know you h00rs are missing him LOLLLL love y'all tho. I get it.

Mistakes are mine!

This chapter is the reason why I expanded this story. If you gotta bounce, keep that news to yourself ;)

36
- everything has changed -

"Welcome back, Bella." Jane smiles as I get comfortable on the leather couch across from her. "How are you today?"

Nervous. I've been worried about this appointment; anxious about what Jane will think about what I did.

Instead of saying that, I settle for: "I'm exhausted. I just got back from Mexico yesterday."

There's a bowl of candy on the coffee table that's never been there before, and Jane catches me noticing it.

"Help yourself," she encourages, and I lean forward to grab a fun-size pack of peanut M&Ms, popping a couple into my mouth. "I brought some of the candy my kids got from trick-or-treating last night," she explains. "If I don't take some of it out of the house, they'll eat it all."

"I didn't think I'd get any trick-or-treaters so I didn't buy any candy. A few kids ended up stopping by so I gave them some packages of fruit snacks. They seemed a little disappointed…" I chuckle before trailing off.

Jane watches me, a small smile on her lips. Maybe she thinks I'm stalling our conversation. She wouldn't be wrong.

"So, tell me about your trip. I know you were worried about not having a second photographer with you, and having to witness all of those tender moments between the bride and groom," she remarks. "How did it go?"

"Surprisingly, the wedding was fine," I say, meaning it. "It was my time not working on the trip that was… interesting."

She looks intrigued, and I'm sure I just hijacked any agenda she had for today's session, but it's important I talk about this.

"Interesting how?" she asks.

I blurt the words before I lose my nerve.

"I slept with someone."

Jane raises her brows but her face stays neutral. She doesn't rush to fill the silence or ask me anything, and I wonder if she first wants me to expand before she speaks.

So I do.

It was just one night.

That was all I needed.

One time to let go.

After parting ways once we arrived at the resort, I kept running into Levi during my trip and he always made a point to talk to me. I declined multiple dinner invites and offers to join him by the pool or a walk on the beach. I didn't want any distractions when I had work to do.

But the day before I was going to fly out, he ran into me at the breakfast buffet and asked if I wanted to ride ATVs with him and his friends.

It was one of his more innocent and less intimate offers, and since I had nothing else to do I said yes.

His friends were rowdy and mostly drunk, but welcoming. It was a good time. The hot sun, dusty desert; sitting behind Levi on the four-wheeler, holding on tight as we fought against the warm wind.

There were little moments while we were out there that added up to one big truth that shocked the hell out of me: I was having fun… and I was attracted to Levi.

I was drawn to his playful, easy nature.

I was enticed by his attraction for me.

I was intrigued by his tenacity because turning him down three days in a row didn't deter him or bruise his ego enough to not ask me out on the fourth day.

But I was also comforted by the fact that I'd never see him again and that he didn't want anything serious. We could have this vacation flirtation and it would be nothing more than that.

That's why I allowed more to happen. And maybe knowing that I was leaving the next day had something to do with it, too, because I wouldn't have to endure any potential awkwardness afterward.

After we got back to the hotel, we were a sweaty, dusty mess, dirt stuck to our legs and arms.

His friends were going to the pool bar for beers, and I agreed to join them, but I wanted to shower first.

Levi asked to walk me to my room, and I said sure.

On the way there, I knew. I mean, I didn't know what was going to happen but I knew if he tried to kiss me, I'd probably let him. It'd be harmless, I told myself. A kiss. That's it. A thank-you for showing me a good time and distracting me.

But when we got to my door, we lingered. He pointed out that my shoulders were sunburned, his fingers brushing my skin. He recapped the day, talking himself up about what a badass driver he was. I laughed and rolled my eyes at his confidence, congratulating him on not killing us.

He smiled.

And then he asked if he could kiss me.

I nodded.

His lips were still curved upward a bit when he leaned in to press his mouth to mine.

When we pulled apart, there was an unspoken agreement between us.

One night.

I opened my door and pulled him in behind me.

That was that.

Jane listens intently, but her neutral expression never changes. I wait for her to tell me it was too soon or that I'm an awful person because the divorce isn't official for another two months, but she just asks, "How do you feel about that?"

