I am sorry it's taken so long to upload a new chapter and respond to your reviews. RL has been crazy and stressful at home and at work. And last week, I was planning on posting this chapter when my computer died. So that was fun.
I appreciate every single one of you who reads, reviews, and favorites this story. Your support means so much and I thank you so much for your understanding and patience while I try to get my life together.
Big thanks to Fran to looking over these chapters and making them pretty ... if there any mistakes, they're mine. Sorry!
SM owns everything Twilight.
Chapter five-
My body aches, and the stiff, unforgiving mattress underneath me doesn't help. There's a little bit of cushion, but it's not enough to give any sort of comfort. I shift, trying to find a more comfortable position, but a sharp sting in my hand has me gasping and my eyes popping open.
The walls are light blue, the color of a cloudless spring day. A small flat-screen television hangs on the wall in front of me; there's a rolling tray at the end of my bed, with a plastic cup of water and bendy straw hanging over the side.
At my father's house, there's one exactly like it, sitting on the nightstand.
I got it the last time I was at the hospital.
Glancing around, I see a darkened bathroom to my left, and a couple of feet away, there's a light wooden door with a small window where I can see people walking past.
On my other side, there's an uncomfortable-looking recliner and a small dresser, along with a window that overlooks a small section of the parking lot and the woods that dominate this area.
Leah is nowhere to be seen, and near my right hand is a remote with little pictures on it; one set to control the television, one to control the bed, another to turn the lights off or on, and the last one calls a nurse.
My hand is hooked up to an IV, and the tiny bit of blood I see underneath the clear tape keeping the needle in place has me grimacing and looking away.
Blood had never bothered me before, but after the accident and my subsequent hospital stay, I couldn't see without remembering Seth's terrified face or his screams just before I passed out.
I press the button for the nurse, and as soon as the door opens, Leah comes flying inside, her cell phone gripped in her hand, her eyes red-rimmed.
"Bella!"
I jump at the loudness of her voice, wincing as pain immediately follows the movement.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she murmurs, reaching for my left hand and squeezing once. "I've been so worried. Are you feeling okay? Do you need anything?"
"Um," I say, my voice hoarse and cracking. I grimace at the taste in my mouth, gagging a little.
Immediately jumping into action, Leah grabs the lidded cup from the rolling tray, the ice rolling around the plastic reminding me of heavy rain hitting the roof of Leah's house.
Bringing the straw up to my lips, I take a slight pull of cold water, trying not to guzzle it down like I want to. I don't do well because I immediately start coughing. Leah rubs my back in small circles, her voice a soft murmur of comfort as I try to catch my breath.
"What happened?" I croak out, taking another tentative sip of water.
"You passed out. I had to call an ambulance."
Closing my eyes, I bite the inside of my lip, already dreading the bill that will come with this recent visit.
"How long have I been out?"
"Off and on for the past six hours."
Her answer catches me off guard because I don't remember waking up before now. Shouldn't I remember being conscious at some point?
"I don't—"
Leah gives me a small smile, brushing some hair out of my face. "You weren't really … coherent per se."
I shake my head because I've never done anything like that to my knowledge.
Is there something wrong with me? When I passed out, did I hit my head, and now I have a concussion?
Before I can ask anything, there's a solid knock on the door before it opens, and an older woman in hot pink scrubs comes walking in, her blue-gray hair in a bun on top of her head. In her hand is a tablet, no doubt containing my chart.
When she sees me, she smiles widely. "Good to see you awake! How are you feelin', hun?"
"Not great."
She nods as if she expected that answer and goes about checking the machines behind me and pulling a thermometer from one of the pockets of her scrubs. She hovers it over my forehead and types it into the tablet.
"Well, you've been through a lot," she says, still typing away. "Pain level from one to ten?"
I stop to think about it, carefully shifting and sucking in a breath. "Eight and a half."
The nurse nods once, still typing away for a few more seconds, before looking up with a bright smile. "Alright. Your doctor will be in shortly to talk to you."
I nod in acknowledgment as my stomach churns at the thought. It's reminiscent of being upset for something I know I'd get in trouble for during my younger years; why I feel this way right now, I'm not sure.
"Can she have something for her pain?" Leah questions.
"I'll let her doctor know, and we'll go from there. Dr. Gerandy should be in shortly."
