five

BELLA

"Before he saw me, they were flirting," I said, pacing back and forth in the living room. "There was attraction. I could feel it. She was smiling, he was leaning closer—it was totally textbook. Maybe I misread the spark?"

Rose raised an eyebrow, taking a slow sip of her wine before setting the glass down. "So you're telling me… he saw you, and then suddenly he wasn't into the blonde anymore?"

I stopped mid-step, frowning. "What are you saying?"

She leaned back, crossing her arms with a smirk. "I'm saying maybe Mr. Billionaire CEO isn't immune to your charms after all. Maybe you were the distraction. Maybe the spark you felt was between the two of you?"

I blinked, her words taking a moment to register. "That's ridiculous," I said, shaking my head. "Edward Cullen doesn't have 'charms.' He's as charming as a cactus. I don't think sparks apply to me."

"Babe you're smart. Surely you can see it," Rose said, tilting her head, "he went from flirting to politely dismissing her the second you showed up. He went from tofu to prime steak."

"That doesn't mean anything," I said quickly, though her point was starting to gnaw at me.

"Doesn't it?" she asked, her tone light but probing. "Because I've seen the way men look at you, Bella. You don't need weird love powers to turn heads."

"Stop," I said, brushing off her comment. "Even if that were true, it doesn't explain why my powers didn't work. I touched them both, Rose. There should've been something."

She shrugged. "Maybe there was. Just not between them. Like I said, you misread the spark."

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped short. Could she be right?

Rose studied me for a moment, her smirk fading into something softer. "You know," she said, her tone casual, "I've always wondered why you've never tried your powers on me."

I froze, her words hitting me like a cold splash of water. "What?"

"You've never done it," she said, her gaze steady. "Why not? I mean, if anyone deserves a little magical love boost, it's me. Help a girl out."

I hesitated, fiddling with the edge of my sleeve. "Because I want to be sure, Rose," I said finally, meeting her eyes. "I want to be absolutely certain that when you meet your person, it's real. No nudges, no shortcuts. Just you knowing, and them knowing. I want your love to be entirely organic."

Rose's expression softened, her lips curving into a faint smile. "That's actually kinda… sweet."

"It's the truth," I said, shrugging. "You're my best friend, Rose. You deserve the kind of love that doesn't need my help to happen."

She sipped her wine again, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied me. "You really believe that, don't you?"

"Of course I do," I said, sitting down beside her.

"Then maybe," she said, setting her glass down and leaning closer, "you should consider that the reason your powers didn't work on Edward is because something's different there, too. Maybe he's not a challenge, Bella. Maybe he's the exception. Maybe this is your organic love story."

I swallowed hard, her words settling in my chest like a weight. The idea that Edward Cullen could be something more—something beyond my control—was both thrilling and terrifying.

"I don't know," I said quietly, more to myself than to her.

Rose gave me a knowing smile, her voice soft but certain. "You will soon enough."

The morning was off to a hectic start already.

I was rifling through my notes for my next appointment, mentally rehearsing the ways I'd steer the conversation when the inevitable blame game began. Couples always came in ready to argue, convinced the other was the problem. My job was to make them see it wasn't about who was wrong—it was about how they could be better together.

I was midway through organizing my thoughts when a sharp knock echoed through the office.

"Come in!" I called, not looking up as I shuffled some papers into a neat pile.

The door creaked open, and I glanced up to see none other than Edward Cullen leaning casually against the doorframe, a coffee cup in hand and an infuriating smirk on his face.

"Cupid's Counseling?" he said, the name rolling off his tongue with a mix of disbelief and amusement. "Really? That's the business name?"

I groaned inwardly. "Don't start," I muttered, setting my papers down. "If you're here to mock me, you can leave now. Bash already handles that department just fine."

"Bash?" he asked, his eyebrows quirking.

"My brother," I said with a sigh, already regretting mentioning him. "He's great at turning anything I do into a joke."

