Okayyyy. I'm updating even though I kinda don't want to. Doesn't feel fair to keep my chapter from y'all when it's FFn's fuckery to blame lol just make sure to go back if you missed any chapters! I'm not even asking for reviews lol just that you're up to date with the story and know what's going on! :3

Thanks so much for still being here if you areeee! See you next week!

We're picking up in EPOV again, after Mama Esme drops him at the airport. She's an angel, that is all.

43
- a little bit yours -

Edward POV

Once I'm at the airport, security takes longer than expected and my flight back to LA is delayed by an hour. Both of those minor inconveniences would normally irritate the shit out of me, but the talk with my mom leaves me in a better mood than I've been in for a long fucking time.

I buy coffee and sit in a cafe while I wait, wondering if Bella is already out in the hills for that photoshoot.

I still hate the idea, but know I need to get over it. She's always been tenacious when it comes to her work. It's always been something I loved about her. And I still do… but now that she's having my baby, I need her to be a little more cautious.

Despite the urge I had to pull away from her last night before we ended our FaceTime, I send her a text.

Edward: Please don't walk off a cliff today.

I'm not expecting a text back, let alone a call, but her name and familiar photo flash on my screen, so I answer.

"So, don't walk off a cliff today, but any other day is fine?" she asks, her voice light.

It sounds like she's driving.

"No. And you shouldn't be looking at your phone or reading texts while you're operating a motor vehicle."

"I didn't look at my phone. The car read your message aloud over the speakers. My eyes are on the road, and my hands are firmly on the wheel, Dad."

I smile a little and drink my coffee. It's early but she sounds like she's in a good mood. I feel a little lighter today too. I know it's because of the talk with my mom but I think it partly has to do with Bella and me opening up to each other a little last night. Despite the apprehension I feel toward her, I do want us to be on good terms.

"I know you're joking by calling me that, but that's exactly what I am now. Or will be, in six months," I clarify.

"You're already a dad," she says, her voice tender. "You were a dad the moment I told you."

"Yeah," I agree, my voice low.

"I meant to ask you when we were talking last night—what did you do with the sonogram I left last week?"

"It's in my wallet," I tell her.

"It is?"

"Why do you sound surprised?"

"Because with how things ended in your dressing room, I wasn't sure what you were gonna do with it."

I feel like an asshole. "I was pissed and hurt, but not about the baby, Bella. Never about that."

She exhales heavily, sounding relieved. "Okay."

"So, where are you?" I ask.

"I'm driving back home. Where are you?"

"Still at the airport. My flight is a little delayed."

Bella's quiet. "Do you need someone to pick you up later?"

"You're offering to grab me from the airport?"

"If you need me to, I will."

"That's moving a little fast, don't you think?" I ask, hoping she detects the humor in my tone.

"You're right. Having a baby together is one thing, but rides from the airport blur the lines too much," she jokes in return.

I breathe out a laugh, but when I actually think about her picking me up, it doesn't feel safe. Sitting in a confined space with her. Suffocating in her familiar scent. Having nothing to do but sit there and watch her drive. Staring at her stomach, looking for signs of a bump.

"Cecily is sending a car for me." I immediately updated her once I found out about the delay because I'll miss the meeting Rosalie and I have with the producers. "I have to head straight to the studio. Thanks, though."

"Cecily is your publicist?" Bella asks, curious.

"Yeah."

"What made you want to get one of those?" she wonders, and I can't place her tone. "You've never had one before, and I'm pretty sure you've referred to them as money-hungry egotists in the past."

"I definitely said that. And… I don't know. Seemed like a good idea, letting her handle some shit for me. And she kind of kept pushing me to hire her."

"I'm sure she did," Bella says with what sounds like a slight hint of jealousy in her voice. "Does she know about me? Or about… us?"

"No," I say honestly.

"Oh." Bella goes quiet. "If she's a good publicist and has done her homework, she knows about me."

"Okay, that's fair," I agree. "Let me rephrase it then—we've never talked about you. She's never asked me about you."

"Not even after I interrupted you two last week?"

"No."

The line is quiet again.

"Okay. I just…" Bella pauses.

"What?"