With that, she leaves, and I turn to Leah, swallowing thickly at the stress evident on her face. Guilt chokes me, and I swallow thickly, trying to keep my voice steady.
"I'm sorry," I whisper.
Leah shakes her head once, squeezing my hand once. "Let's not worry about that now, all right?"
I watch her carefully, noting that something seems off. Her jaw is taut, and underneath the worry, there's a hardness in her eyes I've only seen when she's upset with Jacob.
Was it something I had done?
Before I can ask, there's another knock at the door, and Dr. Gerandy comes in, his balding head gleaming in the dim light of the room.
"Miss Swan, nice to see you awake. How are you feeling?" he asks, performing his own examination of the machines I'm hooked up to.
"Okay, I guess."
"You told the nurse you're having some pain?"
"Yeah."
He nods as if he expected this, and pulls a notepad from his pocket, scribbling something. "The hospital is making everyone transition to those E-Chart things," he complains, his face screwed in a slight sneer. "I tried, but I can't get the hang of it, so I prefer to write things down. Pain level?"
"Eight and a half."
He nods once more and scribbles something else down before heading to the sink, setting his notepad down on the rolling tray as he does so.
After quickly washing his hands, he returns to me, pressing on various parts of my body and asking me how much it hurts.
My eyes sting at the familiarity of it all; I can't believe I'm back here.
I hiss when Dr. Gerandy hits a particularly sensitive spot on the upper thigh of my injured leg. He frowns and delicately lifts my hospital gown. A large purple bruise stands out against my pale skin, and I look at Leah in confusion, wondering where it came from.
She looks just as confused and concerned, her eyes wide and glassy as she blindly reaches for my hand, squeezing once.
"All right," Dr. Gerandy says, reaching for his notepad again. "What were you doing before you passed out?"
"I was sitting. Leah and I had been at the grocery store. There was … an issue, and I went outside to get some air."
Leah huffs. "My mother is a bitch," she says bluntly. "She blames Bella for the accident and our brother being hospitalized."
"Leah," I hiss, trying to look angry, but I'm afraid I just look pathetic with the amount of tears trailing down my cheeks.
Dr. Gerandy hums, his lips turned down as he stares at me. "Did anyone talk to her about what happened?"
"They did," Leah says before I can say a word. "But my mother has issues, Doctor, and she takes it out on Bella."
A light of understanding and recognition dawns across his face, and I wish I was brave enough to ask what he understands from what he's been told, because I would like to know myself.
"All right. So your stress levels have increased with that … and working two jobs doesn't help either."
I stutter a response, wondering how the hell he knew I was working two jobs. The only thing I can think of is that Leah told him. But when I glance over, she looks just as surprised as I do.
"This is a small town, Bella. Everyone knows everyone … and I saw you at Jessica Stanley's diner the other day … which is definitely not a toy store."
Heat flares through me, and my gaze shifts to the pale blue scratchy blanket covering my legs.
"I'm going to run some tests. Nurse Charlotte will come back and get some blood samples, and then we'll have someone from X-Ray and imaging come up to get some scans. Once the results are back, we'll talk."
"How long will it take for the results?" I ask, my voice cracking as I continue to cry silently.
"I learned a long time ago not to say a word when it comes to things like that," he replies with a single chuckle. "It jinxes things, you know."
Leah murmurs in understanding and quietly thanks him as he heads toward the door. When we're alone again, she squeezes my hand, scrubbing a hand over her face.
"Holy shit, what a day."
"I'm sorry," I murmur, my tears now coming faster.
She leans toward me, her warm hands gently brushing the hair out of my face. "Let's not worry about that, okay?"
"Do you hate me?"
Her face turns stern, her eyes narrowing. "You listen to me right now, Isabella Marie. You are my sister; we might not share blood, but blood doesn't mean shit. Family is who's there for you … who helps you, loves you, and supports you … and you are my family. You are my sister. I could never hate you because I know who you are on the inside. You are kind, gentle, sweet, and the best person I know. I don't agree with some of your decisions, but that's family; we don't have to agree with everything the other does. So, no, I do not hate you."
A broken sob leaves me by the time she's done, and immediately her arms wrap around me in a gentle hug. She murmurs something softly, her fingers running soothingly through my hair.
It reminds me so much of my mother, and for the second time since my accident, I feel the bittersweet pang of sadness hit me. Selfishly, I wish she were here with me.