Edward chuckled, stepping fully into the room. "Sounds like my kind of guy."

"Of course he is," I said, rolling my eyes. "Why are you here, Cullen? How did you even figure out where I worked?"

"Well," he said, holding up the coffee cup like a trophy, "I figured I owed you this and I took a page out of your book. I googled marriage counseling near my office and figured this business name was corny enough to be yours."

Ignoring the insults I blinked, surprised. "You… brought me coffee?"

"Don't act so shocked," he said, placing the cup on my desk. "I'm capable of basic human decency."

"Debatable," I muttered, picking up the cup and inspecting it. "What's in it? Spit?"

"Caramel latte, extra foam," he said, leaning against the desk with his arms crossed. "Isn't that what you were drinking when I spilled it all over you?"

I stared at him, genuinely taken aback. "You remembered?"

"I've had enough coffee crashes with you to take notes," he said with a shrug, though his tone was nonchalant.

I took a cautious sip, the sweet, creamy taste instantly lifting my mood. "Okay," I admitted, setting the cup down. "This is good. But don't think this means I'm letting you off the hook for your attitude."

He smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it, Bells."

The nickname wasn't uncommon, but hearing it leave his lips made me want to melt.

"So," I said, leaning back in my chair and folding my arms. "What's the real reason you're here? You don't strike me as the type to go out of your way for anyone."

He tilted his head, studying me for a moment. "Maybe I was a little curious."

"Curious?"

"About you," he said simply. "You're… different. I can't quite put my finger on as to why."

I raised an eyebrow. "Different how?"

He shrugged, his smirk softening into something more thoughtful. "Most people I meet either kiss up to me or avoid me altogether. You don't do either of those things."

"Maybe because I'm not intimidated by you," I said, my tone light but pointed.

"I noticed that," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

For a moment, the air between us felt charged, like we were both waiting for the other to say something more. But before I could respond, a glance at the clock reminded me of my looming appointment.

"Not that I don't appreciate the coffee," I said, standing and gesturing toward the door, "but I've got a session starting soon."

"Ah," he said, straightening. "Wouldn't want to keep you from saving all the toxic marriages."

"You can go now," I said, rolling my eyes.

He grinned, heading toward the door. But just before he stepped out, he turned back, his expression unreadable.

"Thanks for the coffee," I said, lifting the cup slightly.

"Anytime," he said, his smirk returning. "See you around, Cupid."

He's out the door before I can question the new nickname, leaving me staring after him, my thoughts spinning.

Why did he have to be so… infuriatingly intriguing?

The minute Bash strolled into my office, I knew I was in for trouble.

He leaned against the doorframe with his signature smirk, the kind that screamed I'm here to ruin your day. His brunette hair in its signature dishevelled mess, his brown eyes hunting for its victim of his wit. Right know they're trained on me as he runs a hand over his stubbled jaw.

"Hey, little sis," he said, sauntering in and dropping unceremoniously into one of the chairs in front of my desk.

I glared at him, setting my pen down. "What do you want, Bash?"

He shrugged, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "How's Rose?"

"That's on a need to know basis and you don't need to know. She's not interested in you," I snapped, narrowing my eyes.

His grin widened. "She was fantastic in bed, though."

I threw my hands up, groaning. "I can't believe she fell for your bullshit. You're insufferable."

"College parties," he said with a shrug, as if that explained everything, "even the strongest fall to my easy charm."

Before I could unleash the rant brewing in my chest, my phone buzzed, reminding me I had a couple scheduled to arrive soon.

I stood, walking around my desk. "I have an appointment, so maybe you could—"

"Listen in?" Bash offered, his grin turning devilish.

"Leave," I corrected, shooting him a pointed look.

I grabbed his arm, determined to drag him out of my office, but the sight of someone in the waiting room froze me in place. My heart skipped a beat, my stomach twisting in a mix of shock and dread.

Edward Cullen.

Back again. It'd only been a few days since his coffee cup visit. I'd thought of little else since.

