Breaking Free

Trigger Warning: This story contains scenes of domestic violence, and physical and emotional abuse. The main character was in an abusive relationship with her ex-boyfriend, who hurt her both physically and mentally. The story also depicts the main character's struggle to escape from the abuse and find love and healing with another person. If you are sensitive to these topics, please read with caution. If you are experiencing domestic violence or need help, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233 or visit their website. You are not alone, and you deserve to be safe and happy.

Chapter 2

BELLA

When the elevator opened on the twelfth floor, Edward motioned for me to lead the way. We walked a short distance in silence before coming to a stop in front of the door at the end of the hall, 12H.

I fumbled with my keys, feeling his eyes on me. I managed to get the key in on the second try and opened the door. He followed me inside.

"Have a seat. It will take me a minute to put some things in the refrigerator," I said, pointing to the couch. I heard it creak as he sat down as I put the cream pie in the refrigerator, Chris' favorite. Standing there for a moment, I tried to calm myself. Chris would be furious if he found out I had an old friend over. He didn't like it when I talked with my old friends, with my dad, or with Carlisle and Esme. He used to praise me for having close friends and family. That changed when I graduated college. I didn't see him every day now. He was a college senior and would graduate in three months.

I felt a cold sweat on my forehead and a knot in my stomach. I had to keep it from Edward, knowing what he would say. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the fear out as I exhaled.

Edward's face was screwed up in confusion. His gaze was fixed on the wall and the pictures hanging there. "Your boyfriend doesn't like his picture taken," he stated, more than asked.

I didn't have the chance to respond.

"Is everything okay, Bella? He's not hurting you, is he?" His voice cracked with his barely contained worry.

I met his eyes as I bit my lip. "No. Everything's fine." I lied, hoping he would buy it.

Bullshit! His eyes said, but he didn't press me. He changed the subject instead.

"Can I see your phone?" He asked casually.

"Why?" I queried, feeling suspicious.

"So I can give you my number," he explained, smiling slightly.

I walked over to where I had deposited my purse and pulled my phone out. Going back and sitting next to him, I unlocked my phone and handed it to him.

His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. I watched nervously as he scrolled through my contacts, finding none of my friends from Forks. Not even his parents' numbers were easily found, buried under my dad's listing.

His eyebrows drew together as he realized something was wrong. He didn't say anything, but his expression was enough to make me feel guilty.

His fingers flew across my phone's screen as he typed something quickly.

"Home," he said softly, handing the phone back to me. "My apartment number is in the Notes." He added, looking into my eyes with a serious expression.

Gratitude filled me as I understood what he meant. He'd given me a lifeline, a way to contact him if I needed help. I would look at his contact information later and to find out where he lived, after Chris left.

"I've got to go, Bella," he said, looking at his watch. "Meeting friends. Text me your number. And maybe we can get together and catch up Friday." He suggested, standing up and heading for the door.

Friday, three days from now. I nodded, feeling a mix of hope and fear. Would I be able to see him again? Would Chris find out? What would happen then?

EDWARD

Bella's living room was a cozy and inviting space, where she could relax and enjoy time with friends. The cream couch and loveseat were arranged in an L-shape, facing the large flat-screen television that hung on the wall. The couch and loveseat were adorned with colorful pillows and throws. They added some warmth and contrast to the neutral tones of the furniture. A soft beige rug covered the hardwood floor, providing a comfortable surface for the feet.

On the opposite wall, a waist-high bookcase displayed a collection of books, magazines, and knick-knacks. The bookcase was made of dark wood, creating a nice contrast with the cream walls. The books reflected Bella's eclectic taste in literature.

Some of the books were old and worn, while others were new and shiny. The magazines were stacked neatly on one of the shelves, offering a variety of topics and perspectives. The knick-knacks included souvenirs from travels, sentimental items, and photos with friends. No photos with her supposed boyfriend.

Above the bookcase, several framed pictures hung on the wall, creating a gallery of memories. The pictures showed happy moments from the her life, such as birthdays, holidays, and vacations with her dad. The frames were of different sizes and shapes, but they all had a simple and elegant design. Unlike her boyfriend, who hated having his picture taken, I loved posing for the camera. But I was nowhere to be seen in any of the photos. Had she erased me from her life?

I heard a noise and turned to see Bella coming out of the kitchen. Her gaze was on the pictures I had been examining.

"Your boyfriend doesn't like his picture taken." I stated rather than ask.

I didn't give her the chance to respond.

"Is everything okay, Bella? He's not hurting you, is he?" My voice cracked with my barely contained worry.

She met my eyes and bit her lip, a sure sign she was going to lie to me. "No. Everything's fine."

Bullshit! I thought, but I wasn't fool enough to call her out on the lie. I would giver her a lifeline, though. I asked for her phone.

And after a moment's hesitation, she went and got it.

I inhaled a deep breath to calm myself. She wasn't acting like herself. She was nervous. Glancing down, I was glad to see her phone was unlocked. Navigating to her contacts, I scrolled through them. The only person from Forks I found was her dad. What the hell? I opened it and noticed several numbers for him. The fax number was Mom's. Work was Dad's. I glance over at her, again wondering what the hell was going on in her life. I hit edit then add. The home option came up and I entered my cell number. In the notes, I put 10C. I navigated out and added her dad to her favorites again with "home" at the end.

"Home," I said, handing the phone back. "My apartment number is in the Notes."

Bella smiled gratefully at me. "Thanks for understanding."

Yes, I understand, Bella. You are in a bad, controlling relationship. I could do nothing to help her unless she asked.

"I've got to go, Bella," I said, looking at my watch before I spoke my mind.

"Meeting friends. Text me your number. And maybe we can get together and catch up Friday," I suggested, standing up and heading for the door.