As soon as the thought comes, I push it away.
She's on her honeymoon; she shouldn't be here worrying over me. She deserves to enjoy her newly married life with Phil.
A short knock sounds at the door, and the same nurse from before pops in, dragging a small cart behind her.
"All righty. I'm here for bloodwork. This will be speedy because John from X-Ray is right behind me, waiting to take you off."
With a deep breath, I hold out my arm and stare unseeingly as the nurse ties my upper arm and examines the crook of my elbow before slipping the needle inside with no difficulty. I wince at the pinch but relax, quickly looking away as the tube fills with blood.
The nurse hums lightly, taking several vials of blood before placing a Band-Aid over my wound. Seconds later, another knock sounds at the door, and the nurse shakes her head with a hearty laugh.
A man around my age comes in, pushing an empty wheelchair in front of him.
"What?" he asks, his face bright as he watches her.
"I told them you'd be in right after me! I should have put money on it."
"I learned my lesson a long time ago to be punctual," he jokes with a grin. "Miss Swan, my name is John, and I'm going to take you to get some X-Rays and scans done, okay?"
"Sure," I mumble, carefully lifting the blankets off.
John offers his hand, and I hesitate for a moment, wanting to do this myself. But as I continue to move, the lingering dizziness I had earlier makes me change my mind.
For his part, John doesn't flinch or seem the tiniest bit uncomfortable that I put most of my weight on him. In fact, he seems pleased I want the help.
As I try to settle into the chair, I bite the inside of my lip to keep my tears at bay, but I can't stop the whimper that escapes when a sharp jolt shoots up from my leg.
"You all right?" John asks his face a mask of seriousness and concern.
"Fine," I reply, my voice cracking.
"It's not the most comfortable, I know, but you won't be in there long."
Leah stands off to the side, giving me a reassuring smile. "I'll be here, okay?"
I nod and blow out a breath as I'm wheeled from the room, hearing Leah's phone go off just as I cross the threshold.
"They just took her back—"
Knowing the next few minutes will be unpleasant, I close my eyes and try to think of happy things.
Surprisingly, the first thing that pops into my head is Edward and the concerned pinch of his lips as he asks if I'm okay.
Tears stream down my face as John helps ease me back into the wheelchair. Every move I make sends a piercing pain through me that makes me whimper.
I want to explain that I'm not usually like this; after my accident, I handled everything with a stoic determination that several nurses commented on. They couldn't believe I didn't sob when I was forced to twist this way and that for scans and X-Rays like I was today.
If they were to see me today, they wouldn't believe I was the same person, and I hate it.
"I'm sorry," I force out once I'm settled in the seat again.
"No apologies," he tells me, lightly shaking a finger. "You have to release your emotions, especially when you're in pain. It's cathartic."
"Who are you inflicting pain on now, John?" a new voice says, stepping out from around the corner, his white coat softly swaying around him as he moves.
His hazel eyes crinkle around the corners as he smiles, looking from me to John and back again, his smile never wavering, but I see a flash of concern in his features as he looks at me.
"Miss Swan, unfortunately."
The other man clicks his tongue and shakes his head playfully as he sighs in mock disappointment. "John, John, John." After a second, all playfulness disappears. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Sure, thanks, sir."
With just a nod, the other man steps to the side, silently indicating John to lead.
"Hi, Miss Swan. I'm Carlisle. How are you today?"
"I've been better," I mumble, feeling my eyes burn again with the threat of tears.
I have no idea why I'm crying so much today; sure, I've teared up at sad scenes in movies and emotional moments, like when Jacob found out Leah was pregnant and when Leah told me what happened to Seth.
But right now, there's no need for me to cry; I'm in pain, but the pain I had felt right after the accident was worse than this … so why am I bawling like a baby every few minutes? It's incredibly frustrating, and I hate that my emotions are so out of control.
"Are you in much pain?"
"Kind of," I reply. "Doctor Gerandy said he'll give me something when I return to my room."
This seems to upset him; his frown is deep, and his eyes are troubled, but he hides it well when he notices me looking.
When I'm back in my room, I spot Leah talking on her phone in the corner. She spins around when we enter, her face a mixture of surprise and guilt, though I'm not sure why the latter is there.
Quickly, she wraps up her call and shoves her phone into her purse, coming as close as she can without being in the way.