I twist my hands together. "Umm… I feel a lot of things."

"Take your time."

"I feel sad in a way."

"In what way?"

"That Edward is no longer the last man I was intimate with."

"Understandable."

"I feel… relieved. Relieved that I was able to do it at all, and not be stuck in my head the entire time. Enjoy myself, even," I admit, my cheeks burning a little.

I had a good thirty seconds to back out of sleeping with Leviwanted to—when he ran to the bathroom to grab a condom from the jeans he'd discarded before we'd showered together. He searched my face when he returned like he knew his brief absence might cause some doubt.

"We good?" he asked.

I like that he checked in. That he wanted constant consent. It made me feel secure and in charge.

"Putting yourself back out there intimately can be intimidating," Jane says gently.

"Is it bad that I don't feel guilty?" I ask as an overwhelming wave of guilt washes over me. "But now I feel guilty for not feeling guilty. So maybe I do feel regret? I don't know."

"You believe you should feel guilty?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

I think about it. "Wasn't it too soon?"

"Only you can answer that. Did it feel too soon to you?"

"No," I say truthfully. "But... society?"

"There's no elusive time that has to pass before one can try to move on that way. If you felt it was something you could and should do, and you weren't hurting anyone in the process, I don't see a problem."

"It would hurt Edward," I mumble.

"Perhaps it would hurt him, yes. But maybe he has been trying to move on just as you have."

I don't even allow myself to think about what she just said, my guilt coming at me full-fledged now. I need her to tell me I was wrong. That I fucked-up. I need her to tell me what I can do to make it right again.

But I know I can't take back what I did with Levi. What's done is done.

"I'm still technically married for the next two months," I mumble. "Doesn't what I did look bad?"

"Look bad to whom? You won't be judged here, I can assure you of that, Bella. I'm not here to question your choices. I'm here to help you understand why you make them."

I nod in relief, and we both stare at each other in silent understanding—this is a safe place.

"Why do you think you chose to sleep with Levi?" she wonders.

I think about this for nearly a full minute.

"The thought of going home the next day and returning to my sad, lonely, depressing life and dealing with my divorce scared me," I admit. "I wanted to have fun and feel good."

"Divorce can be challenging and overwhelming. You wanted to escape. Do you feel it was similar to that night you had with Peter months ago?" she pushes.

"No," I immediately say, slightly defensive. "That was different."

"How so?"

"Because I was so fucking sad that night with Peter. I was an embarrassing, drunk, pathetic mess. I was being stupid. Reckless—"

Jane cuts in and says, "Maybe try explaining it again without putting yourself down."

I sigh, frustrated from being pushed out of my comfort zone. "The night with Peter was just me trying to prove a point. A stupid point, but…"

"What point were you trying to prove with Peter?"

"I guess I was trying to prove I could sleep with someone the same way Edward did. And in a way, I was trying to get back at him. But I couldn't." Tears sting my eyes. "Also… Edward's sister said she didn't even know me anymore. That none of their family does. And I wanted to prove her right."

"Why wasn't your initial reaction to prove her wrong?"

"I don't know. Maybe because I knew what Allie said was true. I barely felt like I knew myself at that point, too."

Jane nods sympathetically. "I see. But you didn't prove her right by sleeping with Peter that night. Why not?"

"Morals, maybe?" I sniffle a laugh, reaching for a tissue. "As if I have any."

"I think you do. You at least have some morals to yourself otherwise you wouldn't be in therapy and focusing on yourself to get to a healthier mindset."

I nod, appreciating that. "My love for Edward stopped me, too. And I think on some level, knowing that I'd likely see Peter again afterward kept me from doing it as well."

"So, with Levi, there were no strings attached."

"Yeah."

"No plans to meet up with him again?" she asks, fishing like a friend would. "A little rendezvous here and there?"

I shake my head. "We didn't even exchange numbers. It was just one night."

"And you're okay with that?"

"Yes. I'm not ready for a relationship. That's not even what I want. I just wanted one night to not be so sad and caught up in my head. To feel desired," I say with confidence. But then that determination wavers when I say, "But if Edward ever found out…" I can't finish that thought.