He was sitting there, flipping through a magazine like he hadn't barged into my life enough already.

I stared, rooted to the spot, as his sharp green eyes lifted and landed on me.

He smiled—actually smiled—and stood. "Bella. Hey."

Bash snorted softly beside me, clearly entertained by my reaction.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, keeping my voice steady despite the growing confusion.

Edward's gaze flicked to Bash briefly before returning to me. "I thought you were with a couple, so your receptionist told me to wait."

Bash folded his arms, watching the exchange with open amusement. "Hi. I'm Bella's bigger and hotter brother," he said to Edward, holding out a hand.

"Don't touch him!" I shouted, making both men freeze.

Edward's brow furrowed. "What?"

"He never washes his hands," I lied quickly, glaring at Bash.

"Why would you even…" Bash muttered, rolling his eyes.

I ignored him and turned back to Edward, plastering on a polite smile. "Why don't you come with me, Edward?"

Edward nodded, though he still looked confused.

I walked toward my office, motioning for him to follow.

Behind us, Bash called out, "Oh, by the way, Mother said to remind you to give her a call. She's got riveting news that I just know you'll be thrilled by."

I flipped him off without turning around and slammed the door shut behind Edward.

"Well," Edward said, his tone laced with sarcasm as he took a seat in the armchair in front of my desk. "He seems fun."

I sat down, shaking my head. "You've got a lot in common, actually."

"Not sure if that's a compliment or an insult," Edward said, smirking.

"It's an insult. You're both total pains in my ass," I deadpanned, crossing my arms. "What are you doing here, Cullen?"

He leaned back in the chair, his smirk fading into something more serious. "It's my parents. I think they need help."

That caught me off guard. I tilted my head, studying him. "Your parents?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Things have been… off between them lately. I don't know if it's salvageable, but I figured you might be able to help them see eye to eye. If only for 10 minutes. It'd give all of us some peace and quiet."

For a moment, I didn't say anything, too stunned by the vulnerability in his tone.

Edward Cullen, the man who claimed love was a liability, was asking me to help his parents?

"Well," I said finally, leaning forward, "you've certainly got my attention."

I leaned forward slightly, resting my elbows on the desk, trying to keep my expression neutral. Inside, though, I was caught between surprise and curiosity. A little touched he trusted me with this.

"What issues are they having, exactly?" I asked, my tone measured.

Edward let out a sigh, his shoulders tensing as he ran a hand through his hair. "They argue a lot. About… everything. Little things, big things. My dad's temper flares up, and my mom gets defensive. It's like they're constantly on edge with each other."

I nodded slowly, waiting for him to continue.

"They've been married for years," he went on, his voice tinged with frustration. "They've had rough patches before, but this… this feels different. My mom keeps talking about how she's 'exhausted,' and my dad just shuts down or snaps back at her. I'm concerned divorce is on the horizon, but I just can't ever picture them doing that to each other. It would destroy them."

He genuinely cares. This is a new side to Edward, and I'm intrigued by it.

"Do you know what's triggering the arguments?" I asked gently.

Edward shrugged, leaning back in the chair. "It could be anything. My dad retired after handing the company over to me, but it's as if he never really stopped and hung up the corporate hat. He leaves her feeling like he's not present… hell, they even argue about what to eat for dinner. It's like they've forgotten how to talk to each other without fighting."

I studied him for a moment, noticing the tension in his jaw and the way his hand tightened into a fist briefly before relaxing. This wasn't just about his parents. This was about him, too.

"Why does this bother you so much?" I asked softly.

He blinked, his eyes narrowing slightly. "They're my parents. Why wouldn't it bother me? I love them both and I know how incredible that can be together."

"Because," I said, tilting my head, "you've told me before that love is a liability. If you don't believe in it, why does their relationship matter to you?"

His jaw tightened, and he looked away briefly before meeting my gaze again. "Just because I don't believe in it for myself doesn't mean I want to see them fall apart."