"Hello, I'm Carlisle Cullen; I'm a doctor here. I thought I'd help John get Miss Swan settled. Fours hands are better than two and all that."
Leah laughs lightly; her head tilted to the side as she stares at Doctor Cullen, an eyebrow raised pensively.
"Very true … and completely unexpected."
"That's just Doc Cullen," John says as he locks the wheelchair in place. "He's a good guy, this one. And he's done so much; we're lucky to have him."
Doctor Cullen shakes his head once, not agreeing with the sentiment; I'm curious about it, wondering why he doesn't see himself as a good person.
Is he looking for compliments? Or does he feel what he does is not that special?
With Doctor Cullen's help, I do manage to get into the bed a little easier, but it's not any less painful. Luckily I managed to keep from crying out, but a few tears escaped.
Both John and the doctor smile sympathetically, apologies clear on their faces.
"Thanks."
"Of course."
"No problem," they say at the same time.
John leaves, and Doctor Cullen follows behind at a more subdued pace. "I'm going to let Doctor Gerandy know you need something for your pain. Shouldn't be too much longer."
Leah murmurs a thank you while I nod, too exhausted to do much else.
"You okay?" Leah questions once we're alone again.
"Yeah. I'm tired."
She squeezed my hand once, her smile full of sadness.
"You should be home with Bailey and Jacob."
Leah rolls her eyes with a scoff. "I'm right where I need to be."
"No, Bailey needs you."
"Bailey has a father who is more than capable of caring for her," she tells me. "She's fine."
"You shouldn't—"
"Not another word," she interrupts. "What did I tell you? You're family. I won't leave you here alone while you're in the hospital, so be quiet."
Heavily, I sigh, allowing my head to fall back onto the pillow. Tears roll down my temples and into my hair; I don't bother wiping them away. I have no energy to move, and right now, I only want something for the pain shooting through my body to go away and to sleep until all this mess is over.
Leah grabs a tissue, tenderly blotting my face with the abrasive material.
For a hospital, you'd think they would have a softer brand of tissue, but I guess they decide cheaper is better.
"What can I do?"
I start to tell her that I don't need help, that I'm fine, but Edward's words ring in my head.
"When someone you love or care about is hurting, what's the first thing you wanna do? You wanna help, right? And if they refuse and insist on doing things themselves, watching them suffer is painful for the person wanting to help, too … it hurts them. So, don't let your pride and stubbornness get in the way of your recovery."
He does have a point. If the roles were reversed and Leah was hurt, I would want to help her. If she had refused my assistance, I know I would feel useless.
It's similar to how I feel about Seth, though it's not completely his fault.
He's in the hospital—not far from here, lost in his head. I've begged and pleaded with him to come back, talk to me, to do anything so I know how to help. In return, all I get is that blank, emotionless stare that guts me.
I start to tell her the truth that I'm not sure what she can do because I'm not even sure what to do. My mind is a jumbled mess of anxiety, and I wouldn't even know where to start on how someone can help me.
Before I can speak, Doctor Gerandy comes in, his face tense with aggravation. Just before the door closes, I notice Doctor Cullen standing outside my room, his eyes narrowed into slits as he glares at my doctor.
Just before the door closes, I see Nurse Charlotte approach.
"All right, Miss Swan," Doctor Gerandy begins after a deep breath. "I know you're in pain, so I told Nurse Charlotte to bring you some meds."
I nod in acknowledgment.
"As for your tests, I put a rush on them, so we should get them back soon."
"All right," I whisper. I clear my throat to rid myself of the cracking in my voice, though it doesn't do much good. "Do you know how long I'll have to stay here?"
"I'm waiting to make that decision until after your test results come back."
I grimace, hating the idea of staying here for any length of time. It's just one more bill added to the others I'll have to struggle to pay. Plus, there's still so much I need to do.
I need to get my things from my father's house, and I need to see Seth; I don't want to leave him alone in this place for too long because I'm sure Sue isn't visiting him as much as she should … and my father can't move around that much, so I'm sure he's not going very much.
There's Leah and Jacob, but they both have their own lives, and Jacob has his own business he's trying to get off the ground. Plus, they both agreed they didn't want Bailey to see her uncle like that, so they needed someone to watch her.
It's just too much.
