"You're a doctor."

Edward nods. "You always knew I wanted to be one."

"Is your dad here?"

He shakes his head. "Nope. You're stuck with me."

This day sucks ass.

"I think my nose is broken."

"Oh yeah, that's obvious. So, how did you crash the truck?" he asks, pulling on gloves.

I roll my eyes. "I wasn't paying attention and backed into someone. The truck's steering wheel is unforgiving."

"Well, it is like sixty years old and has basically no safety features. This will hurt." His fingers prod my nose, and I hiss in pain. "We need to get an X-ray first, but it definitely needs to be put back in place."

"Wonderful. Can this day get worse? Are we expecting lightning? Because, at this point, I think I'd be struck by it."

"Nope. It's a rare sunny day here in Forks, so at least you're safe from that. Your scarf is soaked in blood. Let's take that off."

"No!"

It's already loosened before I can grab it, and then he just stares at me as his brow furrows. He gently touches the still-obvious hand prints.

"Bella?"

"Don't."

"You were choked," he says softly.

"It doesn't concern you. Focus on what I came here for. My nose."

"Has Charlie seen this?" His little smirk is long gone, replaced by a frown and worried expression.

"Yes. And so has your dad. So, like I said, it's none of your concern."

Fire fills his green eyes. "Who did this?"

"You don't get to worry about me anymore. You lost that right a long time ago."

He looks down at my ring finger. "You still have the indent of rings on your finger. You just took them off."

"I'll go to Port Angeles for my nose." I try to slide off the bed, but he stops me.

"It was your husband, wasn't it?"

"Stop!" I scream. I grab his hand, prying it off my arm. "Wipe the look of pity off your fucking face."

"I'm sorry," he says, taking a deep breath. "Look, I'll drop it, but let me fix your nose. I won't ask any more questions. You're right. It's none of my business."

I don't want to ask Dad to drive me forty-five minutes to the hospital in Port Angeles, but I can't stand the way Edward is looking at me.

"Just focus on my nose."

He nods. "I'll go order the X-ray. It shouldn't take long."

He leaves, closing the curtain behind him and I sit back down on the edge of the gurney and squeeze my eyes closed. Why did he have to come back?

It hurts like hell, but Edward puts my nose back in place and covers it with a splint. He says I'll have black eyes, but it is what it is. I'm excellent at covering them. He gently wipes away the blood from my face, keeping his thoughts to himself. But I can see the wheels turning in his head as he pieces it all together.

. . . Why I'm back.

. . . Why I took off my rings.

. . . Why there are hand prints on my neck.

"It's not my place . . ." he starts.

I shake my head. "Don't, Edward."

"Just . . . just tell me you're safe now."

"I live with the chief of police. I'm safe."

"I am truly sorry for what I did to you. If I could go back, I would."

I let my tough facade fall for a moment. "I'm sure you would, but the past can't be changed."

"I think about you all the time. Mom has your wedding picture framed, and when I see it, I'm reminded of what I lost."

"Tell her to destroy it."

"You looked beautiful. I mean, you still are of course, but you in that dress . . ."

He doesn't say the words, but I know what he's thinking. It was supposed to be us. It should have been us, but he destroyed that in one drunken night.

"I forgive youi f that's what you need to hear."

"But it's not the truth."

I shake my head. "No. It isn't."

"You, um . . . you're good to go. Make an appointment with Dad in about two weeks to get another X-ray and ensure it's healing."

I nod. "I will. Thanks."

He rips off his gloves and stands from the stool. "Take care of yourself, Bella."

"That's what I'm working on."

He leaves the area and I text Dad that I'm ready. A nurse brings in discharge papers, and I walk out front to wait for him.

I'm ready for this day to end.

It takes Jake two days to respond to my email and it's basically what I expected.

I don't want a divorce. I want you to come home so we can work this out. I'll get help. I'll do whatever you need, but I won't let this marriage go without a fight. You belong with me. You still love me. I just want to hear your voice again, gorgeous.

Please, call me.

I'm not going to call him. Instead, I call Jane and tell her we're going to have to do this the hard way. She says she'll draw up some papers, and I can come in Monday to sign them. Jake has hurt me for the last time. Now, it's my turn to make him feel a fraction of the pain I suffered. Soon, everyone will know the truth. That the charismatic, funny man is a façade, and underneath that lies a monster.

He might lose his job—maybe even get disbarred. I can't bring myself to care. The consequences are his own to deal with. He did this to himself. I gave him the easy option, but his ego won't let him take it. That's not my fault.

Dad knocks on my door, pushing it open the rest of the way. "Carlisle and Esme invited us for dinner."

"Dad, I look terrible."

"Esme wants to see you. She's missed you."