"It's not my place. I understand that. But I didn't like seeing you with her. Alone in your dressing room and drinking."

I want to tell her I don't like the idea of her having sex with another man, but I bite my fucking tongue because I'm trying to move past that. I'm trying to accept that we've both made mistakes.

"It was just work," I explain. "I'd had a bad day and wanted a drink."

"Okay. Sure. But I don't drink with my clients."

"Well, yeah. You're pregnant," I quip.

"You know what I mean, Edward."

"I do know what you mean. And you're right—it's probably not your place. But I can't say I wouldn't react the same way if I found you in the same position with some guy," I admit. "Nothing is happening with Cecily. Nothing ever will. Is that what you need to hear?"

"I don't know," she sighs. "I'm sorry. It's fine. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Yeah, maybe." A mutually agreed silence settles between us. "Are you heading to or from the photoshoot?" I wonder, shifting to a safer subject to keep this call cordial and potentially drama-free.

"Heading home, actually. I was on my way there, but the family I was supposed to meet rescheduled at the last minute because one of their kids started throwing up in the car."

I cringe. "Rough way for them to start the day."

"Yeah. I'm bummed that I woke up early, but I guess there are some things out of my control and theirs. I won't charge them a fee this time, but if it happens again, I'll probably have to."

"When did they reschedule for?"

"Next Saturday, same time and place. Hopefully no puking child."

"What time and which place?" I ask.

"Five-thirty at Runyon Canyon."

"In the morning," I clarify.

"Yes. That gives us about thirty minutes to hike to the top and forty-five minutes to shoot with decent lighting before sunrise."

"Don't most places like that have strict sunrise-to-sunset hours?"

"I don't know. Maybe?"

"Meaning you're going before sunrise when it's still closed. And not well-lit. Is that smart?"

"I think it's fine. If we don't get there early, parking will be a nightmare and the trail will be too packed. I need daylight that's not harsh and zero people in the background."

"Maybe I should go with you. To help. I can carry stuff for you or whatever."

"I won't have anything other than my camera."

I drink my coffee. "Then I'll just be there. I don't know."

"You don't have to do that, Edward," she says softly. "Really."

"I know I don't have to. And I'm not doing it for you," I lie. "I'm doing it for my peace of mind. So really, I'm being selfish."

Her laugh is breathy and short, but it sounds good. Happy, maybe. Content.

"You're not selfish. It's a sweet offer, and I'd appreciate having you there," she agrees before sounding hesitant. "But I, um… I don't know. I guess I thought you were mad at me last night."

"When?" I ask, but I already know.

"Right before you hung up. Things felt okay between us, but then you were like no problem," she mimics the clipped tone I used, "and then you abruptly ended the FaceTime. So I was like… okay. It felt weird."

"How should I have ended the call?" I ask. "Night, baby? I love you?"

She huffs an annoyed laugh. "Are you saying that to be cruel? Because ouch."

"No. Not purposefully. Maybe that was shitty to say just now, but I'm genuinely curious how you wanted that call to end," I say, thinking of my mom's words and how Bella and I need to be honest with each other. "I got caught up with you last night. It felt good to talk and just… be. But then that fucking scares me because I don't know what's going to happen and what you expect. Or what I even expect."

The line is quiet and I wish I could see her face right now.

"You didn't do anything wrong by hanging up like that," she reassures me. "I just didn't expect to feel so shitty when we got off the phone. That's all. It was like whiplash. The call started off rocky, got better, and then bam. Back to your cool demeanor and… and that's fine. If that's how it has to be with us, I can deal but I just need to readjust my brain a bit. The fact that we're even able to talk at all and not blow up at one another is a good start. So I should just be grateful for that, I guess."

"I wasn't mad when we hung up last night. I was just… sad, I guess. We need to have that conversation, like you said. About boundaries. Expectations. I don't want to push for more than I'll get. And I don't want to expect shit just to be disappointed."

"I know," she agrees softly. "I feel the same way and have all of those same worries."

"So, same page, yet again?"

I can hear her smile when she says, "Surprisingly, yeah. Two days in a row. Wow."

"We had almost ten years of agreeing, Bella. Two days is nothing."

Standing, I throw away my empty coffee and head toward my gate.