"Why would he? You two are in the middle of a divorce. And might I remind you, you were still married when Edward slept with another woman," she points out. "He didn't feel obligated to tell you about her until he was forced to."

"As if I've forgotten," I mutter.

Jane offers a sympathetic smile. "Are you still upset with Edward over that?"

"I don't know," I say honestly. "It was the lie that hurt me the most. And I couldn't understand how he was able to claim he loved me at all and still sleep with Kim. But now…"

"But now what?" Jane asks. I stare at my hands, unsure how to put it all into words. "Do you still love Edward?"

I don't think I'll ever stop. "Yes."

Jane hums, like she figured something out, and I look at her. "Keep going. What were you saying before?" she asks encouragingly, letting me take the lead.

"Before I couldn't understand that he could possibly love me if he was able to have sex with someone else," I state. "But now I can. Being with Levi didn't take away from my feelings for Edward."

"More than one thing can be true. In that same regard, Edward loved you—maybe still does—and yet he hurt you when he lied about the mistake he made," Jane remarks. "How do you think you would've reacted if he told you the truth when you asked if he'd been with anyone else?"

I blow out a breath. "I have no idea now. I know I would've been deeply hurt to hear about it, but our trust wouldn't have been broken. We'd still have other issues, though… so maybe this divorce was inevitable."

"Trust is important to you," she states.

"Of course."

"Why?"

"Isn't that a given?"

"Maybe. But I want to hear why it's important to you specifically."

This feels too hard. Too easy.

"Because trust makes you feel secure. You don't have to question where you stand with someone. It's just… the knowledge of knowing you're safe and nothing can change how they feel about you," I mumble. "No matter what."

Jane nods. "Was there another time in your life when you felt unsafe or like your trust was betrayed?"

I squirm under her gaze. "Yes."

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

I like that she gives me the option to opt out of this conversation. But doing so would make me feel like a failure in a way, and I so desperately want to succeed.

"I mean…" I take a deep breath, deciding to open up. "Nearly every day with my family since the age of seven?"

It's the first time I've mentioned my parents and a flicker of recognition flashes in Jane's gaze. Like she finally, truly understands why I'm here.

"Okay," she says with an encouraging tone. "Let's talk more about that."

XXX

Around noon the next day, I finally make it to my doctor's appointment. I fill out new patient paperwork in the waiting area before the nurse calls out my name and brings me back. I follow her to the exam room where she sits near a computer and I settle in the chair in the corner.

"Confirm your date of birth, please," she says.

"October 10, 1989."

"Oh! Happy belated birthday," she says kindly. "I'm Claire, I'll be with you until Dr. Cope comes in."

I smile a little. "Thanks. Sounds good."

Her eyes are on the computer screen as she talks. "I see you made a note on the appointment request about starting antidepressants."

"Yes, that's right. I've been seeing a therapist but I guess she can't prescribe medication so…" I trail off, realizing the nurse doesn't necessarily need to know this.

"Got it. Okay. We went over the records you sent from your former doctor in Seattle, and it looks like you're overdue for your annual physical. Do you want to take care of that today or schedule a new appointment?"

"I can do it today since I'm here." I shrug, then ask, "Wait, does that include a pap smear?" I cringe, and she chuckles.

"No, you had that done three years ago and we only do them every five years as long as results come back normal."

"Okay. Then yeah, I'll do my physical today."

She slides open a drawer and hands me a gown, telling me she'll be back in a few.

I undress quickly, purposefully hiding my underwear beneath my jeans. It's stupid. They've seen more scandalous things than my worn underwear but it's a habit I can't break.

I sit on the table, the paper crinkling under me, and think about the last doctor's appointment I had, which I guess was three years ago. I remember my gynecologist asking how my pregnancy journey was going, and I told her it had ended. That Edward and I were no longer trying to get pregnant, but also not not trying.

My words were simple, but the feeling in my heart was not.

It was aching from rejection that my body wouldn't cooperate with what I wanted. I was sad in a way that I don't think Edward—nor myself—even understood at the time. But acknowledging that meant admitting I was a failure, so we just didn't talk about it. And I thought I was okay with that.

I convinced myself I was okay with a lot of things back then. I think Edward did, too.

