AN: Sorry so much for the delay! I deleted a good twenty something pages of this story, because I wanted it to go a different way, so I've been brainstorming. Thank you for your reviews!

Bella sat cross-legged on the couch, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her gaze fixed on the carpet. The rhythmic ticking of the clock on the far wall was the only sound in the room, a steady metronome to the storm of emotions she was fighting to contain.

"So," Kebi began gently, breaking the silence, "you had a panic attack yesterday."

Bella's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing slightly. She'd told Kebi what happened yesterday in the kitchen. "Uh, yeah. I mean… I guess so."

"And Edward was there to help you?"

Bella exhaled, her shoulders sagging slightly. "Edward's always there to help me." Her voice was soft, almost apologetic, as though she felt guilty for needing him at all.

Kebi studied her for a moment, her notepad resting on her knee. "How did that feel?"

Bella blinked, caught off guard by the question. "How did what feel?"

"Having someone there when it happened," Kebi clarified, her voice calm but probing. "Letting him see you like that."

Bella hesitated, her fingers tightening on the edge of her sleeve. "I fucking hated it," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I hated that he had to see me like that. I hated that I couldn't stop it."

Kebi nodded, her expression patient. "And what about now? How do you feel about it, sitting here?"

Bella frowned, her brow furrowing as she thought. "I don't know. It's not like I can change what happened."

"No," Kebi agreed, leaning forward slightly. "But you can change how you respond to it. That's what healing is about—not erasing what's happened, but learning to live with it in a way that doesn't define you."

Bella's throat tightened, the weight of Kebi's words settling over her. "I don't even know where to start with that," she admitted, her voice cracking.

Kebi's gaze softened. "That's okay. You don't have to know. But I do think we need to talk about something—something that came up during your panic attack."

Bella looked up sharply, her body tensing.

"You said you thought you were back there," Kebi said gently, not looking away. "In that room."

Bella's breath hitched, her fingers curling into her palms. "I did," she said finally, her voice hollow. "It felt so real. I could hear them, smell that place. It was like I never left."

Kebi waited, giving Bella the space to continue.

"They… they told me what they'd do to me if no one came," Bella said, her words trembling. "They said I'd beg them to stop, that no one would find me in time." Her voice broke, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "And for a while… I believed them."

The room was heavy with silence, Bella's admission hanging between them like a fragile thread.

Kebi leaned forward, her voice strong and full of warmth. "Bella, you survived something unimaginable. The things they said, the things they did—those are meant to break a person. But they didn't. You're still here. You're still standing."

Bella shook her head, her lips trembling. "I don't feel strong. I feel… broken."

Kebi's gaze didn't waver. "Strength isn't about never breaking, Bella. It's about what you do with the pieces. It's about allowing yourself the time to rebuild, even when it feels impossible."

Bella swallowed hard, her chest tight. "What if I don't know how to do that? What if I can't?"

"You don't have to do it alone," Kebi said firmly. "You have Edward. You have your team. And you have me. But the first step is letting go of the idea that healing has to look a certain way. It's not about being who you were before—it's about discovering who you are now."

Bella's hands relaxed slightly, her fingers no longer digging into her sleeves. She looked up at Kebi, her voice quiet. "But what if they see me as weak?"

"They won't," Kebi said, her tone resolute. "They'll see you as someone who faced the worst and is still fighting. And if anyone mistakes that for weakness, that's their failure, not yours."

Bella's lips parted as though to respond, but the words didn't come. Instead, she nodded, a single tear slipping down her cheek.

Kebi offered a small, encouraging smile. "Yesterday was hard, but it doesn't define you. It's just one moment in your journey. And today, you've already taken another step forward by being here, by sharing this with me."

Bella let out a shaky breath, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "I don't know if I'm ready to take more steps yet," she said honestly.

Kebi nodded. "That's okay. It's not about how fast you move—it's about keeping yourself moving, even if it's just an inch at a time. And I'll be here for every step you take."

For the first time, Bella felt something shift inside her—not an end to the pain, but a tiny flicker of hope. A belief that maybe, just maybe, she could find her way through this.

She sat back in her chair, her arms no longer crossed, her gaze steady as she looked at Kebi. "I'm ready to try, though," she said softly.

Kebi smiled warmly, her eyes bright with pride. "That's all you need to do, Bella. Just try."

…

Later that evening, Bella was curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over her legs, a stack of old case notes balanced on her lap. She flipped through the pages, her brows furrowed in concentration as she made annotations in the margins with a blue pen. The sound of quiet, familiar music played softly from her speaker, filling the room with a sense of calm.

Edward was seated in the armchair beside from her, his gaze shifting from the TV to her every once in the while.

"Hey," he said, his voice cutting through the quiet.

Bella glanced up, her pen pausing mid-note. "Hmm?"