Just then, there's a knock on the door, and Nurse Charlotte comes in with a gentle smile, though I do see a flash of annoyance in her eyes as she walks past Doctor Gerandy.
"Here we are, honey. This should help with your pain."
Passively, I watch as she injects something into my IV; there's a brief burning sensation as the medication enters my bloodstream, but it passes quickly.
Nurse Charlotte examines me again, hooking me back up to the wires and monitors around my bed, writing down whatever she finds before sliding a blood pressure cuff back up my arm.
Immediately, it turns on with a low buzz, but I barely feel the pressure as it inflates.
Slowly, my body sinks into the mattress, and my head lolls back, too heavy to hold upright.
"There," Doctor Gerandy says with a single nod. "That will help."
"Mm-hmm," Nurse Charlotte hums with a quick wink to me.
Doctor Gerandy says something else, but it's lost to me. It sounds like everything is underwater, and keeping my focus is hard. Luckily, Leah is here, and she responds to whatever is being said.
They talk for a while before Doctor Gerandy and Nurse Charlotte leave Leah and me alone. I'm unaware I've fallen asleep until a sharp knock jolts me into groggy confusion.
"Huh?" I mumble, wondering how long I've been out; the window is dark, and I see the faint yellow glow of a street light.
Leah mutters a swear word, scowling at the door. "It's okay," she says, squeezing my hand. "Calm down."
"Huh?" I repeat, wondering why she's telling me to calm down.
I'm fine. I'm just wondering who the hell is knocking so loud and why I'm being told to be calm.
The door opens, and Doctor Gerandy comes striding in, his face twisted in concern. "I apologize. I didn't mean to startle you."
"Just take a deep breath, Bella," Leah tells me, one hand gently squeezing mine while the other is on my uninjured leg.
Looking closer, the fog in my head begins to lift, and I notice my legs are frantically kicking, and there's an annoying high-pitched beeping coming from somewhere beside me. I will myself to calm and settle my limbs, but it seems they have a mind of their own.
"If you don't calm down, we'll have to make you. calm down."
Leah blows out a frustrated breath, her scowl deepening as she glowers at my doctor. "She's fine. She'll settle down in a minute."
"Her heart rate and blood pressure—"
"… Were just fine a few moments ago. Give her time," Leah interrupts sternly.
Thankfully, I seem to regain control of my legs and settle, though my heart rate is still high; I don't need the rapid beeping to tell me that. I can feel it in my head.
"How long has she been like this?" Doctor Gerandy questions, his voice now softer.
"Since the accident," Leah replies. "Sudden loud noises can startle her, especially if she's groggy."
"What?" I shake my head to dispute her claims because I would have noticed if I had been jumpy over loud noises. "No, I don't—I don't do that," I mutter, trying to think of a time when I've recoiled or reacted poorly to a loud sound, but nothing comes to mind.
Leah gives me a small, sad smile, and I look away, hating that the look is directed toward me.
"Have my tests come back?"
Doctor Gerandy nods once, pulling his glasses down onto the bridge of his nose and pulling my chart in front of him.
"I'm going to be frank because there's no way to sugarcoat it. Your blood pressure is extremely high, as is your heart rate. Even at a resting state, it's high, which is not good. You're not where you should be regarding your recovery. Now, I know every person is different when it comes to healing, but honestly … looking at your scans, I can't see any improvement. Your iron is low, which isn't helping much, and you have a vitamin deficiency that must be addressed. All in all, it's not looking good, Ms. Swan."
A low keening whimpering emits from my chest, but I refuse to break down in front of Leah and my doctor.
I honestly knew I wasn't feeling right, but I thought I was okay. I was still getting up, moving around, eating, and taking my medications.
What more can I do?
Leah's grip on my hand tightens, making the tears come faster, but I don't acknowledge them. I just squeeze her hand as tight as I can, because I know whatever comes next isn't good.
"So, what now?"
Doctor Gerandy sighs, shoving his glasses back to the top of his head. "You'll need to recover. Really recover. That means no working, returning to physical therapy, and, most importantly, resting. I'm also going to draw up a list of therapists so that we can address—"
"I don't need a therapist," I interrupt, my voice hard.
Doctor Gerandy and Leah exchange a look but say nothing more on the matter.
I guess I'll have to bring it up later because I don't need to see a therapist.
I'm fine.
"When can I leave?"