"I'm kind of nervous," she admits. "To have that talk. And to be around you."

I am, too, but I say, "What's the worst that can happen? We're already getting divorced."

"Come on," she chastises. "It's not funny. I don't want either of us to hurt any more than we already do, that's why I'm nervous. We say stuff sometimes to purposely hurt. And then other times it's accidental pain caused by honesty. I'm tired of us hurting. It's exhausting."

My mom's advice is there again in the back of my mind.

Honesty.

I don't tell Bella it'll be okay because I don't know if it will.

"I wasn't trying to be funny with my comment about our divorce," I mumble. "Maybe just deflecting because I'm nervous too, okay?"

"Okay," she whispers.

"My mom and I were talking this morning and I told her you're pregnant," I finally say.

"Wait. Esme knows?"

"Yeah."

"That's… big. I wish you would've started off the phone call with that news, but how'd it go?" she asks, and there's no defensiveness in her tone the way there was when I mentioned I'd told Allie. "Wait, don't tell me. If her reaction was bad, I don't think I want to know. I don't think I could handle that right now."

I hate how badly my sister got in her head.

"You know my mom loves you, Bell. She always has."

"I mean… used to, yeah. I assumed when Allie told me your family doesn't know me anymore, it meant they all hated me. And I… I never felt more alone in my entire life than when she said that. I knew part of what she was saying was true, but…" she trails off until she stops speaking.

"Fuck Allie," I say simply. "Nothing she says is a reflection of anyone but her deluded thought process. My mom's reaction wasn't bad. She's really happy. Probably really curious about a lot of things, but she didn't push for too much. It was a good talk. And my dad knows now, too. I told him when he came downstairs right before my mom drove me to the airport."

"And he was happy, too?"

"Oh, yeah." I grin. "He got choked up. He's always been a softie though. I think he'll be even more so now that he's gonna be a grandpa. But he said he doesn't want to be called that. He wants to be called Poppy."

"Well, I hate to break it to Carlisle but he's gonna get whatever name our baby gives him," Bella laughs.

I'm still smiling. "I told him the same thing."

"Well, I'm relieved they took it well. I've always loved your parents and I know you care about them and their opinions. I'm sure it feels good for you to have their approval."

I want to know where her head is really at. I'm pretty sure she's thinking of her own parents and their lack of everything, and I wonder if they know yet. I'm pretty sure they don't. And an innate, protective part of me wants to be around when she tells them. Another protective part of me doesn't want them to ever fucking know.

"My mom sent some stuff back with me for you. For the baby," I say instead, hoping that my mom's support can be enough for her right now.

"She did?"

"Yeah. My old baby blanket and the stuffed sloth I used to carry around are in my suitcase. Oh, and some clothes that look way too fucking small for anyone to fit into."

Bella laughs again but I can hear the tender emotion in her voice. "That was really sweet of her. Please tell her I said thank you. Or if it's okay… maybe I can call her soon?"

"I think she'd like that," I admit, walking up to my gate and trying to find an empty seat away from others. "Who else have you told about the baby?"

"Just Rosalie and my therapist."

This is news to me, and my steps falter a bit. "You're going to therapy?"

"Yeah, I started the day before my birthday. I see Jane once a week." When I haven't said anything she mumbles, "I meant it when I said I was going to try to work on myself. Last night you said I'm moving on and it's not even like that, Edward. I'm just trying to figure my shit out. I'm doing it mostly for me, but… it's for you, too, even if it doesn't seem like it. And I'm not saying it's been easy or I'm even that good at it, but going to therapy has been helpful and allowed me to like… dissect stuff from my childhood. And just having someone to talk to who validates me and doesn't make me feel crazy… yeah."

Hearing she's started therapy makes a lot of things click. The difference in her overall demeanor. How she reacts to the confrontations we've had recently. The subtle confidence I've picked up on.

But one thing still doesn't add up for me. Maybe it's unfair to ask her this right now. But I can't stop myself.

"Why couldn't you do all of that while staying with me?" I ask, my voice low and trying my best to mask the rejection I feel.

"Edward," she murmurs sadly. "I don't… I don't know. Maybe because you loved me so much. And I just… didn't love myself at all."