Edward leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "What do you say we go out tonight?"

Bella's eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. "Out?" she echoed, placing the pen down. "Like to the bar?"

Edward shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "No, not pool. I was thinking a restaurant."

Bella's head tilted slightly, the gears clearly turning in her mind. Her lips curled into a slow, playful smirk. "Edward Masen," she drawled, "are you asking me out on a date?"

"Yeah," he said, swallowing. "A real one this time."

Bella's smirk widened, and she pretended to mull it over, tapping her finger against her chin. "Hmm, let me think about it…"

Edward raised an eyebrow, his expression amused but expectant.

Finally, Bella nodded, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Okay. Yes."

Edward grinned, his eyes lighting up. Before he could say anything, Bella added slyly, "But for the record, those other dates totally counted."

Edward chuckled, leaning forward and capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. When they parted, he rested his forehead against hers, his smile never fading. "Maybe," he said softly, "but tonight, it's official."

Bella nodded, her cheeks slightly flushed. "Official it is, then."

Edward stood and lingered near the door, his keys in hand and gaze fixed on Bella. She was still curled up on the couch, though now her feet were propped up on the coffee table, her case notes forgotten beside her.

"I'll be back around six," he said, slipping on his jacket. "You okay here while I go grab something nice to wear?"

Bella gave him a teasing grin. "Edward, I'm not five. I think I can handle myself for an hour."

"Alright, just checking. And wear something nice, okay?"

Bella's brow quirked, her grin widening. "Something nice? Where are we going?"

Edward's smile turned secretive. "It's a surprise."

"You know I hate surprises."

"You trust me."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but her expression was more amused than annoyed. "Always. But if this surprise involves karaoke, I might actual have to kill you."

Edward laughed, stepping closer. "Noted. Six o'clock, then?"

Bella nodded, and Edward leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "See you soon."

As the door clicked shut behind him, Bella exhaled and sat up, stretching her arms over her head. She glanced at the clock: 5:01 PM.

Time to do this.

…

In the quiet of her apartment, Bella moved through her evening routine. After a quick shower, she stood in front of the mirror, a towel wrapped securely around her. She combed through her damp hair, her gaze catching on her reflection.

The bruises on her arms and shoulders had faded significantly over the last four weeks, but faint yellowish-green shadows remained, a reminder of the violence she'd endured. Her ribs still ached at the edges, though the sharper pain had dulled to an ever-present soreness. She reached up to touch the faint line around her neck—almost invisible now, but she could still feel the phantom pressure whenever she thought about it.

Her stomach twisted, a familiar anger bubbling up as she looked at the marks that refused to completely vanish. Caius had taken so much from her—her peace, her trust in the world, even her sense of control over her own body.

Bella closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. Not tonight.

She reached for her makeup bag and pulled out a concealer stick. Carefully, she dabbed the product over the faint marks on her neck, wincing slightly when her fingers pressed too hard. The physical pain wasn't much anymore, but it still jolted her in unexpected ways. As she blended the concealer, she forced herself to meet her own gaze in the mirror.

"You're okay," she whispered, though her voice wavered.

Once she was satisfied with her reflection, Bella stepped away and opened her closet. After a moment of hesitation, she reached for a navy-blue dress she hadn't worn in months. It had a soft lace overlay and a flowing skirt that grazed just above her knees. She slid it on carefully, wincing as she adjusted it over her still-healing ribs. Flats completed the look—heels were out of the question for now, her body not quite ready for the strain.

She left her hair loose, pinning back a few strands to frame her face. The soft waves cascaded over her shoulders, and when she glanced at herself in the mirror again, she felt something she hadn't in weeks: a flicker of confidence.

The clock read 5:58 PM. Right on time.

A knock at the door broke the silence, followed by Edward's familiar voice. "Bella?"

She walked to the door and opened it, stepping aside as he entered. Edward froze in place when he saw her, his eyes widening slightly. For a moment, he just stared, his gaze tracing her from head to toe.

"Wow," he said finally, his voice low and filled with awe. "You look… amazing."

Bella felt her cheeks warm under his attention, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks," she said softly. "You don't look too bad yourself."

Edward had opted for a white button-down tucked neatly into black slacks. It was simple, but on him, it looked effortlessly sharp.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice softer now, his eyes meeting hers.

Bella nodded, slipping her hand into his. "Let's go."

The restaurant Edward chose was tucked away on a quiet street, its exterior understated but inviting. Twinkling fairy lights framed the entrance, their soft glow creating an almost magical atmosphere. As they stepped inside, the soft lull of jazz music mingled with the low murmur of conversation. Dark wood accents and candlelit tables lent the space an intimate warmth, and the smell of freshly baked bread and roasted garlic filled the air.