"I'm going to keep you here for a few more days for observation. I want to monitor your iron and vitamin levels a bit longer."
Turning my head toward the window, I bite the inside of my lip to keep myself from crying and sobbing, but it's almost useless. Rivulets of moisture stream down my cheeks, leaving a burning trail in their wake. Luckily, I managed to keep the sobs under control, but I couldn't stop my shuddering breaths.
"Is it that bad? Her vitamin and iron levels?" Leah questions, worried.
"Well, it's not good—"
I tune them out and stare out of the window, watching as beads of water slide down the glass as the rain starts pouring heavily from the sky. A low rumble of thunder can be heard in the distance, which fits my current mood.
My eyes burn, and I don't attempt to stop them this time. Instead, I allow them to fall, not caring who sees.
Leah sticks around until I've finished my dinner—a tray of baked chicken, steamed green beans, a pudding cup, and a small bowl of mixed fruit. It looks like plastic, and I imagine it would taste like it, too, if I could taste it.
Another nurse comes in shortly after I've eaten, hooking something up to my IV; I try to listen as she explains what it is, but it's in one ear and out the other. When she's done taking my tray of half-eaten food with her, Leah gives me an apologetic smile.
"I'm sorry, but I need to go."
A glance at the clock tells me it's nearing seven, and I know she needs to get home for Bailey's bedtime.
"Of course. Go home. I'll be okay."
Leah sighs heavily, pressing a light kiss to my forehead. "I hate leaving you here. But if you want to talk, your cell phone is right here. Call me any time."
I nod, placing the phone in my lap. My eyes burn once more as Leah gathers her things to leave, and I wish I were going with her more than anything.
"I'm sorry, Leah."
"No apologies," she immediately says with a shake of her head.
"But—"
"No. You want to make it up to me? You think about yourself for once, okay? Not your pathetic excuse of a father, not my horrible incubator, and not about Seth. You. Get better. That's how you can apologize."
I say nothing because I'm not sure what to say. I had been taking care of myself … hadn't I? Sure, I had skipped out on my physical therapy appointments and was working two jobs—one of which I have an asshole for a manager—, but I don't have the luxury of not working.
As soon as I was released from the hospital, the bills started coming in, immediately putting me on edge.
Leah taps my leg, nodding to my phone. "Make a list of the things you want from home. I'll bring them tomorrow."
My voice cracks as I speak. "Okay."
With a small hug and a gentle wave, Leah leaves, and for what seems like the millionth time today, I cry.
The night is long and filled with endless interruptions.
Whoever said you get to rest in a hospital must have had some good drugs because I was constantly woken every hour by a nurse checking my vitals or that damn blood pressure machine taking my blood pressure.
Leah texts me just after breakfast, saying she'll be there to see me in the early afternoon, and requests a list of things I'd like from the house.
I'm not really sure what to say because I don't have much there. Most of my things are still at my dad's house … or hopefully, they are, anyway.
I ask for my bathroom items and phone charger since it's almost dead.
I had almost written to my mother many times last night, letting her know what I've been going through and where I am. I'd write out everything, only to delete it and return an hour later.
Ultimately, I told her I was in the hospital but not to worry because it's just for a checkup. It's not entirely truthful, but if I don't tell her and she finds out about it later, she'll be pissed.
Shortly after one in the afternoon, I heard a short but rapid knock on the door. Before I can tell whoever it is to enter, the door bursts open, and I gasp, feeling my heart launch into my throat.
EPOV-
"Why is your sister blowing up my phone?" Kate asks in greeting as I answer my phone.
"Because she's crazy," I immediately reply, trying to balance a laundry basket on my hip while tossing in various clothing items and blankets that have been thrown around.
I swear I had only been lax on cleaning for a few days—three, at most—and it looks like I haven't cleaned anything in months.
How the hell could it have gotten this bad?
Was it always this bad, even when I was a kid?
It must have been because I recall my mother screaming at me to clean my room more than once.
Thankfully, half of this stuff is Hazel's, making me feel better. Sure, she hasn't been over here in a week, but I'm going to ignore that part and put the blame where it belongs … my daughter and my job.
"Well, she's pissing me off, and it needs to stop."
"What exactly is she doing?" I inquire, setting the basket on top of the dryer as I begin sorting everything.
"She's calling me multiple times a day, sending me twenty text messages a day … twenty!" she yells, making me wince. "And now she's resorted to sending me emails. She's too much!"