XXX

Despite the short and early flight back to LA, when the flight attendant takes my beverage order, I ask for a whiskey.

It doesn't mellow out the chaos in my mind or loosen the knot in my chest after my phone call with Bella, though.

I'm not sure how to take what she said. Don't know what to do with that information, but it's all I think about while I'm in the air.

You loved me so much. And I didn't love myself at all.

Taking a long drink from the plastic cup, I let Bella's words simmer. Let them boil to the surface, steady and constant. Distracting.

I hate that she said she never loved herself. It makes me feel powerless because I know there's nothing I can do to help her. I also hate that my initial reaction was to get angry, to feel resentful after she said it.

Because why the fuck wasn't the way I felt about her enough?

Why was our marriage tossed aside because of one lie?

Why were my feelings and years of being loyal disregarded because she needed to work through the insecurities and uncertainty created by her parents?

During our time apart, I thought part of the problem was that she didn't think I loved her enough.

That I didn't try harder.

Didn't listen enough.

Didn't question the things she thought she needed to be happy.

Didn't fight for her when she needed it.

Maybe our pending divorce is a culmination of all of those mistakes, but all I heard on the phone was it's not you, it's me. All I took away from our conversation was that I loved her too much, but apparently, it still wasn't enough to keep us together.

I knew anything I said to her at that moment would come out all wrong, and I knew the way I was feeling wasn't right, so I told her the plane was boarding and I had to go.

Now I feel shitty for ending the call like that because she was being vulnerable with me and I couldn't be that way with her in return. I just shut down.

I think about how she's going to therapy.

Think about my own failed attempt at it. How I gave that up and replaced it with self-loathing and liquor.

My plastic cup is empty in record time.

It mocks me. I filled myself up, whiskey in my blood, but I still feel so fucking empty.

Something needs to change, I know that much. And I only have six months to get my shit in order before the baby's here.

I pay for and connect to the plane's Wi-Fi on my phone, and decide to do a little work, a healthier distraction from Bella and the anxiety of the future.

Cecily emailed an hour ago.

Cullen, you have the opportunity to co-host College GameDay next Saturday in Atlanta for the Alabama and Georgia game. Huge deal (you're welcome!) since it's for the SEC Championship. Someone dropped out at the last minute due to health issues, so let me know ASAP and I'll handle flights and a hotel. You'll need to fly out the night before.

I'm about to automatically agree because it is a great fucking opportunity. Even if I wasn't the network's first pick for co-hosting, the fact that I'm on their radar at all—thanks to Cecily—is huge.

Then I realize that's the morning of Bella's photoshoot.

I see Cecily's online, so I start a chat with her instead of replying to her email.

Edward: Hey, just read your email on the plane. Any chance I can fly out to Atlanta that morning instead of the night before?

Cecily: No.

Edward: What about filming something pre-scripted that can air from LA instead of live in Atlanta?

Cecily: No. The point is for you to be at the stadium prior to the game, creating hype, and bantering with the other hosts.

Edward: And if I pass on this opportunity?

Cecily: Real talk? You'd be an idiot.

I have to hand it to her, I do appreciate her succinct reply.

Edward: I have something going on that morning, otherwise I'd say yes.

Cecily: Something more important than the SEC Championship? I'm not buying it.

Edward: More important in a different way.

Cecily: In what way?

Edward: Just more important period, Cecily. It's a personal thing. Not work-related.

Cecily: I'm failing to see the issue here, Cullen. Personal shit will always have to take a backseat. That's just the way it goes in this industry. Chances like this won't always come around. And if you pass now, they might pass up on you in the future.

On some level, I get what she's saying. But I'm going to be a dad soon. Personal is going to be a priority more than professional for a long, long fucking time. And I'm okay with that. I'm looking forward to that.

Since everything is still up in the air with Bella, I know my choices might not need to revolve around her. I know the decisions I make right now, especially professionally, need to be more geared toward myself, not her.

It feels so fucking wrong though.

Edward: Let me think about it.

Cecily: I need an answer by Sunday. You have two days.

I close our chat and draft a new email, finally reaching out to someone I haven't spoken to in a very long time—my therapist.