The hostess, a young woman with a bright smile, approached them. "Welcome. Do you have a reservation?"

"Under Masen," Edward replied.

She glanced at her tablet and nodded. "Right this way." She led them to a cozy corner table by the window, where a small vase held a single white rose. "Enjoy your evening," she said, setting menus in front of them before retreating.

Bella's eyes widened as she took in the surroundings. "This place is beautiful," she said softly, her fingers brushing over the linen napkin on the table. "How did you find it?"

Edward grinned. "I have my sources."

"Your sources being Google?" Bella teased, arching an eyebrow.

"That, and I might've had a little help from Rosalie. She mentioned it once, said it was one of her favorite spots."

Bella shook her head, smiling. "Smart man."

They spent a few minutes perusing the menu in companionable silence, occasionally exchanging comments about the dishes.

"Seafood risotto looks good," Bella said, her eyes scanning the options.

Edward glanced up. "You're a seafood person?"

"Absolutely. Give me shrimp, scallops, crab—pretty much anything, and I'm happy." She glanced at him over the menu. "What about you?"

"I'm more of a steak guy," Edward admitted. "Though I won't say no to a good salmon."

"Steak? Predictable," Bella teased, watching as his brow furrowed in concentration. "And why does it look like you're solving a mystery over there?"

"Hey, this is serious business," Edward said, glancing up with mock severity. "You can't just pick a random entrée. It's a process."

Bella laughed. "Fine, what's your 'process,' then?"

Edward leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. "Step one: eliminate anything with olives."

Bella gasped, feigning offense. "Olives are amazing!"

"Olives are little balls of disappointment," he countered, grinning.

"You're insane," Bella said, shaking her head. "What's step two?"

"Step two is anything with mushrooms," Edward continued, his expression deadpan.

Bella's jaw dropped. "Okay, now you're just attacking my taste in food."

Edward chuckled. "I'm just saying, if I wanted to eat fungus, I'd go camping."

When the waitress arrived, Bella ordered the seafood risotto, while Edward settled on a classic steak dish.

As the waitress walked away, Bella folded her hands under her chin, studying Edward. "So, what's something I don't know about you?"

Edward tilted his head, his lips twitching into a smile. "Hmm. I can juggle."

Bella blinked. "What?"

"Yeah," Edward said, his tone completely serious. "Three apples, no problem. Four, if I'm feeling fancy."

Bella narrowed her eyes, trying to gauge if he was joking. "Okay, I want proof."

"Next time we're in a produce section, it's on," he said, grinning.

Bella shook her head, laughing. "I can't believe I'm dating a secret circus performer."

"Your turn," Edward said, leaning forward slightly. "What's something I don't know about you?"

Bella thought for a moment, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. "I once won a hot dog eating contest."

Edward stared at her, wide-eyed. "You're lying."

"Nope. Fifteen hot dogs in ten minutes," Bella said, sitting back with a smug grin.

"I'm simultaneously impressed and horrified."

"You should be," Bella quipped.

Their food arrived shortly after, and they both paused their banter to dig in. The conversation ebbed and flowed easily, shifting between lighthearted jokes and playful debates. It felt easy—normal, and Bella was glad to feel it. Glad to not feel like she couldn't breathe just doing simple tasks. Glad to be able to laugh and smile.

Glad to be here with Edward.

In fact, they were so engrossed in their bubble that they didn't even notice the man sitting alone at a table in the back, his eyes occasionally flicking toward them. He sipped his drink casually, blending into the background, his expression unreadable.

...

By the time they left the restaurant, the cool night air greeted them with a gentle breeze. The streets were quiet, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. Bella tilted her head back, inhaling deeply, her lips curving into a small smile.

"It's nice out," she said, her voice light. "Seems like a waste to just head home."

Edward glanced at her, his hands sliding into his pockets. "You want to walk for a bit?"

Bella nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that."

The quiet of the evening enveloped them as they strolled down the sidewalk, their pace relaxed, as though time itself had slowed just for them. The distant hum of traffic blended with the gentle rustling of leaves, creating a symphony of city life at rest. Edward walked beside Bella, his steps matching hers, their shoulders brushing occasionally—a fleeting connection that felt both casual and electric.

Bella glanced at him, her heart skipping a beat at the way he looked at her. His gaze was steady, warm, as if she were the only person who existed in that moment. She quickly averted her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips as she pretended to focus on the sidewalk ahead.

"So," Bella said, her voice breaking the comfortable silence, "what's your go-to dessert?"

Edward chuckled, the sound low and rich. He loved that, despite spending so many months together, she still wanted to get to know him more. "Random, but I'll bite. Chocolate lava cake. No contest."

Bella wrinkled her nose, feigning disgust. "Too rich. You might as well just eat a stick of butter."