I nodded, sitting back. "Fair enough. Have they mentioned divorce?"

Edward hesitated before shaking his head. "No, but… I feel like they're circling it. My mom's been staying with my sister a lot, and my dad doesn't even seem to notice. He's buried in work, like always. My mother calls me to vent every other day. I can't be the support she needs in that way."

I tapped a pen against my desk, thinking. "Do they know you're here?"

He shook his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "No. They'd kill me if they did. They're proud."

I chuckled softly. "Well, I can't exactly force them to come in for a session, but I could give you some advice—things you might try to help them reconnect."

He raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Simple things," I said. "Encourage them to spend time together doing something they both enjoy. Help them focus on communication—really listening to each other instead of just reacting. And maybe, if you're willing, talk to them yourself. Let them know you care about what's happening."

Edward leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he considered my words. "You really think that'll help?"

"It's a start," I said. "But they have to want to make it work. You can't fix this for them."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair again. "Yeah. I know."

For a moment, the room was quiet, the weight of his concern hanging in the air.

"Thank you," he said finally, his voice quieter than usual.

"You're welcome," I replied, my tone soft. "And for what it's worth, I think it's… admirable, that you're doing this for them. They're lucky to have a son like you."

He looked up at me, his expression unreadable. "Don't make it weird, Cupid."

I rolled my eyes, smirking. "Too late, Cullen."

For the first time, his smirk softened into something genuine. It was fleeting, but it was there. And as he stood to leave, I couldn't help but feel like I'd just seen another side of Edward Cullen—one he didn't show to many people.

I raised an eyebrow as Edward stood, brushing his hands against his thighs. "Wait," I said, tilting my head. "Why do you keep calling me that? Cupid?"

He shrugged, his expression unreadable but laced with a faint smirk. "A nickname. Seems fitting."

"Fitting?" I repeated, crossing my arms. "Why?"

He leaned casually against the back of the chair, as if he were in no rush to explain. "You're a marriage counselor, aren't you? You're out here spreading love and building relationships. Feels like Cupid to me. "

I narrowed my eyes, unconvinced. "Does that mean you see yourself as a lost cause? Because I'm starting to think you're more interested in love than you let on."

Edward let out a soft chuckle, his gaze drifting away momentarily. "I'm not interested in love, so you can keep your arrows as far away from me as possible. But I am interested in fixing this mess with my parents."

I let it slide, for now. "Fine. Let's talk about them. Have you ever seen them in love? I mean, really in love?"

He nodded slowly, his smirk fading as his expression softened to something more dreamy. "Yeah, I have. When I was a kid, they were… well, they were all over each other. Always sneaking kisses, laughing together. It was like they couldn't get enough of each other. I would cringe whenever my dad smacked her ass infront of us."

He paused, his gaze distant for a moment before he added, "I even walked in on them once."

My eyebrows shot up, a laugh slipping out before I could stop it. "Oh, that must have been—"

"Scarring," Edward interrupted, his tone deadpan.

I couldn't help but laugh again, covering my mouth with my hand. "Well, I'm sure it gave you a… realistic perspective on relationships."

He shook his head, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Let's just say I learned to knock after that."

For a moment, the tension between us eased, replaced by a quiet understanding.

"They were happy once," Edward said, almost to himself. "I just… I don't know how it got so bad. What does it say for the rest of us if even the strongest fall."

"They can find their way back," I said softly. "But it's not going to be easy. And you can't carry this for them."

He looked at me, his green eyes sharp but thoughtful. "I know. But if I can do something—anything—to help, I will."

"You've already taken the first step," I said, smiling. "And for the record, they haven't fallen.."

He held my gaze for a moment longer before nodding. "Thanks, Bella."

"Anytime, Cullen," I said, standing and walking him to the door.

As he left, I couldn't shake the feeling that Edward Cullen was a man full of contradictions—and that, somehow, I was starting to see the pieces he kept hidden from the rest of the world.