"I agree. I've told my parents to get rid of her," I joke, though, in reality, Emmett had been the one who wanted her gone.
I just wanted her to leave for the day … Emmett wanted her with another family.
From what my grandparents and parents said, when they told Emmett my mother was going to have a baby, he immediately told them it had better be a boy because he didn't want a little sister.
My parents laughed it off, but my stubborn older brother stuck by his decision and gave Alice a wide berth, trying to bribe our family members into taking her when they visited. He didn't stop until she had progressed from her shrieking phase and started walking around. Since she could do more than cry, eat, and poop, Emmett found she was "kind of okay" until the announcement of my impending arrival shortly after Alice's first birthday.
"Edward, I'm serious. She's driving me nuts."
Moving the phone away from my mouth, I sigh heavily. "I'll talk to her, all right? Not sure how much good it'll do, but I'll try."
After a short moment of silence, Kate huffs. "No, it's okay," she grumbles. "She's just … I don't know."
"You still haven't told me why she's bothering you. She's calling, texting, emailing you … about what?"
"Going to dinner at her house. Her, Jasper, Emmett, Rosalie, me, and you."
Closing my eyes, I grit my teeth and count to ten in my head.
"Doesn't she know I'm still with Garrett?"
A low grinding rumbles in my ears. I'm tempted to tell Kate that Alice is fully aware of her relationship status; she's heard it enough from me reminding her and my mother gushing over the photos Kate posts over her social media … she just doesn't want to acknowledge it for some reason.
However, I keep my lips firmly closed because I know if I just blurt it out, it'll hurt Kate. At one point in their lives, Alice and Kate were really good friends; they spent every moment together, huddled in Alice's room, talking for hours over who knows what.
I'm sure they're still the best of friends in Alice's mind, and nothing has changed.
I know in Kate's, it's a different story.
While she would never be rude to my sister because she's my sister and they have a history, I know their friendship hasn't been the same in quite some time. Somewhere along the way, Alice stopped being caring and considerate of others and instead started worrying about what other people thought and getting "the best of the best."
Kate says it's because of Rosalie because she wasn't that way until Rosalie Hale moved to town. But I saw Alice more than Kate did; it started before Rosalie moved here … and just got worse when there was another person just as concerned over status than anything.
"I'm not sure," I lie, concentrating on what I put into the washer.
I want to claim innocence and distraction by washing our daughter's clothes appropriately instead of getting in the middle of the mess my sister started.
"I don't believe you."
"I'm not sure what to tell you, Kate. You know how she is. She's selfish … and ignorant at times. You could tell her something, and she'll forget seconds later if it doesn't directly involve her."
"That's true," she mumbles. "But I also know how you are, and you sound cagey."
"I'm washing clothes and making sure I don't mess it up this time. Your daughter told me that."
Kate guffaws. "My daughter. You had a hand in her creation as well."
"Yeah, she's your daughter when she demands things of me. My daughter is sweet and innocent and says please."
"Ha! Yeah, okay," she replies with a scoff.
I feel a little better, knowing Kate is distracted now. I don't want to discuss my sister's obsessiveness with our non-romantic relationship because I know it'll only hurt and piss off Kate.
I need to sit down and talk to my sister; hopefully, I can get her to see reason, and she'll grow out of this stupid idea that Kate and I need to be together.
"Speaking of our little hellion, how is she? Is she feeling better?"
"She is, thankfully. She's been able to keep food down for a couple of days, and her fever broke a few days before that, as you know. She's been bugging me to take her to the park because it's been forever, and she doesn't know what outside looks like anymore," Kate mocks in a perfect imitation of Hazel's whining.
"She certainly has your dramatics."
"What?"
"What?" I echo, chuckling lowly.
"That's what I thought," she hisses.
"How's Garrett?"
"Doing better. Still a little queasy at times, but he's been up and moving around the house."
"At your suggestion, I imagine?"
"Okay, I was not going to wait on him hand and foot!" Kate explodes. "He was sick with a stomach virus. Not dying. His fever had been gone for two days, and he was keeping food down. He's fine; he just had that lingering man-sickness."
By the time she's done, I'm laughing loudly at her rant. "Man-sickness?" I question through my chuckles.
"Yeah, you used to get waited on and milk it because you wanted to be babied. Not gonna happen, buster."