I sigh. I've missed her, too. My mom died when I was five, and Esme was like a surrogate mother to me. She used to braid my hair. She bought me my first bra when I was twelve, and when I started my first period, she explained what it meant—thank God because Dad would have probably scarred the both of us for life. She taught me how to put on makeup and gave me the best life advice.

"Okay." I sigh. "I'll get ready."

He smiles. "Sounds good. I'll meet you downstairs."

I don't bother covering my black eyes from the accident, but I do wear a nice shirt and jacket with a pair of black leggings. I pull my hair into a messy bun and then head downstairs.

The Cullens live about fifteen minutes outside of town in a beautiful wood and glass house. When Dad pulls up, the front door is already opening and Esme is grinning.

I step out of the car, and she closes the distance between us, throwing her arms around me. She doesn't squeeze tightly, at least.

"Oh, I've missed you, Bella," she says, pulling back and looking at me. She puts her hands on my cheeks and kisses my forehead. "Let's get inside. Charlie, would you get Carlisle out of his office for me?"

Dad nods. "Sure."

"And do not take the glass of scotch he offers you, or else we'll never eat dinner."

He laughs. "You know me too well, Es."

She puts her arm through mine, leading me into the large house. "I had Carlisle grill some steaks for us. I know they're your favorite."

"It's a little chilly to grill, isn't it?"

She shrugs. "He wore a coat. So, aside from that accident, how does it feel to be back?"

I take a seat at the island as she starts to mix the salad. "I missed the green and mountains. The concrete jungle wasn't my idea of beauty."

"I would agree. Plus, I'm sure it was so crowded."

I nod. "A few too many people for me."

"Well, I am so glad you're back. We'll have to go to Seattle at some point for a spa day, some shopping, and a delicious lunch once you're up to it."

I smile and nod, but that's the last thing I want to do—except for lunch. I do like delicious food.

As Esme finishes the salad, Carlisle and Dad come into the kitchen—both with a glass of scotch in their hands.

"I thought Esme said no drinks," I tease.

"I believe she meant in my office," Carlisle says, smiling. He leans down and hugs me gently. "It's good to see you again, sweetheart."

"You too."

"All right, let's head to the dining room," Esme says, handing Carlisle the salad bowl. "And I did mean no drinks because I have the perfect wine pairing for dinner. But if you two would rather scotch, it's more for Bella and me."

"Yeah, I could use a drink or three," I say, following behind Esme into the dining room. I take a seat and salivate at the delicious meal in front of me as Esme pours me a glass of wine.

Dinner is amazing, but the wine is even better. Dad and Carlisle stick with their scotch, and we all eventually find ourselves on their deck with the fire pit on high. Esme keeps filling my glass—probably sensing I need a good drunk.

And drunk we all get.

Somehow, I wind up in one of the guest rooms and wake up the next morning with a raging headache. I walk downstairs and find Dad on the couch, still passed out cold. As I make my way into the kitchen for a much-needed cup of coffee, I hear the front door open, but I figure it's Carlisle coming back from his run.

"Do you want some coffee? Also, where's the Advil?" I ask, pouring the steaming hot coffee liquid into my mug.

"I'll take a cup, and Advil is in the drawer in the island," Edward says as I turn too quickly, spilling some of my coffee onto the counter. "Did our parents get you drunk?"

I bite my lip. "I'd say it was mostly your mom's doing. You don't live here, do you?"

He shakes his head, grabbing a hand towel and wiping up my mess. "Not in the house. I have a cabin on the edge of the property. Dad and I usually go running together on Saturday mornings, but I'm assuming he's also still sleeping his hangover off like your dad is on the couch."

"They drank a whole bottle of scotch."

"What was your poison?"

"Your mother's very expensive wine. We drank two bottles. She doesn't let a glass go empty for long."

He chuckles. "No, she doesn't. Here's the Advil."

He opens a drawer and tosses me the bottle, which I do not catch and have to chase after across the kitchen floor. I take four as he reaches for a cup.

"Oh God, I forgot how bad hangovers are." I run both hands through my hair, twisting it back into a bun. "I think I'm secreting wine from my pores."

He's staring at me, and I realize I'm not wearing my jacket but only the short-sleeved blouse, exposing the stitches on my arms.

"Please, don't bring it up," I beg.

He meets my eyes with sad ones. "What the hell happened to you, Bella?"

Tears fill my eyes. He already knows what happened, but it seems he's in disbelief. I suppose the girl he loved would have never let a man lay a hand on her. But I'm not that girl anymore. Jake broke me down with words of love and apologies. I believed in him, and I lost myself.

I bury my face in my hands, and suddenly I'm wrapped in warm arms. I feel his hand hold my head to his firm chest as I sob.

"Let it out," he whispers, rubbing my back. "Just let it out. I've got you."

Don't own Twilight.

Thanks to my beta Fran and prereaders, May, Mary, Sarah, and Christina.