From my news that we were no longer trying for a baby, my doctor merely said to reach out if we wanted to hear about our options, and I gave her a noncommittal nod.

That memory makes my eyes burn with tears, but the second the door opens and Claire walks back in, I discreetly wipe them away and regain my composure.

She gets settled on the rolling chair again, typing on the computer.

"I'll just confirm some things and then I'll get your blood pressure and weight," she says breezily. "You're not currently taking any medications?"

"Nope."

"Smoker?" I shake my head. "Alcohol consumption?"

"Not currently. But before it was… a few drinks every few days," I lie.

More like a handful of drinks or a bottle of wine every night.

I wonder if they have some formula to use, knowing people might lie. Like taking the number of drinks and supposed days people claim, and multiplying it by some other number to get the actual answer.

"Diet and exercise?" she asks.

I tell her about my eating habits and how I started doing yoga recently, but otherwise, my job is pretty physical—lots of movement, walking, and lifting gear.

"Are you sexually active?"

"Um…" Yes. As of three days ago. "Yes."

"You aren't on birth control, correct? Do you have an implant or IUD? I don't see anything noted in your chart."

"No, I'm not on birth control and don't have an IUD," I tell her.

"When was your last period?"

I open my mouth to speak, expecting the answer to easily spill out, but realize I don't know.

No date comes to mind.

I stall, then reach for my phone, scrolling through my calendar.

Claire waits patiently.

Panic starts to set in, making it hard to think.

I know I had a period before Edward came to LA. But I've been in such a funk, such a depressive state, starting my cycle was the last thing on my mind.

"I don't really track my period," I tell her, flustered.

I didn't have a reason before because I wasn't having sex. And the only time in my life I did pay attention to my cycle, I was trying to have a baby.

"Is there a possibility you're pregnant?" Claire asks, but I can't answer her. She tries again. "When were you last sexually active?"

"Three days ago. Protected, though."

"When was the last time you had unprotected sex?"

I rack my brain, throat dry as I stammer, "Like… two months ago? Or a little more than two months, maybe? The last day of August, I think."

With my husband.

Soon-to-be ex-husband.

Claire types on the keyboard.

"I've been really stressed recently," I tell her as if it's an excuse for my delayed cycle. "I'm in the middle of a divorce and… and…"

Oh, God.

My chest starts to tighten.

Could this really be happening now?

"It's okay," she says like my world isn't being rocked, then reaches into the cabinet. "Here, take this cup to the bathroom, pee in it, and we'll get our answer. Everything will be okay."

I do as I'm told.

On unsteady legs, I walk to the bathroom down the hall and pee into the cup. I move on autopilot, not really focusing on what I'm doing. I can't even look at myself in the mirror as I wash my hands because I'm scared of what I'd see there. Fear? Elation? Hope?

A minute later, I'm handing Claire the cup and she leaves the room.

I sit on the exam table.

I'm alone.

Despite my initial anxiety, there's a small, tiny, flickering beat of hope within me.

Please, please, please.

Everything we ever wanted at one point… at the worst possible time.

Could I do it? Have a baby?

Do I still want that, all these years later? I don't know because the idea has been off the table for so long. I'd convinced myself it would never happen. I'd convinced myself I was okay with that because I had to be. There were only two options—baby or no baby. Edward and I weren't actively trying to make it happen with treatment, so naturally, we fell into the "no baby" category.

And now I'm here, alone, waiting for a pregnancy result I'm not sure I deserve.

But still.

The saddest, happiest tears burn my eyes, but I don't let myself think about the future anymore.

I can't.

I don't get my hopes up.

Don't let myself panic.

I don't run a hand over my flat stomach or inspect it for the slightest bump.

I don't allow myself to think about any symptoms I've been having. How my tiredness, occasional nausea, emotional sensitivity, and weird appetite could have meant I'm pregnant all along instead of just stressed.

I don't let myself think about Edward's reaction if it's true.

I don't think about him at all.

For those few minutes by myself, I just exist.

Breathe.

Wait.

Claire comes back into the room.

I hold my breath.

And with a small, unsure smile about the news she's about to give me, she confirms I'm pregnant.