I snorted; I had heard that quite a bit when we were dating, and even more from my mother because she agreed that once the men in her life got sick, we all turned into children who couldn't grab the glass of water right beside our beds without assistance.
Personally, I remember nothing of the sort, but I've learned not to argue with a woman if you want to live a long life.
"You know, you could have some sympathy for the guy. I mean, he hasn't been feeling well—"
"Like you had for me when I had false labor?" she interrupts, ignoring my groan of protest. "You said, and I quote, oh, it can't hurt that bad. When you were driving me to the hospital."
"That was different," I argue.
"How? After you found out I wasn't in labor, you said the pain I had felt couldn't be that bad because it wasn't the real thing."
"I was stupid! And I learned my lesson."
Her responding chuckle is dark and gleeful. "Yes, you did. I gotta tell you, I loved when your dad was working his rotation in labor and delivery. That little machine was a miracle! What was it called again?"
I mutter my answer, not liking the memory of that small black box with the sticky ends that simulated labor pains.
I hope every replica of that thing things and burns in hell.
"A labor simulator, that's right. Ha!" she laughs, a snort leaving her as she does so. "I love it. I'm getting one for Garrett. He needs to know the pain I'll be in."
I blink, shocked at her easy admission of my suspicions. I thought getting the information out of her would have been difficult.
"Shit," she whimpers. "Edward, I—shit. My big mouth. Edward—"
She's moments away from crying; I can tell by the crack in her voice.
"So, can I have Harper this weekend since she's feeling better?" I ask, hoping to divert the conversation away from something she obviously doesn't want to talk about.
"Uh," is all she says before I hear the sound of her muffled cries. I want to say something, to tell her I won't say a word, but it would fall on deaf ears since she probably doesn't even have the phone in her hand right now anyway.
A few minutes later, Kate returns, sniffling softly. "You don't have to ask," she tells me, her voice small. "She's your daughter too."
"Yeah, but she needs to pass inspection first. I don't want her germs."
Lightly, she laughs. "I don't want that either. You're the biggest baby when you get sick."
"Not anymore. I've gotten better."
"Remains to be seen," she mumbles. "Edward—"
"It's okay, Kate. Later. On your terms."
I hear her release a long breath. "Thanks, Edward."
"Stop"
"Okay," she whispers. "What's new?"
"Why? So you can gossip with my mother?" I playfully complain.
"It was funny!" she defends, her tone getting livelier. "Even you have to see the humor in the situation."
"You know, I don't."
Kate laughs. "Step aside and look at it like this, you thought you could get any girl—"
"In college," I interrupt. "Right after we broke up, there was a lot of interest."
"Because you were forbidden fruit when we started there. Of course, women are going to want what they can't have; you only made yourself more intriguing because you wouldn't cheat on me."
"That's not who I am," I say, my tone slightly defensive.
"I know that," Kate replies softly. "I was lucky … and that just made you more delectable in their eyes. When we broke up, of course, you would get swarmed. Hence, the ego boost you had for a while."
I could argue and come up with a bunch bullshit excuses, but I won't win. Even I know I thought very highly of myself for that short period when I was single and hadn't known about Kate's pregnancy.
Once I did, however, I settled down and focused on school and being a father.
I wasn't a saint, but I did date and get laid, but I stayed close to Kate, wanting to help take care of the life we created together.
"Yeah, yeah. Well, I'll have you know—" I stop myself as soon as the words start; I can't tell Kate anything about Bella and me.
"What should I know?"
"Nothing," I tell her with a small laugh and shake my head.
Kate hums as if she doesn't believe me, but that's fine; she won't press until she knows I'm ready to talk about it.
I'm tempted to get Kate's take on things; she thinks about every aspect of a situation and gives great advice, but can I do that? Can I talk about what Bella confided in me and what I saw in the store?
The image of her tear-stained, sad face stops me in my tracks; it's not Kate's business to know what happened to Bella that day, and it feels wrong to tell her.
Besides, even though we talked, and she took my number, I have no idea if she'll use it. It's been three days since the grocery store, and she hasn't called me yet … not that I expect her to.
Why would I tell a stranger anything about her past? Sure, I'm an impartial third party, but there's no way she'll actually want to talk to me about her problems.
So why am I hoping for it?
I hope you enjoyed the chapter! See you soon! :)