"That's kind of the point," Edward shot back, grinning. "What about you, Ms. Dessert Critic?"

"Apple pie," Bella said with certainty. "Warm, with a scoop of vanilla ice cream."

Edward nodded thoughtfully, as if she'd just unveiled the secret to life. "Not bad. Classic. Safe."

"Classic is timeless," Bella countered, nudging him with her elbow. "Not everyone needs an over-the-top sugar bomb to feel happy."

Edward laughed, shaking his head. "I see we've hit our first major disagreement."

"Oh, this is just the beginning," Bella quipped, a teasing smile lighting up her face. "Wait until we get to movies. And not just the ones that make us cry."

Edward groaned playfully. "Oh no. You're not one of those indie film or nothing types, are you?"

Bella smirked. "Only if the movie involves subtitles and an ending that leaves you questioning your entire existence."

Edward clutched his chest dramatically. "I'm in trouble."

They continued down the quiet street, the conversation flowing effortlessly, jumping from movies, to TV shows, and somehow morphing into childhood horror stories. Bella told Edward about the time she'd tried to build a treehouse as a kid and ended up falling and breaking her arm.

"Let me guess," Edward said, his smirk firmly in place. "You refused to let anyone help."

Bella shrugged, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "What can I say? I was determined."

"You're still the same," Edward pointed out, his tone softening.

Bella paused mid-step, raising an eyebrow at him. "Is that a compliment or a critique?"

Edward's expression grew serious, his eyes meeting hers. "It's one of the reasons I love you."

The words hung in the air, unguarded and raw. For a moment, Bella just stared at him, the weight of his confession settling over her like a warm blanket.

Edward blinked, suddenly realizing what he'd said. "Bella, I—" he started, his voice stumbling over the words. "I didn't mean to blurt it out like that. Not that I don't mean it, because I do. I just—"

Bella held up a hand, cutting him off. Her lips curved into a slow smile as she stepped closer, reaching up to brush her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. "Edward," she said softly, her tone teasing but filled with affection, "if you keep overexplaining, I might start thinking you don't mean it."

Edward exhaled sharply, relief and a sheepish grin replacing his panic. "You drive me kind of insane."

"And you love it," Bella shot back, her smile widening.

"I do," Edward said, his voice steady now, his eyes never leaving hers. "I really do."

Bella's gaze softened as she leaned in, her voice a whisper. "Good. Because I just so happen to love you too."

Edward's grin spread, pure joy lighting up his face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Bella confirmed, brushing her thumb along his jawline.

Edward couldn't resist. "I knew it. You said it weeks ago, by the way. When you thought I was asleep."

Bella's jaw dropped. "You were awake?"

"Awake enough to hear it," Edward said, his grin turning cheeky.

"Oh, you're the worst," Bella said, swatting Edward's arm lightly, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

Edward feigned a dramatic wince, rubbing his arm. "Wow, Swan. Resorting to physical violence? I thought you were supposed to be the balanced one in this relationship."

Bella crossed her arms, tilting her head with a mock glare. "I'm warning you, Masen. Keep it up, and I'll aim lower next time."

Edward grinned, stepping closer, his playful demeanor softening as he reached out. His hands cradled her face, his thumbs brushing lightly against her cheeks. "You don't scare me," he said softly.

Bella's breath caught for a moment, the teasing glint in her eyes giving way to something more vulnerable. She searched his gaze, finding nothing but unwavering affection staring back at her. "You probably should be," she murmured, though her voice had lost its edge.

Edward leaned in, his forehead brushing hers before he closed the distance. The kiss was unhurried, tender, yet filled with the weight of everything they hadn't said. It was grounding and electrifying all at once, as though the world had narrowed to just the two of them.

When they broke apart, Bella let her forehead rest against his, her lips curving into a soft smile. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

Edward chuckled, his voice low and full of affection. "Maybe. But I'm your kind of ridiculous."

Bella laughed quietly, her hands finding his, still cupping her face. "Lucky me."

Edward pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her fully, his expression turning serious for a moment. "I mean it, Bella. You make everything… better. Lighter. Even when it's hard, even when it's messy—you just do."

Her heart swelled at his words, her fingers curling around his as she whispered, "You do the same for me."

They stood there for a beat, the quiet street around them almost reverent in its stillness. Edward finally laced his fingers through hers, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

"Let's keep walking," he said, his voice lighter now but no less sincere.

"Lead the way, Masen," Bella replied, smiling as they began to stroll again.

The night wrapped around them like a warm embrace, the city's usual noisiness and distress feeling distant, muted. Bella glanced at Edward out of the corner of her eye, her heart full in a way she hadn't felt in a long time. For the first time in what felt like forever, the ache in her chest was gone. And as they walked hand in hand, she realized she wasn't just with him.

She was home.